Raison D'être

The next days were even busier than before for Chaldea and Bon Gateau. They must have had the entire district visiting them throughout the day by this point.

It was becoming difficult for Guillemot to properly keep tabs on everything, even with a couple volunteers from the populace. The important thing was, however, that morale was high. Probably for the first time for a lot of these people, the situation was bright like the daylight.

Ever since that one evening, Vega had discussed plans to conduct summoning rituals from within the Malgenesis. A few factors had been identified to help promote the success of the procedure, however. For one, they needed to find out the locations of leylines in the city. Vega had a map they could follow, but matching it to the actual geography was taking time. Especially since some of her data seemed incomplete or just outright incorrect.

Secondly, the ritual must be conducted when one's mana is at its peak. This knowledge was gleaned from background knowledge Ritsuka had acquired over the years as a fledgeling magus. They'd need to perform it in the early hours of morning, where Ritsuka and Vega's mana could synchronize optimally with that of the leyline. This was dangerous since the Capitol had a curfew during the nighttimes so they would be easy to discover if they didn't play their cards right.

Thirdly... there was always the chance that the ritual just wouldn't work due to bad connection. Regardless of how much mana Ritsuka, Vega or the leylines possessed, it was still a catalyst for the main component of the ritual that resided within Cadens Weft. If any sort of factor were to disrupt the connection with the base, success rate was sure to plummet.

At this point, however, Ritsuka was raring to try anything. Not that he hated his time working at the patisserie. In fact, he was enjoying each and every day with Blavet and the others. But... Chaldea back at home was waiting for him. He knew that it couldn't last forever.

Today, however, there had been progress. Vega had managed to track down a leyline within Montmartre. They needed only to set up a nighttime expedition to go and prepare the ritual. The news of this was enough to put everyone in a relatively good mood. Even Blavet and Pecloz, who didn't really understand the nature of the mission, were happy enough with hopes of Chaldea's success.

Thus, Marco had taken it upon himself to provide something more for the people of this district. The masses of this Capitol lacked wild imaginations. He vowed he would bring them under his spell of storytelling, to open their minds to the possibilities of dreams beyond the border of their reality.

He stood in the center of a crowd outside the front of the patisserie. Even Blavet had ceased working to hear his tale, for she enjoyed them a great deal every night before sleeping.

After clearing his throat, he began to tell his tale: "Allow me to tell you all of countries that were waylaid with cold and dark that were regarded as natural for its denizens. For what they lacked in sophistication, they made up for in warm passion and vigour. Yes, I speak of the region we know as the Land of Darkness..."

An ominous name for a land that seemed far from the reach of intimate comforts. Its people and culture seemed savage and undisputed.

A lawless world without an authority, where the strong raided the weak as a means of survival. They called it the Land of Darkness for the sun was invisible durings times that others would call day. Living through days where one may be said to see and not to see.

Strong were the people, in will and stature. Such was forged in the cold forests and mountains they hailed as home, clad nigh permanently in a blanket of white snow.

Snow, crystals of cold beauty that cascade from the skies. There was not a sight more purely beautiful in the world than a landscape dressed in snow.

In the summer months, when the sun did grace the lands with its sheen, animals of all sorts emerged to meet it.

Their furs would be claimed by the denizens, for trade with other nations. Such furs were unlike any seen anywhere else.

Furs of quaint yet nimble creatures such as the vair, the ermine and the arcolino. The finest of coats that were fit only for royalty.

Yet in the Land of Darkness, anyone and everyone wore them as part of everyday life for no royalty existed there.

This Land of Darkness held many mysteries, but within that void there is a land of freedom.

The freedom it represents is truly one of the finest gems that can only be truly appreciated in the veil of darkness it brings with it.

"... Of course, whenever summer came around, the children rejoiced because they could actually step out their beds again!" There was a wave of laughs and chuckles from the crowd as Marco presented his story to the fullest of his capability.

Even Guillemot had paused at one point to listen intently. Marco Polo's renown as a storytelling explorer was proven to great effect. Many in attendance were completely enraptured by his tale, having never heard of snow nor animals of such descriptions.

