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The Resurrector
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Mahou Shoujo Lyrical Nanoha GuardianS
Chapter Ten—The Shards of Truth (Part One)
Spoiler for Scene III:
[Escutcheon, Cranagan City] [February 15th, MC 081] [1338 hours]
“Is this it?” a young man with clear blue eyes and short black hair asked from the back seat.
The green-haired man in the front passenger’s seat nodded. “Welcome to the Escutcheon,” he said cheerfully, flourishing his hands in flagrant manner. “One of Mid-childa’s most powerful bastions of defense, brainchild of Admiral—I mean, Commander—Chrono Harlaown. Inside will you find the most stalwart and vigilant of warriors, ready to do battle with evil …”
The man blinked at him, utterly confounded.
“… or something like that,” he continued, smiling slyly.
“Verossa, I can’t believe you’re pulling this off. He hasn’t been here before, so be nice,” the driver chided.
“Oh, but it intrigues me so to see his blank look. It’s not like I’ve many chances to do this often, and he’s quite a sight,” the inspector replied, still smiling.
“Hmm, I never thought you quite enjoy inflicting such fleeting pain on others,” the driver said, arching a curious eyebrow.
“Oh my, I can’t believe a Cleric-Knight just accused me of something that I’d never condone,” Verossa countered, flashing the auburn-haired driver a smirk. “And he isn’t just any ordinary Cleric-Knight either. I was merely having fun, Grand Meister,” he said in his most regretful tone, even mimicking successfully an innocent expression.
The driver was about to retort, but the man seated behind brought them up short. “It’s all right, Grand Meister,” he said in a calm voice. “I don’t mind it at all.” Then, he smiled. “In fact, I was just playing along with Acous-san’s ploy. I know what the Escutcheon is for. Hayate told me some time ago.”
“Lacetti, your composure and tact is commendable, as always,” he murmured, smiling knowingly.
The man called Lacetti chuckled. “Thanks.” Turning to Verossa, he said, “I hope you don’t mind, Acous-san. I was just following the lead you opened.”
“I can’t believe it,” Verossa muttered silently without looking at him.
“What?” the young black-haired man asked.
“I can’t believe Grandis-kun bested me at this, with the help from my assumed sister, too,” he fumed darkly. “Oh, the heavens truly bless the couple that I’m no longer significant between them,” he sighed extravagantly, looking utterly dejected.
“Verossa, you’re overdoing it. You’re sounding like a broken poet from some ancient, forgotten times,” the driver chided politely.
“Ah, but one must truly enjoy what one enjoys doing best,” Verossa replied. He winked at the driver, who rolled his rich brown eyes exasperatedly. The inspector seemed to have regained his normal self. “In dark times, a laughter or two brighten things up.”
“Of course, but you’re still overdoing it,” the driver replied. “It isn’t as bad as it seems.”
“Indeed,” Grandis Lacetti agreed. “At least, everyone’s safe.”
“Oh well,” Verossa shrugged. “And here I was thinking that the two of you are worried about your significant other. Guess I got myself too worked up on the wrong thing.” Nodding to himself, he said sagely, “I see the power of love does indeed conquer all.”
The three of them burst out laughing as the sleek, gunmetal-black vehicle—a Lamborghini Reventon—continued silently along the straight path toward the inner gates of the Escutcheon, dust trailing in its wake. The polished ebony of the car gleamed as the radiant sunlight reflected off its surface. Upon its roof was an intricate insignia of a two-headed eagle with widespread wings intersecting a Belkan cross.
It was the official coat-of-arms for the Saint Church.
They crested a low hill and finally neared the gates, which were closed and secured by armed personnel. As they slowed down, Verossa pulled down his side of the window so that he could talk with the sentries. Two guards stood in front of the gates, bearing standard mage equipment. One of them, gruff-looking and well-built, put up his hand forward, signaling for them to stop. Then, another guard, sporting black glasses, came out from the sentry-post that divided the gates in two, walking purposely toward them.
He stopped at the passenger side. “Your identities?” he said in a cool, no-nonsense voice.
“Inspector Verossa Acous from the Department of Intelligence of the Time-Space Administration Bureau. Commander Harlaown should’ve notified you of my coming as well as of my friends’ here,” Verossa said. “This is Grand Meister Kha from the Saint Church of the Belkan Self-Administrated Region,” he continued, indicating the driver. “Behind us is Grandis Lacetti, who is currently employed by the Church as well.”
“He did,” the guard replied, nodding briefly. “Just a moment while I check things up …” Moving some ways from the car, he raised his device—a curious-looking staff shaped like a fork at the tip—and began his spell. A holo-screen popped into being, which he promptly tapped with the other hand, the deft fingers dancing on the keyboard.
A white spell sigil glowed at the tip of the staff. At the same time, a similar sigil, but larger in size, formed on the ground beneath the Reventon. Thin rays of light rose from the sigil and began encircling the vehicle, gaining speed as they climbed higher. The guard’s fingers were quickly punching away at the keyboard, apparently ascertaining the visitors’ identities. After several seconds, he seemed satisfied; with a wave of his staff, the screen and the sigil vanished.
The guard returned to Verossa with a completely different attitude. He gave him a salute. “Sorry for the delay, sir. It’s a necessary protocol,” he said respectfully.
Verossa returned the salute and smiled. “It’s all right, we understand. Are we clear to go?”
