After the twelve-hour flight, and a subsequent three-hour car ride to reach Fuyuki City, the Master/Servant pair arrived at their home from the time being. It was midday by the time they pulled up to the property Morgan said was waiting for them. Less in the sense that it was 'their' property, and more in the 'I mind broke the other guy to give it to us before I killed him' sense.

It was nestled in a sparsely trafficked, but quite affluent, part of the city's periphery from the looks of it. No graffiti as they drove by the various buildings. What few people were out and about walked about with heads held high. Children frolicked around a small playground. The property itself was larger than the homunculus thought it would be. A three-story tall home with large multi-colored windows like stained glass. A stone wall overgrown with ivy that ran along the house's grounds and obstructed outside view. Several lawn ornaments lined the colorful garden out front. A single cobblestone path led to the front door.

Honestly, this was not what she expected when Morgan told her of the magus owning a place in Japan. She had expected something more…extravagant. Over the top. Like a European looking castle in the middle of Japan level of extravagant; to be fair that does exist in this city….

But the homunculus never anticipated an above average looking home in high income neighborhood on the edges of the city. Then again, that might be the point.

Not to say that this place hadn't been locked down more tightly than Fort Nox when the pair stepped out of the cab. Morgan had informed the homunculus of no fewer than fifteen bounded fields interwoven just along the property's perimeter. She even went on to tell the young transmigrant of all the nasty curses and their effects in a tone someone would use to describe the weather. The rest of the magical stuff went over the homunculus's head for the most part, though Morgan seemed to dismiss it all as 'mediocre' at best.

The homunculus will take Morgan's word at that since she certainly didn't see anything out of place when the pair walked up to the door and entered the home.

However, say what she might about the exterior or her subverted expectations on locale, the inside did not lack for comfort. That Norbert guy who 'made' her appeared to lack the aversion to technology that was emblematic of his colleagues. A massive home entertained system dominated the living room with satellite TV, the home was heated and cooled by an advanced integrated ac unit, and, most important of all, the home actually had high speed internet!

That was the point when Master and Servant parted ways. After making sure the immediate rooms were safe to walk around in, the Servant was off to 'salvage' what she could of the bounded fields outside, though from her tone of voice it sounded like a fool's errand.

Meanwhile, the internet deprived homunculus raced up to her new bedroom to get the 'hit' that had been eluding her for days.

But as the young Master sat her happy little butt in the chair of her new 'Master Bedroom', she remembered that this was 1995's "high speed" internet. Maybe to these people 95kbp/s was fast; to the homunculus you might as well not spend the money in the first place. Especially since internet 'these' days was like cruise ship internet where you pay by the hour or purchase a set amount of minutes to use.

And that was all before enduring that damn diel up sound; the stuff of nightmares.

Sighing to herself, she sat for some time in front of the screen that struggled to load the single video she wanted to watch, soft knock on the door interrupted the newborn's laments and remined her of the other thing, beyond the bounded fields, this home had that DID make it a magus home.

Moments later, as the master rubbed her eyes, the door opened, and a small figure walked in. A girl in a maid outfit stood before the transmigrant, an albino with red eyes, white hair, pale skin. Had the Master not known any better, the homunculus would have assumed that this girl was the identical twin of whoever's body they ended up in. Of course, they did know. And that honestly made the whole situation worse.

"Forgive the interruption Master," a hauntingly similar voice quietly spoke up, dull red eyes stared blankly into her's "Your dinner is ready."

This 'girl' was a homunculus. By Morgan's estimation, she was probably the same 'model' as the newly minted Master was. This wasn't the only maid, a few others worked the home in tandem with one another. Each was an identical copy of the other; and by extension, her. Ignoring the more obvious implications raised by a grown man having several pubescent looking homunculi serving him, there was more to this whole situation that just felt wrong.

