115

While slowly going down the slightly cluttered stairs leading to the the vaults of the Mage's Association, Leonardo Da Vinci, as befits the greatest genius of all times and peoples, was currently engaged in such a number of things that it would be difficult enough for an ordinary person to even list, let alone do it.

There are a lot of conjectures - some from the still not disappearing and, perhaps, now forever settled in the mind of Da Vinci, reflections about who Ainz was. The previous two hundred and seventy-two theories have already been discarded. And, judging by the direction of Da Vinci's current thoughts, two more would soon join the discarded pile.

Then there are some idle thoughts about whether Da Vinci should have amused her pride by challenging Archer to a culinary duel or not.

She's also committing a lot of observations, Da Vinci's careful gaze noted the hundreds of details along her way down the vault. From the composition of the underground soil of London, though she has to admit without some specialized equipment it is quite inaccurate, with an error tolerance of about two percent. All the way to the manner with which Jekyll preferred to step carefully on the steps in front of him despite the fact that he could perfectly see quite well in the fairly well-lit stairwell.

Along with many other side activities. From a hand restlessly reaching for a piece of paper, wishing, as if without the knowledge of its mistress, to start sketching the surrounding tunnels. To an involuntary reaction to the sound of a stone crumbling nearby trying to get her feet tangled in her desire to investigate.

Oh yes, Da Vinci was currently incredibly aroused!

Not sexually, well… not anything sexual strictly speaking. Da Vinci herself did not really remember the last time she experienced sexual arousal. Yet, with her eternal craving for exploration, reflection and action - as well as excellent control of her own body and libido - she has not thought of anything so mundane for a long time. Although this did not mean that she would shy away from such thoughts.

Da Vinci was incredibly excited by the prospects that have now opened up to her!

Living in Chaldea was a measured existence, suitable for someone as thoughtful and calm as Da Vinci. But still horribly boring - completely unsuitable for someone as active as Da Vinci.

And although Da Vinci was certainly grateful to Olga for giving her a place in Chaldea and Chaldea itself for the long, quiet time in it's halls. The Singularity, action and the complexity of the task that arose before her made Da Vinci rejoice much more.

Or, to put it even simply. Da Vinci was simply happy to do anything at the moment that required her to take practical action, and not just theoretical inventions and theorization.

Therefore, in the end, no one in their right mind could fault Da Vinci for not seeing the ambush. In the end, her mind was already overwhelmed, her attention was divided, and the ambush that was created was certainly executed at the highest level of stealth.

However, one cannot forget that Leonardo Da Vinci - the genius of geniuses - was certainly a genius. And therefore her step stopped even before even the vaunted Instinct of Arthuria - and, let's say, a certain Saber, warned them about the ambush.

"Stop", - Da Vinci raised her hand at the top, and then glanced at the underground tunnel going forward, dimly sparkling with electric lamps burning not far away.

According to the command, Arthuria instantly stopped - after which Jekyll and Saber followed suit, immediately paying attention to Da Vinci.

Da Vinci, however, did not answer, instead turning her attention to a near and completely inconspicuous section of the wall.

Ten out of ten even the most experienced magi would not notice anything.

But Da Vinci was not a magi, but a miracle in the flesh, the greatest genius and the master of all earthly sciences - at least as she loved to repeat in her mind.

And, one has to admit, her confidence was not entirely wrong.

Of course, Da Vinci did not have any skills that could distinguish a trap at a glance.

But Da Vinci had a skill that allowed her to acquire any other skills - including those that were able to detect almost any trap at a glance.

Less than a second of thought - and Da Vinci broke into a smile.

"Philip!" - Da Vinci's exuberant voice resounded through the underground tunnel without losing its cheerfulness from colliding with the dark walls, - "It's been so long! How many years has it been that we have not seen each other!"

For a second after Da Vinci's exclamation, there was nothing but silence, in which only the soft creak of Saber's metal armor could be heard. It didn't take long for Da Vinci to hear a disappointed sigh and the voice that she, the genius, expected, - "Da Vinci… will I really never be able to surpass you in magical skill?"

"Huh, what are you talking about?!" - Not seeing her opponent, Da Vinci smiled into the void - but still her gaze carefully scanned the surrounding environment.

