Waver Velvet POV
I expected a lot.
When a Magician is present, things are not going to go as planned; I've learned that rather quickly. However, I had thought I at least had a measure of how chaotic things could become. I plan for everything being out of control and beyond my expectations. To expect the unexpected, as they say.
But now, I'm not sure even that was accurate.
I couldn't fathom the resources that Lord Zelretch had at his disposal. No one really knows how old Lord Zelretch is, only that he predates the establishment of the Mages Association by a large degree.
So at the very least, he is on par with a very old family in having hoarded resources over the years. And it's also no secret what his magic entails, only the details. That is to say, people whisper that Lord Zelretch is able to acquire things from parallel worlds, things that no longer exist in ours.
Whether that was true or not before, I couldn't make a comment. It sounded plausible; however, I also wouldn't have been surprised if it were false.
And yet, I still am wrapping my head around what just happened.
Lord Schweinorg—his grandson—bid with things that would make any magus sell their own children to acquire.
The debts that my predecessor accrued and subsequently laid at my feet were a fraction of what was thrown around here, yet the fifty billion pounds offered wasn't even the highlight.
Water from the River Styx is extraordinary. Perhaps it was believable—in that I would have accepted it as fact if someone told me it happened. I wouldn't be surprised if something of this caliber was kept as a treasure, carefully hoarded by an ancient Magus family, not something casually thrown out for a bid.
But still, the surprise settled, and I accepted it.
Then, he offered up items of the other kind. Every Magus knows what a Faerie is and their status as terminals of the world. Not many know of the greater variety, the existence of faeries with status not lower than divine spirits.
Lord Schweinorg offered up the equivalent of the blood of a god.
That too was enough that perhaps every department of the Clock Tower would have made a move if it was put up for auction instead.
Hell, I wouldn't be surprised if it was enough that many would foolishly look past his status as both a Magician and his relation to Lord Zelretch to try and acquire it through other means.
It makes me wonder if he's deliberately careless, or if it's just something so far beneath his care that he doesn't give it a second thought.
Either way, it was a frightening thought.
Yet, up to that, it was still…acceptable.
Those items weren't what had the majority of the train car still sitting down in silence even after Lord Schweinorg, his lady friends, and even the train staff had already left the train car.
No, it was the last item he offered that had a very odd gravitas that made it difficult to get up.
How does one acquire the wing of a fallen angel?
That was even ignoring the concept of an angel, and by extension, a fallen angel. There was far too much research that would need to be done to even be called knowledgeable on the subject to make judgments there.
I took it at face value.
And it was confirmed by someone—by none other than one of the most infamous Magi in history—to be genuine.
Someone who very clearly was antagonistic towards Lord Schweinorg.
That alone should speak volumes of the authenticity.
This was far above my pay grade.
I wasn't even sure I could begin to fathom the kind of ripples this could have when it gets public, if it hasn't already. I wouldn't be surprised if the news had already spread through every channel.
A Wing of a Fallen Angel was not the kind of item you could toss out and it not make waves.
Ignoring the Church completely, any part of it was a treasure beyond compare. If you had any craft related to the Kabbalah, it was something that could catapult you centuries in one generation.
That was just the most obvious consideration off the top of my head.
Speaking of the Church.
I lifted my head up and saw them get up and leave as well.
And I felt a strange sense of foreboding.
"Gray, do you know how long it's been since the auction ended?" I asked her.
"Um….it's been about thirty minutes, Mr. Waver." She answered.
I tapped the table. "Yvette, did your family give you something if you need to escape in a pinch?"
Yvette perked up, and she shot me a confused look until it seemed she realized something as well. "I have something in an emergency." She nodded. "Do you think something's going to happen?"
I looked at the retreating backs of the Church exorcists and clicked my tongue. "It's best to be prepared."
Maybe it was the Church delegation leaving, but it set in motion a bit of a commotion. Several people got up in quick succession and left in haste, either to report this or something else.
"Hmph, vultures." Miss Luvia approached us. "All of them want to be the first to sell the information," she said with a scoff.
Ah, that's a consideration I hadn't thought about.
