Chapter 74 — Grimoires For Days! (Paid-Patrons)

Using [Air Platform] to propel us both toward England, I soar over the small town below with Alexios in hand.

True to the saying ‘Don’t shit where you sleep,’ Serios had spared the residents of Laoshu from a most unfortunate fate, who fortunately were all asleep in their homes at this hour—except for one, apparently.

“GHOST! A ghost’s kidnapping people! HELP—!!!” A glance at the bottle in his hand, the flushed redness of his face, the deep lines likely etched by extreme liver damage, and his ragged clothing struggling to fend off the night's chill, and I immediately realize he won’t be an issue.

After all, who would believe the town’s resident drunk? Every town has someone like that, whose words are instantly dismissed as the ramblings of a madman. In any case, this Is a matter for the Summit Court. I’ve done my part; it’s their responsibility to take care of the rest. It's only fair. “There’s a ghost!!!” 

Terrified, he drops the bottle and runs in the opposite direction.

How typical… If I were a ghost, wouldn’t it make more sense for him to stay silent and slip away quietly?

Aiming straight, my throat tightens as a gust causes the hair on my nape to jump.

“COME BACK!” Her voice booms—deeper than the deepest the Mariana Trench and rougher than sandpaper against one’s bare ass—as the Daoist leaps onto the cloud in a single bounce. “YOU DON’T HAVE TO PAY FOR MY BAOBEI! JUST THE BRIDE PRICE! YOU CAN EVEN KEEP THE ARTIFACT!!!”

First of all, who would pay a bride price for that?

She has the physique of a Chaos Space Marine, the common sense of a five-year-old, and is clearly mentally challenged.

Honestly, if anything, I should be the one gettingg paid! Not that it’d ever happen.

I have standards too!

And secondly, as if I was ever going to give the Emerald Heart Cauldron back.

Finders-keepers—once it’s in my pocket, it’s mine.

They were just leaving it to gather dust anyway! Without the Athanasiou and I, the Baobei would have been left to rust for who knows how many more years!

“I don’t need your crusty ass, leave me alone!” 

“WAIT!!! This is a test, isn’t it?!” 

What? Is she crazy? What test?

“Gimme your name at least! I’ll find you, husband!” Suppressing a shudder, I unleash all the kinetic energy from the soles of my shoes to propel myself forward at greater speed and quietly vanish like the alcoholic should have. I’m… 60% sure this won’t come back to bite me in the ass.

She doesn’t know my name or ethnicity, and while 

Being a Magus with European features might narrow down the search, but I can just hide and deny any accusations.

As a member of the Association—a pretty high-ranking one too with my betrothal to Lorelei, I’m protected against any sort of Truth Potions until solid evidence of wrongdoing is gathered in the name of ‘Organizational Interest’—and I mean concrete evidence, not just insights from Mystic Eyes or Codes that can peer into past events.

As for my mind, while it can be influenced, any attempt to invade it will be met with a black curtain.

Xianxia tends to portray Cultivators as unreasonably persistent, but there’s no way her Master, whoever they are, would go to such extremes for a few minor injuries, right?

“I’ll find you!!! Well, technically Master will, but—!” 

‘Make that 40.’

I made a beeline for the London Harbor in less than three hours, bouncing my way back in with no break in case the Daoists decided it was worth the trouble pursuing us.

Afterward, I rented a room in a rundown motel on the outskirts of the city to lay low and wait for Alexios to wake up.

The Astromancer slept soundly on the floor, uncovered, with the air conditioning stuck at 16°C all night, snoring like a decade old tractor, while I paced around the room, just waiting for Magi to kick down the door and arrest us both. Nothing of the sort happened, thankfully.

The next morning couldn’t have come faster as the Astromancer groggily stirs from his slumber.

“Morning, Sleeping Beauty. Get up, you’ve got three Crests and some real estate to endorse.” 

“Ugh… Can’t this wait?” 

“No. Remember what happened the last time I waited nicely? Yeah, get up now.”

Nudging the Magus, my hands twitch and grasp at air as if ready to summon Senza the moment he tries anything.

"Can I at least brush my teeth first?" 

"Fuck you, and fuck your ugly-ass teeth. Get a move on.”

I snap, glaring at Alexios the entire journey to his private estate, where we are greeted by more than twenty servants—maids and butlers both. “Here are the papers for the real estates. I will cover all the proceedings, but this year’s taxes are your responsibility.” 

“And the Crests.” 

“Yeah… About that.” 

“I swear, if you try to fuck me over again, I will put you, your parents, and your pet dog right where your brother is.” 

“I don’t even have a pet dog?”

“Trust me, you should—they’re adorable,” A kind and merciful King that I am, I advise. “Now, hand over those Crests, and tell your butler to put that phone down before I kick his teeth in!”

“I’m not saying I won’t pay you back, but there are… Complications. When I mentioned Crests? I actually meant Grimoires.” 

“Tomatoes, to-mah-toes. Hand them over!” 

