September 14, 2021
'Faith is the enemy of reason and facts. You must always rely on what is objective in order to choose correctly otherwise you risk running into fatal errors.'
Raphael Maillard stopped writing. He placed the pencil in the middle of the notebook, raised a pair of binoculars and looked around. There was nobody. He looked up and immediately noticed a white figure, an airplane, which flew across the sky for a few minutes and then left. Shortly thereafter a parachute opened.
'Faith is the enemy of reason and facts. You must always rely on what is objective in order to choose correctly otherwise you risk running into fatal errors.'
Raphael Maillard stopped writing. He placed the pencil in the middle of the notebook, raised a pair of binoculars and looked around. There was nobody. He looked up and immediately noticed a white figure, an airplane, which flew across the sky for a few minutes and then left. Shortly thereafter a parachute opened.
"What an idiot," Raphael commented in a low voice.
He put down the instrument and started writing again.
'Never rely on what is dark. What we don't know, what is uncertain is our enemy and if we allow ourselves to be seized by passions and instincts, we become subjected to the religious way of thinking that has slowed down human history.'
He stopped writing. He put the pencil down again and as before he checked the surroundings with the binoculars. The parachute was no longer visible in the sky.
His Servant appeared next to Raphael: a tall man with a thick beard and deep eyes.
"Master, you're right to write your thoughts on paper, I always did. It's the best way to criticize yourself. This was how I followed my philosophical doctrine."
"That's not what I'm doing, ω Lancer," he said sharply.
"It seems to me the opposite."
"That's because you don't know me."
"What are you doing then? Because it seems to me that those are your reflections, Master."
"They are my memories. I doubt I'll make it out of this war alive. I have never fought a Holy Grail War, the odds are all against me and so I prepare something to leave for posterity. Admitted and not granted that something will come to them."
"You're a bit pessimistic, Master."
"I hate it when people tell me." Raphael closed the notebook. "That Vergil… it's no coincidence that he kidnapped me just when I was investigating in England. The accident, the fall of the Clock Tower and the consequent death of Dorian Benard are certainly part of a conspiracy. I know it's no coincidence but without evidence I can't move."
"Yes, but ... why are we on the roof, Master?" Lancer asked, changing the subject.
Raphael threw a nervous look at his Servant and replied:
"Because it's better this way. I'm not a fool and I want to be prepared. It's not difficult."
"Master, of course you're upset. Maybe you should meditate a bit instead of leaving your will."
"I'm doing a rational thing, I'm preparing for my probable death," he asserted coldly. "Why fool yourself? Why pretend you are destined to live long? It's much better to accept that you will die and prepare for your end."
"Master, a lesson you should learn is that when circumstances force you to go through some sort of upheaval, then you must immediately return to yourself, you must always return to harmony so as not to be suffocated by what is external" said Lancer in a philosophical way.
"Your words are wise, ω Lancer, but your stoicism cannot nullify the fact that I'm in an extremely dangerous conflict for my well-being."
"Do you have reason? Yes. Then use it to survive. Use your reason to win, because right now you're wasting it to prepare for a death that is still far away. Don't dig your own grave, use your virtues to win."
"Don't worry, I'll know when the time is right to use my reason. Now, if you don't mind, I have to keep writing."
"As you like, Master ... I won't bother you," he said slightly regretfully.
Lancer disappeared. Raphael picked up the pencil.
'I condemn the day I decided to leave Paris to go to London and investigate the death of Dorian Benard, my colleague who taught with me to experienced magicians. I was prompted to investigate his death by meeting a magus who had survived the fall of the Clock Tower. He had provided me with the necessary clues to link Friedrich Wolff, Yukiko Kumahira and Alessandro Serpi to Dorian's death. I am aware of the direct involvement of the second, but the first and third are certainly accomplices. Alessandro Serpi, a magus of the Coven, befriends a former magus of the Rote Mäntel, the two come into contact with Dorian Benard and for some strange reason, after the attack on the Clock Tower, Serpi is excommunicated and Yukiko is taken by Coven. Why? From my investigations I understand that Yukiko and Serpi are related while Wolff, despite having been a friend of Dorian, was nothing more than a dog without a leash. My suspicion is that the Coven is actually behind the fall of the Clock Tower. What I need is decisive proof.'
He stopped writing as soon as he sensed a magus's mana. It was close.
Raphael closed his notebook, took out the binoculars and looked around.
"I didn't imagine it, it's here," he muttered to himself.