"Miss Edelfelt, congratulations on your prize." I said politely.
She forced a smile. "Thank you, Lord El-Melloi II. However, I strangely feel not to be in a celebratory mood despite how beneficial this auction has been for me."
Beyond acquiring a pair of Mystic Eyes that would make most Magi jealous, it seems that her status in her own family should recover due to the favoritism that Lord Schweinorg showed towards her.
"I believe I have you to thank for what happened. Thank you for putting in a good word for me."
"I simply relayed the information you provided. It was a mutually beneficial sequence of events." I responded.
"Even so, you have my thanks." She glanced at the man who ran past us, nearly hitting the door before opening it completely. "Fortunately, or unfortunately, it seems my presence here will be completely ignored after…" She trailed off.
"I believe the other winners will be grateful for the lack of attention on themselves now."
She snorted, then clicked her tongue. "We may get swept up in a storm if we're not careful, Lord El-Melloi II. I have no intention of staying any longer than I need; I'll be deboarding early. There's room for a few more, if you need it." She glanced at the ones next to me.
I considered it carefully. "I will kindly accept your offer, Miss Edelfelt."
It's perhaps best that we get off the train; the sooner the better.
"Are we in danger, Mr. Waver?" Gray asked me this time.
She didn't have the same perception that the others had; her upbringing was…different. Perhaps she didn't quite understand some of what may be happening in the background.
"Gray, don't be stupid. You can't throw around stuff like he did and have people not get greedy." Her Mystic Code spoke up. "If someone knows there's a lot of gold to be made, either you get bandits or knights dressed up like bandits."
Not a wrong interpretation, if a bit dated.
"We don't want to be around when someone comes knocking." I stood up. "Lord Schweinorg can take care of himself. We – "
Before I could finish, the train shook violently, and I nearly fell over. Following it, there was the screeching of metal and a continued jerking of the train, like it was being forcibly put to a stop.
The lights flickered, and I could hear explosive sounds coming from the front. A glimmer of different lights reflected in the windows, even if I couldn't see what was happening. Either the train was the target, or the train had activated its defenses.
The train finally then came to a stop, and it wasn't gentle.
"Already?" grabbed the table to stabilize myself.
How did someone already make a move? The auction only ended a mere half-hour ago. Unless…they already anticipated having to make a move, and things just escalated.
There was another surge. I didn't see what happened, but with a flash of light, the train cars were severed, becoming unconnected as the one we were in slowly wheeled backwards a few feet before stopping.
This wasn't good.
"Ahem." A voice, loud enough that it reverberated through the train. "Is this working? Wonderful! Now, I would like everyone on board this metal monstrosity to please vacate at your earliest convenience. Thank you."
The voice, female, sounded woefully condescending.
I glanced around and swallowed lightly.
The few that remained in this train car with us were…hesitant to follow along.
"...stay here; I'll check things out first." I told them. "Be prepared to run with whatever methods you have." I warned them.
"Mr. Waver, I'll go with you." Gray said firmly.
I weighed my options, and considering she wasn't a Magus and guessing who was responsible, I didn't reject her.
I admit, I was a bit fearful myself as I touched the door and opened it to step outside and greet the cool night air.
I frowned, unhappy that I seemed to be correct in my assumptions.
There were easily a few hundred exorcists present, surrounding the train.
And my presence was likewise noticed; they looked prepared to attack me at a moment's notice. I glanced up at the front of the train, where the controls and engine were housed, and it was seemingly tossed on its side, steam and smoke coming off it.
I noticed the Conductor being pressed to the ground and the Auctioneer being held at a blade's edge.
"Oh, our first people!" That same cheerful, condescending voice rang out. "And who are you?"
I looked at the one talking, a woman wearing normal church attire but with long blonde hair that went to her back.
"Waver Velvet." I introduced myself.
"Oh, Waver Velvet!" She snapped her fingers. "Someone bring me the 'Purge list' that we have for heretics!"
"Right here, Ma'am." Another exorcist came running over and handed a booklet to her.