With a shrug, the Astromancer leads me to a library, where he twists the head of a statue, triggering a mechanism that reveals a solid titanium door covered in Runes.

“Stay close to me—within at least 10 feet—or the security measures will activate.” He cautions. “And I must warn you, the Grimoires can be quite… Feisty.” 

“I can handle it.”

“Just don’t get all testy when they try to kill you. Now, prepare to be—”

Alexios grins as he throws open the door. “Awed!” 

I narrow my eyes at the nearly empty bookshelf. “What the hell is this? You’re not holding out on me, are you?” 

There are, at best, over a dozen Grimoires in the entire room.

The rest are faded scrolls and dusty pages barely held together by oversized strings.

They look like they’d crumble at a touch. “I thought you said you had a lot of Crests?" 

"We do," The Magus responds, blinking at me wide eyed. "This is a lot, or did you think Crests just grow on trees? This is the result of several wars we've won, you know—we paid in blood; sweat and tear for them. Plus, we have traded Crests with other Houses over the years. This is all that’s left."

It's definitely not all that's left.

In fact, I seriously doubt this is the only Vault.

While having a centralized Vault is convenient, if they were attacked, they'd risk losing everything of value to their enemies, which is why I'm certain there are Crests valuable to them hidden elsewhere, but that's a subject best left untouched.

Even a cornered dog will bite.

Not to mention, I'm on his turf.

I'm confident, but there's a thin line between confidence and recklessness.

With Alexios and his servants, plus who knows how many other Bounded Fields working against me, those are odds I'm not too eager to bet on.

“Fine, let’s see what I’m working with here.” 

I glance at the leather-bound grimoires, scratching my chin in thought.

Honestly, even if I acquire these, I won't be able to use or experiment with them anytime soon—not while the entire Matou Lineage's accumulated knowledge is still available for me to explore.

Speaking of which, I've been neglecting Magecraft lately; it's time to get back to it once this is all over. 

"No..." I mutter, placing a Grimoire about Voodoo back on the shelf.

Playing with Cursed Dolls and Needles isn't really my style, as one can imagine.

“Ew.”

That kid you called faggot?

He likes cocks. 

That girl you called overweight?

She stands at 5’2; weighs over 400 pounds and can barely walk from her bedroom to the fridge.

The guy you called slow?

He repeated the third grade thrice and probably would’ve done so a fourth time if the teachers had not taken pity on him.

And that cheerleader you called a slut?

She's hooked up with the entire football team from not just hers, but the neighboring schools as well.

The point is, sometimes you’re right to judge a book by its cover, the same way I just did a Necronomicon knock-off made entirely out of human skin and broken, rotting teeth stacked on top of each other, which’s basically throwing itself at me like a Facehugger.

Persistent lil’ bastard even sprouts spider-legs to chase me, while completely ignoring Alexios and his servants too, may I add.

“He likes you.” 

I kick the Grimoire into the wall, where it proceeds to lay still and sulk. "Well, I'm not the biggest fan of his, so he'd better stay right there while I check out the other Grimoires or I’ll throw him in a Black Hole."

“How cruel, why not give the little guy a chance?” 

Because the fucking thing’s whispering in Tongue I don’t recognize?

“And end up summoning the fucking Deadeye? I think I’ll pass.”

The next Grimoire actually seems… Pretty decent, all things considered. 

Its cover is crafted from polished brownstone, with various kinds of jewelry embedded on top.

“That one’s nice too.”

“Do I look stupid to you?” Earth Elemental Invocation falls squarely within the territory of [Eulyphis]—Spiritual Evocation for those new to the art.

It's through this branch of Magecraft that Solomon summoned the 72 Demons who helped solidify his rule.

The same Demon Gods who later 'appropriated' his Vessel to threaten the End of Mankind in the FGO Timeline... The ungrateful bastards wouldn’t even exist without Humanity. It sounds impressive on paper, until you realize there are countless Cosmic Horrors just waiting for an unsuspecting, reckless new Conjurer to tamper with Forces he can barely comprehend and doom the world.

In addition, I don’t trust powers that aren’t my own.

Borrowed power’s always unreliable… A Spell that can be deactivated or outright refuse its Caster’s commands is utterly worthless to me.

I have neither the time, patience, nor desire to deal with a rebellious Spirit who can at its whims decide not to help because it’s feeling off that day.

Examing each one carefully, my attention’s briefly captured by one draped in a lion’s skin, which I decide to skip for the moment.

I believe in fate—hard not to in this kind of setting—but I have two more Grimoires to pick. “’The Whispering Gallery?’”

It's a sound-based grimoire with a plain yellow cover and faded cuneiform text above.

It’s not even bound, yet trying to open it feels like interacting with a static object in a video game. “I see.”

To unlock it, you have to play the lyre according to the music on top while channeling your Od.

It’s a clever concept, but not the most secure for a Grimoire.

With a swirl of my fingers, I create ear-piercing soundwaves which I slowly tweak to be more melodic.