Ritsuka was absorbed in the story. He never did embark into a Singularity that was laiden with frost or snow, yet... for some reason, there was a lingering familiarity in the back of his mind to such a setting. Overall, the story made him think of many things. The Land of Darkness reminded him of the Land of Shadows, the place where the warrior woman Scathach resided. When he went on about the freedom of the land, the memories of free spirits such as Spartacus and Xuanzang Sanzang emerged in his mind.

Yet, something bothered Ritsuka above all else. In all his tales, there was little to no mention of the person that Marco zealously idolized. Kublai Khan was not mentioned even once.

By now, Marco had deviated a little from the actual storytelling and was more telling jokes and whimsical anecdotes.

"One time... I dared to try and capture a vair with my bare hands. I failed utterly, for... I was not using my vair hands!"

"Aight, aight. Pipe down for now." Guillemot hushed Marco up a bit as he waved his hand around, much to the latter's chagrin. He ended up herding him away from the crowd for a bit to speak to him privately. "Oi, it's cool making everyone merry and all... but remember we're still trying to hide here."

"We're bringing good things to these people, don't sour the atmosphere. Besides... we've been causing a ruckus for a while, haven't we? If it hasn't perked the interest of the guards yet then they probably don't care at all. We should enjoy our time here to the fullest."

Guillemot couldn't really argue against that, but he still felt uneasy about it. Regardless, he ended up retreating into the patisserie as Marco resumed his storytelling. In there, however, he happened upon Blavet. "Oh, 'sup. Figured you'd be taken by the blabbermouth out there."

A little surprised, Blavet turned away from the counter she was at to address Guillemot while hiding something behind her back. She really didn't make it hard to spot as her gaze averted about the room. "A-ah, yeah... well... there's work to be done, y'know! I could hear bits of it from in here anyway, he has a voice that travels far."

"Sure. Whatcha hiding there anyway?" Not one to really play around, Guillemot approached the lady who recoiled a little.

"N-Nothing! I was just... trying to make... something."

"For Ritsuka, right? Lemme see."

"N-no! I-it's for another friend..."

"Ya have no other friends. Lemme see." The probing was succeeding as Guillemot came closer, until he was putting his hand sternly on the counter next to Blavet. Defeatedly, she turned over a letter to him. He flipped it open to give it a gander, before he scoffed.

"H-hey! I worked hard on this," she barked in protest.

"Can barely read it. You dunno how to write after all." He turned it to her, revealing the garbled mess of letters she had written out. It was barely discernible as a language, let alone as a message. She blushed in embarrassment, feeling exposed. "... If ya really want to thank them, ya could just say it to their faces."

"You know I can't do that so easily..."

"So learning how to write was easier?" He set the letter down before her as he leaned against an adjacent wall. He looked out the front windows, at the crowd who were now silently listening to another story. "Listen, just ask me for help. I always said that's what you should do, because ya can't do everything."

Blavet also stared out, a wistful expression on her face before she looked down at herself. "I wish I could... like, be watchful like you. Or kind like Ritsuka. Or entertaining like Marco. Or refined like Vega..." Her hands came to her head, as she clutched at her hair a bit.

Inferiority complex had settled in. All she could do was bake. She didn't know how to read or write. She even had taken on the responsibility for taking care of Pecloz, something she had no qualification to do. And she didn't dare even think about opposing the regime, like her tenants did so openly.

When she really thought about it... they were so alien to her. The way they carried themselves, the way they told their tales and the way they motivated themselves. None of that logic applied to her, even in this world.

She just didn't understand. But then, a hand patted her shoulder. She looked to meet eyes with Guillemot. "Ya about to blow a fuse thinking so hard, I can see it in your brow. Don't worry so much. I think those guys are just weird. But... it's not a bad kinda weird. Focus on what you can do the best."

A long sigh escaped her lips as she settled down. "Yeah... yeah. I prefer this side of you, honestly. It beats the grump."

