"I found you!" Marie chirped. "I've been looking for you, Black Jeanne!"
"…Queen," Jeanne d'Arc Alter replied warily.
"You're planning something to boost 'girl power' for Master, right? How wonderful!" Marie beamed. "Let me help, please!"
"…I don't have the right to ask you for anything," Jeanne muttered.
"Huh…?"
(Asking someone I tried to burn alive? What face could I possibly show…)
"Hehe, let me guess!" Marie said playfully. "You're still holding a grudge about France, aren't you?"
"—!" Jeanne stiffened.
"No need to worry!" Marie continued. "Jeanne and Blackbeard recommended an anime with a great line: 'Yesterday's enemy is today's friend!' And, 'Today's friend is tomorrow's friend!'"
"…!" Jeanne's eyes widened.
"If we were enemies before, we can be friends now!" Marie said. "Come on, Master-loving Black Jeanne, let me help you!"
"…Teach me," Jeanne said after a pause.
"Hm?"
"Teach me everything! How to level up my girl power!"
"Oh, yes! Girl power boost! Let's do this!" Marie clapped excitedly.
The Hero King's Troupe: Quest for Inspiration
"Argh! I'm beat!" Mordred groaned, collapsing onto the sofa as soon as they returned to the apartment.
"Senpai, you okay?" Mash asked, concerned.
"Totally fine!" Rikka grinned. "Compared to a hundred-golem gauntlet, this is nothing! I could keep going!"
"Even Master's unfazed, Mordred," Artoria teased. "How pathetic. Remember Britain's marches."
"I get it, okay?" Mordred grumbled. "But there's just too many of those things out there… Can't blast 'em with my Noble Phantasm, and they're tough as hell…"
The four had been patrolling the city, aiming to thin enemy numbers, but the sheer volume of foes had overwhelmed them, piling on exhaustion.
"The King just swings her holy sword—easy job," Mordred muttered. "Gawain, one day I'll mash your skull, brains and all."
"Father?" Artoria tilted her head.
"Nothing…" Mordred sighed, then noticed something. "Huh? Gil, Andersen, Shakespeare, and Jekyll aren't here. Out somewhere?"
"Know anything, Fran?" Rikka asked, turning to Fran, who was munching a scone, looking drained.
"They went… story-hunting… on a tour," Fran mumbled.
"Touring? All four?" Rikka asked.
"Andersen said… four's enough. King said… rest up. Made Fran… messenger," she replied.
"…Will they be okay?" Mash wondered.
"They'll be fine! Gil's with them!" Rikka said confidently.
"Indeed," Artoria agreed. "His power is a pinnacle. In his current state, there's no cause for concern."
"You're really sold on Goldie, huh, Father?" Mordred teased.
"I sense a Gilgamesh not unlike the one I know," a voice chimed in. "Hey, long time no see! It's Hero X, back from training!"
"Hero X?!" Mordred barked. "Where the hell are you talking from?! Show yourself!"
"Soon enough! For now, rest up! Rest is a knight's duty too!"
"Let's all hit the bath together!" Rikka cheered.
"Mordred's fine with that, right? You don't like being treated all girly," Artoria said slyly.
"Wha—?! N-no, I mean…" Mordred stammered.
"I think it's great! Naked bonding!" Hero X added.
"What's your deal?!" Mordred roared.
"There's stew… and meat pie," Fran said, chewing. "Let's eat together. Munch munch."
A lively moment passed in the apartment.
Meanwhile, in a corner of London, at the ruins of the Mage's Association—a desolate wasteland of shattered structures.
"They destroyed this place thoroughly," the King remarked, surveying the wreckage. "You can feel the panic of whoever did this."
Debris littered the site, every trace of form obliterated.
"Something here must've been inconvenient to reveal," Andersen noted.
"Exactly," the King agreed. "But completely erasing information or burning books is impossible. No matter how much they destroy, there's always a way to preserve it. In this case—"
"Underground," Jekyll finished. "The Mage's Association wouldn't keep everything in plain sight. There's bound to be magical protections, safeguards against destruction."
Underground, huh? Then we'll need to clear this rubble.
"Then—" the King began.
"Step back," he ordered.
Selecting a treasure, he summoned a scaled-down version of the 'Strength' archetype—a giant's right hand—from the Gate of Babylon.
"Hnng—!" he grunted.
The giant's arm moved with his gesture, pulverizing the rubble into dust.
"A resplendent treasury of treasures!" Shakespeare exclaimed. "The giant's arm, shining with glory, sweeps away the desolate ruins! A scene straight from the dawn of myth, a miniature of creation itself, igniting the imagination!"
"You're endlessly useful when cooperative," the King said, grinning. "As expected of an epic's hero. Is this your true face?"
"Who knows?" the King replied. "But I'm definitely in a great mood!"
There—a patch of ground with a different color.
"That's the entrance," Andersen pointed out. "Let's go, Hero King's troupe. Time for an inspirational expedition."
"Haha… incredible," Jekyll muttered. "This is… the pinnacle of heroes."
Exactly. The Hero King is incredible.
The troupe opened the hidden door and ventured down the long underground passage.
"To think we'd be dungeon-crawling in London," the King mused. "Should've brought Master along."
"She'd be too noisy to read," Andersen grumbled. "Letting her hone her girl power back at the apartment is more productive."
"The path to boosting girl power?" Shakespeare interjected. "Conversation with fellow ladies! Flower to flower, crafting a sweet garden! Ah, truly—"
"Want to die?" the King cut in.
