The Holy Man of the Church Creak

6 Chapter 6(2/2)

began to accumulate at the tip of the twelve-winged sentinel's attack. Any moment now and it would explode with an unrestrained amount of power generated by a being of twelve wings.

She should have listened to Griselda's words. She wasn't yet ready to wield Durandal's power. Too immature.

Her thoughts reaching this point, nothing really mattered to her anymore.

As her body was sucked in towards the hole in the dimension and white completely surrounded her vision, she became listless as her ears registered the burst of a mighty explosion in the next moment.

More than ever in her life, she prayed for a miracle.

The Durandal Shirou had given her thrummed in her hand, yet quickly dimmed.

Because only God could create miracles.

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He didn't know if he could make it through this, but he could feel his chest caving in, if not distorting completely from the explosion. That was as expected though from the power of a twelve-winged sentinel.

He had had no time to erect a shield of any kind for himself in the time frame he had to push Xenovia out of the way. Thus, all he had been able to do was reinforce his body and hope for the best. Still, the added durability was enough for him to at least not explode into bits on the spot, but instead send him hurtling through the air at break-neck speed.

He didn't know when, or exactly how far away he had landed, yet he ended up in a place that resembled a grand monolith with far reaching spires on all sides. Small grasses and shrubs were seen just off the edge of his vision, but he couldn't move to look around more due to the severity of his injuries casuing him to black out.

Like always though, when he had come to, the wounds he had sustained had already greatly healed. He didn't know why, but this was because of the effect of a certain sheath stored within his body.

As he pulled himself to his feet, it was then that the voice in the necklace spoke.

"Somehow you have ended up within the control center of this dimension," the voice explained. "Although I suppose that's a good thing as you may be able to simply fix the problem affecting the relic rather than make your way back to the hole in the dimension."

He frowned after listening to the words the voice in the necklace spoke. "Then how do I fix it?"

"That's not something you should think about at the moment, but rather you should know that this place is the most heavily guarded location in this relic," the voice said. "Although you might be happy to know that I will be of great use now for something other than for directions like the previous weeks."

He raised a brow as the voice directed him to step towards one of the spires surrounding the monolith. Almost immediately, the spire shrunk in size as the necklace siphoned off the Holy Energy fueling it. After words, he was then instructed to move towards the rest of the spires, similar events happening to each spire he approached.

It was only when the last spire was gone, did a divine resplendent light emit from the necklace.

"This should be good enough," the voice spoke. "Although even less than a fraction of my strength was recovered, it should be enough."

"What do you mean?" He asked.

"You will understand. Just know that you will no longer need to fear any winged-sentinel from now on," the voice said mysteriously. "Sentinels and Winged Sentinels in the first place were designed to only take instruction from a single important being up in Heaven."

He nodded to the voice's words, but he was still a tad confused.

"You will understand eventually. For now, you may make your way towards the monolith," the voice said.

Although he still had questions, he would much rather escape from the Dimensional Cross first. Thus, he moved towards the monolith, pausing as he saw just how many winged sentinels were blocking his path. What was even more frightening was the presence of seven twelve-winged sentinels at the foremost of the group.

"Move aside," the voice within the necklace transmitted its voice out as it expelled a substantial amount of Holy Aura.

To his credit, he did not react outwardly when the winged sentinels did as the voice instructed.

"Curious? Try it yourself. I'll help you," the voice in the necklace spoke.

From there, the voice prompted him to try calling one of the winged sentinels over while still releasing waves of Holy Aura. After doing as the voice suggested, one of the winged sentinels indeed moved towards him, and it was twelve winged as well.

Kneeling, the twelve-winged sentinel awaited instruction.

"How is this possible?" He couldn't help but ask, remembering the strength of just one of these twelve-winged sentinels. Its power alone may have required the use of one of the more taxing Noble Phantasms in his possession.

"Perhaps because we're near the control area," the voice supplied, but it sounded more or less like the voice was attempting to avoid the issue.

Regardless though, he wouldn't question it for the time being as the situation had indeed become favourable. Awkwardly dismissing the twelve-winged sentinel as he wasn't sure if it understood him or not, he walked directly beside the monolith.

The voice in the necklace then instructed him to place his hand against the cold stone, and as soon as he did so, an entrance opened up at the monolith's side.

Within the monolith appeared what looked like an ordinary control room. He could determine this based on experience when he had worked on a similar project within a room in Homurahara Academy in Fuyuki. By project, he meant volunteered to repair a few of the older models of computers.