"Don't get used to it." With a chuckle, Guillemot finally left Blavet to her own devices. She picked up and peered at the letter again, looking over it while thinking of the others... Ritsuka and Marco especially. She wanted to thank them, from the bottom of her heart... for bringing things into her life that she could never have conceived before.

===

As evening approached, the crowd settled down and was eventually dispersed due to the patisserie closing down. A group of young men were the last ones to be shooed away as they made their ways back to the hostel they called home.

"Man... life got so much more interesting when they showed up" said a short man, arms crossed behind his head.

"The cakes are great too," remarked a more portly man, before he resumed eating an iced bun.

"That Land of Darkness sounded cool... I wanna go there, and I wanna hunt!" The short man pretended to wield a crossbow in his arms, turning to his friends and pretending to fire at them. They all laughed merrily...

But they all then stopped, save for the short man who only did so after noticing the others.

"Guys...?"

It was then that he noticed a shadow looming over him. He turned slowly to see one of the Gendarmarie guards, towering over him in imposing fashion. "Your conduct is unsightly, filth. You are in violation of multiple royal laws, such as possession of an illegal item."

Terrified, the group huddled together out of instinct as the guard closed in. Two more guards emerged from alleys and surrounded them. The crossbow was immediately confiscated and trampled upon.

"W-we'll better ourselves, please! Let us go, we've done nothing else wrong We'll work twice as hard! No, thrice to make up for this!" The short man was already in tears, as were his fellows as they pleaded for their lives.

The guard crouched down to one knee, mockingly coming down to his level as he spoke in a sinister tone. "Oh, you won't. The Royal Prison awaits you. However... you might yet spare yourselves if you can aid the Gendarmarie in an investigation."

Immediately, the men looked at each other and suddenly seemed eager to be supporters of the Capitol. The guard chuckled a little before he pointed at them. "Tell us about this 'Land of Shadows' that others speak of, and the one who told such tales."

===

It was not long after this that a messenger guard was sent marching through the streets of upper Montmartre. Clearing his way through other guards and commoners, he eventually arrived at the Gendarmarie barracks. It was more like a small fortress that was integrated as part of the walls that partitioned all the districts. Large double doors were cranked open as he marched his way inwards, heading straight for the main office at the top floor.

Once there, he knocked on the door. "Lord Isengrimmus, I have important information on the menace known as Chaldea."

"ENTER!" A booming, howling voice from within responded immediately. The messenger entered through the doors and gave a salute. The office itself was moderate in size but lavished with finery. Crystalline ornaments lined the walls and ceiling, with furniture of marble-like material dotted about. A large crystal mirror sat on the wall, and at the center of the room was a redwood desk at which the Gendarmarie official sat. The formal gesture of the messenger was met with a snarl as Isengrimmus dug his claw into the desk in impatience. "Tell me everything."

"At once. Chaldea presence has been observed by eyewitnesses in the lower parts of Montmartre, closest to the slums." He went on to give physical descriptions of Ritsuka and Marco Polo, based on accounts from interrogated citizens.

Isengrimmus' gnarled maw twisted into a grin as he leaned back in his seat. "I see. It's like they don't even try to hide. They are not tricksters, but they are fools. We shall ensnare them in a trap, and kill off any dissendents that aligned themselves to their whims. No, we kill any who even heard their tales. Carve it into the populace as a permanent example, we cannot have hope in this district."

"As you wi-" Right as the messenger tried to respond, however, the crystal mirror on the wall suddenly flashed white. Isengrimmus shielded his eyes for a second, before looking to the mirror. He could see the messenger immediately dropping to a knee in devotion.

The figure of a buxom woman dressed in the most elaborate dress of jet and crimson appeared in the mirror. She hid half of her face with a gem-encrusted fan of platinum, her piercing golden eyes just about visible from beneath a garish tower of a hat. The upper half of her face was accordingly veiled by a magnificent masquerade mask lined with gems and vivid feathers. She was seemingly perched on a throne of sorts, in a way that made sure to present herself in the most outstanding way possible.

