Chapter 55: Punishing the Saint
"By the power of a Command Spell, I order you: Transfer the ownership of Ruler to Shirou Orihara!"
The magical energy of the Command Spell, comparable to High Thaumaturgy, activated at that moment. Jeanne felt an irresistible force transferring all rights over her to the man walking toward her.
Jeanne looked at Caren, who had closed her eyes, with a gaze full of despair. How could she have imagined that at the final moment, she would be backstabbed by her own Master!
Finally, Shirou stood before Jeanne. Amidst the girl's resentful gaze, he reached out and tilted her chin up.
"It's quite a bad habit to arbitrarily pass judgment on others just because you believe you possess invincible power, you know."
"What... do you want to do?"
Jeanne had just experienced the sensation of being betrayed by someone she trusted; her mood was currently at its absolute lowest point.
"Didn't you want to know what kind of person I am? Very soon, you will find out."
As Shirou spoke, he looked at the girl he had captured. The Saint, who had seemed quite fierce moments ago, appeared much more agreeable now. Then, Shirou raised his hand, and a Command Spell—one he had never used a single stroke of—began to glow.
Seeing that crimson light flare, despair once again covered Jeanne's eyes.
"By the power of a Command Spell: Ruler, lose all capacity for movement."
A sensation of profound weakness rapidly spread through her entire body. Jeanne felt as though every ounce of strength had been drained; her body went limp and she collapsed. Shirou reached out to catch her slender waist, pulling her into his arms and ignoring the Saint's glare of indignation and humiliation.
The hostility bred by his actions thus far was not something that could be erased by mere words.
"That's enough for today. We'll meet again, Miss Caren."
Shirou waved to the silver-haired girl and turned to leave with Saber. He left Caren standing there, watching his back as if she wanted to say something, her heart feeling strangely empty for reasons she couldn't explain.
The girl didn't understand; she had already repaid her debt of gratitude, so why did she feel this sense of loss? Raising her hand to her chest, Caren closed her eyes.
-
-
-
As the long night passed, the outline of the basement Shirou had excavated beneath his home gradually emerged. The light spilling in from the rooms above caused the darkness underground to thin out. Even though all entrances had been tightly sealed, they could not block the invasion of light. A place intended to be sealed in darkness still received the sun's bounty as day followed night.
"Ha... ha..."
Doors and windows are, by nature, existences meant to let things in and out. Even if tightly sealed, it is impossible to fill every crack, and they cannot truly cease to function as pathways. If one truly wished to escape the sunlight completely, they shouldn't have prepared any entrance from the start. If one loves the dark, they should dive deep underground into an abyss from which there is no return.
"Ugh..."
Jeanne's pained voice echoed through the basement. This basement could not be called perfect—neither the way the sunlight exposed all secrets without reservation, nor the way the basement so easily lost its privacy.
"Ugh... Shirou Orihara... Nngh... such behavior will surely bring divine punishment upon you...!"
The irrepressible distress made it impossible for Jeanne to control her voice. Shirou naturally wouldn't do anything too outrageous to her, but it was a different story when someone else was involved.
"How is the situation?" Shirou asked Medea, who was standing beside him, as he looked at Jeanne's current state.
"This isn't a damaging magecraft; I simply want to weaken her will and punish her a little. However, I didn't expect her magic resistance to be so high. If I weren't continuously using Age of Gods magecraft to apply debuff effects, it would be difficult to push her to this state."
Medea chuckled, her lips—painted with purple lipstick—curving into a soul-stirring arc.
"I see. Then let our Saint stay here and calmly reflect for a while," Shirou nodded.
"Leave it to me," the witch smiled.
Saber, standing behind them, watched Jeanne. Though Jeanne wasn't suffering physical wounds, she was in a state of 'torture'—restrained and subjected to something akin to being tickled while unable to move. Even though Saber had been made quite uncomfortable by the other's Command Spells the night before, after understanding what kind of person this Saint was, she still felt a sense of mutual sympathy.
"Is doing this... really alright...?"
"It's just a small lesson, don't worry," Medea replied.
Saying this, the witch turned her gaze back to the Saint who was clenching her teeth and enduring.
Drip... drip...
Beads of sweat slid down the girl's forehead and dripped from her chin. Just by looking at those tightly closed lips enduring humiliation, the cold basement seemed to rise in temperature. For Jeanne, who had lost her Noble Phantasm Luminosité Eternelle, while her Magic Resistance: EX allowed her to evade direct damage from Medea's Age of Gods magecraft, the negative effects were gradually seeping into her body under the continuous stacking of spells.
"If we use another Command Spell, I expect it won't be long before the Saint is completely at our disposal," Medea said to Shirou.
However, Shirou shook his head gently. "If we do that, her rationality will melt away completely. She would be broken."
"I see. Master, you truly do have a unique interest in women in distress," Medea laughed seductively. Shirou could sense the hidden meaning behind her words.
"Heh, true. Otherwise, I wouldn't have kept you around," Shirou said, intentionally leaning close to Medea's pointed ear—a trait unique to elves.
Instantly, the half of her face visible under her hood flushed crimson. If he were to lift her hood now, he would surely see the woman's embarrassed, blushing cheeks. However, Shirou knew when to stop. If he did this while they were alone, Medea might only offer symbolic resistance and let him admire her; after all, Shirou had seen her face long ago.
"Let's go... the sun is up."
Shirou glanced at the sunlight peeking through the exit and spoke. Giving one last look to the Saint who was desperately struggling to maintain her spirit, he left the basement.
Perhaps due to his curiosity about this Saint, Shirou had an unexpected dream that night. It was about the witch trial the Saint had encountered during her life.
Read ahead (100 chapters) by supporting me on buymeacoffee com/varietl or ko-fi edwriting