I stood opposite Azazel, who was preparing the barrier in which we would spar. Watching him work, I didn't miss the opportunity to pick up a few interesting techniques he used. In particular, the ability of the barrier itself to absorb the scattered energy left over from attacks, thereby replenishing itself. He didn't tell me much, keeping the most interesting parts to himself, but that's okay.
"How did the conversation with your family go?" the fallen one decided to talk while the barrier was being set up. "They weren't against it?"
"My sister wasn't, my mother wasn't either," I shrugged, "What are they going to do here alone? At least they'll live far away from anything supernatural.
With a grunt, Az double-checked the quality of the created subspace (similar to what demons create for rating games) and, satisfied with what he saw, turned his attention back to me.
"Now, tell me what you did that made Sazex so tense. I've never seen him like that before, and we've known each other for a long time, I might add.
"I don't want what you've learned to go beyond you, maximum Shamkhazai," — the fallen nodded and gestured to continue, "— Remember when I took blood from Vali?
"That was when you had to beat him in sparring five times in a row?
"Yes." I nodded, remembering what had happened. That was when I met Arthur, who was, surprisingly, a descendant of that very Arthur and the owner of a piece of Excalibur.
It was an interesting trinket that reacted to Vali's approach, which led me to certain thoughts. According to Azazel, before it became a broken and useless pile of metal, Excalibur belonged to Lucifer the First and was created by God exclusively for his firstborn. And apparently, the Bible got so confused with the attribution of this weapon that it began to respond when each of Lucifer's descendants approached.
Vali himself did not like weapons, preferring his fists, so he paid no attention to the sword, not even reacting to Albion's remarks about the strange behaviour of the weapon. Exceptional indifference, I might add.
"Hey," Az snapped his fingers in front of my face, "Are you there?
"Oh, sorry, I was lost in thought," I smiled and cleared my throat before continuing, "After taking the blood of the descendant of the 'Great Traitor', I analysed it and tried to clean it of 'foreign impurities', which were genes different from those of demons. After conducting several experiments, I managed to isolate the necessary chains, duplicating them and trying to fill in the nucleotide sequences that had been lost. And in the absence of pure blood from true demons or at least (yes, at least) the blood of the firstborn — Rezhevim — I assumed that Lucik's genes themselves had mutated under the influence of hellish energies, so I inserted angel genes into the empty parts of the DNA. And I forced the resulting cells to divide under the influence of demonic energy, which Vali reluctantly shared again. He didn't even ask me why I was doing it," I rolled my eyes, "But Lucifer's energy made the mutations easier, helping the magic to channel them in the right direction, extracting the pure essence of the first fallen one.
"I understand where you got the genes, but how did you implant them? There must be a conflict not only at the physical level, but also at the energy level," said Azazel, the scientist in him awakening. He took out a notebook and began to take notes."I used your artefact that turns people into fallen ones. It was just a prototype, but it worked, and replacing the transformation template wasn't that difficult," he explained to the fallen one, thinking something through in his mind and starting to make another note.
"And the energy? A mutation of this kind requires a burst of energy, especially considering that we are semi-energetic beings.
Calling up the red dragon's gauntlet, I just looked at it with a hint.
"Did Drayg give you energy? But it's dragon energy, and we need neutral energy, or demonic/angelic energy at worst," the mad scientist persisted.
"This Kulibin," I said with a laugh, "decided to correct this misunderstanding by performing a dragonisation.
"So that's what else I sense in your aura," my uncle said, banging his fist on his palm. "And I thought it was... But it's not the aura of a red dragon...
"A mutation under the influence of angelic and demonic energies," I shrugged, "I don't know the colour of the flock, and to be honest, I don't care.
"Hmm," Az scratched his chin, "Then we need to find out the limits of your powers. Summon the mechanism, use everything you've got. Here," he gestured around the space, "it's difficult to die, and a fatal wound will put you in a coma for subsequent treatment... Just like demons.
"As you wish," we moved some distance away from each other, "Ddraig, what's up with the balance breaker?"
"The body can withstand it, especially after your reinforcement," replied the dragon. "The number of reinforcements is approximately thirty, with a duration of sixty minutes, and the time decreases exponentially with the number of additional reinforcements."
