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Reporting the results of the night's operation to Galliasta was going to be an interesting conundrum.

On the one hand, I could be rest assured that the Tresillo would be reporting to him directly. Regardless of whatever position I've inserted myself in as Galliasta's 'representative', they still followed Galliasta's direction with remarkable fidelity. As such, he would be aware of how I'd organized their forces around the airport, as well as my order to stand down once the Einzbern bait had entered the city. Consequently, he would also be aware that I judged the arriving Einzbern to be bait, but not why I had done so. The amount of information we got from this expenditure, at least from what the Tresillo would be aware of, would not have supported the risk of coming out in force as we had.

Of course, all of that wouldn't be an issue should I explain to Galliasta that I'd made contact with the Einzbern Master, had a nice chat over tea about what she was doing here, her plan for the airport and also that her Servant was Berserker thank you very much. Militarily speaking that was a wealth of actionable intelligence, nevermind that we had a tracker, sort of, on her as well.

It wasn't until the high of a near death experience had passed and I allowed myself time to think on the conversation that I realize I'd been thoroughly outmaneuvered.

The nature of the Holy Grail War was naturally antagonistic. Only one Master and one Servant could win, no more, no less. Alliances of convenience, like that done between Galliasta and McRemitz, were likely to happen but lasted only as long as the larger threat existed. The larger an alliance, the more likely fissures would occur between its members, until the organization falls to infighting and collapses under its own weight. This meant that, logically speaking, there were very few reasons for positive interactions between competitors. It could be rest assured that, as long as all actors were operating rationally, the only real interaction between the competitors for the war would be to ally against a mutual foe or extreme violence in an effort to rid one's enemies of this mortal coil.

However, there was another reason for the Master of one pair and the Servant of another pair to talk to one another.

The likeliest reason for one to talk to another, beyond the talk of an Alliance, was if one were prospecting for a back up Servant or Master to take up should their current partner….retire. While Archers may have the freedom of taking their sweet time in searching for another partner what with their Independent Action skill, most other Servants didn't have that luxury. Bereft of the mana supplied to them by their Master, death would be a foregone conclusion and while I imagined that most Servants wouldn't want to dwell too much on the fact their lives were tied to vulnerable sacs of flesh and blood, it was still a significant concern. As such, operating once again as a rational actor, Servants and Masters with less than reliable partners would do their best to scout out potential backups if at all possible.

As such, what would the likely response be should my Master, a somewhat unhinged, morally bankrupt fellow, realized that I'd had a pleasant conversation with a Master. Not just any Master mind you, but the Einzbern representative, the one whom he himself had concluded was the greatest threat to the Association winning the war. On top of that, what would he conclude once he realized that the Einzbern Master supposedly saw me in a positive light, not even so much as threatening me directly with any sort of bodily harm?

Suffice to say the response would be disastrous. Either Galliasta would consider that I was already maneuvering to betray him and betray his secrets to the Einzberns, or he'd do nothing and the trust between the two of us would decay over the course of the next few days. On top of that, if I don't inform him of my interaction with Einzbern now, then it would be taken as proof of guilt.

I sighed. I simply wasn't thinking clearly at the time, the surprise of meeting my opponent and realizing how young she looked as well as the potential for imminent death distracting me significantly. Of course she wouldn't just be a little girl, the Einzberns had been fighting over this prize for over two hundred years, they'd have a greater understanding of the realities of Master-Servant dynamics far in excess of anyone else in the war. Matter of fact, I wouldn't be surprised if they'd written treatises on the subject that was gathering dust somewhere in their libraries. For all I know her intention had been to talk to me like that in the first place, sowing doubt between me and Galliasta. Her family certainly had a knack for deception, considering the trick with the plane.

I sighed again, deeper and more long suffering than before. If nothing else, I was thankful that Galliasta rarely looked over the Tresillo's reports. Even assuming they'd send their post-op to the man, odds of him immediately responding to it were slim.

We'd reconvened at one of the many buildings that Galliasta's corporation owned, some empty apartment designed as a hideyhole for the Tresillo. While there were other such buildings scattered around the city, this one had the advantage of being both close enough to the airport that we could reconvene quickly while also being a healthy distance away from the roads that the Einzberns likely would have picked. The Tresillo were scattered throughout the common area we'd taken over as our meeting room, their gear still haphazardly worn as conversation abounded. The team leaders were huddled in a corner together, their whispers interrupted only when I spoke to the entire group on something or other. It was distinctly freeform, much more casual than the military groups I was familiar with. Then again, this was a mercenary group, not one of my professional mage corps. Then again, again, they were also Hispanians.