"Let's see, Waver Velvet, Waver Velt. Ah, here it is. Numbered 247 on our priority purge list. That doesn't seem right….hmm, oh, here it is. Due to his lack of talent and ambition. Still, it seems rather low considering you're a lord of that den of heresy. Oh well." She tossed the book behind her, and someone caught it. "The Lord is merciful and will bring you salvation ahead of time!" She clapped her hands.
"And who might you be?" I asked, doing my best to keep myself calm and composed.
Her eyes gave off the impression of a smile, and her wide grin gave me goosebumps. "Where are my manners? I'm deeply sorry; it's just not often I get to do fieldwork these days. Something about 'unacceptable casualties' and 'unnecessary bloodshed and death' in my evaluations. Everyone calls me Narbareck, Director of the Burial Agency. I'm sure you've heard of me, yes?"
…..that's not good.
"I believe there may be a misunderstanding." I cleared my throat.
"Yeah, Waver here ranks much higher than 247. I'm offended on his behalf. I would like to petition to bring him up to at least the top 100."
I felt a hand on my shoulder, and I relaxed slightly, knowing who it was.
"Hello~" The woman perked up, and her eyes held that same smile to them as if they had found a new toy. "And who might you be?"
"Where are my manners?" He bowed politely. "Wilhelm Henry Schweinorg, at your service."
[Line Break]
Wilhelm POV
Should I have expected something like this?
Perhaps.
Maybe I was, understandably, distracted by something else. I didn't even have time to properly take a gander at the new thing I just bought.
Hell, I spent the last twenty or so minutes just sealing it up properly. Don't want any of that Pandora's Box bullshit to happen again.
And next thing I know, someone attacked the damn train! Even if something like this was expected, it happened very quickly. Like it was already preplanned in the first place.
"Imagine my surprise when I'm relaxing after an auction event. Spending quality time with some close acquaintances. Then next thing I know, some trollop is demanding everyone debark after attacking the train I was enjoying my time on. What do you think, Director Narbareck?"
I, of course, knew who she was as she introduced herself. I was more than familiar with the Burial Agency; I was wary of the Burial Agency. They were one of the groups in this world that could genuinely threaten me if it came to blows.
The woman smiled widely. "Of course, Lord Schweinorg, was it? Yes, the grandson of the infamous Wizard Marshall. Of course, of course."
The surrounding exorcists were ready to fight.
I locked eyes with her, and my swords flashed out.
They weren't aimed at her, but towards the exorcists that were holding down the train staff. A few limbs went flying before the clashing of steel was heard, amongst a few shouts.
My eyes slowly turned to look towards where my swords went because one of them was 'stuck.'
Dawnbreaker was being held.
A nun was holding it between her fingers rather casually.
And I could glimpse her existence immediately.
"Color me surprised; so the Burial Agency has their own pet Divine Spirit."
"Divine Spirit!?" Waver blurted out in shock.
"Ara Ara~" The nun cooed. "Such hurtful words, but I do like being called a pet when it comes out of your mouth."
I could tell she was a Divine Spirit at a glance. I didn't know how it was possible or why she was a member of the Burial Agency, but the facts were standing right in front of me. Admittedly, I didn't know every Burial Agency person based on looks or even name, beyond maybe a few.
Ciel was one of them due to her uniqueness, but it was different for every world-line.
Dawnbreaker erupted in light and was finally freed from her grasp, but she didn't seem perturbed by it.
I just didn't like her touching my sword; she felt…icky to me.
The train staff quickly backed away, getting safely behind me.
"Sister, please mind your words." A stern voice chastised her. A father walked over, holding a bible in hand, giving off a rather…odd aura. "Good evening, grandson of the wizard Marshall. I am Noi Senator Granfatima, the first member of the Burial Agency. I humbly request that you step aside and allow us to conclude our mission."
"Noi~ Don't overstep my authority." The director chided him with her own words.
"Director, we're under strict orders." He responded stoically.
She let out a sigh. "You're such a stickler for the rules. It's just a few heretics; it's doing God's work."
Ciel was around too.
That means there are four members of the Burial Agency here at a minimum.
And one of them was a Divine Spirit who wasn't weak.
"I presume that your 'mission' has to do with an object that I traded to the ones behind me." I leaned on my sword as I stabbed it into the ground. "I feel a certain responsibility here."