Simply put, looking at the maid felt like crossing the uncanny valley. Strange given that the transmigrant had felt nothing of the sort when looking in a mirror to gaze upon their new facial features. But when looking at these maids, there were just so many little things that made them seem off in a way that made her skin shiver. Maybe it was the way their faces moved, seemingly stuck between over exaggerated expressions that seemed alien on a human face or were completely devoid of emotion. Add in the off-putting eyes that seemed more akin to a doll's with how lifeless they looked, and the young Master just couldn't help but be put off by them.

Strange, given that she shared the same body as the three and not once felt like she was giving off this level of uncanniness.

"Forgive the interruption, Master, but your dinner is-"

"Yes, I heard the first time," the Master cut the maid off from repeating herself; the girl was like an automaton. "I'll be down in a minute."

"Very good, Master," monotoned with a deep bow, the maid left the room quietly shutting the door behind her.

The Master pinched the ridge of her nose and sighed. She will never get used to dealing with those maids at this rate.

Before she could force herself from the comfort of her chair, the connection to Morgan lit up.

"Master, do you have a moment?"

"Yeah. Is something wrong?" The homunculus questioned. After they had settled in, Morgan had decided to look over the house to see if that Norton guy left any 'surprises' for unwelcomed guests. They might have walked in the front door without many issues, but the rest of the property was another matter entirely.

"Oh, nothing of the sort," Morgan wavied off any concern. "Everything is about what I expected."

"And that is?"

"Mediocre and repetitive," Morgan declared. "For a brief moment, I had wondered if the substandard fields outside were just a ruse were just to lower any intruder's guard to not anticipate the true defenses within. Sadly, that was not the case; everything here is beyond pathetic."

"Isn't that a good thing for us?" The Master proposed. "Meaning we're probably not going to trip something by accident and have it blow up in our face."

"No, you're right this is a good thing," she sounded a little down.

"But…"

"But," picking up her master's unspoken question, "it genuinely pains me to see how far magecraft has fallen."

"What do you mean?" The homunculus knew exactly what Morgan was talking about. Following the end of the Age of Gods, magecraft and the phenomenon surrounding it has been on the steep decline. Spells have been losing their potency. Magical beasts have been disappearing. Mana as a whole is slowly fading from the world. Soon enough, Mysteries of all kinds will be gone. Such a state would be the like the end of the world to magi across the globe.

That being said, the homunculus was interested in what Morgan's opinion on the matter was; given who she was.

"I knew that magcraft would be on the decline," Morgan noted. "It was apparent in my lifetime that the Mysteries were fading. I knew what they said, I knew what they foretold, but I suppose it never really struck me until now."

"Wait, they?"

"Fairies," Morgan stated.

"Fairies?"

"Yes," she confirmed, "fairies, beings who now reside almost wholly in the Reverse Side of the World. They told me of this eventuality, but in my youth, and arrogance, I never took their words seriously. I never doubted their validity, merely the…urgency of their claims. But now, seeing and feeling the world as it is now, I see how much of a fool I was."

"I…don't know how to repond to that," the homunculus replied.

"Nothing to say about it I suppose, its merely something that is happening," Morgan chuclked over the connection. "It's funny, the magi of my era constantly whined and complained how mystery was on the verge of completely disappearing. They looked to the achievements of those of who came before and lamented how they were born into their current era; never to know the greatness and heights of their own craft. Yet from what I gathered from my…questioning of the people who facilitated my summoning, the magi of this era have a very similar viewpoint. Decline of magecraft, decline of mystery, and a wanderlust for the past."

That pause when talking about the people who were in the lab said wonders to what she did to them, the transmigrant mused.

"It does seem a bit repetitive."

"It's human nature, not repetition," Morgan corrected. "The more mankind's knowledge expands, the weaker Mystery shall become. Given the rate of human advancement, I suspect that in a thousand years Mystery shall be on the verge of disappearing entirely. As for Magic, even I can't say with clarity if it will weaken in a similar vein as Mystery over time or if it will simply endure until the world itself dies."

"That's…"depressing "…bleak".

"Indeed," Morgan agreed, "that is another reason why I desire the crown of Britain."

