Fate/Magus Path

The Clock Tower, located in London, is one of the three major branches of the Mage's Association.

The Clock Tower has taken factional divisions and internal scheming to new heights compared to the other two branches, Atlas Institute and Wandering Sea.

Leaving aside someone like the Magician of the Second Magic, who is an exception, the face of the Clock Tower is naturally upheld by the Twelve Lords and their respective prestigious families.

Due to the varying nature of their magecraft and the different directions they have chosen, each has established their factions, walking different paths of magecraft in the pursuit of reaching the Root.

However, the limited resources are hard to allocate to everyone's satisfaction.

There's simply too much to divide with twelve prominent families and twelve lords vying for these resources. As a result, the relationships between the lords are far from harmonious, with each one secretly wishing for the downfall of the others.

That's why, the moment Eulyphis fell from power, some couldn't wait to pass judgment on him.

If successful, the lordship position, resources, wealth, and precious knowledge held by Eulyphis' faction would become vacant.

These vacated resources would fall under the domain of Sealing Designation, and they wouldn't miss the opportunity to seize a lord's wealth.

Thus, even the Sealing Designation Executors were dispatched immediately.

There was no intention to give Eulyphis any chance to breathe... this trial was just a formality. The real reason behind Eulyphis' downfall, whether he could resolve the situation or not, didn't matter. What mattered was his disappearance.

Among the Twelve Lords at the Clock Tower's headquarters, the lord overseeing the Department of Archaeology, Karmaglyph Meluastea Deluc, looked rather uneasy.

He saw those calm blue eyes of Roy crossing through the hidden darkness, meeting his gaze. The suffocating feeling, as if staring into the abyss, gave him a sense of impending doom.

Under those calm eyes, it felt as though everything about him was being seen through.

As he thought, with jewel rank Mystic Eyes as standard, even without activation, such simple disguise spells were easily seen through.

At the very least, Roy could see his appearance and expressions clearly.

Long brown hair fell over his eyes, and his small frame was dressed in a gray suit. Despite the high-quality material, his personal demeanor completely stripped it of any sense of luxury.

He lacked the presence and confidence typical of a lord, and even the impression of being a magus was weak... he looked more like an ordinary businessman.

But this was only the surface. Roy saw deeper... he saw the essence hidden within.

Ambition and desire.

As expected, any magus who could rise to the position of lord in the Clock Tower couldn't possibly be a peaceful, kind-hearted person.

"Huff... huff..."

Though only a few seconds had passed, to Meluastea, it felt like an eternity. He lowered his head, breathing heavily, with sweat pouring down his forehead.

The sudden pressure and eerie sensation left him unsettled, filling him with deep dread toward Roy.

Though it was just a brief exchange of gazes, he realized the gap between them. His sixth sense was warning him, the figure standing below was not someone he could oppose.

But should he really back down like this?

He still felt a hint of reluctance in his heart.

He was so close to success. He had made thorough preparations. Once Eulyphis was overthrown, he was confident he could acquire most of the Department of Spiritual Evocation's assets and take over more of its resources.

It wasn't even impossible for one of his people to claim the lordship of the Department of Spiritual Evocation.

But why did things turn out like this? Who exactly was this young man who appeared out of nowhere?

"I do not agree with this trial's outcome."

Roy's calm voice broke the silence.

Though soft, the rebuttal rang piercingly through the entire conference hall.

Meluastea's face darkened, but he didn't dare to say anything more. He simply bowed his head and remained silent.

"..."

Since the lord of the Department of Archaeology had noticed that something was amiss and chose to stay silent, the other lords naturally sensed it as well. After all, no magus who had reached such a position was lacking in intelligence, whether young or old... they were all exceptionally shrewd.

As a result, the entire conference hall fell into an uneasy silence, with no one willing to speak or step forward.

The proceedings reached a stalemate.

"Hmm... why the silence? Are you unwilling to continue this farce?"

There was no answer. None of the lords responded to Roy's question. They all chose to remain silent, observing from the sidelines.

At last, the figure sitting at the head of the table spoke first.

"...I recognize you, young man."

"You are the mysterious youth who was personally greeted by the Magician of the Second Magic, Lord Zelretch, in front of all the lords of the Clock Tower a few months ago."