“Of course,” he said, nodding. He gave the guard inside the post-station a quick hand-signal, who nodded. The ones blocking their vehicle moved out of their way as the gates—or more accurately, magic-empowered barriers—slid open. Returning his attention to them, he asked, “Is there anything else, sir?”
“No. Thanks for your assistance,” Verossa replied. “Keep up the good work.”
“Glad to be of service, sir!” the guard beamed.
He gave them a final salute as the car started moving again, trudging along the paved road into the premise. The guards on either side of the gates also saluted as the black Reventon passed them. When they were off the gates’ perimeter, the gates sealed themselves soundlessly.
“Is it just me, or does security seem a little tighter than usual?” Kha asked silently.
“Probably,” Verossa answered noncommittally. “Then again, the gate-wardens never do change much, do they?”
“I guess,” Kha returned, shrugging.
“The base does seem to be in a bad shape, though,” Grandis said, pointing to the right. True enough, the west-wing of the base lay in ruins, while a number of maintenance mages flew around pulling out debris and sorting the salvageable from the unsalvageable. Three disposal trucks were nearby, one of which was already nearly filled to the brim with unusable remains.
“Better than the city, I suppose,” Verossa observed dryly. “Let’s see if the interior is livelier than the outside.”
“Verossa,” Kha said suddenly.
“Hmm?” came the singular reply.
“Has anyone ever told you that you have the most peculiar humor at the strangest of times?” the Grand Meister said primly.
“Why, to be honest, no,” Verossa returned brightly. “You’re the first to actually compliment me on one of my better traits. Thank you very much, Grand Meister, you’re such a sweet person,” he said, grinning impishly.
Kha sighed dejectedly at the incorrigible inspector, and Grandis could not help but smile at the comical interaction between them.
* * * * *
“Mm!” Reinforce Zwei chirped happily.
“You really like it, don’t you, Rein-chan?” Hayate said, chuckling lightly.
“Yes!” the Unison Device replied enthusiastically, nodding in emphasis. “It’s delicious!” she said, taking another bite of the chocolate-coated stick.
Hayate sighed. “Oh well, can’t blame you for liking these a great deal. It’s been quite some time since we’ve gone out for a treat.”
“No thanks to our works,” the blond officer said, smiling understandingly. “But, do consider this a small reward for your hard work. The tab’s on onii-chan.” Fate winked mischievously.
Nanoha laughed. “More like direct blackmailing, you mean.”
“That’s cruel, Nanoha,” Fate retorted. “The more appropriate term is ‘gentle persuasion’. It’s not easy getting onii-chan to give a personal treat, you know.”
“That’s Fate-san for you!” Tesla agreed, giving her captain a thumbs-up. Arf nodded her assent, smiling widely.
“While I enjoy the meal, I feel bad taking advantage of the Commander’s good intention,” Signum said a little apprehensively.
“Likewise, Signum-san,” Xeno concurred. “Paying for some is all right, but this is just like …”
“Splurging?” Gabriel said helpfully.
“Yeah,” Xeno answered, nodding. “Not only ours, but for the other crew members, too. It must be very, very expensive.”
“It’s within his capacity, I believe, since most of the troops have been relocated temporarily to the Ground Forces’ barracks,” Gabriel remarked. “If I’m not mistaken, the total number of members, including those who have duties here today and the current maintenance staff, should be around two hundred, take or leave some.”
“Probably, but still …” Xeno did not continue.
“How much does one o’ these normal lunch boxes cost?” Agito asked, finishing the last of her ice-cream. Sighing contentedly, she dropped onto the table, patting her filled stomach. Her face was literally dappled with cream here and there, as if she had just taken a dip in a cake. Signum sighed and shoved the brash Unison Device a paper serviette, glaring sternly at the mess on Agito’s face. Looking rather ashamed and small, the device obediently wiped her face clean, conscientiously clearing up the area on the table where she had spilled food over as well.
The rest of them chuckled at their exchange. “Well, don’t worry too much, all of you. The bill’s only a few thousands, which is not really that much, considering the amount we bought,” Nanoha revealed. “Besides, it’s not like we’re ordering a five-star cuisine.”
“But, Mama …” Vivio murmured in a small voice.
“Yes, dear?” Nanoha asked, smiling gently at her daughter.
“But, Mama … the foods we had might not be five-star, but they were definitely the most expensive ones on the menu …” Vivio said quietly.
Nanoha choked, feeling her face flushing pink. “W-Well … uhm, well, t-that is true …” Nanoha spluttered, trying to regain her composure. “… b-but … uhm … w-we are planning to return the money to Chrono, so it’s not a problem! R-Right, Hayate-chan, Fate-chan?” she finished, stroking her head and laughing nervously.
“Dang, the cat’s out of the bag!” Hayate said, looking sheepish. Fate suddenly decided that there was an interesting mark on the floor and trying to appear oblivious to what had just happened.
“Somehow, I think there isn’t a more appropriate time than this to say, ‘busted’,” Yuuno commented, grinning slyly. Everyone burst out laughing, while the Aces turned redder by the seconds, unable to stop the tide of teases and playful accusations.
Earlier, the Aces and Vivio had returned from their small excursion into the city after breakfast, during which they went around looking to see how the city was coping along. They deliberately skirted areas that suffered major damage and places near the ruined megacomplex, fearing that they might trigger another episode of trauma in Vivio. Then, they relaxed for a moment in Cranagan Park, during which Nanoha spent some quality time together with Vivio while Fate and Hayate took the opportunity to discuss on the matters to be fielded later in the meeting.