The Madame Deficit had appeared before the wolf. "Ah ah~... I heard you were being boring again, big bad Isengrimmus. Your lacklustre demeanour cannot escape my trained eye."

"Madame... to what do I owe this... pleasure?" The wolfman was still, showing neither devotion or rebellious intent.

She snapped her fan shut, revealing a pout on her face as she poised her finger against her lower lip in sultry fashion. "You're lucky I like big bad doggies... otherwise I'd have you made into soup in the Kitchen. So... is it true? Chaldea have been found infesting your district? Like the rats they are?"

"Affirmative. And I am on my way to deal with it, so if you'll excuse m-"

Suddenly, he felt a pressure upon his spine. A coldness that shot through his nerves, freezing up his arms and legs as he stared dead at the Madame.

Her hand reached out to him, fully open as she giggled in sadistic manner. "Do not excuse yourself in my presence. My crystals might just erupt, otherwise. Heel, boy."

Isengrimmus didn't dare move, as he settled down and surrendered himself to the Madame's whims. "Listen, dear Isengrimmus... I want to have fun, I want you to have fun. And you know what's fun? A little bit of calamity." She started fanning herself, a vile smirk crossing across her lips while her other hand fiddled with her long silver hair. "As punishment for your insolence in my presence... Montmartre will be made into the playground. Consider yourself most fortunate with only this as an outcome."

When she said playground, the wolfman gulped. That could only mean...

"Use Pantagruel. That is a royal decree and your sentence. Rebuild however you like from the waste left behind, and then... let them eat all the cake they desire." With that, she slowly blew a kiss to the wolf. "I'm sure you will have a merry old time. Farewell, Isengrimmus."

The mirror's light died down and the visage of the Madame faded away. The wolf gasped for air, having held his breath until this point. Every time he was in her presence, even remotely, his survival instincts flared like no tomorrow. He glared at the guard who had stood up, awaiting further orders.

"... Prepare the Gendarmarie forces in the area for the arrival of Pantagruel."

The guard nodded and saluted before marching away. The wolf slumped in his seat once the doors were closed, hand upon his forehead as he howled in despair.

"Pantagruel... why Pantagruel... oh why... my lovely corner of paradise... hear me as I curse you, Madame... hear me as I curse you, Chaldea!"

His howls of grief turned into ones of rage swiftly, as echoes of furniture shattering and breaking resounded from his office into the evening air.

===

Later that evening, once Montmartre had finally turned in for slumber after an eventful day, Chaldea made preparations to embark on its task. Blavet and Pecloz had gone to bed hours ago, leaving the rest of Chaldea to exit the patisserie silently just shy of midnight.

"Aight... got everything for this ritual ya doing or whatever?" Guillemot didn't really understand the nature of the ritual, yet he somehow felt obliged to help them see it through. His swordsman's intuition aligned itself with helping Chaldea.

Vega's eyes flashed blue as data processed through her mind. She nodded. "Mana reserves are sufficient. It is advised to be fully prepared for commencing the ritual once destination has been reached."

Carrying a satchel of pastries from the patisserie, as well as other supplies, Marco fist-pumped as he gazed to the others. "A worthwhile venture this is... scampering into the night, to conduct the ritual of heroes! To call upon noble allies to our cause!" He whipped out his notebook again and started scribbling into it.

As for Ritsuka, he took a deep breath and slapped his cheeks a little. There was some tiredness due to lack of sleep and a long workday, but he'd been through worse sleeping habits before. This was going to be a big step towards saving his friends, he needed to be on his A-game.

Thus, the group set out into the night. Sneaking through alleys, they eventually climbed up to the rooftops of buildings and began to slowly but surely make their way to their destination. Vega's scans had managed to scour traces of leylines in a courtyard that was roughly a mile away.

Before not too long, they were dropping into an alley adjacent to the courtyard in question. Guillemot halted them all as he checked around the area. "Open enough area for ya? Marksmen can pick us off if they spot us... we gotta do this fast. That said..." He scratched his head. "I didn't see nor hear any guards on the way here..."