The figure spoke softly, "After that day, I stationed people at the Clock Tower to watch for your return, but you never appeared again. I also sent people to investigate Lord Kayneth, who claimed to be your mentor, but found nothing. After so long, I assumed you had left London and ceased further investigation."

"However, not long ago, I received reports from my subordinates that someone had seen you again at the Clock Tower, and you had interacted with the Department of Spiritual Evocation. Unfortunately, my subordinates disappeared soon after reporting this, and I lost contact with them, leaving no time to verify the information."

"I never expected it to be true. To my surprise, not only have you gained the support of the Mineralogy and Department of Spiritual Evocations, but even the Department of Astromancy as well. So... I have just one question, was it you who orchestrated the magic ritual that disrupted London's ley lines, young magus?"

Hearing this, Roy maintained his smile and nodded slowly.

"Yes, I borrowed the ley lines in the London area for a small experiment. I deeply apologize for any inconvenience my actions may have caused."

"Fortunately, the experiment was successful, and the results are quite satisfactory. My efforts weren't in vain, so everything was worth it."

Roy's face still held a gentle smile, but though his words were apologetic, his tone and eyes were cold, showing no real remorse.

This brazen and arrogant attitude infuriated the lords present.

To meddle with London's ley lines on a whim, simply to satisfy his own curiosity...

What did he take the Clock Tower for?!

"Really? You're satisfied? But, you know, I'm not concerned with the so-called results. Do you understand what kind of price you'll have to pay for the crimes you've committed?"

The judge representing the Barthomeloi family stood up, his gaze sweeping over Roy and the three Lords behind him. His tone was filled with cold indifference and finality.

"Acting recklessly, breaking the principles of secrecy, and shaking the very foundations of London's ley lines... these are heinous crimes. Even if you have ties to the Wizard Marshal, there will be no leniency. For violating the rules, you will face the consequences. And those three behind you will be purged as well."

As his left hand fell, the magical gavel, symbolizing his authority as an enforcer, struck the table with a loud clang, echoing sharply through the hall. At the same time, the magecraft hidden within the room began to stir.

"I now propose, in the name of Barthomeloi of the Department of Policies, to apprehend the mastermind of this incident, along with the accomplices Eulyphis, and those who sheltered them, Kayneth and Marisbury, for a trial. Those in favor, raise your hands."

The proposal further darkened the already heavy atmosphere of the hall. Only a few Lords who opposed Barthomeloi discreetly exchanged glances and chose to abstain from the vote. The majority, after a brief moment of consideration, decided to raise their hands in agreement with Barthomeloi.

"To pass judgment, huh? How fitting for the occasion. But you know..."

Roy glanced at the array of terrifying magical restraints scattered across the ceiling and floor, completely unfazed, still wearing a calm smile.

"There's nothing to fear about guilt, after all. The so-called rules and laws exist only for those who need them to survive."

"The ones who define these rules are none other than you and me, standing above others... just like how magus view ordinary humans, and how humans see monkeys."

"So don't worry..."

Roy flashed a dangerous smile.

"No one will raise their hand."

"What... Arghhh!"

In the next moment, blood rained down from the ceiling.

Suddenly feeling a sharp pain, the Lords who had raised their hands looked down at them in shock. Their hands had already been severed, falling to the ground, effortlessly cut off by a magnificent sword.

Unbeknownst to them, Artoria had appeared behind them and swiftly severed their hands.

"See? The rules have been broken, my lords. Once you take that step, there's no longer any need to fear these false constructs."

"What... What is this?!"

"When did this happen?!"

The hands that had been raised in support were swiftly sliced off by the sudden appearance of Artoria, as easily as cutting a cake. The room erupted in panic.

The Lords realized that not only had Roy gone unnoticed, but so had this blonde girl. And... were there more? Who could guarantee that only these two were present? What if three or four more appeared, or even more than that?

An unnamed fear gripped their hearts. If not for the presence of Barthomeloi, the pillar of their strength, they might have fled already.

"A familiar? Or a ghost? No, the magical power and presence she displayed far surpass what any familiar or spirit could achieve. What in the world is she?" The Barthomeloi enforcer eyed the now-disappeared Artoria, clearly surprised.

"She's neither a familiar nor a ghost. She's my most trusted companion and ally. Please, do not insult her by calling her a familiar, or face the consequences."

Roy gave him a cold look as he spoke.

