Fate/Infinity

Needless to say, I didn't catch a wink of sleep all night—my unblinking eyes fixed on the piece of paper declaring my marriage to the Queen of the Clock Tower, all while a shiver ran up my spine and goosebumps prickled my skin.
It feels like a trap, yet even after scrutinizing the marriage contract a thousand times, I can't find anything wrong.
Hell, it even serves as a rock-solid prenuptial agreement for both of us.
Glancing at the clock, I grab my coffee mug and down it in one big gulp. Caffeine doesn't do much for me anymore, but the taste alone seems to send a surge of energy through my body… Energy isn't even the right word; it is more like a blend of clarity and focus.
"Come in!"
I invite, spinning around in my chair to face Ambrosius, whose expression suggests someone has recently forced him to drink a whole can of unsweetened lemon juice.
It's not hard to decipher the relationship between the Queen of the Clock Tower and Merlin's disgruntled descendant.
It's like Batman and Alfred, though in this case, more like Batwoman and Alfred.
"Sir Hangman?"
The butler asks, unable to conceal the bitterness in his voice and the anger reflected in every minute facial expression and motion he makes.
"It's alright, you can use whatever insult you wish. I can take it."
A rush of purple creeps up his neck, then slowly recedes as a clearly forced smile spreads across his face. "Since you're now officially connected to House Barthomeloi by marriage, Milady has requested that I assist you with registration. There's nothing much, you just need to sign a few forms and undergo an evaluation test."
"A what?" I respond, bewildered.
I thought I was done with school…
Apparently not.
"A test… It's standard procedure for newcomers. It assesses your education level and practical applications of your Magecraft." Ambrosius casts a side-eye in my direction, his voice trailing as he leads the way back to the main hall of the Department of Enforcement, a subdivision of the Department of Policies which Lorelei spearheads.
"Milady has stated she won't grant you any privileges beyond those already promised."
"Fair enough," I reply, anticipating as much. "If I may ask… Why the rush?"
"If you're asking about the reason for the hasty marriage, Milady's under immense pressure from both her political allies and enemies to have a child." It does make sense. Without an Heir, if Lorelei were to meet an untimely end, the Barthomeloi name would vanish in the long Annals of History.
"They didn't explicitly say it, but they've been pushing for her marriage for some time now."
"Even her enemies?"
That's the strangest thing I've heard today.
"The Democrats believe a younger Barthmeloi will be easier to control… Our allies, on the other hand, worry that the Aristocracy will fall without a Barthomeloi to act as deterrence."
In other words, the reason assassination attempts aren't a daily occurrence for Lorelei is because nobody wants to lose [Almighty] and the [Blueblood]. How sad…
"And she chose me, why?" Surely there are more suitable candidates?
"I reckon it's because of your gifts and your requirements. I haven't seen Milady show any interest in anyone romantically or… Sexually."
The butler says, shuddering as though the mere thought repulses him.
To be fair, if he thinks of himself as her father figure, I suppose it makes sense.
"Men and women alike. She does not wish to engage in courtship—dating as young folks call it nowadays, but rare are those who only want a professional relationship."
"It can't be that rare." Lorelei definitely has her own fan club, although from what I've observed, none of her subordinates see her in any sexual or romantic way. She's the Don; that's it. "I've met like four, five people who fit her criteria since my arrival."
"Milady doesn't want a lackey. Those are a dime a dozen."
My brows immediately tighten. "Why does it matter? The relationship's just a farce."
"For the same reason you didn't want an unattractive fiancée. Milady believes that to promote her lineage, as is her duty to her House, she needs someone with all three requirements: Potential;"
Understandable.
Although I trust her genetics can handle the heavy lifting, a Magus' ultimate goal is to search for the Root, and should they fail, enhance their Bloodline in the hope that a descendant will achieve what they couldn't.
"Appearance,"
"Didn't she call me average?" I roll my eyes.
"That's a better assessment than most have received, trust me… As I said, she's not very interested in people."
My lips twitch slightly.
"And lastly, guts."
"That's not even an inheritable trait…" I don't think I'm all that gutsy either.
"That's admittedly more her personal requirement. She doesn't wish to marry a coward."
"… Has she considered lowering her standards?" It's starting to seem like she wants an ideal rather than a spouse.
"Why would she? Milady's perfect. Why should she settle for less?"
"Are you indirectly complimenting me? 'Cause it sounds like you are."
Pausing halfway, Ambrosius glances at me and snorts. "You're… Acceptable."
Entering the elevator while other Enforcers just stare at us awkwardly, deterred by the tense expression Ambrosius wears, we continue with the conversation the moment the doors start to shut. "Any other questions regarding Milady?"
"Not really." I wasn't even trying to ask about her; my curiosity was directed towards the test. Still, any additional information about Lorelei is valuable.
Our marriage may be a sham, but that doesn't mean I have to act like an arse.