The mercenaries seemed….well, they didn't seem quite that upset on the aftermath of the operation. I was certain that if I'd been in their position my irritation would have become a tangible aura at the way the op had been executed, at least according to the knowledge I'd be privy to. Being forced into such an operation on the fly after having been grilled by me for the past two days wouldn't have fostered positive feelings towards me. Especially considering that the surprise operation had accomplished the supremely worthwhile tactical result of 'nothing at all'. The debrief had lasted two hours or so as we looked through the specific issues that had come up during the operation. I'd intended on it being a relatively quick session, but as I questioned the mercenaries I was reminded once more about the differences between them and the 203rd.

In the aftermath of the second world war, the requirements placed upon my armed forces drastically changed. It was no longer necessary to field grand armies in the conquering of other nations, the face of war had changed, and while other nation states had taken time to come to that conclusion, I'd nudged what I could to further things along. There'd been doctrinal changes all across the board, ripped from what I could remember off my education in the Cold War, though the changes I'd instilled into OZEV's Mage Corps had been of my own design. The Hispania-bred Tresillo had been affected by that as a consequence.

The primary importance of mages had been their versatility and their ability to project force. The degree by which this was possible varied between individual mage classifications of course, but the top of the top were able to apply pressure far in excess of what a single person would be able to conduct. Strictly speaking, combining mages into battalions was an inefficient use of their talents, though a permissible one due to the nature of the first and second world wars as well as the relative infancy of the technology at the time. When the enemy would mass a large group of mages to strike at your front lines, there would be very little an early twentieth century military would be able to do to repel the threat except by using their own mages. With the readjustment of the world order after the second war, this was no longer the case.

In a world where significant military action prompted, at best, significant diplomatic and economic penalties or, at worst, concentrated nuclear fire, the age of grand armies striding the continent was over. More to the point, with growing education rates of the global populace, it was becoming easier to train up halfway decent mages. Even assuming a conventional military would defy the economic, diplomatic and human costs of an invasion, it would no doubt fall apart from guerrilla action led by enemy mages. It would be a slaughterhouse, all precipitated by the very basic fact that a group of mages loose and disciplined and decentralized within an enemy population would always extract a horrific toll.

As such, I moved ahead of the curve on that front. I prepared my Mage Corps by fracturing them into smaller, more versatile, units. I gave extensive research and thought into extended guerrilla warfare in urban and rural environments and applied that into our Mage doctrine. I'd pushed and pushed for more stealthy, more stable and, most importantly, more efficient computation devices so that a given team's combat effectiveness would rise exponentially no matter the situation. Koenig's initial foray had shown a taste of what such techniques were capable of, and in the aftermath of the war I had given him the task of educating my mages in comparable strategies.

I'd mocked Laverne's insinuation of OZEV Black Ops but upon reflection I could understand why someone unfamiliar with the inner workings of the organization would jump to such an unsavory conclusion. From an outsider's perspective what I was doing must have looked incredibly threatening, an expansion of the Federation's experiments into 'politically reliable' mages except expanded into an elite branch of the military on top of what fears others may still have had of my own honestly degrading skills as a mage. It would have been even worse from an uneducated bystander's perspective, the comparably straightforward horrors of saturation bombardment and a wave of rolling steel replaced with invisible phantoms and building paranoia. In a world that was used to the barbarity of early twentieth century combat, the sophisticated game of cloak and daggers I was preparing for would have been dangerously provocative.

Nonetheless, I had no choice. As such, the Tresillo were an indirect consequence of my own actions, though not one I would have been able to stop in any case. You see, throughout the second world war Hispania's government had opted for a policy of careful neutrality, a move I couldn't help but respect really. After all, in the aftermath of a fairly brutal civil war, why would any government seek to dip its toes into a foreign conflict with very little to gain? Despite that, the Hispanians were not fools and they were certainly not idle. From my briefings on the situation, their government had concluded that whatever OZEV was doing with its mages was almost certainly the next step in modern warfare and had sought to copy my Mage Corps wholesale. From doctrines, equipment, strategies, tactics, Hispania bothered poor Elya with constant attempts at acquiring such information from the end of the second world war all the way to when Hispania finally decided to join us.

Still, it took decades for them to finally do so, and in the interim whatever scraps of knowledge and tactics they'd stolen they expanded into proper doctrine, no matter how half-assed and ill thought out. The worst thing was that they only really figured out the bare basics of what we were doing, an outsider's view of OZEV's operations and adapted it to the needs of their government. However, they didn't understand the context of our operations, never really figuring out that the age of conquest by arms was over until they'd dumped an unwise amount of their national budget on foolish military designs patterned around 'their' mage doctrine.

Fast forward several decades and by the time they'd been inducted into OZEV proper, the damage was already done. My Strategic Command tore their hair out and prematurely aged as they sought to fix years of faulty and outdated doctrine and bring it up to the standards of a member state. By that time, a significant fraction of their mage population had already retired into the private sector, a migration we more or less allowed to happen. The information they held was outdated at best and proliferation outside of OZEV would only weaken anyone that would adapt those strategies. As such the migration continued, quietly observed, and typically resulting in several likely outcomes. They would either disappear into the countryside where their outdated modes of warfare would die with them, be installed into government or private positions as head of security and subsequently weaken them…...or go completely independent and establish their own mercenary corporations that were more or less harmless to OZEV overall.