"A companion? An ally? So, that lifeless figure possesses intelligence and consciousness, huh? A powerful familiar or spirit, undetectable by normal means... is that what you're relying on?"

"Why don't you take a guess?" Roy smiled.

"I'm not interested."

Continuing to speak, Barthomeloi raised his hand and pointed directly at Roy.

"Your methods are strange, and even I can't fully see through that sudden familiar. But if you think you can cause trouble in Barthomeloi's domain with just this, then you're sorely mistaken, young man."

At his command, countless floating orbs resembling eyes began to emerge from the floors, ceiling, and walls of the conference room, encircling Roy and his companions.

A glance around revealed their overwhelming numbers, each orb brimming with deadly magical energy capable of easily killing any magus.

Like the rest of the British Museum, this meeting hall was only a facade. Its true nature was that of a hidden magical workshop.

The defensive magecraft within was the highest standard that the Clock Tower could offer, completely surpassing the level of a mere Lord's workshop.

Here, within this magical workshop, the Department of Policies held absolute dominion. Powered by three magical energy reactors, the workshop maintained full operational capacity, ensuring that the enforcer was confident no one could defeat him.

Not even multiple Lords working together could hope to topple him.

Now, it was time to judge the heretics.

"Impressive. I didn't expect the Department of Policies to have such hidden cards. I must say, I'm momentarily shocked. But..."

Roy's gaze swept over the shocked Lords, his smile turning dangerous.

"It was only for a moment."

"You've hidden this ace well, not informing any of the Lords. Were you planning to use it as a trump card, or perhaps to purge everyone when the time was right?"

"Your intentions really make one wonder."

"..."

"This cheap trick of sowing discord won't work on me. Once this matter is settled, I'll explain everything to them. But until then, call out your familiar. You won't have another chance."

"You're confident you've already won?"

"Do you still think you stand a chance under these circumstances?"

Barthomeloi's tone was firm, carrying an air of unquestionable authority.

As the master of the entire building and the controller of this magical workshop, which he had personally constructed, he fully understood the power of this place. As long as he remained here, even if facing a True Ancestor, he was confident he could suppress or kill them.

This was the confidence of an absolute ruler. Finally, he turned his gaze once again to the three figures behind Roy... Eulyphis, Kayneth, and Marisbury... and sought their confirmation.

"The departments of Mineralogy, Spiritual Evocation, and Astromancy... three ancient, noble factions each led by a Lord. If they are eradicated, it would cause significant damage to the Clock Tower."

"To ensure the stability of the Clock Tower, and out of consideration for our years of collaboration, I'll give you one final chance to reconsider. Will you admit your mistakes? If you make the necessary reparations, I can propose leniency from the Clock Tower and spare you from the punishment of sealing designation."

Even Barthomeloi, known for his cold, impartial judgment in the Department of Policies, hesitated when he realized that three noble factions were involved in this situation. The Clock Tower had only twelve factions, and this conflict implicated a quarter of them. Moreover, Eulyphis and El-Melloi were both part of his own faction... the aristocratic faction.

He could not understand why Eulyphis, Kayneth, and Marisbury would suddenly betray him and align themselves with this enigmatic individual, Roy, whose background and power remained unclear.

Obviously, there were reasons behind this that he did not yet know. It couldn't simply be because Roy was connected to the Wizard Marshal.

But those reasons didn't matter right now. What he needed was a clear stance. The decisions made by these three would determine their alignment.

"I'm glad to see someone as impartial as yourself showing such leniency."

Hearing Barthomeloi's concession, Marisbury smiled and shook his head, stepping closer to Roy.

"However, I must decline your offer. I choose to stand by Lord Roy."

Marisbury's attitude was sincere, but his refusal was unmistakable.

"My apologies, Your Honor... I once revered Barthomeloi as our king... firmly adhering to aristocratic ideals..."

Eulyphis spoke up, "But after all these years... the result has not satisfied me... endless scheming... meaningless factional strife... even the aristocratic factions can't maintain a unified vision... So I chose a different path..."

"A new opportunity stands before me... a better one... This is the perfect moment for change... and the best chance to unify the Clock Tower's factions."

"So, former king... could you stop here? Continuing down this path will bring no benefit to you or the Clock Tower."

