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A Small Estate Half a Day's Drive From London

Archbishop Laura Stuart's POV

"Have the talisman's been activated?" she asked as her car got further and further away from the small estate.

"Yes, Archbishop," the driver replied, only glancing in the rear view mirror. "Your instructions have been followed to the letter."

"Good. Remind our analysts that I expect exemplary work from them," she said as she thought about the child who was not a child. "If there is any lack of effort, I shall be most displeased."

Indeed, with the potential gains she foresaw, any bungling would be most exasperating indeed.

From the moment the boy who went by the codename 'Sage' had been selected as a potential translator for the Collar ceremony, the full resources of the Anglican Church had been employed to learn all there was to know. After all, they couldn't allow just anyone to be exposed to such an important and sensitive task, so a thorough background check of each candidate was only logical.

She'd been quite surprised when the investigators could only trace Sage back a little over a year before the trail went ice cold. This had been treated with suspicion since it was the theory that no one capable of such excellent translation skills could just pop into existence. Following that line of thought, they'd canvassed all the usual institutions of learning, the various private instructors that existed, and even the locations of essential tools necessary to mold such skills. Examples of Sage's work were presented to see if anyone could recognize the handiwork however, while there were a few similarities to known people, there was not enough for a conclusive match.

This had warranted raising the bar a bit in the form of having an item delivered to Sage's address in the pockets of an agent disguised as a courier. Inside the agent's pockets there would be several talismans keyed to detect specific energies without any visible effect to give away their presence. What was discovered was limited since it was discovered that Sage had wards of his own placed at his place of residence specifically to ensure privacy. Nevertheless they'd managed to gain SOME information and it'd been enough to pique her interest further.

Inside the child of twelve years there was an energy that thus far defied classification.

At first she'd thought that it was merely a form of obscure magic but, with every comparison that failed to match up, she found her lack of knowing evermore unacceptable. She'd ordered that the analysts begin tapping into some of the more dangerous scrolls and books for something that'd prove to be an acceptable match. In the end the efforts proved fruitless and it began to look as though only by reaching out to the allies of the Anglican Church outside of the United Kingdom would she learn the truth.

However she had decided against that.

Magic that was so hard to identify was either so useless that it didn't warrant recording or those that created it had chosen to go to extreme lengths to keep it a secret.

Secrets could either mean great power or terrible danger.

Sometimes both.

It had therefore pleased her privately when it turned out that the one to complete the decryption was none other than Sage.

She was not lying where the matter of the Collar parchment decryption had hit a wall or that she wished for him to complete the task. However this also provided an opportunity to learn more about the boy's hidden power in secret. It was one of the reasons why she'd chosen the estate to be the place where Sage would finish the decryption process. On the surface it looked perfectly normal, albeit with the usual precautions one would expect of a property owned by an organization learned in matters of magic. However, in order to keep the truth a secret from Sage, she had a false trail installed into the estate before their arrival that would make it look like they were ready to kill him the moment he finished his task. It wasn't unfeasible and she suspected that the boy anticipated this possible turn of events at the end of his work. By confirming his suspicions he would no doubt draw out the decryption process as long as possible so that a strategy could be devised to save himself. This would work to her benefit since it would allow the talismans more time to send what they detected to the analysts, giving those people a large body of data to work with.

Large enough that they might learn something more than what the courier's talismans had been able to provide.

With a little luck, by the time the decryption process was completed, she would have in her possession an abundance of reasons to both allow the boy to live and perhaps invest in his future.

The power balance between the various religions and governments was maintained because each group believed that they had an accurate grasp of what the others were capable of. Weapons, agents, knowledge and a variety of other things were all woven together to paint a strong portrait, allowing each organization to make plans for the future. Certainly there were blank spots, gaps in the painting, but they were small enough that it could be deduced what should be there by what existed around them. As a result, any conflict between the various factions was kept at the level of a cold war, with spies and machinations occurring behind the scenes. Some of the more reckless ones often threatened to tip things into open warfare but thus far nothing had truly come of it.

However, if Sage's inner power was truly as unique as she suspected that it was and it could be applied in just the right way… that made for some rather interesting possibilities.

After all, if it could not be identified, then, so long as no careless mistakes were made, it could not be tied to the Anglican Church when used against their enemies.

She couldn't help but giggle a bit at the plans already blossoming in her mind.

The future had just become much more interesting.