'Oh God, not this again,' the homunculus lamented to herself, taking pains to ensure Morgan didn't hear that little comment. Despite Morgan seeming like a good person, the Master still didn't like the fact that her claim to the throne was based on some magic mist rather than any support from the people she was going to govern. Even feudal lords had some bit of legitimacy, either from religious institutions or fellow members of the aristocracy affirming their rule, then simply saying 'the land choose me'.

"Given that Mystery held sway in Britain for longer than the rest of the world, it is only natural that I shall take measures to preserve it once I am crowned," Morgan explained.

"You seem confidant in victory," the Master trying to change the topic as she reached the dining room. A maid stood pulled a chair our for her to sit down. "Thank you."

The maid made no indication of hearing the thanks. The automaton pushed the Master's chair in, laid out her napkin, and returned to the kitchen to retrieve the meal.

"Confidence born of fact," Morgan replied. "And that fact is that I am one of the most powerful magi in human history. Add to that the potency of the mysteries at my disposal, and I assure you very few in recorded history can challenge my power."

'Except your sister,' again, the homunculus kept that comment to herself.

"Anyway, I won't bore you with the details," The Servant seemingly noticed how she'd lost the attention of her Master. "I'll leave you to enjoy your dinner. I merely wished to see how you were doing given the situation you're in."

'You don't know the half of it,' she mused as a plate of hot food was placed before her.

Wait a second…

"Are you watching me?"

"You? No. The other homunculi? yes," Morgan quipped. "I'm just by the window to the kitchen, looking at this piss poor rune on the ground, and noticed them scurrying about with a plate of food."

"Oh," was all she could say as a glass was placed to her side and filled with red wine.

"But don't worry, I won't bore you anymore with the particulars, just know the home is secure so far. But I do strongly advise you do not venture beyond your room and the kitchen for now. There is always the chance I didn't catch something; no matter how infinitesimal that chance might be."

"Thanks for the heads up."

No reply came from the Servant, seemingly turning her full attention to her work.

As she cut into the well-cooked meat before her, the homunculus's mind wandered back to the thought of Morgan's sister.

If this War went according to the 'script', which could have been thrown out entirely with the homunculus's own entry into this clusterfuck of a Grail War, this War was filled with powerful Servants that were no doubt capable of wiping the floor with them.

Hassan of the Hundred Faces, more an army than a single servant.

Diarmuid, a Lancer with two magical spears; one that ignores magical defenses and the other than inflicts a curse.

Iskandar, Alexander the Great, King of Conquerors; with his bullshit army summoning reality marble.

Lancelot, the mad knight who turns anything he touches into a magical weapon.

Gilgamesh, King of Heroes; the egotist with his broken Gates of Babylon.

And finally, Artoria Pendragon, King of Knights, wielder of Excalibur, and sister of Morgan Le Fay.

Ignoring all of that, the Servants, the Masters, anything that could potentially kill them before they reach the Grail, what use could be found from a cup that will turn any wish into a monkey's paw? If the homunculus made it that far, a big IF, the most logical thing to do would be to destroy the Grail. But after hearing her Servant almost gushing about what she'd do with it, the homunculus would probably need to use a command spell to force Morgan to destroy it.

But if even Excalibur can't destroy that thing, what hope did Morgan have?

Maybe a combined front? Have a few servants use their noble phantasms together? Gilgamesh would never destroy something he thinks he 'owns', and she was hesitant to assume Tohsaka would destroy the Grail either even knowing it was cursed. Hell, everyone might just assume she was lying to take the Grail for herself.

"The Grail is evil, trust me" probably won't fly; either because they don't believe her, or don't want to believe her.

What a predicament indeed.

--
--
--

'This should be sufficient for now,' Morgan smiled at her adhoc defenses of interlocking bounded fields of varying degrees of lethality.

The top layers of the defense were simple, and dare she say safe, merely causing a sense of disinterest in unprotected minds when they looked upon the house; precautions more than sufficient to discourage people from looking into the goings on inside no matter what they heard or saw. If they did persist, then the fields would induce a sense of unease in the individual. Nothing too drastic, just an 'eerie' sensation that would cause them to not stay longer than they needed to.