"We have been ordained by the Lord to retrieve the Holy Item." He said it plainly. "Nothing will stand in our way."
"Hooh." I admired his confidence.
I could more or less guess they were talking about the Wing and not the Eyes.
The Eyes—they were an unknown; even the Auctioneer people—those who specialize in identifying Mystic Eyes—couldn't tell what they did.
But The Wing of a Fallen Angel—that was a known quantity.
Would they grab the eyes if the opportunity presented itself? Without a doubt, but their main target right now was the Wing I gave away.
I'm still surprised with how quickly they responded.
It's funny though; they haven't even considered that I had more.
"I'm going to have to decline your request and politely but firmly ask you all to fuck off. Thank you." I responded.
"How unfortunate!" Narbareck said 'helplessly.' "It appears we're at an impasse. However, orders are orders~."
"Then please excuse the heavy hand; I will make sure—" Noi started by abruptly stopping as a multicolored portal opened up next to me.
And it wasn't mine.
"You will make sure of what, Cardinal Granfatima?" Zelretch stepped out, tapping his cane against the ground. "Please, continue. Tell me what you're going to do to my grandson."
If the atmosphere was tense before, it has intensified by several degrees now.
They didn't know me; they didn't know what I was capable of. But for Gramps, well, they were now very cautious.
"So many familiar faces. Director Narbareck, I see they let you off your chain; how odd." Zelretch looked at the Burial Agency Director.
"Well, the situation called for drastic action. When a Class-1 Holy Object is identified, a minimum of three Burial Agents are required to deploy, and I was the only one available outside of my two lovely subordinates~."
"Yes, your subordinates." He turned his gaze to the nun. "Miss Kiara Kissyoin, I believe you're going by in this world?"
The nun's smile widened slightly. "The Kaleidoscope, I don't believe we've met here."
"Quite." Gramps said pointedly. "That's normally intentional. Did you look out into the universe and see how small you were, Miss Kissyoin? Is that why you're still clinging to your fleshly body after ascending?"
The nun's eye twitched a little.
After Gramps named her, I knew who she was.
Someone who's capable of becoming a Daemon—turning into a Maradeva—isn't someone easily forgettable.
Basically, a type of evil Buddha god.
Based on what Gramps said, she apparently was spooked into not fully 'ascending' after hitting the threshold.
"Cardinal Granfatima, you're one of the few members of your organization that I actually respect. Please explain to me why you're harassing my grandson. Perhaps this can end with me losing my temper."
To be honest, I completely forgot that I could call Gramps for backup if needed. I don't get up to much in this world-line, so it slipped my mind. I didn't call him, but I'm happy he showed up nonetheless.
"A Class-1 Holy Object has been identified, Lord Zelretch. Per our orders delivered by his Holiness, we are to retrieve it at any cost." He replied.
"Ah, yes, of course. Your obsessed need to lay claim to anything even remotely 'holy.'" Gramps said dismissively. "I don't know if I should admire you or be angered that you seem to treat my presence as merely a hindrance."
I cracked my neck. "I'll take the Divine Spirit; it's been a bit since I've killed a god."
Gramps chuckled. "I suppose I could knock around the Director of the Burial Agency for a bit."
Said Director's expression shifted slightly; despite her keeping her wide grin, it faltered ever so much.
"Hmm, there's a third here as well. Thankfully, I called in a friend to assist." Gramps stated.
"A friend?" I was confused. Did he mean Grandma? Who else would he call in to 'help'?
Help, of course, being subjective in this case.
Though, I had full consideration that I was going to have to get serious against this Divine Spirit if we started fighting.
My answer came quickly, because everyone looked up to the sky, and the shadow of a pirate ship appeared in front of the moon before it came sailing downwards.
"Ahoy!" A familiar voice called out as a flying pirate ship settled above us. "My dear friends. And the fair ladies I meet for the first time." Captain Hook hopped off his ship with a flourish. "Servant Rider, Captain James Bartholomew Hook, at your service."
"Captain Hook." I smiled happily.
I didn't think I'd see him for a long time.