"My usual habit!" Shakespeare pleaded. "Please, overlook it!"
"My patience has limits," the King warned. "You've got two more chances."
"…A merciless yet joyous king's saga…" Shakespeare mused. "If I wrote your tale, would it be tragedy or comedy?"
"Comedy, obviously," the King declared. "Make it a riotous, uproarious tale for all to enjoy!"
"—As you wish," Shakespeare agreed.
"There," the King said, pointing. "We've reached the door."
At the passage's end stood a faintly glowing door.
"Right," Andersen said. "Shakespeare and I will search for books. Jekyll, you—"
"I'll cover you here," Jekyll said. "I need to pull my weight too."
"Very well!" Shakespeare declared. "Let's begin our battle for wisdom!"
"Keep it short," the King said. "I don't have much patience for a chatty toddler and a loudmouth middle-ager."
"I'll get results," Andersen promised. "Wait quietly."
"—The Holy Grail War, and the anomaly in Servant summoning?" the King clarified.
"Yeah," Andersen replied. "We're at a dead end with what we know. Hopefully, we'll find answers here."
The Holy Grail War and Servant summoning…? What's that about?
Before he could ponder further, peace was shattered.
"Enemies, Hero King!" Jekyll called. "Quite a number!"
Automata, Helter Skelters, and…
"Nursery…?" the King noted. "No, books empowered by her influence."
Floating magical tomes—likely a defense mechanism to repel intruders seeking information.
"No choice, then," the King said. "A stage unfit for a king's radiance, but I'll buy some time."
He began selecting treasures, choosing one suited for the narrow space to minimize collateral damage.
"I'll lend a hand, Hero King," Jekyll said.
"—What?" the King asked, surprised.
I feel the same… Jekyll?
"You can handle it," Jekyll said. "This… I don't want the pure ones to see."
He drew a vial of elixir from his pocket.
What's that…?
"So, it's time to unveil your cursed 'escape personality,'" the King said.
"Exactly," Jekyll replied. "I can't just talk big. I'll use this life's chip for everyone's sake… Here goes…"
In an instant, Jekyll's aura transformed.
His hair spiked, his intelligent expression twisted grotesquely. His eyes bloodshot, teeth bared like a beast, posture crouched like a predator.
"—It's here! It's here! IT'S HERE!!" he roared.
"The mist's influence or this sealed space…" the King muttered. "To think such a flawed hero would be summoned. As a fellow hero, I'm almost embarrassed."
"HYAHAHAHAHA!! Your boy's HERE!" Hyde bellowed. "I'll slaughter you all!!"
"'Jekyll and Hyde,'" the King said. "By legend, you're Hyde, right?"
"Spot on!" Hyde cackled. "Pop those eyeballs open and watch! This is MY stage! HYAHAHAHAHA!!"
Roaring like a Berserker, Hyde tore into the enemies.
"So crass," the King remarked. "Better not shoot him by mistake."
He selected the 'Reflection' archetype—a palm-sized, blue elastic sphere.
"Here's some entertainment!" he said, snapping his wrist to toss it.
The sphere bounced, gaining power with each rebound, piercing enemies, accelerating, and efficiently annihilating them.
"Wiping out riffraff without lifting a finger," the King laughed. "This is a king's battle! Fuhahahaha!"
"What's with that bouncy-bouncy crap?!" Hyde screamed. "Noisy! Kill, kill, kill, KILL!!"
Spurred on, Hyde's frenzy intensified.
"Jekyll's gonna feel that muscle pain," the King muttered, amused.
Backflips, cartwheels… that's too much exercise out of nowhere…
As Hyde and the superball rampaged, clearing the passage, Andersen and Shakespeare emerged.
"Sorry for the wait," Andersen said. "Research done. Let's head back."
"No books?" the King asked.
"Magical defenses," Andersen explained. "Destroy them, and we're buried alive. Had to leave them."
"Don't tell me this was a waste," the King warned.
"No worries," Andersen said. "I memorized the contents."
Memorized?! In that short time?!
Incredible… Writers have amazing memories too?!
"Great results!" Shakespeare declared. "Let's return in triumph, heralding the King's victory! …Oh? What's wrong, Jekyll?"
Jekyll, slumped over, groaned, "Just… muscle pain."
"Alright, let's move!" the King said. "This dreary underground reading's aftertaste will be blown away by my tour! Fuhahaha! Bikes are handy, aren't they? Slower than Vimana, but their maneuverability's unmatched! Feeling the wind, riding an iron steed like my own limbs—what a thrill!"
Completely agree. Someday, I want to tour the world…
Hope Fou enjoys it too.
Lending Jekyll a shoulder, the jovial King set off for home.
"HWAHHHH!?" Shakespeare yelped.
"Fuhahahaha!" the King roared. "How's it feel, playwright? The front-row seat on the Gilgil Machine! Turn your thoughts into poetry! Let's hear it!!"
"Pounding wind! Jarring shocks! The thrill of death if I let go!! Truly, this is—!" Shakespeare began.
"No more!" the King cut in. "You'll bite your tongue!"
"How cruel—!!" Shakespeare wailed.
"Why am I stuck in the back?!" Andersen griped. "Give me the sidecar, Jekyll!"
"Sorry, muscle pain…" Jekyll mumbled.
"Damn it, a nightmare!" Andersen groaned. "Clinging to the Hero King to not fall off…!"
"Fine by me!" the King laughed. "We'll reach the apartment soon—sing for your lives, writers!!"
The wind feels amazing…
-------------------------------
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