Da Vinci did not need to look far, behind Da Vinci's back, there was a staircase going upstairs, so there could only be one direction for the source of the voice to appear in. "You are still good - no, even better than you were in life - it took me almost three seconds to see through your disguise!"

"Honestly, I'm not sure if that can be considered a compliment?" The voice sounded loud but still very soft, as if the speaker was trying to be polite in everything, even in his intonation, - "But still, I'm grateful for your flattering words."

A second later, Saber was finally able to hear quiet steps - after which she saw a man appearing seemingly out of nowhere.

However, the fact that the speaker was a man was clear only from his voice, not at all from his appearance. The speaker was not particularly tall, and his thin figure, soft facial features and very feminine appearance made him look very androgynous even outright feminine in the right light. His white robe, similar to one would wear in a laboratory - or medical setting though with more embellishments - that stretched to the bottom of his soles also hid his figure. Completely obscuring the outline of his body further diminishing any masculine figure he might have. His long, gray-blue hair also did not give him any sense of masculinity. On the contrary, it additionally softened the features of the speaker, which made his male voice now seem rather unsuitable for the figure.

Saber reflexively clenched his fist on the hilt of his sword just from being reminded of someone very unpleasant.

The speaker was not perceived as a Servant, but Instinct, a skill akin to foreseeing the future, told Saber that this was not an adversary that should easily be dismissed.

"What revealed my presence this time?" Philip, who was speaking, smiled a soft smile, while addressing Da Vinci. "I'm sure that I had managed to perfectly reproduce the magical disguise…"

"Of course", - Da Vinci smiled generously, - "But this time it was not your magecraft that had let you down. It was simply that the brickwork was particularly suspicious."

"Hm?" - Philip exhaled in surprise, then turned around, completely not bothering with his protection, exposing his back to the enemy - and then looked at the place that Da Vinci had pointed out, - "How vexing…"

After looking for another couple of seconds, Philip exhaled slowly and turned to Da Vinci, looking not at all upset, but still somewhat discouraged, - "I beg your pardon, Da Vinci... But I don't see anything special that would reveal my presence… "

"Judging by its appearance, the bricks there are bonded in a flemish bond, while the rest of the tunnel is bonded in an english style." Da Vinci explained as if bricklaying techniques is something that everyone knows, then smiled, - "However, this is all that I managed to notice - my praise to you for such a clever trap!"

After the explanation, Philip broke into a smile, after which he chuckled softly, covering the lower part of his face with his sleeve.

"You are inimitable as always, Da Vinci", - Philip exhaled, then looked at Da Vinci, - "Indeed, what else should I expect if I oppose you?"

"Oh, do not be sad, Philip, it was indeed a perfectly made trap." Da Vinci smiled back at him, - "I'm sure that it would work against any other Servant - no need to be so disappointed about it."

"Oh, I'm not disappointed at all", - Philip exhaled, then shook his head from side to side, - "It's not shameful to lose to the best after all."

The conversation between the two magi went so calmly and naturally - as if with two friends who had met by chance in the middle of the city, that Saber involuntarily expressed his opinion, - "Who the fuck are you?!"

"That is very rude", - Da Vinci, demonstrating the same casual disregard for her potential enemy as the Servant in front of them, turned to Saber with a slight frown on her face, - "And I ask you not to insult my friend."

"Oh, Da Vinci, it's not worth it to be so, I'm not offended at all." The man smiled calmly in response, and then looked at Saber, - "As for my name - hmm, I suppose, since my friend is on your side there is no point to hide… Though are we close enough to be called friends, hm?"

Philip, just in case, glanced at Da Vinci, as if wondering if he had accidentally offended her now in his own words, but after waiting for the girl's dismissive nod, he continued, - "There is certainly no point in hiding my identity. My name is Philippus Aureolus Theophrastus Bombastus von Hohenheim."

"Literally who?" Saber threw a blank look at the Servant's introduction, which could be seen even behind Saber's full plate helmet.

"He is better known by his alias", - Da Vinci nevertheless explained to Saber with a smile, - "Paracelsus."

The world froze. Saber froze. Arthuria, already frozen, clasped a hand on her blade. Jekyll, for lack of a blade, froze especially strongly.

If any magi of the Association were asked to name three famous magi of the past, the name of Paracelsus von Hohenheim would be named as one of them in ninety-five cases out of a hundred.