Naturally, any magus worth their craft can easily defend their minds from these fields.

Which is why she bundled the next layers together to induce a wonderful array of nightmarish and horrid things to occur to any unwanted guests. One influenced a person's nervous system, giving them sensation of being set on fire. Another caused any fluid to explosively evaporate, including those found in the human body. She even put down a field that would crush a person with the force of twenty times normal gravity if they tried to be sneaky and go around the back.

Overall, a perilous three meter long walk to the front door.

Still, there were fewer bounded fields than she would have liked, but that can be fixed over time. Once she has settled herself in, she could continue to layer the fields upon one another. The most important thing right now was to simply secure their base of operations for the War and seeing to her Master's immediate health needs; both of which were achievable with her Territory Creation skill. With a proper workshop, she could craft a mystic code capable of allowing her Master to use her circuits without killing herself prematurely in the process.

A medical apparatus of sorts, something small enough to be on her person and not encumber her movement. It would have to keep her circuits from unraveling themselves when channeling mana through them, while also regulating her body temperature to keep her from overheating while the circuits were active. Several ideas crept into her mind: a gemstone perhaps?

Actually, speaking of workshops.

"Master, I've finished the last of the bounded fields outside," Morgan informed her. "I'm going to head down to the workshop next. Since these locations tend to have traps and fail safes built into them this might be quite loud. So, unless you hear from me, know that I have everything under control."

"Okay, be careful."

"I will," Morgan replied.

The Servant hummed to herself as she phased through the wall back inside the house in her astral form and began her descent.

She had correctly deduced that the workshop would be situated on the lowest level of the home; the basement in this case. It's always towers or basements with them. Too dark, damp, or lonely locations for her liking. Why not a sunny greenhouse filled with flowers? You can do research and have pleasant scenery!

But no. It's towers and basements for magi. Some things will never change she supposed.

Not that she really had any right to complain, given her own accommodations later in life.

Going down, she phased into the workshop below.

After giving it a quick look over for defenses, she sighed with disbelief. The very center of a magi's home, the most closely guarded area in their world, and this is what she found: a dozen overlapping, and underpowered, bounded fields? She shook her head. It didn't matter now, she supposed.

It was more spacious than she though it would be. Instruments and phials were everywhere. Gems of all sizes and colors lined shelves alongside jars of ill colored liquid of unknown origin. Books and scrolls sat tidily on bookshelves. Meticulously cleaned but stunk of that musty smell of old paper. The most dominant thing in the room was an oversized clock and leaked energy from it with every tick of its arms.

Wanting to get to work quickly, she sent out a pulse of mana that destroyed the various bounded fields protecting this magus's inner sanctum. The effects were as immediate as they were varied. Several gems shattered. The grandfather clock stopped mid tick. Several old pieces of parchment that were left strewn about erupted into flames.

From the edge of her sight, a phantom figure lurched from behind a bookshelf. Made of misty shadow, the thing hunched over, its head looking in the direction of her astral form, and shrieked; like a banshee wailing in her ear.

'A familiar?' Tsking, she muttered a soft string of words and directed a pulse of energy at the shadowy form.

The creature was sent retching to the stone floor, flailing its immaterial limbs in pain. Its misty frame was being cut and gored by unseen forces; evirating its ethereal form with magecraft long lost to the world. With a last pained cry, the familiar lost its from and vanished in a puff of smoke.

And then there was silence. In mere seconds, she eradicated seemingly years' worth of labor and defenses with the same amount of effort she would expend to brush dust off her clothes.

"Did you hear that Master?" Morgan questioned over their connection.

"Hear what?"

"There was a familiar hidden underneath the bounded fields down here, let out quite the shriek when I arrived. You didn't hear it?"

"No, nothing."

"Well, that's good," Morgan noted, her ears still ringing with tinnitus from the pitch of the creature's cry. "I just wanted to inform you of the situation in case the shirk caused you any alarm. I'll get back to exploring the workshop."