After finishing, the old gentleman lowered his head, giving Barthomeloi the farewell bow of a noble, signifying his departure from his former king.

"A new revolution? Your choice truly opens my eyes, Eulyphis."

By now, Barthomeloi understood Eulyphis' resolve. Without further questions or attempts at persuasion, he glanced briefly at Kayneth but didn't speak. There was no longer any need for words. What remained was to purge the traitors.

"Everyone else, return to your seats. The magical restraints in this room will not affect you."

Barthomeloi raised his gavel, his voice cold.

Now was the time to judge the guilty.

As his words fell, countless floating eyes began to move in unison, like a swarm of bees, gathering together and descending upon the three below. The scene was suffocating.

Under the constant pressure, the hearts of the Lords could barely endure, and they were desperate to leave this perilous room as quickly as possible.

After all, staying inside someone else's magical workshop was akin to handing over their lives, with their fate entirely dependent on the workshop's owner. They wouldn't dare gamble on Barthomeloi's attitude, especially those Lords who had always been at odds with him, from different factions.

Even though the anxiety of these Lords was written clearly on their faces, Barthomeloi, sitting at the head of the room, paid them no mind.

Staring at Roy, who was being encircled layer upon layer, he felt no sense of relief.

Roy's calm and indifferent demeanor caused Barthomeloi's previously assured confidence to waver with unease.

"How utterly ridiculous. Is this your greatest reliance? These simple toys?"

Facing the countless approaching eyes, Roy showed no sign of panic. Instead, he raised his hand slowly, turned to the Lords, and said, in an unhurried manner, "Why bother destroying them with magecraft? Just crush them all with a single surge of magical energy."

At that moment, Barthomeloi and the seated Lords turned their shocked gazes toward the mass of magical eyes surrounding Roy. Suddenly, a terrifying surge of magical energy erupted from him, and the countless magical eyes exploded one after another, the sound of splat echoing continuously.

Roy, standing at the center, reappeared with the other three Lords behind him, looking at them calmly.

Despite the numerous magical familiars exploding, Roy remained unscathed. His clothes were intact, and his expression remained composed and elegant.

Although the three Lords behind him were also unharmed externally, their faces were grim, as though they had witnessed something terrifying.

It was clear that being in such close proximity to this clash of power was not a pleasant experience for them.

In the face of danger, the instinct to flee took over, a basic human response. Even magus fear death.

Seeing Roy break free from the encirclement, the hearts of the Lords sank. The overwhelming magical energy that had erupted now pressed heavily upon them. Their instincts screamed a warning, if they didn't flee now... they would die!

Several Lords made swift decisions, releasing a few familiars or using smoke magecraft, rapidly enhancing their legs with reinforcement magecraft, propelling themselves toward the door at incredible speed.

In just a few breaths, someone had already reached the door. But before they could leap through, a scream rang out, and the fastest Lord was sent flying back by a powerful force that suddenly appeared.

In the next blink of an eye, the golden-haired knight stood before the door. No one knew when she had arrived. With both hands gripping the hilt of her sword, she planted it firmly into the ground, standing there with an air of overwhelming authority.

"Return to your places. If anyone dares approach, don't blame me for being ruthless!"

The terrifying aura of battle energy, mixed with magical energy, surged toward the fleeing Lords, forcing them to halt.

"…"

The Lords exchanged uneasy glances, too afraid to make any further moves.

Looking at the petite figure blocking the doorway, their eyes were filled with dread.

Where did these monsters come from?!

"Please be quiet, everyone. This farce is not yet at its official conclusion."

Roy suddenly snapped his fingers.

The crisp sound echoed painfully in the room as Volumen Hydrargyrum began to flow, swirling a few times before finally returning to his sleeve.

The seals in the room were lifted, and even through the crack of the open door, those inside could see a glimpse of the outside scenery.

Yet no one attempted to leave; even with the door right in front of them, no one moved a step.

It wasn't just because of the presence of Artoria guarding the door; it was that they physically couldn't move.

The Lords who had arrived in a spiritual form, lacking physical bodies, couldn't experience this feeling firsthand, but they could clearly sense a change through the messages relayed by their spiritual forms.

It was magical energy.

"Sorry, I may have been a bit too forceful, causing discomfort. I truly regret that. However..."

The invisible pressure weighing down on them suddenly intensified several times, directly crushing them this time.