That was the origin of Tresillo, a bunch of washed up military officers trained in watered down strategies and doctrines I'd spearheaded and which I'd allowed to go free because I didn't think it was worth the trouble. If the irony wasn't so rich and bitter I'd cry.

By the time the meeting had passed I was mentally organizing my thoughts on how to deal with this unpleasant revelation. After giving it a bit of a think, I didn't think it was actually too bad, as much as I might have felt it to be the case. It wasn't like I was leading the Tresillo against a modern mage force, the differences in aptitude and strategy wouldn't be immediately obvious in any foreseeable scenario in this war. I was fighting a group of magi in a pseudo secret war, not a crack Germanian unit after all. Still, I wasn't entirely certain whether any changes I could enact onto their operational capacity in the limited time that I had would make it in time to enact an appreciable difference in the war. Nonetheless, it wouldn't do to criticize the mercenaries on factors out of their control, factors that had been in motion since before they were born really.

Funny thing about that really, despite the grilling I'd done to them they still seemed relatively cheerful, though I had no idea why. Perhaps it was the fact that the mission itself was relatively painless for them, or maybe it was the fact that compared to trying to kill me for the better part of a day, watching a pretty girl drive around in a car was a vacation. Well whatever it was, it kept them in high enough spirits and by the time the meeting had ended I allowed them to phase out of the room, mercenaries chatting with each other about meaningless drivel as I closed my eyes and relaxed slightly.

Servants didn't need to sleep, an interesting condition that I had been taking full advantage off. I'd always made sure that my operations, my wars, had a healthy amount of preparation baked into it. That I'd been dropped into a conflict I'd had no prior experience in, in a situation bereft of a support system I was innately familiar with, was something of a nightmare situation actually. It felt too much like the beginning of my time in this world, the life I knew stripped away and forced to fend for myself, though admittedly the form I was in this time was quite a bit more advantageous than a newly born baby. I hadn't slept in this form yet, and even if it was no longer necessary there was some deep psychological inertia that made me….if not long for it, then deeply appreciative of it.

Not that I could afford to sleep anyway, the other competitors would be decades ahead of me in terms of preparation, and I had a scant few days to close the distance. Einzbern had made that fact perfectly clear, what with the sheer strength of her Servant as well as the way she'd effortlessly played me at the same time that I thought I had one over her. It disturbed me that such a young girl had such far reaching plans though. Did she conceptualize them on the fly? Did she conceive of them before hand? It was impossible to know for sure.

I opened my eyes, my gaze flickering towards the laptop in front of me. The phone tracker had done its job, the device still cheerily transmitting itself somewhere in the outskirts of the city. I'd vaguely recalled Galliasta commenting that they had property somewhere in that area, which would make sense if that was where Ilya had retreated to. At the same time, it could just as easily be that she'd taken up residence in one of the many other locations around the city and-

"Caster, are you there?"

I squeezed my eyes close, sighing. Speak of the devil and he will appear.

"Yes, Master?"

I kept my tone cool and composed, painfully aware that I was about due for a status report to him now. I'd been delaying it in my head as much as I could, thinking that as soon as I found a practical excuse I'd be able to leverage that into something actionable. Alas, I still had nothing, and I mentally braced myself for his castigation.

"Are you done with that reconnaissance mission now?"

I adopted a smooth, professional, tone even as alarm bells rang in my head. "Yes, Master. As your sources had indicated, we made contact with the Einzbern asset but-"

"No, no, tell me later. It's not important right now, though I'm sure you did a fine job. I have other matters to discuss."

I paused at that, a frown creeping onto my face. I felt both relieved and somewhat put off at the same time, surely a major operation such as this would warrant something more than just 'I'm sure you did fine?' Considering the amount of effort we'd just expended to carrying out an off the cuff reconnaissance operation at his insistence, I was expecting something more than mild dismissal. Nonetheless, that meant I didn't need to explain the depressing extent by which the Einzbern Master had manipulated me, so I was content to push that as a problem for future me.

The fact that even a delay on this conversation merely strengthened her ploy was not lost on me. Damned if I do, damned if I don't, damned conniving Einzberns.

"What would you desire, Master?"

"You recall Bazett yes? You remember your report on her?"

I gave the mental impression of a nod. The last time we'd seen her, or perhaps more accurately the last time I'd seen her, was her approaching the Ryuudou Temple. It had been an interesting study, observing what had, until earlier tonight, been my only exposure to another Master-Servant pair. They seemed to work together well, though my observation was rather cut short by a crimson blur I could only assume was Lancer's work. Rather rude.

"Good. Bazett is still missing, and my own exploration into the topic hasn't revealed anything substantial. I want you to go to the Ryuudou Temple and find her."