As much as Nanoha wanted to part of the discussion, Fate and Hayate steadfastly turned her down, saying that she should be Vivio since the opportunity was not available all the time and that they could always talk later. Nanoha finally gave up and accepted their views; she played with her daughter and they both had a good time, laughing, talking, and generally just be in each other’s company.
Come noon, they decided to have lunch, at point which Fate revealed what happened in the morning during her short visit to Chrono’s office. Though they were not ostensibly serious about her brother’s ‘forced offer’ (as Nanoha put it), Fate thought that it was a good idea to raise everyone’s morale. It was also fortunate that the number of on-duty staff was not overwhelming, thus Fate decided to proceed with the plan, although all three of them really did plan to share the bill with Chrono later (Hayate was the one who suggested it, saying, “It’s our responsibility as captains, too. After all, it’s not that much with the four of us sharing the tab.”). They ate their fill which, as Vivio blurted out later, were some of the most expensive ones on the menu, bought enough for the staff, and returned to the base after getting the restaurant owner to handle the delivery. For the frontline members, they brought the foods back themselves.
While looking rather embarrassed at the moment, the Aces shared a knowing smile with one another: at the very least, their plan had worked as intended. This laughter was proof.
A door on the opposite wall opened, preemptively ending their jubilation, and admitted Kratos, who sported dark rings under his eyes and looking rather tired. Other than that, however, he appeared neat and presentable. He waved at them as he approached the table where the rest were seated around.
“What’s going on?” he asked. “You lot look very happy. I could hear the laughter from next door.”
“N-Nothing!” Hayate quickly cut through everyone else before they could reply. “Kratos, we bought you lunch. Here you go.” She handed him a neatly-wrapped lunchbox.
Though curious, Kratos did not press. “Thanks for the offer, Hayate-san. I’ve had my lunch,” he politely declined, smiling his appreciation.
“You had?” Xeno asked, wheeling around to face him. “The mess hall is currently out of order, so where did you get yours? I don’t see you around this morning, either.”
“Oh,” Kratos said. “I slept quite late yesterday, what with so many things to do in the wards, so I woke up past breakfast. There’s a small kitchen in the infirmary to prepare quick meals, so I ate there with Shamal-san. She even kindly cooked my share,” he explained, looking sheepish.
A deafening silence filled the room. Everyone present (except Xeno and Gabriel), though with widely different forms, had but a single expression: they were utterly thunderstruck.
“What? What’s wrong? Is something the matter?” Kratos asked anxiously.
“I can’t say I know …” Gabriel murmured, perplexed at the sudden change in their behaviors. “Was it something you said …?”
“K-Kratos …” Nanoha said haltingly.
Fate continued for her. “D-Did you just say that …”
“… you ate S-Shamal’s …?” Hayate finished, her voice strangely constricted.
“Yes,” Kratos answered, nodding. “I didn’t know that Shamal-san can cook, and she cooks well, too.”
“W-Well?” Tesla managed to cough, looking pale. Signum seemed unable to utter any words, the shock seemingly so great it numbed her at the moment.
“Is something wrong?” Xeno asked, his curiosity piqued. “You all look like you’ve swallowed some dead mice in your lunch.”
“It’s really difficult to explain …” Yuuno said, adjusting his glasses uneasily. “Shamal’s …”
“I don’t really understand what’s going on here. Shamal-san’s cooking is really good,” Kratos cut him off. “Her ingredients are a little exotic—I don’t know half of what she put in there and where she got her hands on them—but the balance is wonderfully stupendous. By large measures, I’ve never seen anyone prepare something with the most accurate proportion of carbohydrates and proteins, with just the right amount of oil to make it smooth and not too greasy. Not only that, the ingredients had been carefully chosen so as to encompass the entire spectrum of vitamins and trace minerals needed to maintain good health,” he elaborated at length.
“I-Indeed …” Nanoha said weakly, almost stupefied.
“B-Balanced … taste …” Fate continued, her eyes transfixed like a zombie. Hayate steadied herself using the table, her hand trembling and cold.
* * * * *
Meanwhile, someone was humming a happy tune in the infirmary as she washed the dishes.
“Doctor Shamal?” a male nurse asked. “You seem very cheerful today. Did something good happened?”
“Oh, yes, definitely~” Shamal almost sang. “Someone praised the food I prepared. Isn’t it wonderful? And it was his first time eating them, too~”
“W-What?” the nurse gasped, aghast at what he just learned. “Poor man, bless his soul …”
“I beg your pardon, did you say something?” Shamal enquired.
“O-Oh, i-it’s nothing!” he said quickly. “W-Well, I have more work to do. See you later, doctor!” Without waiting for Shamal’s reply, the nurse bolted through a door.
“What was he rushing away for?” Shamal wondered. “Ah, well, perhaps he’s spreading the good news. I must remember to prepare some good foods for him~”
* * * * *
“Shamal-san is really caring and observant, isn’t she? It’s a blessing that she becomes a doctor, with those rare traits of hers …” Kratos continued, a reflective expression on his face.
“I-I feel like … I’m gonna be … s-sick …” Arf said, feeling faint.
“T-Too much … wrong a-accolades …” Agito muttered weakly.