"Perhaps Lady Luck has graced us with her blessing, then! Nay, dare I say, the Khan is wishing us the very best!" cheered Marco, his optimism seeing this as a win-win.

The swordsman didn't really like the doubt that was lurking in his mind, but they had to take whatever they were given. He gestured for them and they moved out together towards the center of the courtyard.

Once there, Vega immediately started to work as she created a summoning circle on the ground. Marco and Guillemot stood on sentry duty as Vega next instructed Ritsuka to stand with her in the center.

The two huddled up back to back, before Vega firmly locked hands with Ritsuka which illicited a blush from him. "U-uh... is this really necessary, Vega?"

"Proper synchronization must be assured. This setup was deemed to be of optimal efficiency for our objective."

"I-I see..." He couldn't argue with that logic, as they both closed their eyes and started to recite an incantation in unison...

Let silver and steel be the essence.

Let stone and the archduke of contracts be the foundation.

Let the history of man become my cause and my oath.

Let rise a wall against the wind that shall fall. Let the four cardinal gates close. Let the three-forked road from the crown reaching unto the Kingdom rotate.

Let it be filled. Again. Again. Again. Again.

Let it be declared now; your flesh shall serve under me, and my fate shall be with your sword.

Heed the pleas of humanity.

Answer, if you would commit to this cause and this truth.

An oath shall be sworn here.

I shall attain all virtues of all of Heaven;

I shall have dominion over all evils of all of Hell.

From the Seventh Heaven, attended to by three great words of power,

Come forth from the ring of restraint, savior of the universal will!

Both their eyes flashed open, as blue-white energy sparked and rose up from the circle around them. Soon enough, the energy gathered and formed a pillar as it engulfed the two of them and reached towards the heavens above.

Guillemot flinched, staring up at the beam as it fired forth. "Oi oi oi! That's just a big ol' 'here we are!' for them, ya idiots!"

"But it IS rather stunning, wouldn't you say?!" Marco was staring in awe, as he scribbled more notes down in excitement.

Soon, the light faded completely. Ritsuka and Vega stood there, hands still conjoined. The former looked about once the circle's glow had dissipated, in anticipation of what may have happened...

Yet as the four of them scoured the area with their eyes, there was nothing new.

Vega released Ritsuka's hands and stepped forward. "Odds of summoning ritual success were 63.7%, with variable factors accounted for. Despite efforts for optimization, ritual result has failed. Connection to Cadens Weft array was not established correctly." She turned to the others, expressionless as ever. "We may make a single further attempt."

"Ya sure about that?! Guards are probably gonna come sprinting after seeing that! We gotta bolt." Guillemot was erring on the side of caution here, which Ritsuka could understand. The Gendarmarie could descend on them at any second now with that whole display.

Marco, however, crossed his arms. "Then what would be the point of coming out and risking the odds like this? We need to see this through! Besides... Vega can be bait if they get too close!" He had a lot of faith in her, clearly.

As Ritsuka mulled over the options, however...

...rrrrrrRRRRRRUMBLLLLEEEEE!

The ground and buildings around them started to shudder. Lights in windows nearby started to flicker on due to the disturbance. Guillemot looked around in a mild panic, bracing himself. "Oi oi! What did ya idiots do?!"

"I assure you this is hopefully unrelated to our business! Vega please tell me this is unrelated!" Marco's vocal pitch was rising as his own anxiety peaked.

The four of them huddled together, looking at their surroundings before Vega looked off towards the East. The direction of the tower. "... Massive mana signature detected. Emerging from the canal on the border of Montmartre."

The description sunk the hearts of a few of them, as their gazes slowly shifted in the direction that she was looking in...

There were no words for what they saw on the horizon, above the rooftops of the buildings. Marco trembled. "N-nay... this isn't the Khan's best wishes at all!"

Silhouetted against the radiance of the tower, a hulking form continued to rise. Higher, higher, until the view of the tower became completely obscured by its mass.

The rumbling intensified, as a thunderous roar bellowed out-

HRRRRRRROOOOOOOAAAAAR!!!!