I blinked at that, my frown deepening. McRemitz and her Lancer didn't seem the sort to just disappear, neither did their circumstances last time I saw them reveal anything significant. I wasn't entirely certain why they went to the temple, but as both were present it likely had something to do with more than just reconnaissance of some sort. That they disappeared shortly after arriving at the temple was concerning, pointing to some kind of enemy action.

"Understood, Master. Considering the relative unknown threat I'd be dealing with, I would like to request-"

"Yes, yes, take what you need." came the reflexive reply. "Whatever you need, you have, you should know that by now."

I suppressed the flinch of irritation at Galliasta's callousness as he ended the call, allowing a few moments to pass before I gave an explosive sigh. A few of the Tresillo nearby glanced over at me, but didn't say anything. A few seconds passed and I closed my eyes.

All things considered, the amount of freedom I was being given was actually rather nice, the resources I was given in order to carry out the needs of the war was even better. That the optimal method for Galliasta was to leverage his resources from a position of safety, I imagine that in his position I'd do the same thing. I certainly didn't resent it, it was the most optimal strategy to take, but something about the way he operated rubbed me off the wrong way. Perhaps it was the arrogance? That wasn't quite it though, he'd certainly prepared for the war rather extensively given the circumstance.

My eyes opened, my attention snapping to the remaining mercenaries. One of them flinched, a face I'd committed to memory blinking as our eyes met. I smiled.

"Lieutenant, would you and your men accompany me for an outing of sorts?"

I

As a manager, it was very important not to overload your employees with too many things at once. Any project could be accomplished with a measured approach and a steady pace that didn't impose any undue stress upon one's personnel. Imposition of an employee's time and effort outside of previously agreed upon time and limits, even in the accomplishment of a project, typically had long lasting negative effects on the employee that would need to be dealt with delicately. Of course, there would be occasions where one would have no choice and buckle up, but as much as possible I tried to avoid that.

This was the reason I had opted not to bring all of the Tresillo with me like last time. With the rather lackluster conclusion to that operation, and the debrief afterwards, I was leery of bringing them all in for yet another reconnaissance mission that might lead nowhere. They'd done good so far, and I wanted to reward them for that.

There were a handful, however, who hadn't. As such, I was well within my rights to drag them along as punishment for their disappointing performance.

Lieutenant Anton Laurent of Ghost squad. Quiet, dependable and the leader of the team that had so thoroughly screwed up in the first diagnostic exam with me. They, like the rest of the Tresillo, had been instructed to come at me with the best that they had, to kill me like their life depended on it. The result? Where Laverne had tried to take me down with focused explosive fire and the fourth team had tried to do it by blowing up the entire floor on my head, Laurent had led Ghost on an attempt to take me down in close quarters combat. Close quarters combat with a mage, while using their fists. No knives, no guns, no weapons. Fists.

I would have found it cute, if it wasn't so very insulting. Laurent had yet to properly feel the sting of his failure to take me seriously, and so another mission where the rest of his co-workers would get to go home seemed good enough as a punishment. Assuming he didn't screw anything up this time as well anyway.

It was snowing as I approached the mountain, a thin layer of snow slowly enveloping the city in it's wintry embrace. Mount Enzou was a greatly spiritual place, natural defenses in place that greatly inhibiting access to it by the forcing spirits like myself to take the front gate. I wasn't exactly sure why this was so, if one had intended to create a defensive arrangement around the place then surely leaving such an obvious entryway was a weakness? If I'd been in charge of constructing whatever esoteric defenses this place had, I would have carved out some hidden path towards the temple hidden in the forest and had that serve as the secret path. At the very least it would have been more secure than what they currently had.

I'd sent Laurent and the rest through the forest. That McRemitz and her Servant were missing implied a certain degree of danger, and I wasn't about to send my resources into the most obvious entrance throughout the entire mountain. I didn't go too deep into the details, I didn't want to be the sort of person that micromanages things after all, so I trusted Laurent to carry out the details as appropriate. The added bonus was that if he screwed up again, he would only have himself to blame.

"Ghost one, status?"

"Situation nominal, commander." came Laurent's quiet voice. He had tried speaking in Akinese at the beginning, but while I appreciated the effort his attempt to do so had been completely unintelligible. Not that I was bullying the man or anything, but the fact of the matter is that as his native language was Frankish, the transition into speaking Akinese was perhaps a bit too much. I was out to punish his lackluster performance, not his ability to speak a language he'd never needed to before and as I'd picked up plenty of the language by this point, it was no trouble accommodating him.

"Good. Set up for observation and inform me if anything's amiss. If you or your men are threatened, disengage."

"Acknowledged."

I sighed at that. Good, that was one problem dealt with for now. Though that wasn't to say that everything was solved.

