Abnormality In Type-Moon: Madness Of Animeverse

City Hall.

As Roy entered the main hall with Kasumigaoka Utaha, his eyes immediately caught a familiar figure seated on a long bench in the corner.

The woman's short, wine-red hair and striking magenta suit were unmistakable. Sitting there like a steadfast pine tree, her spine was ramrod straight, exuding a commanding aura. Her sharp gaze swept the bustling hall like a hunting hawk, startling passersby who inadvertently met her eyes. The pressure she emitted was palpable, making even the most composed individuals falter under her intense scrutiny.

"Bazett? What's she doing here?"

Roy's mind was a whirl of questions as he watched her rise from the bench the moment their eyes met. She strode toward them with an energetic gait that spoke of power, though her demeanor seemed void of hostility. This wasn't a confrontation—at least, not yet.

"Roy-san," Bazett greeted, her tone as brisk as her walk. "I heard about last night. You managed to escape from that corrupted Arthur. Congratulations are in order."

"That's... not really something worth celebrating," Roy replied, a wry smile tugging at his lips. Her blunt attempt at small talk left him momentarily at a loss.

"And you're here because…?"

Kasumigaoka wisely took a step back, giving the two space to converse.

"Well, I have a request to make."

Bazett's demeanor softened slightly, and she sighed in relief, skipping past the awkward formalities.

"I came to see Mayor Tohsaka, but she's nowhere to be found. Don't tell me she's been attacked again?"

"Could you at least wish her well once in a while?" Roy's lips twitched as he held back a laugh.

He quickly explained, "Her situation's a bit precarious right now. She's decided against venturing out, and her work at City Hall is being handled remotely through familiars."

Bazett nodded, finally understanding. "No wonder I haven't seen her."

The truth was simple: Rin Tohsaka couldn't afford to take risks. As the anchor of the city's spiritual barrier, her life was intertwined with the survival of over two hundred thousand residents. Any attempt on her life would be catastrophic. For the time being, she had holed up in Roy's residence, delegating her administrative duties to her familiars. Anything that couldn't be handled this way would simply have to wait.

"Did you need something from her?" Roy asked, curious.

"I do..." Bazett hesitated for a moment, her usual confidence wavering as she scratched her cheek awkwardly. "It's about what you said last night. Were you serious?"

"What I said last night?" Roy frowned.

"You know... about switching sides," Bazett muttered, lowering her voice.

"Ah, that!" The realization dawned on Roy, and he couldn't help but grin.

"So, you're considering it?"

Bazett, a top-tier enforcer of the Mage's Association, was a powerhouse. Few modern mages could match her skill in direct combat, let alone her ability to stand toe-to-toe with heroic spirits. Having someone of her caliber defect would undoubtedly be a game-changer.

"Honestly, yes."

Bazett nodded solemnly, her expression a mix of resignation and determination.

"After last night, things at the Association... didn't go well for me."

Her words carried weight.

Bazett's value to the Mage's Association came from two things: her family's Conceptual Weapon, Fragarach, and her role as a Master in the Holy Grail War. Fragarach was an artifact of ancient mysticism, highly revered and coveted by the Association. However, last night's battle had resulted in the death of her Servant, Caster, and the partial loss of her family's magical crest—stolen by Roy himself.

For mages, a family's magical crest was everything. It was the cumulative knowledge and legacy of generations, engraved into a mage's body to be passed down. Losing even a portion of it was akin to losing the soul of the family line.

Bazett had returned to the Association not as a hero but as a liability. The elders, who once feigned respect for her, no longer hid their disdain. Their punishment was harsh and humiliating, driving Bazett to the breaking point.

She had made her decision: enough was enough.

"I can't stand them anymore," Bazett admitted, her voice firm. "If I'm going to be treated like a disposable tool, I'd rather take my talents elsewhere."

Roy regarded her thoughtfully, his gaze sharp yet unreadable. "You don't hold a grudge against me?"

Bazett met his eyes, her own unwavering. "I'd be lying if I said I didn't care. The crest is important—losing part of it is a deep wound. But..."

She exhaled slowly, her expression calm.

"It was a fair fight. I gave it my all and lost. You even spared my life when you didn't have to. For that, I'm grateful. Holding a grudge over my own shortcomings would be childish."

Roy's expression softened. "You've got a strong heart, Bazett."

"Of course," she added, a small, hopeful smile appearing. "If you're feeling generous, I wouldn't mind getting the crest back..."

Roy chuckled. "I'll discuss it with Tohsaka."

"Fair enough." Bazett's smile widened slightly, the tension in her shoulders easing.

Then, as if remembering something, her demeanor shifted again.

"By the way, as a gesture of goodwill, I have some intel for you."

"Oh?"

"The Master of Lancer—Jiyuuemon—is your enemy, right? I saw him at the Association's branch office last night."

Roy's eyes narrowed, a glint of intrigue flashing across them. "That's interesting. Very interesting."

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