He gave me a tip of his hat. "I was informed by Lord Zelretch that there was a misunderstanding that needed settling. I'm more than happy to assist."
If they weren't already hesitant to make a move, the addition of another 'ally,' that of a Servant as well, would add another layer of trepidation.
However, they weren't backing down.
If anything, they were getting ready to genuinely fight.
I saw the nun's shadow start to enlarge and shift into something more demonic-looking.
I wasn't too sure on the methods the other two would use to fight, but you don't get to be a member of the Burial Agency without being able to back it up.
If I recalled correctly, the Director had once fought Lorelei Barthomeloi to a standstillsome years ago.
Just as I felt like something was going to happen, the door to one of the train cars slammed open.
I could recognize Morgan at a glance as she stood in the threshold. Between her fingers, she rolled something that looked like a golden coin, but it was not. There was an emblem on it that I didn't recognize.
Without any fanfare, she tossed it at the Burial Agency Director, who snatched it out of the air cleanly.
The director's expression flickered from surprise to annoyance.
Morgan crossed her arms. "You heard him, fuck off."
I blinked, genuinely surprised that she was… helping? Standing with us? Not being a vindictive witch?
"Segno di Promessa" Cardinal Granfatima tapped the sign of the cross as he whispered a prayer.
"Oh, how interesting. I haven't seen one of those in centuries." Zelretch mused. "A promise ordained by the Pope, how novel. I believe they ceased making those in the 1200s."
The director's smile slowly turned to a frown. "I recognize the Segno di Promessa. Cardinal Granfatima, bear witness."
"In the name of our Lord, I bear witness to the Segno di Promessa." He stated. "Please state your name and your affiliation, Madam."
"Morgan Le Fay." She said casually. "I'm owed a debt by your church for helping build it in its infancy."
"...and what is your request?" The director was forced out.
"Leave and don't bother anyone here again." She said dismissively.
There was a long pause; I wasn't quite sure what was happening.
The 'coin' in his hand glowed and burst into a bright light before disappearing. "...the promise is recognized; the request shall be fulfilled." She took a deep breath. "Recall the Eight Sacrament, and withdraw back to Headquarters; our mission has ended."
She did not sound happy about that.
"How unfortunate." Zelretch said a bit mockingly. "Perhaps next time." He waved them goodbye.
We stood there and watched for a few minutes as they properly pulled out. They actually had helicopters they used to ambush the train, parked not far away.
"What exactly just happened?" I asked, still confused.
"Zelretch ran a hand through his beard. "Segno di Promessa, it was something the Church handed out when it was…younger. A promise that was to be fulfilled by the Church using its foundations to bind it. Quite the interesting little thing, very valuable as well. As long as the request wasn't beyond a certain threshold, you could just about ask for anything, and they would be forced to accept. You can imagine why they don't make them anymore, especially after the Church got its own foundations established."
Ah, I believe I understood then.
Basically, it was a promissory note of any 'debts' or what have you they owe.
"Now then." Gramps clapped his hands. "Miss Le Fay, it's been quite a while."
Morgan's gaze wasn't pleasant, but it also wasn't particularly hateful towards him. "I'd hardly act like we're acquaintances. We've met once for a brief moment."
"Yes, you were still Merlin's student then, weren't you?" Zelretch nodded.
I didn't know that; one of the memories escaped, it seems.
Morgan scowled, and that was her cue to leave, it seemed.
I just shook my head because I was having a hard time getting any kind of read on her.
"Captain Hook." I held my hand out. "It seems like a fight isn't going to happen, but I'm thankful for you stopping by." I shook his hand.
"I am happy to assist. Lady Acrueid is asleep, and Lord Zelretch requested my presence."
"Not to sound ungrateful, but why are you here, Gramps? And equally, why did you call Captain Hook over?" I asked.
"Let's talk inside." He put a hand on my shoulder. "I presume I will be welcome without a ticket?" He looked at the auctioneer and the conductor, who had been taking cover behind us since the 'standoff.'
"Your presence is our honor, Lord Zelretch." The auctioneer was quick with the invitation and the flattery despite her slightly haggard appearance.