The last time I'd been here, things had been relatively straightforward. The stairway had been crowded with the usual sort of traditionalist types, and moving in among the crowd had been easy enough. The biggest impediment to my approach at the time had been that of a monk talking to me, and only because I'd wandered into the temple's private area. The crowding I'd experienced last time I was here would be completely absent what with it being the middle of the night, and since the last time I'd left a familiar here things had been calm and quiet.

So why was it now, that there were police stationed at the entryway?

There was a heavy police presence at the foot of the mountain. Not so much that would imply an ongoing situation, but certainly enough that something had happened. Yellow police lines crisscrossed the grounds, a handful of officers with steaming cups of coffee in their hands as they braced themselves against the snow, grim eyes scouring the foot of the mountain. There were a few dogs in the vicinity, of the working with the police variant and not the random stray kind, and they seemed just as alert and vigilant as their masters.

Concerning, very much concerning.

I walked up to one of the figures, my own body invisible to the world, in the hopes that there was perhaps some convenient paper or article detailing why exactly they were all out here. No such luck, and the guards themselves seemed withdrawn and grim, a sight I'd seen more than once on the trenches. A few of the younger ones didn't seem to be handling it very well.

Next to the police officer I'd peeked on was a dog, and I don't know whether the common assertion that dogs could sense things outside of the world was true or not, but it looked as though she was staring straight at me. Her eyes were hard and unyielding, her body tense and solid in contrast to her human's relative anxiety. I knew that even if I was completely intangible and the dog's attack would be less than useless, that the creature was willing to throw down against me if it meant protecting her master. I knelt down to pet the animal and it seemed as though she relaxed slightly to my touch, she snorted slightly, a mist of warm air and saliva spreading through me as her tail wagged.

I didn't have a lot of data to go on really, but that the local police had considered a force of roughly a dozen police officers on the scene told me more about the severity with which they were treating this than anything else. The fact of the matter was that something happened at the Temple, something that had alerted the mundane authorities in the city within the past few days. That this was related to the Grail War was going to be extremely high, especially considering the fact that McRemitz and Lancer had been here during that time period.

I walked through the barricade, my figure invisible to the world, leaving the dog and her master behind as I began to climb.

The journey up the mountain was quiet. The light from the base of the mountain, from the gentle lights of the street lamps and the activity of overworked police officers, slowly died. The skies above me were dark, heavy clouds obscuring any possibility of light, the only thing accompanying me the sound of my heartbeat psychosomatically reminding me of my mortality even as a spirit. I imagined that if I was still mortal, or if I didn't have the ability to scour this entire mountain clean of life, that I would feel thoroughly disquieted at my journey.

The courtyard was dark and lonely when I arrived, the once warm temple now strangely desolate, a light blanket of snow underlining the degree of its abandonment. There was a wealth of leaves and twigs littering the area, bright yellow rolls of police warning tape and orange traffic cones blocking off the entrances to the temple. I wandered the temple's exteriors, the chittering of distant insects my only companion as I waded through the dark aura that seemed to have visited this place while I was gone. Ghost team would occasionally vocalize to each other, the mercenaries having set up positions surrounding the temple, as I retraced the steps I'd taken days ago.

The tunnel was collapsed when I found it.

I manifested myself in the physical plane. Cerulean light flashed briefly in the dark of night, my light reflecting upon the falling snowflakes as my body was once again clothed in my 'uniform'. My shoes touched the powdery ground, my hand reaching out as I ignored the plethora of police warnings and danger symbols scattered around the area. The damage was recent, very recent, though the cause of such a cave in was difficult to ascertain. I couldn't tell if it was triggered with magic or with simple explosives, though the damage was centered some distance into the tunnel itself. If it was a trap, it wouldn't have triggered by random tourists, one would have had to fully commit to the exploration before the trap triggered. I wasn't sure if the tunnel had collapsed before or after the monks had died, insufficient data.

Something had gone wrong here. Whatever it was that McRemitz and her Lancer were up to, there was very little doubt in my mind that they were involved. I wasn't entirely certain why they'd butcher the monks, they were a nice enough sort when I'd visited, but perhaps their lives had been required for some kind of ritual? Despite the tunnel's collapse, there didn't seem to be any other overt signs of combat either. Lancer didn't strike me as a cautious or stealthy individual and assuming that this war's Assassin was active, unless it managed a decapitating strike on both Master and Servant I couldn't help but imagine there'd be some sign that they'd put up a fight.

Curious. Very curious.

"Overwatch."

The sudden call lured me out of my thoughts. "Yes?"

"Ghost three has identified a humanoid thermal signature. Located within the premises of the temple."

I turned around, dismissing the caved in tunnel for the moment as my gaze focused on the dark entrance some distance from me. I hadn't noticed at the time, focused as I was on the tunnel, but it seemed that the police lines in this particular section of the temple had been torn down.

"Understood. Establish a defensive perimeter around the temple, if the police or any member of the government climbs up the stairs tell me. If anything else passes the threshold, shoot them."

"Acknowledged."

