In that split second, a biting winter wind sliced down everyone's spines.
Mephistopheles caught their reactions and flashed a smug grin. "That's right—it's this color!"
With a dramatic flourish, he crushed the clay bird in his hand. From the yellow muck, a vibrant hue spilled out, seeping through the demon's fingers and dripping onto the floor, soaking into the cracks between the stone tiles.
It was a chilling, blood-red scarlet.
The room fell dead silent, everyone's faces grim. Everyone except Mephistopheles, who was still showboating, toying with the crimson clay like it was his personal masterpiece.
After a beat, Nero was the first to shake it off, leaning back in his chair with a lazy drawl that cut through the tension. "Y'know, demon, maybe your true calling's running a haunted house."
"Too bad those don't exist anymore," Ritsuka quipped, picking up the jab.
The lighthearted jab thawed the room's icy vibe in an instant. Hernan let out a sigh, eyeing the red liquid pooling on the floor with a complicated look. "If the second half of that clue really means 'sacrifice,' then what exactly needs to be sacrificed?"
"Two possibilities," came Da Vinci's voice, her hologram flickering into view. "Either breaking the cavern's seal requires some kind of sacrifice, or…"
Holmes picked up where she left off. "Or the Demon God Pillar is already inside the seal, trying to pull off some ritual through a sacrifice."
"Based on what we know, those are the only explanations that fit," Da Vinci said with a nod.
"My little hint was useful, wasn't it?" Mephistopheles smirked, flipping his palm. The oozing red clay vanished in a puff, along with the bloodstains on the floor—like the whole thing was just a twisted illusion.
"Nice parlor trick," Nero said, his tone dripping with sarcasm.
"Glad you approve," Mephistopheles shot back, his grin untouchable.
That wrapped up the riddle talk for now. The group waited for Georgios to return, then filled her in, letting her know they'd be heading north of the town tomorrow to scout. After that, it was time to rest.
Day five at the Singularity, and Ritsuka, as Master, led the crew out of town again. Since they were just tracking a Heroic Spirit, they didn't need a full squad. Georgios and Hernan stayed behind to hold down the fort.
The plague outbreak warning was too ominous to ignore, so Ritsuka left the two Servants best equipped to detect and stop it in town. On the flip side, if they ran into a Heroic Spirit as an enemy, neither Georgios nor Hernan could match Nero's raw power.
Georgios was your classic holy knight—great at banishing evil and protecting, with some basic healing tricks, but light on offense. Hernan was a weather mage, and without her warship, her frontline combat skills were pretty pathetic.
Nero, though? He could slug it out with anyone. One-on-one or against a mob, he had the tools to handle it, making him perfect for this intel-gathering phase.
Behind the town of Ratvenchi stretched a grazing pasture, linking to a river and untamed grasslands. Nero, Ritsuka, and Mephistopheles trekked across this wide-open plain, constantly adjusting their course with no landmarks to guide them.
On and on they walked… until Chaldea's sensors finally picked up a Heroic Spirit's signal. And with it came the thunder of galloping hooves.
"They're closing in fast!" Mash's voice crackled through. "Given the situation, it's likely a Rider-class Heroic Spirit!"
As she warned, every class has its quirks. Even the same Heroic Spirit can manifest differently depending on their class. Swordsmen get a baseline stat boost, Archers often pack absurdly powerful Noble Phantasms, and Riders? They usually roll up with their mounts, chariots, or ships in tow. Hernan, summoned at sea with her ship and cursed to run it aground, was a textbook "special case."
The hoofbeats grew louder, and Mash's voice piped up again, tinged with surprise. "Wait—there's another Heroic Spirit signature!"
"Get outta the way, now!"
In a flash, a bizarre white chariot roared past, dragged by a steed in gleaming armor, its coat impossible to make out. It tore by the trio and vanished into the distance.
"Hold up!"
Seconds later, the second Heroic Spirit appeared, hot on the chariot's trail. She was a shrine maiden, clutching a naginata nearly as tall as she was, riding a jet-black wooden horse and tearing across the grassland.
"Listen to me, Dragon of Echigo!" she shouted.
Ritsuka's eyes sharpened. "Nero, make her stop!"
"Easy."
No need to draw his Red Queen. Nero flicked his wrist, and Echidna's serpent-blade whipped out, weaving a razor-thin net in midair. It shredded the wooden puppet horse to splinters in an instant.
The shrine maiden went flying with a "whoosh!" and landed with a "thud!" in the grass. Miraculously, not a thread on her clothes was torn.
Ritsuka shot Nero a thumbs-up. After a second, Nero smirked and returned it.
"I can't believe this!"
The shrine maiden scrambled up, brushing grass off her clothes, her face burning with obvious anger as she faced the trio. "Who the hell ambushes a gorgeous maiden on her first meeting and makes her eat dirt like that?!"
"Chaldea's Master," Nero said without missing a beat.
"Chaldea's Master, indeed," Mephistopheles echoed, nodding.
"Sorry, but I couldn't think of another way to get you to stop and talk," Ritsuka said.
The shrine maiden's scowl softened just a fraction. She sized Ritsuka up, planting her freshly retrieved naginata in the ground and resting a hand on her hip. "Hmph. So you're Chaldea's Master, huh?"
"That's me. And you are…?"
"I'm Izumo no Okuni."
Izumo no Okuni, the famous beauty of Japan's Warring States period, said to be the founder of kabuki theater.
But Ritsuka's focus was on her apparent shrine maiden status. As a sacred figure tied to ancient rituals, she might know something about sacrifices or seals—exactly the kind of intel Ritsuka needed.
"I wanted to ask—"
Before Ritsuka could finish, Okuni cut her off, looking thoroughly ticked. "Hold up. Before that, how are you gonna make this right?"
"Make it right?" Ritsuka blinked.
If she meant the horse, that was clearly a mechanical construct—shouldn't be too hard to rebuild, right?
Okuni nodded, pointing in the direction the other Heroic Spirit had fled. "Because of you, I missed my chance to get the Dragon of Echigo's autograph!"
Nero stared at the chariot's fading tracks, a vein pulsing on his forehead.