There was nobody. The man lowered the binoculars for just a few seconds and in that instant something hit him from behind and knocked him off the roof. Fortunately the house wasn't very tall and so Raphael didn't get hurt, but when he raised his head he saw this boy with blue hair and a sword in his hand.
"Nice to meet you, magus. Call me Henry Allison. Can I have your head? You can also pack it if you want, I'm not interested in subtleties."
"A Mage Hunter ..."
"The Mage Hunter," he corrected.
"How did you get here?" Raphael got up. "You're not admitted to this war." Then he remembered the guy who had parachuted. Raising his eyebrows he said, "No… impossible. How did you manage to cross the magic barrier?"
"Try to get there by yourself, champion."
"It doesn't matter. You will die, boy."
Raphael's Servant appeared behind Henry and struck a blow with his halberd; the blow, however, was blocked by a kind of magical barrier that surrounded the boy. Henry jumped back and exclaimed to Raphael:
"You have a nice Servant there! I assume he's Lancer class. It's very fortunate that those creatures are kept with magical energy. They are nothing more than prolonged and speaking spells."
"An amulet," Raphael observed without showing signs of concern.
"Sorry?"
"You're wearing an amulet. Here's how you got here safe and sound. I should have known."
"What makes you think I'm wearing an amulet?" he asked him. "Maybe I'm a very powerful magus who knows excellent defensive Magecraft."
"Oh, please. Your burlesque attitude can't hide the amount of mana you have. You're a very low level magus. You'll have a maximum of ten Magical Circuits," he exclaimed incredulously, then added, "With that level of mana it's clear you're using an amulet."
He put down the instrument and started writing again.
'Never rely on what is dark. What we don't know, what is uncertain is our enemy and if we allow ourselves to be seized by passions and instincts, we become subjected to the religious way of thinking that has slowed down human history.'
He stopped writing. He put the pencil down again and as before he checked the surroundings with the binoculars. The parachute was no longer visible in the sky.
His Servant appeared next to Raphael: a tall man with a thick beard and deep eyes.
"Master, you're right to write your thoughts on paper, I always did. It's the best way to criticize yourself. This was how I followed my philosophical doctrine."
"That's not what I'm doing, ω Lancer," he said sharply.
"It seems to me the opposite."
"That's because you don't know me."
"What are you doing then? Because it seems to me that those are your reflections, Master."
"They are my memories. I doubt I'll make it out of this war alive. I have never fought a Holy Grail War, the odds are all against me and so I prepare something to leave for posterity. Admitted and not granted that something will come to them."
"You're a bit pessimistic, Master."
"I hate it when people tell me." Raphael closed the notebook. "That Vergil… it's no coincidence that he kidnapped me just when I was investigating in England. The accident, the fall of the Clock Tower and the consequent death of Dorian Benard are certainly part of a conspiracy. I know it's no coincidence but without evidence I can't move."
"Yes, but ... why are we on the roof, Master?" Lancer asked, changing the subject.
Raphael threw a nervous look at his Servant and replied:
"Because it's better this way. I'm not a fool and I want to be prepared. It's not difficult."
"Master, of course you're upset. Maybe you should meditate a bit instead of leaving your will."
"I'm doing a rational thing, I'm preparing for my probable death," he asserted coldly. "Why fool yourself? Why pretend you are destined to live long? It's much better to accept that you will die and prepare for your end."
"Master, a lesson you should learn is that when circumstances force you to go through some sort of upheaval, then you must immediately return to yourself, you must always return to harmony so as not to be suffocated by what is external" said Lancer in a philosophical way.
"Your words are wise, ω Lancer, but your stoicism cannot nullify the fact that I'm in an extremely dangerous conflict for my well-being."
"Do you have reason? Yes. Then use it to survive. Use your reason to win, because right now you're wasting it to prepare for a death that is still far away. Don't dig your own grave, use your virtues to win."
"Don't worry, I'll know when the time is right to use my reason. Now, if you don't mind, I have to keep writing."
"As you like, Master ... I won't bother you," he said slightly regretfully.
Lancer disappeared. Raphael picked up the pencil.
