Three days later.
Fluorescent light flickered from the ceiling of our garage, casting itself across Mustang's frame. Our car's chassis remained matte-black on the outside, but magic circles etched into its inner body rotated in a synchronised rhythm, radiating violet mist from beneath the car.
A sharp scent of motor oil filled the air, bleeding from Mustang's opened hood, and underneath it sat the engine block. A V-8, same as my modified R1's, though this one was factory-manufactured, the kind SUVs and muscle cars generally came with.
Beside me, Artoria wiped a smear of oil from her cheek with a handkerchief, her eyes fixed on the headlights, which stayed switched off for now.
Then she turned toward the engine. Its casing was crystalline and transparent, eight pistons of that same clear metal punching gently in and out of their cylinders.
"Master... I never had the chance to ask, what is this metal?"
I stepped forward and pressed my palm on that casing. The engine was warm, a blue-black fuel-air mixture visibly pumping through those pistons.
"It's one of the Azoth-grade alloys. They're normally forged into blades and gifted by magi to their students at graduation."
"... A blade." Artoria moved closer, her eyes narrowing and brows furrowed. "Then why is it in an engine, Master?"
I pulled my hand back and let it hang at my side. "Azoth-grade alloys have a very unique property, they can amplify any mana that passes through them exponentially."
"You mean to say..." Her face turned toward me, fingers curling around Mustang's front frame.
"Yes. Right now, the mixture being pumped to the pistons is a basic fuel-air blend, but we can add mana to it. And since Azoth alloys amplify mana—"
"—Then the pistons can be injected with a huge surge of mana, firing on a mixture of all three, redefining what this vehicle is capable of." Artoria finished for me, clasping her hands behind her back as she tipped backward. "A blade turned engine. Fitting, for a knight's mount."
I stepped back with her, our gazes settling on the engine block from a short distance away now. "It's a concept based on NOS, where nitrous oxide is injected into the engine to burn more fuel through oxygen while keeping the engine's temperature down with cold nitrogen. But here, I've replaced it with mana, which serves as a better alternative to both."
Artoria went quiet for a moment. Then her hand found my sleeve, tugging once, twice, the motion small enough to almost pass as accidental.
"Master. I would like this vehicle for myself."
"It's not finished." I shook my head.
"I would still like it."
She glanced up at me, biting her lower lip imperceptibly, and her posture told me she wasn't even fully aware she was doing it.
"… Very well." Dropping my hand to my coat pocket, I pulled out a pair of black keys and held them out to her. "You can have the keys, but remember not to pump any mana into the engine. And those brakes we modified, they're so sensitive now that even pressing them an inch down would be enough to bring Mustang from 100 to 0 instantly."
"You need not worry, Master. I am more than proficient in mounted warfare." One of her hands thumped her chest, while the other snatched those keys from my grasp, heading toward the car.
I watched her go and circle Mustang, poking at it here and there, keys clutched tight in her grip.
After watching her antics for a minute, I pivoted on my heel, stepping out of our garage through a side door.
Inside the living room, Medusa was splayed across her sofa as usual, switching the TV from one channel to another with someone accompanying her this time.
Irisviel.
My laptop sat on a low table ahead of the sofa, its screen open and pointed toward the TV, and its wallpaper had changed again to a cozy cottage with a burning fireplace.
Irisviel lay sprawled on the couch there, her palm resting against her cheek, expression blank, silver hair pooling around her like shining threads.
I was just heading toward them when a magic circle flared to life at the far end of the room. Medea stepped out from within it, her hood pulled down, hair ruffled, dark circles under her eyes.
All three of us snapped our heads toward her. She ignored the other two and turned toward me, nearly stumbling on her next step. "Master!"
Before she could fall, I reached her in a single blink, placing my hands on her shoulders to steady her.
"Sit down first. Have a glass of water, then talk." My words had barely left my mouth when Medusa dragged a chair over to us, settling it beside Medea.
"Individual Medea should rest. Your biometrics are unstable." Irisviel said, rising from her sprawled position to sit upright, the laptop rotating toward us.
Silver threads crept toward the kitchen as I pushed down on Medea's shoulders, forcing her to sit and catch her breath first.