The concentration of magical energy in the room continued to rise, quickly reaching the critical threshold their bodies could bear.

At this point, it was no longer a question of whether they wanted to leave; they simply could not move.

Just existing in this space was already causing immense pressure.

Their brains trembled, nearing combustion, limbs began to compress painfully, and breathing became so rapid it felt suffocating.

They had lost control over their own lives.

"Everyone, if possible, please don't resist too much. It's quite difficult to control the force to trample without crushing the ants."

Roy raised his arm, which radiated a white light, and waved gently at them.

"Now, may I kindly ask you to quietly return to your seats?"

"…"

No one answered; no one spoke.

This was only natural.

Roy's presence was overwhelming. If the uncontrolled magical energy were allowed to overflow without his regulation, their situations would only worsen.

Standing beside him, Eulyphis, Marisbury, and Kayneth were within his protective circle; as long as they did not step outside, they would not be harmed by the magical energy.

Watching the scene unfold, seeing their fellow Lords reduced to this state of oppression, the three of them felt equally alarmed.

Surely, if it were them, they would also be in a similarly miserable position.

This was the power that Magicians possessed; in essence and realm, they were beings of an entirely different dimension from magus.

"It seems everyone is cooperating quite well. I'm relieved."

Roy took in everyone's reactions, nodding slightly before finally looking toward the judge from Barthomeloi.

"Do you have anything to say?"

"…"

The figure seated at the head remained distorted, indicating that even in this high-concentration magical energy environment, not only was the magus himself affected but even the spiritual projection he used as a substitute was impacted.

However, this did not affect much; at least the words spoken by this phantom were still clear.

"You've won..."

Barthomeloi murmured.

"Although I have speculated countless times about your identity from the most fantastical angles, the reality is undoubtedly far more surreal than I had anticipated."

Even though he only conveyed this through his spiritual form, Roy could detect some complex emotions in his words.

It was a mix of helplessness and compromise.

"Now I can be certain that your relationship with the Magician of the Second Magic is not merely that of a typical junior to senior, nor is it simply a pleasant crime born from shared interests, and it's even less likely to be the most plausible master-apprentice relationship."

"You are true kindred spirits; you are a being who can walk alongside him. I never expected that aside from the ever-present Magician of the Second Magic Zelretch and the inheritor of the Magician of the Fifth Magic, Aoko Aozaki, the Magician of the Third Magic... who has vanished from history... would reemerge before me."

"The Heaven's Feel, the perpetual motion of infinite magical energy, and that white circuit on you that resembles veins... it seems I have lost without justification."

Barthomeloi looked at Roy and raised his hand in surrender.

Even though he still had other means to employ within this magical workshop, there was no longer any need for it. There was no point in a desperate struggle; it would only provoke him further.

"There's no notion of fairness or unfairness, nor is there a distinction between right and wrong. The only thing that separates us is our choices."

Roy calmly responded.

"Indeed, perhaps you are right. Judging by the outcome, you have won, and it seems the structure of the Clock Tower will be rewritten once again."

His gaze met Roy's, and he shook his head.

Whether it was the identity of the Magician of the Third Magic, the connection to the Magician of the Second Magic, or the display of his power, all of this had led to a complete collapse of this judgment. Now that it had come to this point, there was no need to hold on any longer.

Barthomeloi calmly accepted his defeat.

"Eulyphis, Kayneth, Marisbury, although you are traitors, I must admit that the choices you three made have indeed earned you the future you desire. Now I finally understand your choices."

"For you, there is no longer any need to continue the public trial. This power is your reason for becoming king. If you wish to gain something from the Clock Tower, feel free to state it here; we currently have no power to refuse."

"However, regarding the actions you've taken against the ley lines, the Clock Tower will never show mercy. Whether to the World of Magecraft or the Mage's Association as a whole, it is utterly unforgivable. Even if you were to kill us all, it would not bring an end to this."

"You will not only face the Clock Tower and the Lords ahead; you will engage in a battle with the entire Mage's Association and even the whole World of Magecraft. Prepare to embrace war, Magician of the Third Magic!"

Barthomeloi's voice carried anger, but the judgment remained resolute.

The clarion call of war had already sounded in everyone's hearts.

"Oh? A trial from the entire Mage's Association… how terrifying. But I have no intention of doing so." 