'I condemn the day I decided to leave Paris to go to London and investigate the death of Dorian Benard, my colleague who taught with me to experienced magicians. I was prompted to investigate his death by meeting a magus who had survived the fall of the Clock Tower. He had provided me with the necessary clues to link Friedrich Wolff, Yukiko Kumahira and Alessandro Serpi to Dorian's death. I am aware of the direct involvement of the second, but the first and third are certainly accomplices. Alessandro Serpi, a magus of the Coven, befriends a former magus of the Rote Mäntel, the two come into contact with Dorian Benard and for some strange reason, after the attack on the Clock Tower, Serpi is excommunicated and Yukiko is taken by Coven. Why? From my investigations I understand that Yukiko and Serpi are related while Wolff, despite having been a friend of Dorian, was nothing more than a dog without a leash. My suspicion is that the Coven is actually behind the fall of the Clock Tower. What I need is decisive proof.'
He stopped writing as soon as he sensed a magus's mana. It was close.
Raphael closed his notebook, took out the binoculars and looked around.
"I didn't imagine it, it's here," he muttered to himself.
There was nobody. The man lowered the binoculars for just a few seconds and in that instant something hit him from behind and knocked him off the roof. Fortunately the house wasn't very tall and so Raphael didn't get hurt, but when he raised his head he saw this boy with blue hair and a sword in his hand.
"Nice to meet you, magus. Call me Henry Allison. Can I have your head? You can also pack it if you want, I'm not interested in subtleties."
"A Mage Hunter ..."
"The Mage Hunter," he corrected.
"How did you get here?" Raphael got up. "You're not admitted to this war." Then he remembered the guy who had parachuted. Raising his eyebrows he said, "No… impossible. How did you manage to cross the magic barrier?"
"Try to get there by yourself, champion."
"It doesn't matter. You will die, boy."
Raphael's Servant appeared behind Henry and struck a blow with his halberd; the blow, however, was blocked by a kind of magical barrier that surrounded the boy. Henry jumped back and exclaimed to Raphael:
"You have a nice Servant there! I assume he's Lancer class. It's very fortunate that those creatures are kept with magical energy. They are nothing more than prolonged and speaking spells."
"An amulet," Raphael observed without showing signs of concern.
"Sorry?"
"You're wearing an amulet. Here's how you got here safe and sound. I should have known."
"What makes you think I'm wearing an amulet?" he asked him. "Maybe I'm a very powerful magus who knows excellent defensive Magecraft."
"Oh, please. Your burlesque attitude can't hide the amount of mana you have. You're a very low level magus. You'll have a maximum of ten Magical Circuits," he exclaimed incredulously, then added, "With that level of mana it's clear you're using an amulet."
"Shrewd-"
"It's not all. I also know that the amulet you are wearing is the Algiz Talisman. It's the only one able to provide that type of protection." He paused. "An ancient amulet of Celtic origins which, according to some legends, could protect the wearer from any evil. I don't know how you managed to find it, since it's not easy to produce, but it's clear that you have one."
"You know a lot, magus."
"Because I'm a professor of the AMPM. I teach Magecraft and specialize in the construction of amulets and magical objects of various kinds. You should have informed yourself before attacking me."
Henry immediately tried to stab Raphael, but Lancer intervened to stop the attack and repel the boy.
"Fuck! You're a lucky magus," he exclaimed nervously. "If you hadn't had that Servant to protect you, you would be dead by now."
"You make me sick," Raphael said in disgust. "Your existence alone makes me nauseous. A Mage Hunters is not too different from those Christian inquisitors who hunted witches during the Middle Ages. You are practically their spiritual heir."
"You're wrong ... because I don't kill you in the name of a deity, but to do justice."
"And what can you know about justice?"
"Does the Holy Grail War of Yggdrasil mean anything to you, asshole? All the people who died in London ... died because of you."
"You're wrong, boy ..." he said with a sigh. "Things are a lot more complicated than that, but I'm not going to convince a Mage Hunter. Now die."
Henry, realizing he was at a disadvantage against an opponent of that caliber, decided to retire but found himself facing another magus; he wore a black cloak with white trim, black trousers and also a gold cross.
"So," his accent was Russian, "you are the Mage Hunter I have heard so much about."
"Glad that at least someone knows me." Henry dodged a magical bullet made of blood that was fired by that Russian magus.
Meanwhile, Raphael took a vial full of mercury out of his trouser pocket, poured the contents onto the ground and said:
"Chien de Mercure."
A German shepherd-like dog made entirely of mercury barked and attacked Henry. The boy managed to dodge the beast's fangs but then had to deal with the bullets fired by the Russian magus.
"Two against one is unfair, you know?"
The unknown magus then took out a small knife and cut a thin cut in the palm of his hand; the blood took the shape of a scythe and then Henry, recognizing that magic, exclaimed:
"Mikhail Sadykov!"