"Okay then, be careful." Her master repeated her earlier words of caution.

"I always am Master," she replied.

Of course, she double checked to make sure all the really pesky fields and dead man switches were gone. Pride comes before the fall, and she refused to be duped by some third-rate magus who happened to have kept something hidden from her because she was overconfident. A couple of mana pulses later, it appeared that the workshop was indeed secure.

Satisfied, she full materialized and began her examination of the workshop proper. After creating a few floating balls of light to brighten the room up; this place was far too dark and stuff for her liking!
Morgan zig-zagged across the laboratory to see if anything in it was worth her time. So far, the Mysteries of the modern world had done nothing to impress her. She had hoped that the laboratory she was summoned into was merely the result of an incompetent collection of magi. True, she could simply have high standards; not everyone was as gifted as her. But even considering, and accounting for, the more 'mundane' limits of the common magus what she found was pitiful.

Like bounded fields whose bite was but a slap on the wrist when compared to the flesh rending pulses of fields past.

Again, it could just be her. But she's noticed in her and her Master's journey here that there was something missing in the air. She found that even the very air was less bountiful with mana. It was bland and dry when compared to the air of her youth.

And the implements here that she was examining? While they looked quite impressive to the common eye, she could tell that nothing in this room had any form of uniformity. This workshop was less the repository of a magus's work, and more like the works of dozens of magi that was made to physically looked uniform. It was the difference between a rough quilt with obvious stitching along every seem and a seamlessly woven length of silk.

In magi terms, it was something between stealing and copying. The workshops owner tried to put his own flair to everything, but it was obvious that he didn't create anything of his own in this room.

'Speaking of creating…' Morgan's eye looked for the things the man had told her before she killed him. Even enthralled to her, he boasted of how smart he was. How he thought everything through. How he was so much smarter than everyone else. It takes a special kind of vainglory for such ego to manifest in a trance state.

But she found what he had been babbling on about in short order.

Behind the portrait of the magus himself was a secure storeroom; one of several in the workshop she recalled. But this one was special. It held that man's greatest attempt to circumvent any danger from the Grail War.

In the poorly lit room laid dozens of clear glass coffins. Some arranged diagonally along the room's wall, but most stacked one atop the other like crates. Most of these coffins held identical figures suspended in pools of sickly dark fluids. For it was not enough for that would be master to merely have a homunculus to supply his Servant with mana; he needed his own army to fight the War for him. So, he bought these combat homunculi by the baker's dozen.

Unlike her Master, and the others of her 'line', who he created using the by stealing another magus family's designs as a template, Norton had simply bought these homunculi from some magus family in Romania. While both were homunculi, these ones were far less elegant.
These combat dedicated homunculi were all nearly two-meter-tall slabs of muscle and bone that were bereft of any form of body hair. Thick veins bulged and crisscrossed from their obscenely muscular frames. They had necks so thick even a fully ground adult would have trouble wringing their hands around them. Nails and teeth looked sharpened to almost razor edge. And where the phallus and genitals would be, a smooth patch of skin took its place.

Of course, those were merely the physical traits.

Morgan recalled all the 'improvements' these things had over regular people just beneath the skin that she heard about in the laboratory she was summoned in. Runes carved into their diamond hardened bones. Combat styles and technical knowledge implanted into their minds upon creation. Reduced pain feedback. The ribcage was replaced with a solid cocoon of bone that held all the creatures' important organs behind from the heart to the brain. An artificial organ regulates adrenal output to increase combat capabilities. Poison glands implanted in the mouth to allow these things to spit acid.

And those are only the changes she bothered to remember.

These things could simply not be compared to the other homunculi in the residence. Closer to golems than homunculi given all the changes. She didn't even have to look in the adjacent rooms to know they packed to the brim with mundane weaponry: firearms, explosives, and the like.
Going from all of this, it was easy to piece together what that wannabe Master's plan was: hunker down in this residence and use these things to aid her in taking out the opposing Servants and Masters one by one. All the while, enjoying the tender delights of the flesh with his little harem of homunculi.