"Strange," I thought. "Balance Breaker," the phrase activated, and the armour of the Nameless King appeared on me. "Red, why this one? The other carriers had plate armour."
"I don't know, the form was chosen on a subconscious level, although most likely your spear and powers are involved. Well, or Father, the real one," the dragon grunted, looking through my memories of Gwyn's firstborn again.
"Interesting shape," Azazel looked me over appraisingly, "There's not even any red! It's all grey, black and gold. The crown suits you, by the way," he nodded importantly and rushed into the attack.
"Strength," the dragon growled in my head, and I felt an unprecedented surge of strength, even my reaction time doubled, allowing me to perceive my uncle's speed much better.
Flying towards me, the fallen one decided not to attack head-on, but used teleportation to get behind me and attacked my side. I turned around, putting up a block, but the impact was too strong, and my armour couldn't stop it, so now I'm flying sideways, trying to dodge and attack Azazel, who has rushed to my aid.
I watched the armoured foot flying straight at my head and tried to cast a magic shield, but it couldn't withstand the blow and disappeared, although it prevented the blow from hitting me.
Azazel still managed to persuade Fafnir to climb into the artefact. I can't think of any other explanation for the golden armour on the fallen one. And the dragon's aura seems to hint at it.
"Fafnir, Fafnir," Ddraig's voice came from my spear, "What did that feathered creature bribe you with, that you allowed him to do this to you?" The red one asked, seemingly reproachfully, but with a hint of humour.
"You can't even imagine, Red!" said the crystal on the fallen man's chest, causing him to stop and listen to the dragons' conversation with interest.
"Knowing you, you bald pervert, they promised you either virgins or the used underwear of those very virgins," said Ddraig ironically.
"H-how did you know...?" the dragon king asked us in shock.
"Are you kidding? Tell me it was a joke..." the red one croaked.
"Huh? YES! YES! It's a joke, ha ha ha," the dragon confirmed our fears.
There was silence for about a minute, which even Az didn't dare to break, nervously shifting from foot to foot. Apparently, he had already prepared the payment...
"Verg," the red one called me emotionlessly, "I don't want to fight anymore. Not today. I need to think. I think I've fallen too far behind."
Plunging into my subconscious for a moment, I saw the dragon curled up in a ball, staring at the streams of air raging beyond the epicentre where we were.
As soon as I returned, Azazel's armour was scattered, and he himself, with an incomprehensible expression on his face, stared at the artefact with Fafnir in his hand.
"Who knew he was so vulnerable and conservative," said the dragon king before the artefact went dark, signalling that the conversation was over.
"Hmm. Well, that's it for our half-hearted sparring," sighed my uncle. "Get ready and go. You still have some settling in to do."
"Wait," I stopped Az, "There's one thing you can't get away with so easily.
"Another stupid idea?" he raised an eyebrow. "I'm listening," he said, seeing me hesitate a little, and he instantly became serious.
"I know where the Grail is," I exhaled and stared at the fallen man, "It's in a very unsafe place, in the hands of some very unsafe people... creatures.
"Hmm, and you've decided that I'd be interested in retrieving it. You're right about that, but I won't do anything until I find out who has it and decide if it's worth it.
"It's with the vampires. Transylvania. I won't tell you who has it until you decide whether it's worth helping to steal it, or rather, return it to its rightful owners — the angels.
"Vampires," Az drawled, "they've weakened, and they can't cause any trouble. And after Vlad III left, they have no influence in the political arena. In principle, it's a good idea, but you shouldn't have started this. Do you want to take it for yourself?
"Yes," I decide not to lie, "They could sell him to our enemies, especially with the upcoming summit. And besides, he'll help with our research.
"Yours. But I need him too. You're right that he's safer with us than with unknown variables.
"I wouldn't want to leave him in Grigory, there may be Koki-chan spies here who won't hesitate to take him. And for you, as a close relative and loyal unit with sufficient power, I will be a suitable candidate who, if necessary, will take YOUR side. Not the fallen, yours.
Az thought about it. He thought hard. He understood that there were rats in his organisation, and they would not miss the opportunity to pocket such a valuable artefact. But what I am offering him is tantamount to declaring war on vampires. And that would damage his reputation. But only if we get caught.