“What is wrong, really? Is this something that I should know?” Kratos asked, still could not quite grasping what was happening to the rest of them.
“Count us in, please,” Gabriel said, raising his hand. “I’m making neither heads nor tails of this sudden change with you all, but from what Kratos said, Shamal-san’s foods seem enticing, even if I’m not an avid watcher of my own diet.” Xeno nodded.
“The two of you, trust me, you don’t want to experience it …” Signum spoke with a deathly quiet voice. Gabriel and Xeno looked at one another, scratching their heads, befuddled by her words.
“Kratos, j-just one question …” Hayate said slowly.
“Yes?” Kratos was surprised at the seriousness in Hayate’s look.
“Are y-you … feeling a little … funny?” she asked.
“Funny?” Kratos stopped for a moment, spreading his mental senses to his entire body. “Now that you mention it, Hayate-san …”
There is no mistaking it! Hayate thought. “I think you’re going to be sic—”
“Oh, this feels great!” Kratos cried. “Shamal-san’s recipe is working wonders, cleansing my body of harmful substances and pathogens and giving my system a mighty boost!”
The room fell into a silence so deep as if death had just swept all life away.
The door suddenly opened again. Aurion walked in, stretching and stifling a yawn. “’ood morning,” he said tiredly. Despite his exhaustion, he immediately took notice of the tense atmosphere. “… What’s with you all?” he asked warily.
“It’s already 1352 hours, Professor Dauer,” Gabriel replied matter-of-factly. Clearly, he had already forgotten his threat to sue the Aurion last night. “Anyway, you tell us, Professor. We’re just as puzzled as you are.” Kratos and Xeno nodded their agreement.
“Well, whatever,” Aurion said, rubbing his stomach consciously. “We’ll talk later. Right now, I can probably eat food for two persons. I see some on the table. Any for me?” he asked hopefully.
“Yep,” Xeno said. “Here you go.” He handed Aurion one of the still-wrapped lunch boxes.
“Since you’re that hungry, you can have mine, Aurion-san,” Kratos offered.
“Why, that’s very nice of you. Thank you, Whitewing,” Aurion said, grinning happily. “Though, how come you’re not eating yours? Not hungry?”
“You can thank Doctor Shamal for that,” Gabriel said helpfully.
“Hmm? Why is that?” Aurion asked, puzzled.
“Well, I just had a delicious meal with her,” Kratos answered. “And she prepared it herself, too.”
Aurion nodded. “I see, delici—” He froze suddenly, eyes bulging in disbelief.
“Aurion-san? Aurion-san! Hey, not you too?” Kratos cried in alarm.
“O-Oh, right … I-I see …” the professor mumbled, then laughed hollowly. “It’s … g-good … I assume?”
Kratos nodded enthusiastically. “Would you want me to give you a short description of what it tasted like?”
The ends of Aurion’s eyes twitched nervously. “W-Would you mind … after I eat …? Wait … on afterthought … make it after dinner, please …”
“Oh, it won’t be too bothersome, Aurion-san. You can listen while eating,” Kratos said. “You see, the food wa—”
Tesla could not stand it any longer. As one of the Wolkenritter, she had been exposed to what was considered ‘the world’s deadliest poisons’ too many a time that hearing something like this in a different light was quite distressful. “No!” she cried in distress. “No more! I don’t want to hear it!” Unexpected to everyone, she rushed forward and tackled Kratos, placing a hand firmly on his mouth to keep him from narrating his experience again. Her momentum threw them both to a long couch near the table.
And at the same time, the door opened for the third time. “Afternoon, everyone. Have you all had lun—” Her eyes then sighted Tesla atop of Kratos in a most awkward position. Raising a curious eyebrow, she asked to the room in general, “… Did something happen?”
“… Don’t ask …” Nanoha and Hayate said at the same time, looking utterly ill.
Spoiler for Scene IV:
[War Room, Escutcheon] [February 15th, MC 081] [1358 hours]
“I see …” Kha muttered. “So, that’s what happened …”
“Considering the circumstances, Escutcheon is faring much better than the city,” Chrono said. “Still, it does unsettle us, and with all the things needing repairs, things will be looking rather grim for the next few weeks.”
“I take it you already have plans?” Verossa asked his friend.
Chrono sighed. “I can’t say for sure that I have one. At the moment, the details and information we have are too sketchy and vague for us to formulate any workable plans. On top of that, while we have Carim’s prophecy, it’s difficult to trace it correctly. Yuuno provided us with a rough idea, but again, the lead trails off there. The enemy is on an entirely different level than our own. The fact that even Lieutenant-General von Khrull is paying serious attention to this case now shows just how complex and critical it is.”
“He’s cooperating?” Kha asked, surprised.
“Sort of,” Chrono said. “Despite his aloofness and stringency, he is very much like us: he wants to protect Mid-childa and its people just as much as we do. However, his position places some restraints on him, which is why he could not stand out to offer his help directly.”
“Somewhat understandable,” Grandis said. “The three military departments have always been separated by an extremely thin line between cooperation and infringement, particularly the Ground Forces, whose viewpoint on the matter is more myopic than the other two …” He suddenly caught himself. “I’m sorry, Commander Harlaown, I didn’t mean to—”
“It’s all right,” Chrono returned, smiling slightly. “It’s ironic, but you were only speaking the truth.”