It is not every day that great doctors, scientists, chemists, and science revolutionaries of the ordinary world turn out to also simultaneously be great magi, researchers, teachers, and masters of the magical world.

It is also not a common occurrence that someone is born with a natural affinity for all existing elements and types of magic.

Of course, it is not every day the magi who created one of the most important artifacts of all existing magi of the Association - the Azoth Blade - was born.

And, of course, a rarity among rarity that a creator of Philosopher's Stone would be born.

And amongst all the impossibilities, for all these qualities to be present in one person. To be more precise, this has happened only once in the history of the Mage's Association, at the birth of Paracelsus, one of the greatest magi in the history of mankind.

Saber felt an invisible pressure fall on his shoulders, an Instinct for him to lean forward like a wild animal ready to pounce on a threat.

But Paracelsus was calm and relaxed, looking at the agitated Saber. However, this was not disdain or arrogance, as much as ordinary human politeness and friendliness, which he, most likely, would have retained even in the face of the apocalypse.

"Paracelsus, I sincerely wanted to chat with you", - Da Vinci smiled at the man in response, - "Of course, I'm a little sorry that our usual tea party this time would have passed without your favorite fruit basket cakes... But, well, next time, I suppose?"

"Alas, Leo", - Paracelsus smiled affably in response, - "I would also be glad to spend the time talking with you - you will not believe how many theories and discoveries I would like to discuss with you... However…"

Paracelsus slowly spread his arms to the sides, looking at Da Vinci with an apologetic smile, as if it were he who was to blame for the situation, - "Please, do not bear any grudge against me."

"Of course not, Philip!" - Da Vinci smiled at the one, - "You are one of those people who simply cannot be offensive at all…"

After that, Da Vinci turned to the other Servants, - "Now - scatter from here. And fast."

"What?" - Saber managed to sound indignant - before Arthuria grabbed him in an iron grip - and dragged him away sharply, - "Hey!"

Da Vinci turned to Paracelsus, looking at him affably, - "How much time did you have to prepare?"

"A month and a half", - Paracelsus breathed out, - "I was one of the first summoned into this Singularity."

"So…" - Da Vinci thought for a second, - "Twelve elementals, six philosopher's stones and eight traps?"

"Nine traps", - Paracelsus corrected the girl.

"Oh", - Da Vinci was surprised for a second, - "So, you became even stronger in the time I didn't see you!"

"I had a great figure that I was chasing after, after all." Paracelsus looked at Da Vinci.

"Flatterer", - Da Vinci snorted, then exhaled and looked at Paracelsus affably, - "Definitely... I never thought that I would meet you in battle. In a spar? Maybe. But in combat, definitely not."

"Hmm, in that case, can I say that I was able to surprise a genius that was able to predict any event in the world?" Paracelsus smiled gently, saying a half-joke, "Who among us is more flattering in this case?"

"Surprisingly, even after becoming an enemy, your manners did not disappear", - Da Vinci shook her head, then turned her gaze a little to the side, looking into the distance at the depth of the catacombs, - "I suppose there is no point in this case in searching for the reasons for the fog that appeared in the records of the Association now?"

"Honestly, I cannot unambiguously answer your question", - Paracelsus thought, bowing his head a little guiltily, as if apologizing for his inability to answer Da Vinci directly, - "I tried to destroy all the data that I could... But your presence distracted me before I could burn through all the vaults…"

"Paracelsus, you, burning magic research?!" - Da Vinci recoiled from the news in horror, looking at Paracelsus as if at an unknown monster, - "You are certainly out of your mind!"

"Definitely", - Paracelsus exhaled guiltily, looking down, - "I would prefer to do without such barbaric methods, but, alas, my order was very clear…"

"What a pity", - Da Vinci pursed her lips in accusation, then blinked, - "Oh, it seems the Servants have left at a sufficient distance."

"I knew that you were bidding for time.", - Paracelsus looked at Da Vinci, but despite his words, there was not even a hint of irritation or condemnation in his eyes - on the contrary, it contained hidden praise and unspoken words 'that's what I expected from you ', - "But, I warn you... Even if you and I were friends - I will not hold back."

"Philip", - Da Vinci rolled her eyes, - "We weren't friends. We are friends. And as my friend you certainly know…"

Da Vinci broke into a smile that did not shine with her usual extravagant cheerfulness, but with the predatory grin of a wild beast, - "That I will never insult you by conceding a game. And of course, I hope that you will be above and beyond offending me in this way."