My dress fluttered in the non existent breeze as I entered the temple, my eyes alighting on the walls. Where the outside of the temple had seemed pristine and peaceful, if neglected by time and decay, the inside looked like some kind of haunted house display. Blood stained the walls, splatter patterns on every other surface with the occasional pool of it decorating the ground. The halls were frigid, the temple too old to have had the advantage of any modern heating instruments. With a twitch of my will I hovered over the ground, noting the lack of bodies; apparently the police had already laid claim to them, replacing them with dusty white outlines. Casual observation seemed to suggest they were fleeing from their assailant before they were butchered.

The main hall held the largest amount of damage, and it was clear to me that some sort of battle had occurred here. Broken walls, shattered columns, a collection of footsteps and blood smears that had made the previous hallways look positively demure in comparison. Without knowing the demeanor and capabilities of my fellow Servants, I couldn't tell if all this destruction was something one of my kind had been responsible for or not. My eyes alighted on a nearby column, a spherical chunk of it having been blown out. Was the damage done by some kind of magically enhanced firearm, or had it been done by a Servant's weapon? Impossible to know from a glance.

My eyes flickered to the middle of the room. This had been where the center of the butchery happened, judging from the sheer amount of blood splattered across the floor. There were outlines here, perhaps a dozen bodies or so, but the sheer violence enacted here meant that the only area of the floor absent the color crimson were the few spots below the bodies that had managed to stay dry before the police had retrieved them.

And there, in the middle of all that, was a woman.

Well not so much a woman, perhaps it was better to describe her as a girl, though her apparent age was somewhat tricky to determine. Silver hair past her shoulders, blue and white robes that had a passing similarity to the vestments of the Church, her gloved hands were clenched together as though in silent prayer. Her back was to me, but judging from the tilted position of her head I could imagine her eyes to be closed in prayer. Despite the blood, she seemed completely pristine, her presence not distracting the crime scene in any noticeable way.

I landed myself on the sole sections of the floor that hadn't been suffused in blood, a respectful distance from the girl. Despite the apparent light attire I'd disdained before, my 'uniform' was remarkably comfortable. The sheer chill of our environment never breached my clothes, and more to the point it felt soothing. I felt more protected here, with my dress and my jacket, than if I'd been wearing my old uniform; as though I was wearing something of true weight rather than the thin pieces of cloth the concubines had given me. Not that I would have worn that dreadful outfit here, anyway. Civilian clothes were all well and good, but if the girl was with the Church, then this was very much a Holy Grail affair. I couldn't very well look like...that, first impressions were important after all.

"Good evening, sinner." the girl called out, her voice serene. "I must comment that Ryuudou Temple is only open to the public from the hours of nine in the morning to five in the afternoon. You may need to return at some later date, though considering the tragedy that had occurred in this place you may need to wait a while longer to pay your respects."

I paused at that, choosing my words carefully. "While I'd agree that visiting hours ended a long time ago, I'd say that the presence of the police would be a far greater impediment to entering the temple, wouldn't you say?"

There's a pause at that, the girl's tone shifting. "True, but does that not make you both a sinner and a criminal? Flouting the laws set forth by modern society would be damning enough, but to do so on the site of such a massacre would not reflect well on you with the police so desperate to solve it."

This time, I felt my eye twitch at her words. "Sinner eh? I must admit, that's a rather unorthodox way of greeting someone. I imagine that if I was of a more sensitive disposition, that I'd think you were trying to pick a fight with me, little miss."

"Are we not all sinners, in the eyes of god?" she sighed, a rather morose sound coming from her. "Are we not all to love each other, as children under god's care? If my words upset you, then please be comforted by the fact that I do so out of love."

Her hands reach out, almost hovering over the outlines of the dead. "For you see, it is not so much a simple concept of me 'picking a fight with you' as it is 'explaining the truth to all who would listen'. That you are a sinner is a given, as all who live on this earth be sinners until forgiven by god's love. That you are a criminal is also a given, as you have flouted the law of man to enter here. I do not pronounce these words with condemnation but with mercy. So often reality is obscured by lies and half-truths, I would say that the times behooves us all to be all the more forthright for it."

With that, it seemed that she was finished with whatever ritual she'd been busy with. The nun stands and in that same moment the blood around her moves as well. It took a few seconds for me to realize it hadn't been blood at all. Cloth encircled her, the color of crimson, wrapping around her like a snake before eventually settling upon her shoulders as a shroud. She turns around, golden eyes framing an angelic face, before she blinks. After a few seconds, she speaks again.

"Although, judging from your outfit, you may be a tad too forthright in another direction." she says, with a thoughtful expression. "To walk about in such scandalous clothing so casually, attracting the lascivious gaze of men. Beyond simply a sinner and a criminal, are you a pervert as well? Truly, you wallow in the avarice of earthly sins."