The four of them rounded a corridor that led to a large hall. On the far side was a heavy double-door that had an electronic console for its lock. Chrono entered the password, swiped his identity card, and pressed his hand on the dial. There was a few seconds of noiseless processing, then the mechanisms that held the door shut turned and pulled it apart smoothly, revealing the interior of the war room. The frontline members (except for Teana who was recuperating) were already seated around the semi-oval table.
“Sorry for being a little late,” Chrono said, taking his seat at the head. “And well, I guess I don’t need to introduce these gentlemen, do I?”
“Ah, so are these the persons we’re expecting?” Fate asked. “Inspector Acous was on my thought this morning, but the other two …” She smiled at Grandis and Kha, lingering a little longer on the latter. Kha returned the smile, a deep, unspoken message passing between the two who had been in a steady relationship for some time.
“What an honor to be remembered by a beautiful lady such as you, Fate,” Verossa teased.
“It just means that you’re nothing out of the ordinary, Rossa,” Hayate chipped in, chuckling.
“You know, one of you are just as mean as the other,” Verossa muttered darkly.
“Of course,” Grandis replied. “Our mind is one, just as our heart is.” He gave Hayate a quick, warm smile as he sat on the opposite side of the table. Hayate beamed, looking cheerful at the sight of him.
“… I give up,” Verossa said, sighing as he took a seat beside Kratos.
“Is this worse than losing in chess to Milady, inspector?” Kratos asked, giving him a friendly pat on the back.
“Somehow, I do wonder if my horoscope today reads ‘worst luck’. Everything and everyone seems to be going against me, even my protégé …” The inspector shook his head in theatrical dismay.
The room roared into laughter.
“All right, everyone, back to business,” Chrono said, taking reign of the meeting for real. He turned to the frontline members. “First, the battle report. What happened there?”
Nanoha began the recap on their battle with the Templars, while the rest of them added their side of the event to complement her summary. They mentioned the barrier and its overlaying illusion, the complete disruption on their communications following the surprise attack on the base, Leona’s plan of counterattack, and the three-way confrontations with Kratos acting as their temporary support. Signum told them exclusively of the battle she and Tesla had with Grandia; Fate on the offensive against the two as-of-yet unnamed Templars; and finally Gabriel on Vestrell, expanded slightly by Leona. Then, Kratos relayed their Pyrrhic victory in capturing the Templars, only to have them escape moments later.
“I wonder if it was sheer luck or part of their plan,” Kratos concluded. “Six-winged Angel is one of my most powerful bind-type capture spells, at least AA+ in strength. To break it would require a significant amount of energy. Not only that, they were directly open to our attacks when they attempted to escape. If anything went wrong, they’d have been killed on the spot.”
“No doubt about it,” Chrono agreed, looking thoughtful. “However, if they really decided to pull that feat, it’d mean that they were willing to put their life on the line. Is their need to resurrect their most important person that strong it drives them beyond life and death?”
“The art of resurrection is a controversy that is extremely difficult to resolve,” Kha said. “As a Cleric-Knight, we believe that such an act is possible, but only through the grace of the higher powers. By human means, it’s almost impossible. Or rather, no one has wanted to try it; if anyone did, he or she did not live to tell the account. Even if there is magic that restores life, the amount of energy required to pull a person back from the realm of the dead would be so vast that it’s unfathomable.”
“The Templars did say that if they had the littlest hope, they’d attempt it regardless of the consequence. The Jewels of the Star seem to be their only hope,” Nanoha recounted.
“In a way, I can understand their desperation and pain,” Hayate added. She had a solemn and sad expression on her face. “The Princess must have been a very important person in their life. So important that they’re willing to risk their lives to pursue that singular hope that sustained them in the world of the living. It’s just like back then, when I saw my Knights torn apart … and then, Reinforce Ein …”
“Hayate …” Signum murmured. Everyone was surprised and worried at Hayate’s words.
“… but, I’m not saying that it’s the right thing to do,” the brunette continued, smiling bitterly. “I’ve learnt it the hard way. It’s not easy dealing with the loss. It hurt a lot, a pain indescribable, but I had to be strong so that I can honor her last wishes. Clinging to my past does nothing other than amplifying my own grief; I need to accept it and move on. That’s what Reinforce Ein wished of me, too, and I intend to fulfill it.”
Everyone present smiled, relieved at her resolution. Grandis, in particular, gave her an encouraging nod, of which Hayate appreciated very much.
“However, even with the Jewels in their hands, they can’t possibly cast such a powerful spell, can they?” Fate asked, returning to the subject at hand.
“What do you mean? Aren’t they mages?” Grandis enquired. Quickly, they filled Kha and Grandis on the Templars’ details and their unique system. “I see. So, they aren’t your typical mages, which would mean such high-level spells would be out of their capabilities.”
“Do such spells even exist?” Xeno asked. “I mean, we are talking about resurrecting people, not just your ordinary point-and-shoot.”
“Only in theory,” Kratos answered. “Strictly speaking, the resurrection theory in current research is nothing like the fictitious portrayals of sorcerers or priests guiding souls back to the body of the dead. In medical biology, resurrection can be considered a type of healing magic, where it restores functions to the dead body. However, unlike common healing spells, the energy to jumpstart the non-functioning biomechanisms would be so immense it’s totally impractical.”