"Of course, Leo", - Paracelsus nodded, then looked up.

A second later, two Casters, two friends, two great magi came together in battle.

The appearance of the new enemy was first noticed not by Fran, but by Medusa. Indeed, although Fran could perfectly navigate in a city swallowed by smog and easily find any opponent with her abilities - the reason for this was not a unique conceptual ability that turned reality backwards, cutting the fabric of the world with her incredible power, but in something much more mundane and less exotic.

Electricity.

In the end, the mechanical dolls of the unknown enemy were powered by mundane electricity - although much less so than more modern robots… if such a thing exists. Although this was not so important at the moment.

A small amount of electricity was generated by all living organisms, and almost any movable and tangible creature possessed a small electromagnetic field simply by the act of living.

Excluding the new Servant that just now appeared.

Medusa froze. Fran froze.

The servant felt alien to the senses of both of them, wrong, completely different from how it should have been.

"Good day", - The young voice of a very young girl resounded along the empty street, completely audible in the smog that covered London, - "I would really like to make friends with you, but I'm afraid the ending of this book will be too happy for my Master in that case... In case, I ask you not to be angry with me - but I'm afraid I will have to… deal with you."

Medusa shifted her gaze to the speaker.

A very young girl, perhaps ten or twelve years old, dressed as if as a doll in a black and purple dress, whose white hair, woven into two braids, that descended in front of her chest looked strange for her environment of impenetrable gray fog, but at the same time extremely suitable, like a child from a horror book, moving inexorably towards its goal.

However, every honed feeling of Medusa told her that in fact, the speaker did not look at all like how she appears to be.

Medusa did not rush into battle - but at the same time did not allow herself a moment of delay.

Medusa's eyes flashed with dull golden sparks - after which Medusa's pupil extended, and the iris brightened several tones.

"Mystical Eyes?" The speaker paused before looking at Medusa. "Hmm, Illusion Perception? No, not that…"

Medusa frowned at her opponent.

"I would not like to continue neither mine nor your torment", - the girl exhaled, - "Therefore, please, do not resist more than necessary."

Medusa did not want to use the advice offered to her.

"Fran, move away", - Medusa answered that calmly, - "Return to the Master and tell about what happened here."

"I beg your pardon, but I cannot allow such a th8ing." The girl's quiet voice was the answer for Medusa.

A second later, the pavement under Medusa's feet cracked and several dozen hands appeared from the ground. However, Medusa reacted instantly - and even before her mind realized what had happened - her knee crashed into the offending appendages after which she stepped back with a dexterous movement, grabbing Fran by her shoulders.

"Laudable dexterity." The voice of the Servant was not saddened, congratulating or mocking, but placid and unmoving.

Medusa glanced at the spot from where she had hit her opponent before frowning.

From the ground, as if rising to their feet, appeared… Playing cards?

Strange creatures, similar to mechanical golems, whose body has been replaced with playing cards embroidered with the suit of hearts. Two, three, four and five.

The bodies of the summoned creatures completely inorganically turned into human legs, shod in steel boots, and hands in steel gloves holding weapons - spears, to be more precise.

Medusa glanced at the speaker and smiled.

Medusa loved to read, so she could not help catching a familiar shape.

"Would you mind if I call you Alice?" Medusa smiled at the girl.

The girl froze for a second, looking at Medusa, before slowly lowering her gaze, - "This name... Belongs to that 'me' that is alone. That is not my name."

"Then, perhaps, you will tell me your name?" Medusa smiled at the girl, but inwardly she was tense.

The servant thought about it, before lowering her head and shaking it from side to side, - "No... Master told me not to do this, so... If you want - you can call me Alice."

"Okay," - Medusa smiled, then looked at Fran.

After absorbing the Grail, Medusa became stronger.

Much stronger.

Her powers had changed and until that moment Medusa had no chance to test them in battle - so she was afraid to attack now in full force, while Fran was in the range of her abilities.

"Alice, if you value the 'lonely you' so much - in memory of her, let Fran go", - Medusa smiled at Alice, causing her to get quiet.