"But I do have questions about the exam… As you may have guessed, my education is pretty unconventional."
"You know the basics, correct?"
"Depends…"
I wouldn't have the slightest clue about Astronomy, Mineralogy,…etc.
Zoology's a bit of a hit-n'-miss since the Tohsaka Library did have a few books on the topic, but I wouldn't call myself an expert of any kind.
"If you wish, we can postpone the test and let you brush up on your facts in the library?"
"Is there a way to skip the exam entirely?" I think I speak for every student on the planet when I say: Fuck exam. The word alone gives me the heebie-jeebies. "You're not scared of a little test, are you?"
"Of course I'm scared." My fingers tap against my forearm as I purse my lips. "You're asking me to take an exam I haven't prepared for, one that could be crucial for my future. I'm scared AND annoyed."
"As I've mentioned—if you want to postpone, it's possible."
"Alternatively…" I drawl expectantly, staring at the butler.
"If you contribute to the Tower, you may skip a few Ranks."
"And what does the Tower consider a 'contribution?'" I ask, making air quotes with my hands. "And how significant does it have to be?"
"Discover a Law nobody has? Publish research on subjects that significantly improve our quality of life? Take your pick."
The elevator doors snap open, revealing the M(Minus)-1 Floor.
The reception hall is on Floor 0; this is the Department of General Fundamentals.
"It's also under Lord Trambelio's management," Ambrosius adds.
"Yikes…"
"Don't worry. I can't speak for every member of the Democracy, but Lord Trambelio is an honorable man… Even if his ideology directly contradicts ours, he'll not target a First-Gen, let alone one as special as you."
The butler reassures, then hooks his finger at me.
"What if I have recipes for Potions, never-seen-before herbs on hand, and complete research on their functions?"
Pivoting on his heel, Ambrosius narrows his eyes at me critically.
"... Would it not be better for you to reach 'Frame' first and then use those to rise to a better Rank?"
I blink, then joke lightheartedly, "You're making more sense than I am, and I don't like it."
Trailing behind him, I do my best to ignore the curious glances thrown my way. "I'm guessing the news has spread?"
"Milady's a high-profile target, after all."
"Is that him?" I catch a whisper.
"Holy shit, that stuck-up 'Ice Witch' got married? Poor guy... Her fanny must be as dry as a vaccum cleaner."
"Keep talking like that, and you're gonna go missing sooner or later."
Both Ambrosius and I turn towards the second voice—I out of curiosity for the man courageous enough to openly mock a Great Lord, and the butler with anger. If looks could kill, I'm sure the whole crowd would have been lasered down like a terrorist's fantasy.
Fortunately for the speaker, he's hiding behind a crowd of people, which's the only thing keeping Ambrosius from throttling him probably.
"The test consists of two phases—theoretical and practical,"
The butler explains, leading me into a backroom. "There's not much to say about the practical test. It's straightforward; just demonstrate three basic Spells of your choosing. The theoretical part is a bit tougher, but there are easier questions than most."
I watch as Ambrosius thrusts something into the receptionist's hands and instructs her stoically, "The usual."
Whirling between the two, I gasp. "Did you just—?"
Ambrosius puts a finger to his lips, shushes and questions with a 'confused', empty stare. "Did something happen, Sir Hangman?"
"No?" I snort in disbelief while being led deeper into the facility.
"Can you even do that?"
Are the Aristocracy and Democracy not at war? The Department's even under the direct control of Lord Trambelio as well…
"How many of these pampered Heirs and Heiresses do you think can pass the strict examinations? How many are actually well-versed in every single subject?"
Mouth closing and opening, I reach for my chin and muse.
[Whispering Wind: 'Not a lot~!']
The Perk whispers in my ear.
"So it's just a normal boarding school then…"
There are students who excel in biology, others in math and physics, and quite a few in literature. They might still pass if they dedicate time to studying every subject, but time is a luxury most Heirs cannot afford, not while their attention needs to be on their Family Craft.
"How many have actually passed this damn test?!"
"Most—"
"Without cheating." I interrupt.
"… In the last decade? Few. Very few."
"Let me guess, my… Wedded is one of them?"
"She scored perfectly in every subject. Her tests were even graded by Lord Trambelio himself. At the time, he too was merely a young tutor in this Department. How fast time passes."
While butler wallows in nostalgia, I'm ushered into a barest room I've seen to date; its steel walls marred by marks of Spells, I presume.
"Before we continue, this session will be recorded for future referrences. If you don't consent, speak now."
"I do."
Best not make too much troubles for my… Wife so soon into our marriage. 'Damn, that's a weird way to think about her.'
I better get used to it.
We can be as cold and distance as we want, but it's important to show an united front.
"Right, whenever you're ready."
For the practical test, I demonstrate the three Spells all Magi are expected to learn as early as possible: Reinforcement; Structrural Grasp and Alteration.