Reminded of such things, he couldn't help but smile wryly as he realized that the people of Heaven themselves modeled their own technology on what humans had created. That, or it could have been the other way around, but he didn't suppose it mattered.

Walking in, wires were wound across various devices, connecting them to perform several functions. Although he said wires, they were more like ethereal thread that allowed for objects to easily move through them or past them.

Based on the dust on the majority of the screens around him, evidently, he could see just how old the place was. Even some of the screens that were showing various places across the dimension were cracked and tinted with dust, or at least the few that were working.

Of the screens, he could see within the room inside the monolith, only a few appeared to be working order.

Pausing his momentary observations, he quickly used Structural Analysis to discover exactly what it was that had caused the malfunction in the Dimensional Cross.

As Xenovia had explained to him during the resting intervals of their travels, the Dimensional Cross was supposedly a relic used for the training of church exorcists. In this way, potential exorcists could face stronger opponents for training without the threat of death looming over their heads.

It was not supposed to be a place where trainees were doomed for certain death.

Carefully analysing everything that filtered into his sight, he soon came to a stop over a single point in the control room.

Observing this point, he placed a hand down over the contraption and began to fiddle with something loose he felt at the edge of his finger tips. After a few more attempts, he eventually managed to pull out a small paneled device.

What stood out though, was a black feather peaking out from the only damaged portion of the panel.

He raised a brow. This indeed was the main cause of the problem.

"Fallen Angels," the voice in the necklace spoke in a sigh. "Angels who have lost themselves in temptation and have fallen from grace. Their pinioned wings of white, turned pitch black as a sign of their fall."

The voice in the necklace then went on to explain that the Fallen Angels were the third Faction in the Great War. The others being the Angels and the Devils. Although the Fallen Angels were once Angels themselves, their leaders were insistent on fighting to better their lives.

Fallen Angels were the faction at risk the most by both sides. Although some on the side of the Angels were hesitant to formally attack them due to former ties, they didn't welcome them back with open arms either. As for what the Devils thought of them, they saw them as another enemy capable of using light based attacks which was a great danger to Devil kind.

Unwilling to remain in such a position, the Lord Governor of Fallen Angels, Azazel, and his subordinates, lead them in battle to face the other factions.

As the Dimensional Cross was a relic of the Great War of the Factions, there was no doubt that one of the Fallen must have been able to sabotage the relic. Worse, as the particular Fallen must have been part of the team that had been privy to the inner workings of the Dimensional Cross.

With the black feather removed, he watched silently as the damage on the panal appeared to repair itself naturally. Eyes scanning over it for anymore abnormalities, he sighed in relief when he realized that there was none.

Swiftly rummaging through his belongings, he eventually pulled out the orb Griselda had instructed everyone to take.

Its function was simple: it would return the examinee back into the present world, and that was exactly what it was that he wanted to do.

Crushing the white orb in hand, he was immediately sent out as the necklace gave off a firm light which resonated with the Heaven-made cores of seven others.

He had left the Dimension of the Dimensional Cross a moment ago, but unknowingly, he did not leave by himself.

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A blessed child was truly all Griselda could say. Shirou had surpassed the title of a Holy Man as most priests could be considered as such. Instead, as a blessed child, he was a being akin to a saint in the making. From the description, she and the rest of the clergy had obtained from the examinees, Shirou had not only revealed an astonishing amount of Holy Aura, but he had defended the examinees as they crossed back into reality. No one knew though aside from Xenovia, and by extension herself, about why Shirou had yet to come out.

Staring at Xenovia, Griselda couldn't help but clench her fists. From the moment she had returned, she had isolated herself to stand over at a corner of the room, holding two swords with one in each hand. The first of the two swords were easy for her, and many of the clergy to recognize. It was Durandal, the sword gifted to Xenovia at a young age due to her abundant amount of inner light, and as expected, the sword had chosen her as its next wielder.

What threw many in the clergy for a loop though, was the sword in her other hand releasing an identical Holy Aura as Durandal.

Xenovia had already emotionlessly disclosed to Griselda of the sword's identity and power, even telling her of the miracles stored within and shocking her with the information. It was another Durandal with one of three miracles still stored within.

She knew that she could not keep hidden the fact that other examinees might have heard the sword's name, but the point was, they couldn't confirm it as the sword was currently in Xenovia's hands. To this regard, Xenovia refused to let go of it even after some of the more respected clergy went up to her and asked to inspect the blade.

