Anomaly Ch. 61 (Patreon)

Contrary to popular belief, Shirou didn’t actually know Lorelei all too much. That is to say, he knew of her hatred of Dead Apostles, her prowess in magecraft, and that she was the head of the Barthomeloi. Beyond that, the woman would often keep those she worked with at arm's length, and that was being generous.

That didn’t mean that he hadn’t picked up on quite a bit of her mannerisms. He had to, since he had basically served her as her personal butler for numerous occasions, and doing so had heightened his survival instincts more than some missions he had taken.

It was not even that she would actively harm him, either. Rather, he had done the one thing that many in the Clock Tower would envy him for: he had more or less figured out how to determine Lorelei’s mood.

To outsiders of the Mage’s Association, such a thing might’ve been seen as nothing more than commonplace. To those that knew the Barthomeloi, they would know it was a near impossible task. 

The entire Barthomeloi family generally considered themselves as Barthomeloi first, and individuals second. In that sense, determining the thoughts and processes that a single Barthomeloi has is akin to understanding the stance of the entire family.

Many would kill to have such an advantage.

For Lorelei Barthomeloi, this was exacerbated to ludicrous heights. Her position as Vice Director made it even more of a liability. If someone could figure out how she moved, they could practically have half the Clock Tower dancing in the palm of their hand.

Until she figured out who it was that dared to try and manipulate her, of course.

And she would, because a magus, or their family, would inevitably try to use her, if they knew how. The politics of the Clock Tower demanded that they use every advantage that they had.

Shirou was the exception in quite a few ways.

For one, he survived whatever the Queen threw them at. Normally, the Lord of Policies would send her personal battalion in the case that she actually needed assistance against an Ancestor. In some cases, however, the lack of individuality that the members of the Kron’s Battalion worked against them. While yes, the fifty member unit had enough firepower to wipe small countries, it was their lack of creativity that would hurt them the most.

And it was that lack of creativity that Lorelei Barthomeloi didn’t use them all the time.

Her hatred of Dead Apostles made it so that she wanted to be the one to kill them. She wanted to be the one to deal the final blow. Using her battalion would take that glory away from her hands. 

It was the kind of single minded hatred that would make her, on more than one occasion, delegate her responsibilities in the Clock Tower in order to hunt down a suspected Ancestor.

It was also the kind of hatred that had brought Shirou into her personal employ.

Certainly, the members of the Kron’s Battalion had people stronger than Shirou. If need be, any one of them could lead a department on their own - at least, before they abandoned their individuality. Yet, because of the nature of magi to focus on their specialities, they were very much combat focused and nothing more.

Shirou suffered from the same problem. Being hyper-focused on one branch of magecraft.

And yet, it was this same hyper-focus that led him to being far more adaptable than most magi.

He had seen the weapons that Gilgamesh had thrown at him through the Gate of Babylon. The weapons that Archer had used in his Unlimited Blade Works. He had personally experienced the stab of Rule Breaker. Weapons upon weapons that covered nearly every other scenario that could happen. Anti-Unit, Anti-Army, Anti-Fortress, Anti-Thaumaturgy, Anti-Barrier. 

Shirou specialized in being a jack of all trades. An oxymoron that caught the attention of the Queen herself.

And thus sealed his fate as one of the few Enforcers that the Lord of Policies favored, despite not being part of her battalion.

It was a position that many envied, and many pitied him for. It also became part of the reason why he and Rin drifted apart. He was just too busy under the Queen herself. Whether it was helping her with a particular Dead Apostle, doing missions in his capacity as an Enforcer against Sealing Designates, or even something as simple as being a butler that cooked her meals.

Yes, Shirou knew Lorelei Barthomeloi. In ways that maybe the woman herself failed to notice.

Which was why the Enforcer knew that, somehow, the Vice Director was distracted, in the first moment that they spoke to each other, face to face.

…

Always sure of herself. It was the one defining trait that Shirou could always count that Lorelei would always embody. Even Rin, as much as she would say otherwise, would have her doubts from time to time. The Barthomeloi was the opposite, in that she never second guessed.

There were instances that her plans didn’t go the way she planned, true. But even then, the surety that she held to herself as she dealt with those issues never faltered.

Now, though?

It was different.

Lorelei had personally come through to the Gate. Despite already having both Waver and Lady El-Melloi at Alnus, she had decided that she would join them. That in of itself wasn’t surprising - he had expected more Lords to come through once the news of the world beyond fully made its way back to the Clock Tower. In fact, the only surprising thing was that it wasn’t the Lord of Astromancy that came through after Waver.

No, what was shocking was that Lorelei was about to go back.

Under no circumstances did Shirou believe that she would just do that. Lady Barthomeloi valued time efficiency to the highest degree. There was just no reason that she would willingly waste her time in going to Italica, through the use of her own magecraft no less, just to tell him to go home. If that's what she wanted, then the radio would have been easy enough to use - which she already did.

The only thing that could make her move like that would be Dead Apostles, or something else close to one.

…

Shirou's joints ached. The cold sank deep into his cartilage, demanding a shiver he violently suppressed. He forced his jaw to unlock, speaking with measured precision.

"He sustains his existence through parasitic familiars. Crest Worms. They consume the host's life force and magical energy, replacing the rotting tissue. It mimics the blood-sucking and regenerative properties of a Dead Apostle."

Lorelei's silver gauntlet rested motionless at her side. A microscopic tightening of the skin around her orbital bones occurred. The howling wind died completely. Total silence fell over the courtyard, heavy and oppressive.  The pressure in Shirou's chest eased a fraction, but his pulse continued its frantic drumming against his carotid artery.