The theoretical portion follows, proving even more stressful, largely thanks to the incessant ticking of the damn clock, each tick seeming to pull my heart closer to my stomach.
"Theorize on how Voodoo Doll work?"
Clicking my pen, I jot down two simple words: 'Quantum Entanglement,' then move on to the next question, continuing to the next question: 'How'd slow the decaying of Magecraft?'
The last question has no fixed answer and requires a one-page essay. I spend the last few minutes bullshitting until the bell finally rings.
My answer can basically be summed up in a word—'Magitek.'
By tying Magecraft to Humanity and Alaya herself, Magi as a whole will be less reliant on Gaia for Mysteries, or so I think.
"Time's up. Hand in the test."
The moment I submit my paper, I'm tossed out like a piece of trash.
"Now what?"
"We return wait for the results." Ambrosius replies.
"How many points do I need to pass?"
"700 minimum."
That sounds like a lot…
"How's the score calculated?"
Led back to my room, I pace around, hands clasped behind me.
"Relax, you'll be fine."
"I'm trying to—" I jump, startled by the knocking, then heave a grateful sigh. "Finally."
Hastily, I race to the door and fling it open, revealing a mountain of muscles in a suit.
The Magus outside is a walking caricature. Light blonde hair, piercing blue eyes, and the physique of Arnold Schwarzenegger bursting out of a clearly inadequate suit, with a touch of Hulk Hogan thrown in for good measure.
He looks like he'd just been released from a maximum-security prison where he'd fought for his life daily and subsisted solely on protein powder.
'This guy has to be a Named character.'
That's the Isekai trope, isn't it? The protagonist and main supporting cast are either utterly bland or conspicuous to the point of hilarity. (And yes, that's a jab at Duel Monsters—the whole franchise, really.)
'Probably not a well-known character though.'
While his appearance is somewhat unique, it doesn't stand out as much as some, nor does it blend in enough to be anyone closely-tied to a storyline.
"Lord Trambelio…"
"Ambrosius, how have you been?" The Lord waves at the butler, a light smile that only deepens the wrinkles on his face pinning the corners of his mouth up.
"Wait, Trambelio?!"
Why the Hell are they so friendly?
Seeming to read my mind, the Great Lord responds. "We're old friends… I was trying to recruit Ambrosius when your betrothed stole him from my camp."
"They're married."
"Really?" Lord Trambelio hums. "Congrats! Hopefully with you around, that kid will be less of a sore."
"You guys are only enemies by obligations, aren't you?" Trambelio and Lorelei probably maintain a friendly rivalry, unbeknownst to their people, who're basically at each other's threat all the time.
"It's the deal I made with Lady Barthomeloi when she first went into office. While we fundamentally disagree, our common goal is to protect the World of Magi."
"So the back-and-forths are just public stunts, then?"
"Not exactly," He responds. "But we're not as hostile as the rumors would have you believe."
Shrugging, Trambelio's gaze sweeps across my room as he adds, "May I come in?"
After a moment of contemplation and no protest from Ambrosius, I silently back out of the way.
"Be my guest."
"You got 725 on the test… Not the highest score I've seen, but given the limited time you've spent learning Magecraft by your own confession, I suppose it is to be expected. Here's the results," Trambelio lays the piece of paper down. "Check if there's any mistake. I've tried my best to be impartial, but I was sleepy during. Your emblem and uniform will arrive later."
Settling into our seats, I break the ice. "I assume you have an offer for me?"
"Just one,"
The Great Lord replies, leaning forward. "Whatever Lady Barthomeloi offered you, I can double it. A First-Generational Magus with as many Sorcery Traits as you comes once in a blue moon, and I believe you can do a lot of goods championing for us."
My eyes nearly sparkle at the proposition, but after a few moments of serious contemplation, I decide to decline.
Lorelei and I are bound by marriage now; betraying her would make her a lifelong enemy. Additionally, it might tarnish Trambelio's view of me.
Who'd want to a betrayer in their close circle?
I, of course, choose not to spell this out.
Instead, opting for a simple. "My apologies, but I cannot."
He nods, seemingly impressed as he makes for the exit. "You're more loyal than most… I suppose that is commendable in its own right."
"Wait… That's it?"
"I see no reason to break up a pair of lovebirds, but I do have one question—two actually." Trambelio replies, stopping just short of the door.
"Ask away."
"How much resources will you need to start researching this… Magitek, and do you have a prototype?"
"Not yet, but if I do happen to create one, how will I contact you?"
Business is business.
Much like the way the Factions, despite being at war, still engage with each other economically, I'll treat Trambelio as yet another prospective client.
"My phone number's in the result. Call me when you have a product I may be interested in."
With that, the Great Lord departs, leaving Ambrosius and I to our lonesome.
"So, about the Potion recipes…"
Being in the Tower's exhausting.
"Right, you'll need to go to Floor M-7. That's where the Department of Botany is."