“Yes. Not only that, a lot of factors will influence the success, which is already extremely low to begin with,” Kha continued. “The current magitech is limited with its own imperfections and also on the stringent requirements of the target subject. If the subject has been dead for far too long, it’s not possible to perform it even with optimum conditions. No sane person would attempt it for someone beyond this point. The caster risks killing himself for the large transfer of magical powers.”
“But, from their description, it seems that they’re trying to return someone who’s been dead for a long time,” Tesla said. “So, how is it going to be carried out?”
“Would the Templars have access to a different school of magic that allows them to perform such a spell at relatively improved conditions than what Mid-childan healing specialists could do?” Verossa asked Leona, who identified the Templars in the first place.
“I can’t really say with certainty whether they have any technique that would allow them to bring the dead back to life,” Leona admitted. “Going by the basics of their class of magic, it wouldn’t seem that much different from the current magitech. It’s true that their technique is much better in controlling the inherent energy—the Elements—in a person’s body, but with just the four of them to maintain the ritual would be suicidal. The backlash is almost certain to kill them. Even so, I do think that the limitations of clinical resurrection stay the same. It’s just impossible to bring a person long dead—a corpse—back to life. At least, not without any form of abnormalities …”
There was a brief flash of a peculiar expression on her otherwise neutral and stoic demeanor, something akin to unexpressed desire and sadness, but she coolly brushed it away, looking as she appeared before. She tapped her chin thoughtfully with one finger. “Hmm, if they can’t do it themselves, but they’re still going all-out for the Jewels, this would mean that …”
“… they have other allies,” Nanoha concluded for her. The rest of them nodded in agreement.
“We’ve always taken that into consideration,” Chrono said. “In basic military, it’s usually not a good idea to split your force into two lest you send one of them to their death and risking failure with the second. However, one factor working against us is that we don’t have sufficient information on their force and capabilities, and they took advantage of it.” Chrono leaned forward, placing his elbows on the table and locking his hands together before him, his expression dark and pensive. “It’s surprising, nonetheless, that they could plan this diversion without knowledge of one another,” he said quietly. “The mastermind must have been very confident about the success of his stratagem, or perhaps he’d been ready to sacrifice his subordinates just to get his hands on the Lost Logia. Either way, our loss is far greater than we expected.”
“It is?” Fate asked, perplexed. “What do you mean?” Every eye was trained in his direction, asking the same question as Fate did.
The commander leaned back against his chair, sighing wearily. “It’s better if you see it for yourself …”
* * * * *
“You seem to be in a euphoric mood, Milord,” Lazarus spoke in his androgynous voice.
Am I? Peculiar, I thought it is … usual, nothing more, nothing less.
“Well, by human standard, it i—” Lazarus was stifled abruptly by fury so cold, so terrible it caused his knees to shiver and buckle. He fell onto the floor of gleaming black marble, wilting like a blighted flower.
Never associate me with mere humans.
The voice was emotionless, but to Lazarus, it was a pure bolt of mental lightning, scarring and trampling on his will with such ruthlessness he felt as if he would be consumed by madness. Something intangible, but extremely vast and heavy, wrapped him with its embrace, crushing him without mercy.
His lord had merely brushed his mind, and his world had convulsed.
“M-My deep— … est … deepest a-apologies … M-Milord …” Lazarus gasped. His throat felt dry, constricted, and his breathing was difficult, as if his lungs could no longer draw air in properly. He clawed at his throat and coughed several times, trying in vain to stabilize his conditions.
The supernatural pressure that oppressed him vanished, leaving him trembling violently on the floor. His body was so icy that the cool marble felt warm.
Be glad, Lazarus, that you had not finished what you were saying. If you had, this second would be your last. Never make the same mistake again.
There was a palpable silence, broken only by the faint rustling of Lazarus’s robes as he feebly tried to rise and the ever-present but muffled sound that was almost like the beat of the heart. It took several painful attempts, but Lazarus finally managed to stand, though he could feel his knees were still slightly weak.
“M-My endless … gratitude for y-your merciful grace, Milord …” he croaked hoarsely. If there was anything that remained unchanged, it was his unreadable facial expression, hidden by the shadow of his hood. If his master who caused him his terrible experience could unravel the veil surrounding him and peer beyond the darkness, there was no sign of any reaction.
At least, not at this point in time.
Save it, Lazarus. I have no need for words of apology or gratitude so long as you remember never to err again. Remember the pain well.
“B-But of course …” Lazarus spoke softly. His voice had regained its usual cold and neutral tone, his stature straighter and poised like before.
You were, however, correct on one thing.
“Milord?” Lazarus asked.
I am, indeed, exuberant today. It is an intangible emotion with peculiar physical manifestations, and it feels wonderful. There is something stirring within me, an inimitable passion, a matchless excitement unlike anything else. It is a depthless fire, burning, raging, eager for release. It is strange and yet, at the same time, pleasant.
“And what might be this occasion auspicious enough to please Milord thus?”
The destined time approaches, Lazarus. The misery and the thrill, the ecstasy and the despair—everything is drawn inexorably to that single point in time. My blood burns with the excitement, my might craves to be unleashed. They who hinder my advance will fall, these insignificant and powerless creatures known as humans. Even with only four of the nine Stars, it was already enough to rip the fabric of dimensions apart easily. Now, I have seven; only two are left. And when the final Star is brought before me, all of creation will tremble.
Realization dawned on Lazarus. “I see … so she had been successful. But, wasn’t it because you were there, Milord, that she had outperformed the rest?”