"Wonderful!" He smiled. "And Waver, it's been awhile. How have you been?"
"...I have been well."
"Spectacular. Miss Gray." Zelretch nodded to her as well. Gray just made a small noise of confusion as Zelretch walked in without any hesitation.
@***@
"Good evening, ladies." Gramps addressed everyone as we entered my room.
Salem and Venelana were in there with Olga and Trisha.
Salem stayed back with Venelana at my request to help protect them in case things escalated too much.
"L-Lord Zelretch!?" Olga squeaked out.
"Miss Animusphere, how lovely to see you once more. You've grown up since I've last seen you, but you're just as beautiful as always."
Olga responded with an unintelligible but happy-sounding noise.
Trish, contrary to her, was completely silent, as if taking a well-practiced deferral position next to her. Presumably from her years of being behind the 'side character' when Olga was interacting with anyone of status, I would guess.
"May I introduce Captain Hook?" I made sure to do the proper greetings.
"It's my honor to meet such a wonderful group of ladies." Hook took off his hat and did a polite bow.
"...From the fairy tale?" Olga blinked.
"Not all fairy tales are without a sprinkle of truth." Hook winked.
"Oof." Zelretch let out a breath as he took one of the empty chairs. "Venelana, Salem, as always, it's a pleasure." He said, sitting down with a bit of a sigh. "It's rare for me to get up and get some exercise."
"Zelretch."
"Grandfather."
I don't think Salem had it in her to call him 'Grandfather' like Venelana does. But I would be so happy to see her do it just because it would be funny.
"Not that I'm complaining, but was something about to turn sideways enough that you had to pop up?" I asked him again.
Zelretch hummed. "I didn't want a fight to actually happen. Venelana here was giving me an update on the situation, and I decided to come over. I was hoping that my presence would stop things from escalating, and additionally, Captain Hook as well."
Captain Hook flicked his hat with a smile.
"But alas, I underestimated how intent they were on acquiring the Fallen Angel Wing that you decided to flaunt around."
"You were talking a lot of shit for someone who didn't want a fight."
"Well, I most certainly was not happy with them. And my words weren't going to be the deciding factor anyways." He shrugged. "Nonetheless, even if I didn't achieve my goal, it's a good thing we didn't fight. The Church is an important institution to the continuation of the Human Order, as you know. Damaging their foundations would just be detrimental in the long run. Their Burial Agency does in fact do quite a bit of work to protect humanity."
I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, yeah. I'm sure their pet Divine Spirit helps them so much."
"That's an exception. Feel free to kill her if you have the chance. She's a potential Beast candidate after all."
I felt a chill go down my spine at that.
That was most definitely not something to mess around with.
Even Captain Hook's eyes widened as Gramps said that.
"Now, the matter at hand. Since I'm here, let me see those eyes you acquired. And I certainly do hope it was worth the commotion of you taking out that Wing to trade for them."
Well, why not?
I took out the container with the eyes and set it on the table.
There were a great many seals on it at this point, with plenty of talismans slapped on as well.
The silence was kind of eerie as Gramps stared at the eyes. If I'm not mistaken, I kind of felt like they stared back.
Gramps also had a very uncharacteristic seriousness to him now.
He tapped the table almost impatiently.
"Well, are you going to give me shit about what I did to get them?" I crossed my arms.
"I…commend you, Wilhelm. Well done." He said very bluntly.
"Any idea what they are?"
"None whatsoever." He admitted without hesitation. "A rare occurrence. But regardless, I am overwhelmingly glad that it's you who got them and not someone else."
Well, even Gramps just admitted that the commotion I caused was worth it.
But seriously, what the fuck were these eyes?
[Line Break]
A/N
That basically wraps up the Train Arc; he's leaving next chapter.
For those who didn't know, Morgan actually went over to Rome and helped build up the Church during the era of Charlemagne. Merlin was there too, apparently. This was, of course, after Camelot fell and Morgan stopped being quite so psychotic.
If you want to read 10 chapters ahead or support me, visit my p.a.t.r.e.o.n.c.o.m / astoryforone
I also have a boosty if you can't use the above under the same name.