The Research Estate, Ten Days Later, Main Study

Giles' POV

To say something is not right would be an understatement, he thought as he continued his work to decrypt and translate the documents he'd been tasked with.

He'd known from the beginning that dealing with the young woman, whose name he'd learned to be Laura Stuart, was dangerous. However, due to the limitations of his sorcery and jutsu, he did not have the means to outright oppose them or even use more subtle methods with a high enough probability of success. Therefore he was forced to play along until a variable came along that he could use to turn the tables on Miss Stuart and 'bargain' for a more favourable outcome.

Now, though, he wondered if such a factor would come soon enough for him to take advantage of.

It'd been during a subtle survey of the estate that he'd come upon talismans and wards of a decidedly dangerous nature. He'd seen similar ones during the reign of the Old Council and, when the SWC had come to power, Willow had fabricated some of her own in the interests of security. However security did not necessarily mean just defensive measures. They could also be used offensively to incapacitate intruders to varying degrees, ranging from unconsciousness to more permanent conditions, including death. Based on the ones he'd found in the estate thus far, they focused more on an area of effect enchantment rather than something more concentrated like a beam of harmful energy. Properly laid out on the property, it would grant Miss Stuart considerable coverage to employ whatever magic she desired to use on him. Talismans and wards of this sort were often meant to either overlap one another or come within inches of touching the edges of their territory. Could he somehow disable some covertly providing himself with an escape route without alerting his 'employers'? Possibly. With both methods of magic the words or symbols used were what allowed them to perform their desired function were similar. If one word or symbol was missing it could potentially throw everything off, either preventing activation altogether or inducing a chaotic reaction much like a car suddenly losing a tire while at cruising speed.

He was certain that back in his native dimension, Ethan bloody Rayne was cackling at the idea of 'Ripper' causing some chaos.

The only question was how many of the wards and talismans would he have to tamper with to give him his means of escape. Without knowing the precise measurements of their areas of effect, it could be anywhere from four to ten talismans, with the risk increasing the higher the number got.

He would need more time to logically deduce the number and a means of getting close enough to neutralize them.

Fortunately the documents he was tasked with working on were complex enough that he didn't have to worry about time because it would take plenty to reach the desired conclusion.

From what he could discern, the 'Collar' as it was called in the document, induced a gradual eroding of the subject's body over the course of several months. While not specified in the parts he'd translated and decrypted of the timeline that would transpire before signs of the erosion became serious, he doubted that it'd be more than a few years at most. He supposed that this magic was meant to ensure that the subject wouldn't be able to turn on the Anglican Church should they be corrupted by the knowledge they held while also limiting a potential leak of information. The desire to live, to survive, was very strong in human beings. He had found mentions in the document of a method by which the erosion could be reset but he hadn't found the specifics just yet. Still, this 'reset option' would likely be the carrot as well as the stick that the Anglican Church would use to maintain control of the vessel of the grimoires.

A bit harsh, akin to blackmailing a comrade, but when you take into consideration the power that these grimoires possessed it wasn't altogether unreasonable.

Power corrupted, after all, and having the knowledge of numerous grimoires placed in the mind of someone with a photographic memory gave that person tremendous power.

While it would be nice to be able to trust them to use such power responsibly, there was some knowledge that rotted you from the inside no matter how hard you tried to fight against it. There'd been countless documented cases of it that he'd learned of during his tenure as a Watcher and even people who possessed a strong sense of honour fell victim to a corrupting item.

Precautions needed to be taken.

Still, one has to wonder if this will be enough, he thought as he continued his work. While it will limit the amount of time any information extractors have to work with, it is possible however unlikely that one among them might be able to neutralize the Collar.

The perpetrators would then be able to pillage all the magical knowledge they desired.

The best way to neutralize a spell was to employ the counter spell that was usually included with the spell itself, but one did not always have that option. In such cases the only other option was to obtain a strong enough understanding of the spell that needed to be countered so that an effective method of interfering with its processes could be fabricated. By interfering with the processes, a spell could drastically lose strength or even cease to work entirely.

It would take someone of prodigious skill though to reason out a countermeasure in time, if his estimation of the erosion period was accurate but it was possible.

Perhaps… perhaps he should come up with a contingency of his own as he translated and decrypted the document.

The ideal method would be to find a way to erase the grimoires from the subject's mind remotely. It would be dangerous, though, since mind magic was delicate work with the risk of accidentally doing more than intended.