More successful than you would have ever imagined, Lazarus. Of course, I had been there, watching over her, guiding her every move, helping when it was required. Yes, the attack—Hollow Fall—was my doing, but it was perhaps not necessary in the first place. Her obedience is absolute, and her performance is beyond excellent. I would have disposed off those loathsome Templars had they not successful in retrieving the Emerald Star. Nevertheless, they are failures. The earth can never dream of reaching the heaven.
“Milord, it is indeed as you say,” Lazarus said, bowing slightly. “The Templars are hopelessly incomparable to the one chosen by your Grace. But, it cannot be denied that they have been serving their duty well.”
Which is their one and only redeeming attribute saving them from complete obliteration in my hands. They are useful, but only for so much longer.
“I understand, Milord,” Lazarus answered. “Perhaps if they could show a more spectacular result …”
I doubt it. Even if they could, the end result would be the same: there is no future in them.
“Could this humble servant of your Grace request, then, that he be granted further use of them when such a situation arises?” Lazarus enquired politely.
There was a brief silence as the Archmagus awaited the answer. For a moment, he thought that he had somehow uttered the wrong words and again infuriated his master. Dreading the same result, he was about to apologize and retract his request when there was an eerie, chilling laughter not in the air, but directly in his mind. There was no pain this time, but he trembled all the same.
… You are a wily and cunning person, Lazarus. On one hand, you pretended to be their champions, delaying their deaths by my hands through your use of encouraging words and promises. On the other, you had merely manipulated them, like marionettes dancing to the master puppeteer’s commands, to suit your means. Now I see the secrets that you have been hiding all this while.
“M-Milord, I-I did not mean …”
There is no need for explanation, Lazarus. Admittedly, I myself am intrigued as to how far and to what ends your act of deception would carry you. I can let them live that much longer just to see this deviously woven play reach its grand finale. Consider them my gift to you.
Lazarus took a moment to digest the words. “Thank you, Milord. I will not disappoint you,” he said clearly, inclining his hooded head in reverence.
Now, leave. I await the next Star with much anticipation. I trust you know what to do.
“Yes, of course. Begging your leave, then.” With a final bow, he turned around and left the audience chamber. The heavy double-doors opened soundlessly as he exited and then closed behind him, leaving him alone in the darkened corridor. Silently, Lazarus began his steps down the path, his movement phantom-like in the dimness of the room.
He passed through a second archway, which also closed behind him. A shimmering sheen enveloped the doors, blocking the way back. But, Lazarus had no plan to return at the moment. His gloved hands trembled, not from fear, but from excitement.
It was the exact same feeling his master had just described.
For reasons of his own, Lazarus was extremely pleased. The pain inflicted upon him earlier was forgotten, and there was nothing but elation in his mind.
I will not disappoint you, Milord. The act will definitely have the most wonderful and unexpected finale.
He trailed along, his figure a shadow among the shadows.
Everything had come together perfectly, just as he—no, she herself—had anticipated. Patience for just a little while longer, and the flowers would bear fruits.
And when it ends, you, Milord, will fall, and the Stars will be mine.
No one can stop the Avenger.
Spoiler for Scene V:
[War Room, Escutcheon] [February 15th, MC 081] [1458 hours]
“I can’t … believe it …” Nanoha muttered weakly, slumping against her chair. Everyone else present was silent, echoing her thought.
They had just finished viewing the information that Chrono had shown them. These confidential details came directly from the Lieutenant-General of the Ground Forces, Leonidas von Khrull, which surprised all of them. In the video recordings, Leonidas told them of additional but unpublicized incidents that took place during the chaos that struck the city, more specifically the burglaries at two other laboratories housing one Jewel of the Star each. In their minds, however, ‘burglary’ was perhaps an understatement …
The laboratories were utterly destroyed, leaving no one alive.
From what was shown in the video records salvageable from the facilities moments before they were wrecked, the destruction was the work of a single person. Whether it was the same person or a different one at the two separate locations was indeterminable. No discernible features could be ascertained of the identity of the intruder, except for the gender.
In the final record found in Lab 49, sixty miles away from Lab 40 where the first incident took place, the researchers had just finished putting up defenses around the Pearl Star after the attack in the main city when their sensor picked up a foreign person entering the vicinity of their airspace. They managed to secure a hazy image of the intruder that was made worse by the heavy sheets of rain and darkness. The silhouette, regardless, was unmistakable—the shapely, slender build, long hair, the obvious and perceptible feminine aspect of the body, and also the smooth, melodious voice that chanted the spell which wiped out the laboratory and the people inside. Everything went white then, before the screen displayed the final images, which were that of the wrecked remains of the two laboratories, recorded by the Lieutenant-General’s investigative staff.
The avatar of destruction was a lone female.
Yet, that was not the sole point of their unease.
“Going by these latest data, it would seem that our enemies are far more powerful than we give them credits,” Yuuno commented, frowning. “Judging by the result, that intruder is almost as strong—if not stronger—than an Ace. And we don’t know how many of our enemies are of a similar level. Despite all our efforts, we seem to be grasping on an ever-changing shadow. We need something more concrete if we are to coordinate any good countermeasure.”
“It does seem that way,” Fate conceded. “Our enemies have more information about us than we have about them, and they exploit all those advantages to their best benefit. At this point, although we know for certain what their targets are, we certainly aren’t able to keep up with the surprises and tactics they are pulling off.”