"It's pointless.", After a few seconds of silence, after which Trump Soldiers took their position around Alice, she shook her head, - "But if it is pointless, then it means that letting her go anyway will not lead to problems… Very well then. She can leave."

"Thank you, Alice", - Medusa smiled, then put her hand on Fran's shoulder, - "Go."

Fran cast a worried glance back at Medusa, but she only smiled. "I'll be fine. Go."

Finally, uncertainly, Fran glanced at Medusa, then at Alice, and nodded briefly. "Um."

Then Fran rushed away, leaving Medusa and Alice opposite each other.

"Your eyes.", - Alice asked confusingly when Fran had walked away, - "I haven't read about them. They are not described in the books. What is it?"

Medusa, however, did not answer Alice's question, only shaking her head slightly from side to side.

"It's a pity that you won't answer me", - Alice, however, exhaled not at all in frustration, - "But your answer would be meaningless in the end."

"Soldiers, go.", - Alice gave the order, waving her hand, but Medusa only smiled. She already knew about all the abilities and characteristics of the summoned opponents - about all the abilities and parameters of Alice - and her real name - as well as the fact that she was one of the strongest Servants that Medusa had met.

Now all she had to do was to demonstrate that she had spent her time just on watching Ainz - and turn her knowledge into victory.

The information that his Servants had encountered the enemy forced Ainz to nod knowingly, and yet he chose not to dispatch the emergency response team the same second.

There was a certain possibility that the enemy was planning to deprive Ainz of all his Servants and lure them into a prepared trap and thus leaving Ainz vulnerable, as far they know anyway. So, as long as Ainz's Servants could cope without the help of the reserved Servants - Ainz did not plan to bring the reserve into play. Leaving them instead as possible defenders to protect the mansion, which at the moment served as a kind of headquarters for the Chaldean group. After all, it was not for nothing that these forces were the 'reserve'.

Ainz has enough stories about an army losing the battle because they committed the reserve too early and was baited into a trap that led to their destruction.

However, the appearance of two powerful Servants at once among the enemy was somewhat disturbing.

"Paracelsus..." Ainz frowned and shook his head. The creator of the philosopher's stone, ha... Tabula had read his works, and as usual she would blab about to Ainz. In fact, the strongest creature in Nazarick was inspired by Paracelsus' work, even in name only. And even in his world he… he really had an interesting history.

"Alice..." Ainz shook his head.

His mother had once read those books to him. Ainz couldn't say that they were his favorite books. But in his life, he didn't manage to read much anyway, so in a way, Ainz could say that these were one of the few books that Ainz remembered well.

Although, of course, what he remembered was the children's version, so it is unlikely that he can rely heavily on them regarding information about the Servant...

Ainz shook his head and frowned.

So, the enemy had made his move. However, the fact that only two - albeit strong - Servants were sent against Ainz, and without any support from the weaker, but very numerous forces of mechanical patrols, worried him.

It looked like a trap, but at the same time it could be a test encounter with Ainz's forces in order to determine his strength and his Servants identities and capabilities… In that case, even the loss of several Servants for the enemy was probably forgivable and acceptable and perhaps even expected. But in this case, it makes sense to attack with the weaker and expendable Servants. So if Paracelsus and Alice were the expendable ones… what kind of Servants would serve as the backbone of their army?

Ainz thought about it some more - before a voice distracted him - "Master, we have an intruder."

"Hmm?" Ainz looked up, then blinked and nodded, "So they still decided to attack us here now as well…"

After saying this, Ainz stood up, "Oda, Jalter, get ready for a possible battle", and then headed towards the front door.

If they were planning to attack Ainz right now, it means that they would probably choose their strongest Servants for the attack. And this, in turn, meant that Ainz might also have to intervene in the encounter with the enemy...

However, as soon as Ainz opened the front door, he instantly wondered if he had correctly assessed the situation.

The Servant who approached him walked as carelessly as possible, seemingly not planning to take any hostile actions at all - and as soon as he saw Ainz, he smiled so affably, as if to his old friend - and nodded in greeting.

"My dear friend, I must confess, I already thought that I would not have a chance to meet with you!" The voice of the speaker was both loud and solemn, as if the voice of a theater actor, overflowing with emotions, - "Oh, I want to thank our Lord that I succeeded to meet you in good health and at such a wonderful hour!"

Ainz frowned at the approaching Servant.