"I hear you. I need to think about it," said the fallen one thoughtfully, turning towards the exit. And he added, apparently to himself, "That's what the blood of the First does.
I don't understand, I've always been like this. Oh well, I've loaded him up, so all that's left to do is wait. Now it's time to gather my things. The city of Kuo awaits. Our sparring ended badly, though. How stupid.
*****
The preparations went quickly, and now we were standing at the entrance to a brand new house.
"After you," I decided to be a gentleman, opening the door and letting the ladies go first.
The girls just snorted, but they entered the house. The building turned out to be two stories high, with four rooms on the second floor, plus a bathroom and toilet, and three rooms on the first floor, plus a kitchen, bathroom, and living room. Everything was built according to Japanese standards with a slight addition of European minimalism. Nothing superfluous, everything was simple and functional.
My mother immediately took over the kitchen and, after sending me to the shop to buy groceries, put my sister to work cleaning the entire house. And without using magic. Why? I have no idea, but it wasn't worth arguing, so we set to work.
Luckily, the house was not far from the shop, so seven or ten minutes later I was standing with a trolley and filling it with food from the list.
"Excuse me," I said to a schoolgirl who was choosing cheese next to me, "I'm new to Japan," I added with a slight accent, "Could you help me choose which one is best? There are so many brands that I'm having trouble choosing," I smiled sheepishly and scratched the back of my head.
"Oh!" she exclaimed, "Your spoken English is excellent, even with an accent," the girl smiled, "I'm Tsubaki Shinra, take this one, you won't regret it.
So you're the Queen of Sona Citri. The report described you as cold and aloof. She's good at hiding her demonic energy until you pay close attention and sense the demon within her. The most interesting thing about her is her artefact, the Mirror of Alice, which reflects an enemy's attack and summons three assistants. One puts them to sleep, the second throws them off balance, and the third puts them under an illusion. Interesting, of course, but not enough to attract attention.
What else can be said about her... She's tall, beautiful, wears glasses, is strict with herself and those around her, and isn't stupid. That's basically it. She hasn't had a chance to stand out in any way. So, we wrap up the conversation and head home, since almost everything is already in the cart.
"Thanks for your help," I smile and start to walk away.
"And you?" she asks, adjusting her glasses and looking me up and down. Fuck you.
"Virgil.
"Just Virgil?" she raises an eyebrow.
"For a girl like you, just Virgil, no need for formalities or surnames," I smile again, trying to change the subject.
"Come on," the girl blushed, but I didn't let her continue.
"You're beautiful, Tsukuba, your skin," I took her hand, "is as soft as silk, and your voice is like the gentle ringing of bells," I added, and then, "And your eyes," I moved closer to her, my breath burning her skin, "I can't take my eyes off them."
The girl couldn't take it and, stammering, ran out, followed by the surprised glances of the other customers and my dissatisfied gaze. No, instead of answering the question and forgetting about my existence, no, I had to start a conversation. Damn these Japanese, always getting under your skin and into your personal space with their questions. Well, I got her attention, better to be visible, that way they won't pay attention to small details, especially if they're hidden against a large background.
After paying for my purchases, I headed home, which, as if by Murphy's Law, was not far from the house of a certain pervert whose soul was periodically tormented by red. So, as soon as I passed his house, I heard crying, sobbing and moaning about the loss of his dear son. But what was surprising was that the guy had a sister, a twin. And that's not canon. As soon as I looked into the house with my magic, I saw a picture of the daughter comforting her mother, who looked like a female version of her brother. And the sister was also skilled in magic, even though she could hide it. Does anyone have skeletons in their closet?
Well, screw her, she has no mechanism, she's of little use, let her run around looking for a relative's soul. She's not in the way, so whatever.
The last days before entering the academy were filled with hustle and bustle. My mother wanted to redecorate the house to her liking, and she enlisted my sister's help, but I managed to get out of it by saying I had work to do in the lab. And I wasn't lying; I needed to study Gremory blood, purify it, and inject it into myself, preferably without any subsequent problems.
Therefore, by a strong decision of myself and my personal scaly schizophrenia, it was decided to inoculate myself with new genes, practise using the mechanism and magic, and not get into trouble. We decided it was too early. There was little time left, only three weeks before the start of the academic year.
***
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