I take a deep, steadying, breath and count to five before I released it. The nun continues to look on curiously. "I'm going to ignore that, because I really don't know what I would say to you if I had to respond to that-"

"To be so blind to yourself, that you do not truly know yourself?" the nun comments, her voice turning pitiful and sad. "Truly, that is a most crippling deficiency. For if one cannot know oneself, how can one know others?"

I stared at her, my blue eyes matching her golden ones. From what I could see, the girl didn't seem to be deliberately trying to irritate me. Then again, she could simply be a skilled dissembler, I wasn't so arrogant to think that my skills would automatically triumph against everyone I meet. That didn't make me any less infuriated at her sanctimonious, irrational, tripe, but at least the anger cleared my head a moment. I hovered above the ground, moving closer to her as she merely looked on, unafraid.

"Judging by your outfit, you're not exactly part of CSI Fuyuki." I comment airily. "May I presume that you are the arbiter for the war I've been hearing so much about?"

She blinks at that, a moment of confusion, before covering her lips with a gloved hand. Her giggle was both curiously whimsical and infuriatingly saccharine. "Oh dear. Well, in a way I suppose I am? Though I must apologize, I realize I'm being somewhat rude aren't I?"

Her hands reach out to her sides, grabbing the layers of her skirt and executing a curtsy. "My name is Caren Ortensia, and I am here on behalf of my Father, Kotomine Kirei, the arbiter of this Holy Grail War. If I did not miss my guess, may I presume that you are the Servant Caster?"

I sigh, my shoulders relaxing at her words. If she was here on behalf of the Church's arbiter, then things were likely to not be as bad as I thought they may be. I looked around the halls of the ruined temple. Despite that, I didn't feel like handing her a straight answer, not after her irritating performance earlier. "Oh? May I ask how, exactly, you came to that conclusion?"

Ortensia blinked at that, her hands folding at the front. "Well, I could say that your outfit itself revealed to me that you weren't normal- that is to say, that you did not seem like a mundane member of the population or a magus. Given that fact, and my awareness of the Holy Grail War, I would assume that you were either a Master or a Servant. A Master would not walk about a crime scene such as this without assistance of some kind, and it's

more likely for a Servant to walk into such a dangerous situation. On top of that, you do not seem to have any visible means to combat an enemy as a Lancer or Saber would, as well as the fact that you seem capable of engaging me in intelligent conversation. Considering that the Servant Assassin has already been summoned, you could only be Caster."

She paused for a moment, looking expectantly at me as I quirked my eyebrow. "At the beginning of all that, you said "I could say that'. So since that's not what you intended to say, what would you say instead?"

The nun smiles brightly, pleased. "Well I would say that Father Kotomine is aware of all Servants in the City, and told me about the blonde haired, blue eyed, Servant belonging to Atrum Galliasta, of course."

I sighed, mentally evacuating from this conversation as my gaze turns towards the outlines. "Miss Ortensia, would you happen to know what exactly happened here?"

Her smile noticeably dims at my words, and her gaze follows mine. "Very little, I'm afraid. The mundane authorities discovered something amiss yesterday morning before Father or I could redirect their approach. They had been directed here by survivors of the attack, though thankfully the manners in which the monks had died were nothing out of the ordinary. The Fuyuki police is treating it in the same vein as that of a serial killer, and have suppressed their findings to the public as much as possible in the interest of searching for the perpetrators."

"Right." I muttered, looking about the area. "Though judging by the Church's involvement here, this isn't some simple serial killing is it?"

Ortensia shrugs, footsteps echoing across the temple. "The details are scarce, Caster. The obstruction into the tunnels below the temple has been theorized by the local police as likely being connected to the slaughter of the monks. They have sent teams deep into the tunnels below in search of anything unusual, an effort stymied by other obstructions and damage all along the tunnel system. Something significant had occurred beneath the mountain, thankfully contributing to the police's ability to come to a worthwhile conclusion that they can accept. Considering the pace of the war and the typical pace of an investigation of this scale, it is likely they would still be searching for their leads by the ritual's completion."

I humm at that, deep in thought as to the nun's words. "So that's what the police say, what do you think?"

The nun gives a small smile at that, her wandering steps having brought her between me and the entrance I'd passed through. "I'm very much sorry, Servant Caster. Any further information I would offer would be in violation of the Holy Church's neutrality in the war."

"So you're saying a Servant or Master did this?" I ask, my tone dry as the Sahara. Ortensia gives me a shocked look.

"Servant Caster, I have no idea what you're talking about." she says, her tone that of innocent outrage. "The Holy Church is bound first as a neutral party between all competitors and then to the preservation of the secrecy of Heaven's Feel. I could not possibly have implied the presence of a Servant or Master upon the mountain around the same time as the monks had been killed, as such information could be leveraged into a strategic benefit for any other Master or Servant privy to such information."

"But, at the same time, you would be powerless to stop anyone from coming to those very same conclusions based upon the supporting data, would you?"

Ortensia gives me a beatific smile, her steps having brought her all the way back to where she started. "What conclusions would you be talking about, Servant Caster?"