A man of medium height, whose hazel-colored hair was disheveled, clashing with his neatly trimmed short beard. The man was dressed in what Ainz could only call a green medieval camisole, over whose hand a brown cloak was slung carrying a small stack of books and moved so calmly, as if he were heading to a tea party, and not at all to a battle, completely without giving the impression of a dangerous enemy.

"Oh, please", Coming a little closer, the man smiled, looking at Ainz, - "My dear friend, could you take these books from me? I'm afraid I carried them for so long that my hands are no longer subject to me - but how sad it will be if I no longer have the opportunity to write a single immortal masterpiece?!"

Ainz blinked in confusion, after which he completely mechanically stretched his hands forward - immediately receiving, literally as a gift, a whole stack of books.

"Oh, I have walked for three days and three nights through an empty city filled with gray fog, hoping for this meeting!" Passing Ainz as if he had met him at least a hundred times and was at least his good friend, the man, Servant, moved along towards Ainz, into the house. "Can thou grant me a little rest - and maybe just a few drops of tea - or maybe whiskey?"

Ainz blinked once more, and then looked at the Servant, "Who are you?"

"Me?" - The Servant blinked, then widened his eyes, - "Oh no, really, neither my syllable, nor my face are now remembered among the people?! Oh horror, oh tragedy of tragedies!"

Ainz, not understanding how he was supposed to react to what was happening, put the books aside and then closed the door behind him.

Apparently, the battle with the enemy was to be postponed.

For a second, Ainz thought about calling the Servants with him - but in the end he decided to ask the more important question first, - "And so… your name?"

"Ah…" - The Servant sighed, then looked at Ainz carefully, - "As for my name, hmm... Do I really ask so much when I pray that the thought of a magnificent gentleman such as myself, whose speech is flawless, and whose appearance is perfect, did the name of William Shakespeare not come to mind first?!"

Ainz blinked and looked at Shakespeare. Shakespeare glanced at Ainz.

"So what about tea?" Shakespeare smiled as he looked Ainz in the eye.

Extract from the Secret Archives of the Clock Tower (Wizard Marshal Level and above) "Information about Charles-Henri Sanson, third part of the dossier":

"...The discovery of magical energy characteristic of dragons in the remains of Charles-Henri is still an unanswered question for the Mage's Association.

A careful analysis of Charles-Henri's lineage did not bring any significant results - no genealogical connection between possible links related to anything draconic ever present since the Sanson lineage was established.

However, the fact of the presence of a small, trace amount of dragon magical energy among the remains of Charles-Henri cannot be doubted. Especially strange is the fact that, according to research by the Department of Archeology, the trace is of Scandinavian origin - which absolutely does not fit into any information we know of about the lineage. To this day the source of the draconic remnants remains a subject of discussion and debate among dedicated scientists.

However, an even more disturbing fact is that, apparently, Charles-Henri during his lifetime interacted not only with the secret cults that reigned in France at that time (the Black Witch Sect namely), but, like many, was visited by the vision of 'Death' in his dreams. Moreover, many people associate the appearance of Death in Sanson's dreams with the beginning of his gradual mental degradation. Sanson's madness, in many respects, began with the 'dream' meticulously recorded by him, in which he tried to execute Death itself. Much later, he repeatedly noted that the dreams in which he faced Death continued - and grew even more detailed as his madness progressed. Such events quite possibly contributed to the growing madness of Sanson.

Moreover, there are several testimonial accounts, with several strong evidence supporting it, that the execution of Marie Antoinette, which Charles-Henri could refuse to execute, was also connected with his attempt to 'see how Death itself can be executed'.

Such information is possibly quite important to any prospective Master that works with the Chaldean Security Organization. It is quite possible that should Charles-Henri Sanson be summoned as a Servant, he will not be in the Assassin class, as might be expected - but in the Berserker class, possibly with the Innocent Monster skill. So to any Master that is not confident in handling a Berserker perhaps should stay clear from summoning Henri.

Still, the fact that this is so far the first recorded case in which the frequent phenomenon of 'Encountering Death' influenced a Servant so much as to influence their selves, changing the possible legend and class of the Servant, raises extreme concerns and indicates not only the importance of the phenomenon - but and its significant foreignness due to the creation of a paradoxical and unnatural change in the nature and legend of Charles-Henri... "