"A parasite mimicking the Ancestors." The words were clipped, carved from ice, "And you claim this filth is orchestrating the current military movement against this fortification?"

"Yes. The Imperial army marching on Italica." Shirou maintained eye contact, refusing to blink, "A woman named Tyuule interacted with Makiri. The probability is high that he employed the same parasitic manipulation on their leader, Zorzal. If they breach these walls, he gains access to thousands of fresh vessels. A breeding ground, in other words."

Lorelei remained silent. Her gaze flicked toward the distant horizon, assessing the unseen threat.

In the periphery, Countess Myui stood frozen, her breath pluming in the artificial winter. Tuka remained firmly planted behind Shirou, utilizing his broader frame as a windbreak.

"Very well."

The temperature spiked. Within a single second, the frost flashed into steam. A sudden, stifling humidity bathed the courtyard. The violent thermal shock rattled Shirou's teeth, sweat instantly beading on his forehead.

"You have purchased your reprieve, Emiya." the Queen stated, her tone flat, "I will evaluate this Imperial army. If I find this Makiri, I will incinerate him. If your intelligence proves false..."  

She left the threat unfinished. Her leather boots clicked against the stone as she turned her back to the bewildered demi-humans.

"Prepare your defenses." Lorelei commanded, addressing the space in front of her rather than the Countess directly, "I require a vantage point. Emiya. You will assist me."

…

"Clear the upper parapets," Shirou said, his voice cutting through the damp, heavy heat. "Move your forces to the inner plaza. Do it now." 

 Countess Myui didn't hesitate. The color had fled her cheeks, leaving her skin a stark, bloodless white. She snapped a sharp command to the scarred Pooka and the Warrior Bunnies, her fingers twitching against her skirts as she turned to sprint toward the lower barracks.  

Shirou had to grimace for a moment. While yes, he had communicated with them, the fact of the matter was the Italicans were now staring at Lorelei like she was a monster that would kill them all. There would be time to change that, eventually. For now though, he just had to make sure that the Queen wasn’t offended.

Thankfully, it seemed that she didn’t particularly care either way.

Lorelei didn't wait for the demi-humans to disperse. Her leather boots struck the stone steps leading to the northern wall with rhythmic, unyielding precision. The air within three inches of her uniform remained entirely unaffected by the swampy humidity, a localized pocket of high pressure that caused the damp air to warp visibly around her silhouette.

Shirou took his position two paces behind her right flank, the default spacing ingrained into his muscles from years of domestic and combat service. His joints, locked tight from the residual chill, loosened under the forced exertion of the climb. His lungs drew in the thick, ozone-heavy air.

They reached the summit of the wall, and without a moment's hesitation, Shirou Reinforced his eyes.

He wouldn't be shooting today, not when the Queen had determined that this was her prey to deal with. But that just meant he was going to be her spotter.

"I have a visual of the enemy." Shirou intoned, "The vanguard is approximately twenty-eight kilometers at thirty degrees East, behind the treeline."

The Imperials were already close. They had expected them to arrive tomorrow, all things considered, but if Zorzal had them on a forced march, then the timeline added up. Myui had said that they were likely going to set up camp just beyond the bridge. It would make the most sense, as it would be out of range of any siege weapons that Italica could have, if they had any, while also making any attempt at an ambush difficult to perform. The river was just too much of an obstacle and boon for both sides to not use it.

He wouldn't have been able to make the shot, not even with his bow. His range only went up to around a kilometer, on a direct hit. On non-direct bombardments, he could go up to eight kilometers, at best. And that's counting the radius of Noble Phantasms such as Caladbolg II. Sadly, he was still very much human, and the range of his Archer self still dwarfed his own.

The same could not be said with Lady Barthomeloi.

The Vice Director raised her right arm. Sunlight struck the silver gauntlet.

The barometric pressure plummeted. Shirou's eardrums popped. He swallowed hard, forcing his Eustachian tubes open. The air tore itself apart. A vacuum sphere formed above her upturned palm. It condensed, warping the light into a jagged, spherical halo.

"Twenty-eight kilometers." Lorelei's voice lacked breath. She vibrated the surrounding air molecules directly, "A trivial distance."

She snapped her fingers.

There was no explosion. There was a recoil.

A shockwave punched Shirou's sternum. His boots scraped against rough stone. He dug his heels in, dropping his center of gravity. A spear of hyper-compressed atmosphere launched over the plains. It carved a physical trench through the sky. A distortion contrail traced a strict thirty-degree eastward arc.

Shirou kept his gaze locked on the distant treeline.

Three seconds passed.

A dome of pulverized earth and splintered timber erupted into the stratosphere. The horizon swallowed the flash. Then the physical sound arrived. A low, visceral rumble vibrated up through the stone battlements. It bypassed Shirou's ears entirely, rattling his molars in his skull.

The expanding dust cloud swallowed the vanguard. A man-made storm front obliterated heavy cavalry, iron breastplates, and foot soldiers alike.

Lorelei lowered her arm. Not a single strand of her hair had shifted. Her localized high-pressure zone remained absolute.

"The vanguard is broken." She stated. Her boots turned away from the ledge, "We wait for the dust to settle. If this is all that Makiri has to offer, I will be sorely disappointed."

…

A/N: Also have a map of Italica (forgive my 5-year old paint drawing) (to be fair I never said I was good at art) (I might eventually use something else to make an actual good map, no promises tho)