"Sadykov?" Raphael asked. "Wait," he turned to that magus "Mikhail the Bloody? The man who massacred hundreds of innocent people?"
"In person," Mikhail replied in a proud tone.
"No, I don't collaborate with the killers."
The mercury dog attacked Mikhail but was soon cut in two by the blood scythe.
"Is that all what you can do?"
The hound's wounds healed and the animal bit the unsuspecting man in the leg.
"Son of a bitch!"
Mikhail eliminated the beast, but in doing this let his guard down.
"Now, ω Lancer!" Raphael exclaimed.
Lancer went off to attack but stopped to protect his Master from a blast of fire that appeared out of nowhere.
"Did you really think I was alone?" Mikhail said with a malicious grin.
Behind the man appeared a Servant with yellow eyes and blue hair; he was wearing a purple scarf and was elegantly dressed with gold straps. In his hand he had a kind of golden sphere with a cross-shaped candelabra on top, the flame on top was lit.
Mikhail introduced his ally:
"This is my Servant: α Caster."
"Cute," Raphael said sarcastically. "But let's see how long it will last against ω Lancer."
"It's not all. I also know that the amulet you are wearing is the Algiz Talisman. It's the only one able to provide that type of protection." He paused. "An ancient amulet of Celtic origins which, according to some legends, could protect the wearer from any evil. I don't know how you managed to find it, since it's not easy to produce, but it's clear that you have one."
"You know a lot, magus."
"Because I'm a professor of the AMPM. I teach Magecraft and specialize in the construction of amulets and magical objects of various kinds. You should have informed yourself before attacking me."
Henry immediately tried to stab Raphael, but Lancer intervened to stop the attack and repel the boy.
"Fuck! You're a lucky magus," he exclaimed nervously. "If you hadn't had that Servant to protect you, you would be dead by now."
"You make me sick," Raphael said in disgust. "Your existence alone makes me nauseous. A Mage Hunters is not too different from those Christian inquisitors who hunted witches during the Middle Ages. You are practically their spiritual heir."
"You're wrong ... because I don't kill you in the name of a deity, but to do justice."
"And what can you know about justice?"
"Does the Holy Grail War of Yggdrasil mean anything to you, asshole? All the people who died in London ... died because of you."
"You're wrong, boy ..." he said with a sigh. "Things are a lot more complicated than that, but I'm not going to convince a Mage Hunter. Now die."
Henry, realizing he was at a disadvantage against an opponent of that caliber, decided to retire but found himself facing another magus; he wore a black cloak with white trim, black trousers and also a gold cross.
"So," his accent was Russian, "you are the Mage Hunter I have heard so much about."
"Glad that at least someone knows me." Henry dodged a magical bullet made of blood that was fired by that Russian magus.
Meanwhile, Raphael took a vial full of mercury out of his trouser pocket, poured the contents onto the ground and said:
"Chien de Mercure."
A German shepherd-like dog made entirely of mercury barked and attacked Henry. The boy managed to dodge the beast's fangs but then had to deal with the bullets fired by the Russian magus.
"Two against one is unfair, you know?"
The unknown magus then took out a small knife and cut a thin cut in the palm of his hand; the blood took the shape of a scythe and then Henry, recognizing that magic, exclaimed:
"Mikhail Sadykov!"
"Sadykov?" Raphael asked. "Wait," he turned to that magus "Mikhail the Bloody? The man who massacred hundreds of innocent people?"
"In person," Mikhail replied in a proud tone.
"No, I don't collaborate with the killers."
The mercury dog attacked Mikhail but was soon cut in two by the blood scythe.
"Is that all what you can do?"
The hound's wounds healed and the animal bit the unsuspecting man in the leg.
"Son of a bitch!"
Mikhail eliminated the beast, but in doing this let his guard down.
"Now, ω Lancer!" Raphael exclaimed.
Lancer went off to attack but stopped to protect his Master from a blast of fire that appeared out of nowhere.
"Did you really think I was alone?" Mikhail said with a malicious grin.
Behind the man appeared a Servant with yellow eyes and blue hair; he was wearing a purple scarf and was elegantly dressed with gold straps. In his hand he had a kind of golden sphere with a cross-shaped candelabra on top, the flame on top was lit.
Mikhail introduced his ally:
"This is my Servant: α Caster."
"Cute," Raphael said sarcastically. "But let's see how long it will last against ω Lancer."
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| Henry Allison by BikoWolf |