A blunt, and short sighted, strategy.

He never even took into account that the enemy Servants and Masters might simply ally with one another to take him down due to this overwhelming appearance of force. Appearance, given that no matter how enhanced these creatures were, they would never be able to stand up to a proper Servant. Even she, the weakest physical class, could dispatch these creatures with little effort due to her nature as a Servant. Of course, they were more meant to fight the Masters themselves, but Morgan doubted any Servant would stray too far from their respective Masters if these things start showing up.

In short, they were inelegant tools of war. A morning star to the elegance of a spear.

Given enough time-

Her mind ground to a halt. Something was trespassing into her fields.

No.

Not trespassing, inside her field!

The sensation was akin to someone having simply 'appeared' within the boundaries of the field than intruding upon them. The fields Morgan was using might not be to the quality of the ones she used for her personal workshop in life, given the limited time she's has been here, but they were still beyond potent. True they don't have that same power that comes from being tapped directly into a leyline, but they were more than powerful enough to stop almost anything.

But to get so close before being noticed…

It was Assassin. No other servant boasted skills necessary to penetrate her defenses so easily. Even if adhoc in nature. While she was sure that the Grail War had not started yet, something in her just knew it had yet to begin, it was concerning that one servant was already upon them. No doubt to kill her master to eliminate Morgan from the conflict all together. The best way to stop a servant was to kill the master after all.

With the realization, something deep inside her flickered to life. Maternal instincts that she thought long dead since her children were murdered, and SHE let their killer walk free, flared within her. With a snarl, Morgan moved into her astral form to return to her Master's side.

Morgan reappeared beside her Master. The girl jolted in her seat at the dinner table with Caster's sudden appearance next to her; black mist infused with her mana pooling into the room.

"Mor-"

"There is an enemy Servant out there, Master," Morgan cut the girl off. With the room sufficiently saturated with her mist, acting as an impromptu barrier to protect the girl, Morgan readied herself to readied herself for battle.

Only for the intruder to vanish of their own accord. No doubt spooked by Morgan's blunt response to their provocation.

Looking beyond the window into the moderately lit street, she found no trace that anything was out of the ordinary; neither mundane nor magical. While it could be just a ruse, a faint to get her to lower her guard, Morgan was doubtful. The would-be Assassin has lost element of surprise, the most important aspect of the Assassin class. She refused to believe that any cutthroat worthy of being called forth by the Throne of Heroes would be so daft as to think she would ever consider lowering her guard simply because they retreated; even momentarily. Whoever they are must have realized their prey was out of reach for tonight and pulled back.

But that left Morgan with quite the issue to deal with. Assassin has taken an interest in them, and if they were willing to approach a Master/Servant pair prior to the War starting, who's to say they aren't Assassin's first targets? More accurately, her Master being their first target. Even ignoring all the defenses, she will be placing after this incident, all it would take is the slight flick of a wrist along some un-trafficked footpath and it would be done. With how wide the window was, the would-be assassin no doubt saw her Master at the table. Add in her distinctive, albino-like, features and there is little doubt in Morgan's mind that Assassin would have no issue picking her out of a crowd and surgically killing her-

'Wait,' Morgan's mind slowed as a realization dawned on her. Walking from the window and craning her head into the kitchen, she noticed that the other homunculi were at their stations. They continued with their labor like automatons, either unaware or uninterested at the commotion Morgan caused in the dining room moments ago. Their dull red eyes giving the Servant only the barest hint of acknowledgement before returning to their tasks.

'That's right, she's the same model as the other homunculi,' a plan began to form in Morgan's head.

"Morgan?"

'Could Assassin tell the difference though. Or better yet, would they still take the chance in spite of knowing-'

"Morgan!" Looking back, Caster saw the worried red eyes of her Master. "Who is out there?"

"Apologies, Master," Morgan replied to the girl. "I was just thinking about something. And to answer your question, as I said when I arrived, there was a Servant outside. Assassin most likely."