I’m no expert on Cuneiform, but I know a little—just a tiny bit I picked up from raiding the Tohsaka Library, and some more taught to me by, you guess it, Gil.

“We couldn’t open it,” Alexios shrugs. “The Magus we consulted mentioned it requires a specialized Mystic Code from ancient Sumer. Helps imbue the Od in with the melodies. Not much of those laying around anymore, sadly.”

“I’ll take it.”

“You sure? No take-backsies.”

“Positive.”

[Lazy Genius] has a month-long cooldown, but if it means opening a Grimoire, I guess it's worth the wait.

The melody is complex, requiring not just a lyre but also drums, reed pipes, and lutes to be played fully—the whole orchestra essentially… All of which must have Od infused at specific wavelengths to activate the Grimoire.

I bet it could be easily achieved with the ‘specialized equipment’ Alexios mentioned.

"Alright. Just don't complain if you can't—"

The song sounds like one of those soundtracks Hollywood uses for a Middle Eastern scene, complete with a drawn-out voice of a man moaning something inaudible.

Strange the ancient world found such melodies appealing, but to each their own, I suppose.

With one last injection of Od, the Grimoire snaps open, its pages shinning invitingly with the Old Tongue.

Smirking at Alexios, I taunt as I slip the Grimoire securely in my Storage Ring. “Skill issue.”

“…Prick.” 

“Yes I am, yes I am. Happy to be one.” Content with my choice, particularly given how well it will sync with [Vibration], I turn my attention to the third.

“I wouldn’t recommend that.” 

“Really? If I remember correctly, you suggested the freaking Necronomicon earlier.” In comparison, this one looks relatively normal; if a bit dusty and too purple for me.

“That one sucks.”

“It can’t be that bad, right?”

I flip it open and see the name of the first spell: “[Erotic Touch]… Are you fucking serious?”

“It’s a tantric-based Magecraft developed by a Greek magus around 1000 BCE. It draws heavily from Eros and Aphrodite both… The Magus who wrote that Grimoire allegedly had a harem of five hundred women. One day, he just upped and vanished, though rumor has it he was murdered by one of the more jealous women. If you want it—”

“I’ll pass too.”

Fire…

Ice…

Shadows…

“Wow, how many Elemental Grimoires do you guys have?!”

“Too many… Way too many.”

“This one looks interesting.”

It’s Germanic in origin and belonged to a Dwarf, of all things. “’Arcanus Mechanicus.’” Where the fuck did they steal this from, the Imperium of Man?

“It’s a dying Craft, but I won’t stop you.”

With both Grimoires in hand, I head back to the Lion, which is now pulsing with anger. “I was really hoping you’d skip that one.”

“What exactly is it?” I ask.

“When Herakles defeated the Nemean Lion, its hide was used to make a cape for the Demigod. The remaining scraps were given to the Magi, who worked their Magecraft to create… That. Remember when I said the Grimoires could be feisty?”

“Yeah?”

“Well, I meant this. If you take it, don’t even think about opening the first page—not here.”

It was smart of him to warn me beforehand.

If I had tried to open it, the Illusion of the Nemean Lion would have attacked us all. It’s not quite the original, but it has retained the Nemean Lion’s invulnerability against human-made inventions—my Swordspear and even our Spells included.

“Let me guess, the Wandering Sea created this?”

“You guessed it. They thought they could bring back the Age of Mysteries with it…”

“They thought wrong.”

The whole Divine Beast was said to corrode the fabric of Humanity and reject Civilizations entirely.

But this? This is just the useless scraps they managed to salvage from its body.

Of course, it wouldn’t work.

“I’ll take these three.” I say.

“Well… My heart bleeds, but a deal’s a deal. Congrats, Lord Hangman, you’re the proud owner of three shiny new Grimoires. Pleasure doing business with you.”

The loss is apparently substantial enough for it to show on Alexios’ face.

Taking pity on the Astromancer, I tear up the real estate papers and hand them back to him. "Take it. I've raided enough of your coffers.”

I still need to win Animusphere over, and robbing his subordinate blind probably won’t endear me to the guy.

At my generous gesture, Alexios nearly sheds a tear. “Thanks…”

With his debt cleared, I spend half an hour exchanging pleasantries with the Astromancer, sipping tea that’s too sweet for my taste and eating crackers that are so dry I might as well be chewing on sawdust—both of which the Magus genuinely seems to enjoy, may I add.

Finally, I make a quick escape to the new place Gil has procured for us.

I haven’t set up my Workshop yet, but that’s nothing a quick [Transfiguration] can’t fix.

— [Infinity] —

“Milord, won’t your parents—”

“They’ll understand.” Alexios runs a hand through his hair as he picks up the discarded Grimoires and puts them back where they belong. “Those things hold little value for us anyway; might as well trade them for favor with the Queen’s boy-toy.”

What he neglects to tell the servants is he has, albeit briefly, seen the same Magus effortlessly manhandle his baby brother, despite the Ritual he had just undergone at the time.

“First-Gen…”

Hangman must believe Magi fools to introduce himself as such.