A Gathering of Eccentricsthe standard rankings of the Clock Tower's magecraft hierarchy—it was a designation of singular prestige.
Within the Clock Tower, twelve ancient families had provided funding and land since its founding, wielding corresponding authority. The leaders of these twelve families were known as the [Twelve Lords].
With the exception of the Department of Policies, which operated independently, each of the twelve departments fell under the jurisdiction of a Lord. These Lords functioned as deans, holding authority second only to the Director himself.
The man before them—dressed in a black suit, with faint wrinkles between his brows and long, smooth hair cascading down to his waist—was none other than the Lord of the Modern Magecraft Department, Lord El-Melloi II. To Kanade, however, he was better known by his true name: Waver Velvet.
Beside him stood a petite girl shrouded entirely in a black cloak. Despite possessing strikingly beautiful features, she seemed determined to hide her face from view. In Kanade's memory, she was Gray, the wielder of King Arthur's holy spear.
"She'd make a good candidate for a cushy life," Kanade mused as he observed Gray.
"Family background: 0 points. Wife potential: 8 points. Growth potential: 8 points. Average score: 5. Though she's broke, her shyness is endearing. And with King Arthur's spear, she'd have no trouble protecting me. If I hadn't met Shiki, I might've pursued her."
After a moment's consideration, Kanade decided against stirring up unnecessary complications. Gray was a sweet girl, but he already had Shiki. There was no need to go chasing after others.
Noticing Kanade's gaze, Gray—after a brief internal gasp at his striking looks—quickly tugged her hood further down, as if desperate to conceal herself.
Realizing he'd unsettled her, Kanade offered a gentle, reassuring smile to convey he meant no harm.
"Lord El-Melloi II, what an honor to meet you." Heine stepped forward smoothly, the practiced ease of a seasoned socialite.
"Heine Istari!" El-Melloi II's surprise was evident—clearly, the man carried significant weight.
"Flew, is Heine really that important?" Kanade whispered to the mercenary.
Flew stroked his beard. "Knight Heine, also known as the 'Former Cleric.' The Istari family is a renowned alchemical lineage—their crafted weapons can rival lower-tier Heroic Spirits. Heine was originally the family's chosen heir, with talent beyond imagination. But instead of inheriting, he joined the Holy Church."
"The Holy Church!"
Kanade recognized the name. The Holy Church was an ancient organization that rivaled the Mage's Association. On the surface, they were pious servants of God, but in the shadows, they operated as a militant force dedicated to "hunting heretics."
They denied all heresy except demons, refusing to acknowledge anything contradicting their doctrine. Dead Apostles, magi—all fell within their purview. Countless magi had died by their hands, making them deeply despised within magical society.
"Yeah, who knows what he was thinking? But recently, he returned to his family. The Church dispatched twelve Executors to retrieve him—all failed. And now, he's someone everyone wants to claim."
"Kekeke... So even Lord El-Melloi II has come. My old friend truly had poor taste in acquaintances."
A hoarse, grating voice—like air being forced through ruined lungs—cut through the hall.
A decrepit old man, half-buried in his wheelchair, fingers adorned with expensive rings, was pushed forward by a servant. The moment he appeared, he directed his venom at El-Melloi II.
"Lord El-Melloi II, to think a Lord of the Clock Tower still languishes at the 'Fes' rank. How shameless to show your face here—especially in the castle of my dear friend Griven."
"Orlock Sizemond..." El-Melloi II uttered the name with clear unease.
Flew leaned toward Kanade. "Orlock is a master of Butterfly Magecraft at the Clock Tower—a thoroughly unpleasant old man."
"I am well aware of my inadequacies. Due to certain circumstances, I merely hold this title in stewardship. I beg your forgiveness, Lord Orlock." El-Melloi II offered no rebuttal, bowing his head sincerely.
"Hmph! A Lord should never lower his head so easily—you disgrace history itself!" Orlock's disdain only deepened.
"Ooooh! A maiden! How fortunate I am today!"
From the second floor, a young man in loose Japanese monastic garb—his head wrapped in a white cloth, one eye covered, and four pouches hanging from his belt—let out an exuberant cry.
With a single leap, he descended gracefully to the ground.
"I am Shijoubou Seigen, a practitioner of Shugendō! Pleased to meet you all!"
Shijoubou Seigen—a man whose flippant demeanor clashed starkly with his ascetic attire.
No sooner had he landed than he bounded toward Gray, scrutinizing her face with the brazenness of a rogue.
"What a lovely face! Why hide it away?"
"Hey! Don't frighten my apprentice! And aren't Japanese ascetics supposed to avoid women?" El-Melloi II quickly shielded Gray.
"Now, now! Avoiding temptation is the principle—but admiring beauty is a personal hobby!" Seigen laughed boisterously.
"Oh? And here's a pretty boy too! Easy on the eyes, but alas, male."
After dismissing Kanade with a regretful sigh, Seigen's gaze locked onto Heine's sister, the timid Rosalind.
"Ah! Another maiden hidden away! So adorable! Might I have your name? Perhaps we could... deepen our acquaintance?"
"Step back. You're frightening my sister."
Heine blocked Rosalind, his expression icy.
"An overprotective brother is no good—you'll only make her resent you."
Seigen, thwarted, shot back irritably.
Heine, maintaining noble decorum, replied coolly, "Unfortunately for you, Rosalind could never resent me."
"Wow! Such confidence! Are you serious?"
Seigen's hand slipped behind his back—then, in a flash, he hurled something from Heine's blind spot.
"Take this!"
A round object whistled through the air, ricocheting off the wall before hurtling toward Heine.
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