"Assassin," the girl's breathing hitched.

"Don't worry dear, the servant fled when I came to your side. Nothing to worry about for now," the Caster tried to calm the girl's fears. "With the element of surprise taken, I doubt they shall return this evening."

"Oh," her Master commented, looking out from the window. "Did the War start already?"

"Not to my knowledge, no," Morgan shook her head. "While I have no idea of when the War will start, being a Servant I will be aware when it has started."

"So, you'll know when it starts, but you don't know when it starts?"

"It's instinctual rather than foreknowledge," she elaborated. "Just as the Grail granted me knowledge of the modern world upon my materialization, or enough to keep me from gawking at everything like a child, it also provided me with a sense of knowing when the War has begun."

"Oh," the girl repeated, a scowl forming on her features. "So if the War hasn't started yet, that means Assassin was-"

"Preforming reconnaissance to strike the moment the War begins, yes I reached the very same conclusion." Morgan effortlessly lied about her actual deduction. No need to burden the girl with the knowledge of the proverbial, and in many ways literal, knife at her throat. And as always, once the words began to flow from her lips, the story became easier to weave. "Now that they know we know about them, I suspect Assassin will back off for a time before resuming their probing; now with greater care as to not trip the fields that alerted me in the first place. Once the War starts in earnest, I have no doubt to who our first foe shall be."

"If you say so," the girl seemed unconvinced by Morgan's logic. Taking one last look out the window, she returned to her seat at the table; her dinner plate still filled with her unfinished meal. The girl's mind obviously musing about something.

"Don't worry Master," Morgan continued to calm the girl who seemingly saw through Morgan's deceptions or had her own opinion on what was going on the Servant was not privy to. "I plan to work through the night to layer bundles of magical defenses across the property, both within and without. By dawn, I assure you that even Merlin himself would have difficulty entering this abode; to say nothing of the challenges faced by some skulking cutthroat."

"I'm not worried Morgan," her Master commented.

"But now that this incident is over, I must get back to my work," Morgan noted. "Given what happened, I need to work on something tonight. I'll see you in the morning Master. Remember, don't hesitate to tell me if you see anything out of the ordinary."

"Okay," her master replied, returning to her meal.

As her Master returned to her dinner, Morgan moved to enact her plan. Moving in her astral form and swiftly rematerializing in the workshop, she ignored the glass coffins she had been examining earlier in favor of materials to work with. Striding towards a clear table, she grabbed several gemstones of varying sizes laying around and examined their quality for what she had in mind.

Acceptable, she determined. At least for the task at hand.

Dropping them before her, Morgan began to channel mana into them at a steady rate. She needed to prepare these vessels for the intelligences she wished to imbue within them. Nothing so grand as what she planned for her Master, but smart enough to 'remember' everything that occurs to them and to place a curse upon an attacker who lands a fatale blow. Not to kill the attacker, these gems were of too poor quality to contain a curse capable of felling a Servant, but to track them.

Morgan was of the opinion that if you wanted to find a schemer, all you need to do was track their subordinates. Most serviles raced back to their lords with news of victory and success. And what was more successful than successfully eliminating an enemy Master?

Naturally, the 'Master' (bait) in question will be one of the servile homunculi on the property.

Even better, all Servants, baring Archers to her knowledge, must return to their Master's side regardless after a period of time. Even if Assassin realizes their mistake, killing a fake, at some point they will lead her to their Master. Once she knows who the Master is, it is simply a matter of catching them unawares; preferable when the Servant is away.

Then?

Then she will rip whatever magic circuits she can out of them for her own use; maybe use them as a short-term alternative to her Master's energies if they are potent enough. But this was secondary to her goal of flaying them alive and carving every blasphemous rune she knew into their flesh and bones. Their blood-soaked bodies, forever held in a state between life and death, will serve as the wonderful warning to the other participants of the dangers of crossing her.

'Yes,' Morgan noted as the gems reacted positively to her mana. 'Everything's coming along nicely.'

 

---

Master

Servant