Griselda could understand her daughter's actions at least.

Not only did the other Durandal help contain the power of the original, but it could potentially be a part of the last memory she would ever have of Shirou. There was no way she would be willing to lend it to another, even if it was only for an inspection.

Although Griselda didn't show it, the amount of gratitude she currently had towards Shirou was unmistakably high. He had saved her daughter, perhaps even at the cost of his own life.

"I said, no!" Xenovia glared at one of the more persistent Priests who had insisted on seeing the sword. Perhaps because of her own agitation, a large amount of Holy Energy began to exude from both Durandals she had in hand, effectively dissuading anyone from coming close lest they set her off.

She had then pulled up the hood of her white cloak over her head and a substantial portion of her upper face, covering them from view. From then on, no one approached her as she placed both swords on either side of her and sat down with her knees hugged to her chest.

No one knew how much time passed since then, but no one had left the room. This was because, even if there was a slim chance of Shirou returning, many of the examinees were holding onto it since Shiro was their benefactor. It would be abnormal not to have developed a sort of comradery after being together for a span of nearly four months in the Dimensional Cross. And this sense of comradery was also why people were quite mournful of the people who passed away.

It was only when the bells of the church rung to signal mid-night did any changes occur.

The air seemed to distort around the Dimensional Cross before it spat out a single individual accompanied by seven others.

As soon as Shirou appeared, he realized that he had not come alone, but rather seven of the twelve-winged sentinels had come with him, remaining motionless like statues behind him and rendering him speechless. From what the necklace had said, they would only follow the words of an important individual up in Heaven, yet now they had come here? From what he was told, he had only got them to follow his instruction because he was in the control area of the Dimensional Cross. At least, that was what the necklace had explained.

Regardless, his arrival signaled the start of a commotion from the examinees, and even the clergy whose attention remained solely on the seven twelve-winged sentinels. Within the clergy, the head priest was the one most excited as now he had something to replace the relics that had been broken.

Within the commotion, a lone figure stood up from the far corner, a white hood over her head. From the figure and blue hair with green highlight alone, it was impossible to not realise who it was.

Although others could not see the expression hidden beneath the hood of her cloak, Shirou could. And based on her expression, things did not bode well for him.

Xenovia looked livid, of that he had no doubts. She pushed past the crowds, shoving them aside without a care until she stood standing in front of him.

Shirou compared the expression she had now to the one she had had previously at the lake, and quickly realized that she was far angrier to the point of her shoulders trembling.

Shirou braced himself, closing his eyes as Xenovia lunged forward,

only to feel the wind practically squeezed out of him as she crushed him into a hug. Awkwardly, he returned it under the gazes of the suddenly silent crowd who for a select few were still in a trance due to the appearance of the winged sentinels.

Griselda though was not one of those individuals, and instead had a contemplative gleam flash across her eyes. Shirou was a child that the church would not see often let alone produce. His talents were exceptional, and his abilities, even more so.

The power to create true Holy Swords from nothing. It was on a level far superior to her initial guess of the Sacred Gear Blade Blacksmith.

She then recalled the information Xenovia had provided her, particularly the information of the other Durandal. Through her eyes, Shirou had become quite suitable.

Perhaps she should play match maker? But this was actually quite troubling as she had no experience in the particular field of romance as she had not had one herself. She pursed her lips and thought quietly about the best way to proceed. If Shirou was a blessed child, then the child of a blessed child would surely be another blessed child?

For some reason Griselda had become greatly motivated to this cause, and this stemmed not only from the reaction Xenovia had had before Shirou's return, but from her own maternal sentiments. She had adopted Xenovia since she was just a baby, and as one could tell, was deeply attached to her and wished a good future for her. Yet she still had her obligations to the church. And what better way to fill both obligations than to set Xenovia up with a blessed child? Now just how to go about it.

Xenovia could feel the stares on her, but for the moment, she just didn't care. Let them stare, she had nothing to be ashamed of. She had prayed for a miracle, and God had granted her a miracle. She was allowed to act this selfishly for the time being.

Shirou was her first friend, and he had willingly risked his life for her.

She wasn't angry at him, but at herself who had been the cause of the event.

Her face pressed into his chest, drawing comfort from the fact that he was still alive and not gone.

It was at this point that Griselda walked forward, her gaze unnaturally calm.

She opened her mouth and whispered into Shirou's ear. "Mr. Emiya," she spoke robotically as if she had just rehearsed the words.

"When can I expect a baby?"