“That’s unfortunately true. While we are still holding our grounds against the Templars, everything else is literally lost in darkness,” Hayate added, sounding weary. “We have some dubious facts, a lot of conjectures and hypotheses, but nothing that helps us pinpoint our enemies exactly. We can work on the knowledge that they were indeed stealing dangerous Lost Logia, but that alone does not aid in the least to prepare us ahead of them.”
“From another point of view, our forces were spread thin by the number of locations we had to concentrate. Although the professor distributed the Jewels to different labs so as to prevent anyone else interested in his secret project from acquiring all of them at once, he has also made us ill-disposed to cover all these areas simultaneously,” Griffith said. “We are hard-pressed to respond on the spur of the moment to our enemy’s choice, which allowed them to gain the upper hand.”
The room fell silent, everyone deep in their thoughts. Then, Aurion, who had been silent during the meeting, suddenly spoke up. “Has it occurred to any of you that it’s rather peculiar and coincidental for things to be going quite well for our enemy?”
All who were present in the meeting lit up. “What do you mean?” Gabriel asked.
“Let me show what I found out last night when I searched around the area,” Aurion replied. He raised his left arm and said, “Reishiki, access file M02-14-81 and use tactical display for presentation.”
The orb slightly below the professor’s wrist gleamed. <Yes, sir. Accessing file … Done.>
Immediately, the tactical screen sprang to life in the middle of the meeting table, showing various charts, numbers, formulae, and images. A series of figures were particularly eye-catching, the cursive Midchildan letters colored red and bolded. Though obvious, Aurion pointed at it regardless and said in his most mysterious voice: “That is what we’ll be focusing on.”
“The numbers are certainly intriguing, but I can’t say I really see any connection with our current issue,” Gabriel muttered.
“Patience, Sunstrider,” Aurion returned, smiling slightly. “Let me begin from the start. To make it simple, these numbers came from our backyard.”
“Our backyard …?” Xeno repeated, looking puzzled. Then, his eyes cleared as he realized something. “You don’t mean, when we saw you …”
“Bingo, Graymist, I mean exactly that,” Aurion said, nodding. “While it was true that I volunteered to take over the work of the maintenance crew temporarily, I was in fact investigating something that had been bothering me for a while.”
“What was it?” Reinforce Zwei asked from her position on Hayate’s shoulder.
“We know for a fact that the Templars use a class of magic-like abilities known as Astral System that functions primarily through the utilization of natural energies in the environment,” Aurion began. “We have seen them manipulating various forces of nature to do their biddings, therefore an electrical storm shouldn’t be theoretically an impossibility for them, correct?” He turned to Leona for opinion.
“To be honest, I am not entirely sure if such wide-area manipulation is possible,” Leona said, looking thoughtful. “However, if my memory serves me right, the documents profiling their capabilities point to a yes, that it is still within their limits. Of course, the critical assumption is that this Templar is inherently powerful enough to influence weather in earnest, something which is quite difficult even for high-ranked mages with specific elemental affinities. To create a storm out of the blue isn’t exactly anything a mere human can do, even for those attuned to nature. There isn’t any specific mention of any Templar with such potential. Then again, that document is incomplete to begin with.”
“What about amplification?” Grandis queried. “From earlier descriptions, it seems that the Templars’ system is almost similar as mine. I can draw additional powers from the type of surroundings that I’m in. Perhaps the Templars could take advantage of their natural environment to improve or empower their own techniques, or something along that line of thought?”
“Now that you mention it, Grandis-san, it was raining here yesterday, wasn’t it?” Reinforce Zwei said helpfully. “It was still raining when we left for the mission, too.”
“Hmm, I remember Shario-san saying something about that yesterday, but I didn’t pay much attention to it until now,” Leona answered, looking thoughtful. “But, yes, it is possible in this case. In fact, amplifying an existing storm isn’t as strenuous as creating one. By sending Elements into the thunderclouds, you can agitate the Elements present within them, causing a massive chain reaction that unleashes a more powerful storm than what was forecast.”
“So, it was really a Templar who attacked the base?” Signum asked. “Had Grandia and the others lied to us?”
“Unfortunately, I don’t think we can draw a concrete conclusion from there,” Aurion said. “Mages with affinity to electric like Fate here and young Mondial could possibly also replicate a similar effect, if they were to put their minds to it. Even Grandis can do something like that, though smaller in scale …” His expression suddenly became serious and his deep black eyes were intent. “I can, however, say for certain that the storm was a mere diversion.”
It took several moments for his words to sink in, which then prompted a round of surprised gasp. “Wait, Aurion-san, what d’ya mean it was just a diversion? Eyewitnesses claim them bolts of lightning struck down any imaginable objects, even shattered blocks on the megacomplex!” Agito pointed out.
“It is true that those blasts of lightning caused some damage, but they were not the main destructive force at work,” Aurion said.
“You mean … the storm is like a mask or something?” Tesla asked.
“Very perceptive, Tesla,” Aurion complimented with a nod.
“But, how could it be used to hide another attack?” Fate questioned. “If another attack is slotted at the same time with the first one, then it must have been sighted as well. No one seems to have witnessed it; almost everyone, if not all, only saw the lightning strikes. Also, are you suggesting that the attack was also a wide-area spell … only much stronger than the amplified storm?” She seemed almost reluctant to finish her last sentence.
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