"Destroying too much will break the existing balance. Although destruction may urge the birth of a new order, that transition will undoubtedly come with time and chaos. Mediocre order far outweighs chaos, so just stay quiet and watch."

"Watch how your helpless, agitated ley lines are suppressed."

Then, under the astonished gazes of everyone, Roy tore off the pendant from his neck, releasing the limits on his magical energy.

He slowly spread his arms, once again unleashing his magical energy, causing a huge hole to rupture in the dome of the conference room... or rather, the entire building.

The entire magical workshop collapsed in that instant.

Barthomeloi and the other Lords were stunned, unable to believe it. Could he really suppress the ley lines of all of London?

Meanwhile, the magecraft prepared to suppress the ley lines had been completed, and the released incantation was already spoken.

"Sand, dirt, blood, and then gold."

"Separate into one, gather into two, then transform into three."

"From the core of the earth, converging from five points, until it rushes forth to the focus of sight, surging and sweeping into the final one."

"Grace bestowed on the earth."

This time it was a straightforward demonstration; the surging magical energy burst forth from Roy and the powerful magecraft took form, continuously spreading outward and centered around him, making the surrounding Lords widen their eyes.

Then, under the stirring winds and the influence of magical elements, amid the blinding light of collapse, five hidden points of different natures burst forth from the five directions distributed across London, each releasing torrents of distinctly different magecraft.

These powerful flows of magecraft began to attract each other, wildly moving through the ley lines, ultimately resembling rivers converging to smooth out all agitated streams, and when the waves receded, all that remained was the tranquil flow of a river.

Clearly, all the agitated ley lines had returned to calm under Roy's suppression.

"See? Isn't the issue with the ley lines resolved now?" Roy looked at everyone, who was rendered speechless in shock. "Do any of you have anything else to add?"

"…"

The Lords could only remain silent.

There was nothing to say, nor did they dare to say anything.

"…This power, while intoxicating, also evokes fear. The strength you display is akin to Lord Zelretch, instilling both desire and horror."

"The great power of the Root, the miracle of True Magic!"

Barthomeloi on the throne sighed, his previously angry expression turning into one of contemplation.

"You are the one who agitates the ley lines, and you are also the one who suppresses them. As a new Magician, you could have returned to the Clock Tower like Lord Zelretch in a normal manner, yet you chose the riskiest method."

"Is this merely to showcase your power to us? Or to declare your differences from Lord Zelretch?"

As the Magician of the Third Magic, Roy could indeed take the most conventional path to return. Instead, he chose the riskiest and most brutal method, using absolute power and presence to declare his arrival.

He was the one who instigated the agitation of the ley lines and also the one who quelled the turmoil.

The special identity of the Magician of the Third Magic, combined with the deterrent effect of the power he exhibited, rendered the Clock Tower powerless.

This was a declaration of his arrival made over the faces of the Lords, even trampling upon the Mage's Association, yet they had no means to counter him.

When comparing the powers possessed by both sides, just the terrifying magical power displayed while suppressing the ley lines made it clear that even if they all worked together, they would not be enough to stop him.

No magus with any sense would engage in a futile struggle over face with a Magician.

So they could only let it be.

With the situation developed to this point, the so-called public trial could be said to have ended.

Everyone present knew they could do nothing against this Magician of the Third Magic, especially with three traitors behind him whose allegiances were unknown.

They couldn't help but feel envious and resentful.

These three had quietly attached themselves to such a powerful figure, and the upcoming resource distribution would heavily favor them.

Why wouldn't any Magician seek them out? Was it too late to switch sides now?

Various thoughts churned in the minds of these Lords, but Roy had no intention of addressing them.

He glanced at Barthomeloi and said casually, "Since this matter has concluded, let's call it a day."

"Lords, you are all busy individuals. If there's nothing else, let's disperse. I will be moving around the Clock Tower for the next little while. If you need to find me, just approach the three Lords behind me; they will be able to contact me."

"Then… let's adjourn the meeting."

Roy lightly clapped his hands and spoke for himself, not giving them time for questions, and turned to leave with Artoria, disappearing from everyone's sight.

All that remained were Eulyphis, Kayneth, and Marisbury standing together with the other Lords in the chaotic conference hall, staring at each other in disbelief.

Next, it was time for the new power dynamics to be reshaped.

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