After half a minute of rest, she continued. "Master, I've finally—"
I pressed a finger to her lips, extending my other hand sideways where a glass of water hovered in the air, held up by Irisviel's threads.
Without looking, my fingers closed around it, and I offered it to her. "Have it first."
Medea glanced between the glass, my face, and Irisviel and Medusa watching her from nearby. She took the glass from me and drank, emptying it in a single gulp, a drop sliding down the corner of her lip.
"Haah... Master, it's finished. I mean, Illyasviel's new homunculus body is ready."
Silence.
Not for Illyasviel. For what came after, about the home we were about to leave behind, with no certainty of ever coming back.
Medusa's shoulders went rigid, her fingers curling into fists. Irisviel's threads froze in place, her avatar straightening to its feet.
A click of a door opening resounded as Artoria strode in from the garage, her knuckles white against the doorframe.
"So... The time has come." I swept my gaze around.
Medusa. Medea. Artoria. Irisviel.
"Master, shall I accompany you to the grail this time like before?" Artoria asked, stepping past me to stand at Medea's left, turning back to face me.
"Me too." Medusa took Medea's right, gaze locked on me, unblinking.
"I have enough strength to come with you this time, Master." Medea said while dragging a sleeve beneath her eyes, violet magic circles flashing on its cloth, and when she put it away, those bags under her eyes had healed.
"Where Izuru goes, I follow." Irisviel didn't forget to chime in at last.
I remained still for a moment.
"Let's go then, and prepare accordingly, we're leaving right after settling Illyasviel."
...
..
.
Ryuudou Temple.
I walked up the familiar stairs leading to the temple. Moon hung high overhead, pale and glowing, casting everything in a cold silver wash that made the surrounding trees look like rows of white spears driven into earth.
Cicadas had gone silent at this hour, the only sounds being that of our footsteps and a distant trickle of water from the surrounding foliage.
Illyasviel rested in my arms, cradled against my chest. Both her eyes were open, staring upward at nothing, irises a dull gold that caught moonlight without reflecting it back. Her face was blank and unresponsive, heartbeat too low for something human.
Golden veins ran beneath her skin, visible like threads of molten metal embedded in her flesh. They traced her arms, neck and cheeks, branching and reconnecting in patterns that followed no logic, pulsing faintly with each heartbeat.
Medea floated above, perched sideways on her horizontal staff, body angled aside but her face set forward.
Artoria walked a step behind me, her armour already materialised in fragments, shin guards and gauntlets gleaming under moonlight, while the rest of her remained in civilian clothes.
Bringing up the rear was Medusa, one stake-chain in her hand, other hand adjusting her glasses as she shifted her head toward every rustle, the grip on her weapon adjusting with each breath.
On my arm was a bracelet of silver threads, its threads writhing like living entities, Irisviel.
Medea spoke from above.
"Master, there might be some company later from the Enforcers of Clock Tower or other Magus Families, either for you or the grail."
Lines of heat traced across my body, and I looked down into Illyasviel's golden eyes. From deep within them, my own reflection gazed back. Black tattoos across my face, crimson eyes flickering with sky-blue.
"Let them come."
...
..
.
***
[200 Power Stones = 1 Bonus Chapter]
[15 chapters ahead on P@tr3on = [email protected]/Not_Aaryan]
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[Sealing Designation]: A status the Mage's Association gives to magi it considers exceptionally rare or dangerous, usually because their research or abilities are too valuable (or too unsafe) to leave unmonitored. Basically greedy magi who want to get their hands on someone else's magecraft or research by dissecting the person in question's body and preserving them in formalin, like a specimen.
[Enforcers]: The Association's agents tasked with hunting down and retrieving sealing-designated magi. Because any magus would strongly resist being designated, the Association sends highly-trained Enforcers after them to capture them and retrieve their work.
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[Author's Thoughts]
Sorry for the delay, I was having some problems at home and didn't have any time to write. Even replying to comments had to be done when I was eating or wasn't tending to others. But its almost wrapped up now, so no more hitches from here, hopefully.
Take care, and have a wonderful day.