I don't groan aloud, I wouldn't give her the satisfaction. Despite that, she giggled at me, and I grit my teeth against her faux obtuseness and carry on. "Miss Ortensia rest assured, I'm only here in search of allies of mine that had gone missing. Once I've determined that to my satisfaction, I'll be out of your hair as soon as possible."

She blinked at that, turning her head to the side in thought. "The vast majority of the monks that used to call this place home are, sadly, deceased. Any of those that still remain are currently in protective police custody, I do believe Souichirou Kuzuki would be among them, if you would like to speak with the survivors at some point."

I commit the name to memory, just in case, but shake my head. "Not the people I'm looking for, unfortunately. Though if that were the case, I will have to apologize for taking up so much of your time. I'm sure this nightmare will be difficult to deal with, and I'll get out of your hair before I inconvenience you further."

The fact of the matter was that I simply lacked sufficient information on how to proceed. It was clear to me that the nun knew more than she was letting on, and as a representative of the arbiter she could be a potential source of information on the war. Despite that, I was unwilling to deal with the obvious danger in appealing to a neutral member of the war. At the best case scenario, the Church would assist me but impose a significant cost for their assistance, at the worst case scenario they would punish me for even asking.

That I was also put off by her delusional words to god and his predilection for mercy need not be stated.

Ortensia smiled at me. "Oh that's a relief, I thought you were going to ask me about Bazett McRemitz."

The silence passed on for a few moments, and I like to think that my face or tone betrayed none of the internal panic I was feeling. "I….I imagine that asking such direct questions would be in direct violation of the Church's neutrality."

She nodded. "Yes, that's very much true. That's why I'm glad you didn't ask, as that would have caused problems for both of us."

I frowned, the rampant amusement in her eyes leaving an unpleasant feeling in my gut. Was she….

"I'll be sure to not ask you about the status and location of my allies then." I venture forth hesitantly. The girl's eyes somehow grew even more amused at that.

"That is indeed fortunate, Servant Caster. I'm glad you didn't ask, otherwise I would have had to deny you the information that Miss McRemitz is currently occupying one of our rooms at the Church due to the significant injuries she had sustained. I would also have had to deny you the information that I would shortly be leaving this temple and would be returning to the church as soon as possible."

I blinked, raising up a hand to forestall any other words she might say as my mind raced. The nun didn't seem to mind, her hands coiling around her shroud, playing with it, as she observed me. I had to admit to feeling some degree of respect, even with the protection granted to her by her neutrality, she certainly didn't seem to be afraid of a Servant. I wasn't entirely sure if that was bravery or stupidity.

"Would it be possible for me to visit the Church?"

"Why of course." she smiled. "All are welcome to our parish for consultation in regards to the war. The Holy Church is committed to the cause of neutrality between all competitors and to the preservation of the secrecy of Heaven's Feel."

I allowed myself to consider that for a few moments, before raising up my hand once more. I turned around, not caring what Ortensia's reaction would be.

"Ghost One?"

"Standing by."

"Here's what I want you to do." I begin, recalling the map for Fuyuki in my head. "I want you to spread out into the Shinto region, around the area of the Kotomine Parish. You are to strictly observe the situation but are not to, in any circumstances, interfere in anything you see or commit to any action on the church. Completely hands off, understand? If anything out of the ordinary occurs, I want you to tell me about it, understand?"

"Acknowledged."

"I also want you to get Laverne on the line." I add. "I want her and her men to go to Miyama Town, I want the entire area under observation on a permanent basis. Have them set up listening posts, video cameras, whatever you all have. Make sure that the other two are on standby."

If McRemitz was injured, then she was injured because of some offensive action by another Master or Servant. Injuring her in the first place was no easy feat, from the information privy to me the girl was some kind of combat specialist to the Magus Association. As such, if someone had intended to hurt her, it would have to be someone powerful like the Three Families.

I didn't know where the Matous and Tohsakas lived, I had an inkling of where the Einzberns where, but I had an idea of somewhere important to the Three Families right? That protected leyline from a few days ago, the one I couldn't find. Odds were good that the installation protecting that place belonged to one of the Three Families, and as the only lead to the other two families that I had, I had to make sure that entire area was drowned in our surveillance. If this was some measure of offensive action by our enemies, then we needed information before we could strike back in some way. I wasn't entirely sure if Laverne would even be able to find anything, but I'd rather have them out doing something rather than nothing.

"Acknowledged."

I closed my eyes, trying to control my breathing. If McRemitz was injured, then that means someone had already struck. As far as I was aware, the war hadn't started in earnest yet because not all competitors were active. If someone was already making moves before the war had even started, then I needed to move now.

I turned around to find the nun looking at me curiously. My lips curved into a smile, one that seemed to give her pause.

"Miss Ortensia, would you kindly do me the honor of escorting me to the Church? If possible, I'd like to speak to Father Kotomine."