Still, it was the most straightforward method.

Another possibility would be to transfer the files instead from the subject to some sort of storage method positioned at a secure location. This was a bit safer since, so long as an effort was made to ensure the quality and integrity of the transferred information, it could simply be returned to the vessel once they'd been rescued. However, with an increase in care and precision, there was also a proportional increase in the time it'd take to transfer all the information. If it was detected and interrupted while in progress the method would be a failure.

In the end he decided he'd work on the latter possibility, hoping he could use the resources he'd been provided with for the purposes of decryption and translation to nail down the specifics. If things fell into a favourable alignment, he would put his plan into action revealing it to Miss Stuart only once he was finished.

If it didn't… well, he would just have to have faith that the Anglican Church was proficient enough to keep the worst case scenario from occurring.

She seems smarter than Quentin, so at least there's that, he thought remembering the head of the Old Council. I just hope that she also possesses the needed humility to temper her intelligence.

Saint George's Cathedral, London

Two Weeks Later

Laura Stuart's POV

Who are you, Sage? she asked as she finished reading the preliminary results from the analyst team assigned to examine the information being sent from the estate.

The more she found out about the boy, the more questions she had.

"What's your take on it this, Knight Leader?" she asked, looking at the man that she'd been meeting with at the time the preliminary report had come in.

"It certainly is an enticing mystery, Archbishop. Sage is young but clearly possesses an energy that is not magical or Esper related. What's more if the analysis is correct, he looks to be absorbing energy from his environment, strengthening what's already there," Knight Leader said in his usual elegant manner. "While not substantial at the moment, there exists potential for serious growth."

Indeed.

She'd come to the same conclusion.

The energy that existed inside of Sage could conclusively be called something that an ordinary human did not possess yet it did not conform to the identification patterns attached to either magic or Esper powers. The wards and talismans also showed that Sage was absorbing energy from any source of heat as well as the earth on the estate grounds. The energy wasn't being pulled in sufficient quantities or concentrations to be visible to the naked eye but Sage's body didn't show any sign of reaching its full capacity either.

As Knight Leader stated, there was a good chance that when it finally did become full it would be quite impressive indeed.

"A potential asset to ally with?" she suggested to measure Knight Leader's reaction.

"Perhaps, but it would be hasty to pursue the matter presently. We know not how this energy could be utilized, much less if it could aid in any of the Church's ventures," Knight Leader replied, sounding open to exploring the possibility but nothing more.

He had a point.

While the information thus far did point to the energy becoming great indeed, they hadn't even begun considering how it could be utilized or if it could be utilized in a way that benefited the Anglican Church, along with the United Kingdom. If it could be harnessed in a manner akin to magic then they would have a sword or a shield that their enemies would be unable to understand right away. If Sage was assigned an appropriately skilled 'cleanup crew', then any useful traces of his power could be erased, making it that much harder for their enemies to devise a countermeasure.

She almost let herself descend into more detailed planning but managed to stop before getting too far.

It was a bad habit of hers to do such things when presented with an unpolished jewel.

"You have a point," she said before her silence could inspire Knight Leader to suspect something. "In any case, Sage is making good progress on translating the information needed for The Collar. If all goes well, we should be ready to perform the spell in six months, if not sooner."

She could tell instantly from the look on Knight Leader's face that, while he might be loyal to the Church and, via that, her personally, the man's sense of honour couldn't help but be uncomfortable at what was going to happen. While most would say that nothing would come of the man's discomfort, she'd found through past experience that small feelings could become large ones if left alone long enough.

Better to stamp them out immediately then allow them to fester.

"I understand your misgivings, Knight Leader. I am not ignorant of the ethical quagmire of using the Collar and implementing the proposed scenario," she said, doing her best to convey empathy and understanding. "However you know what is at stake. Over one hundred thousand grimoires on a variety of topics are in our possession. There are any number of magic users and arcane organizations that would like nothing more than to possess them. By using this method we force a stalemate. If they try to steal the books themselves, they'll know that somewhere in the world there's a means of countering their actions. Without knowing how much time they have or how far away the host is from the site of their venture, their indecision will stay their hand."

"And if they seek out the 'host', their defence mode will ensure that the enemy will not survive the encounter. I understand the premise," Knight Leader said with lingering discomfort. "I simply find the choice of 'host' to be… morally questionable, as well as abrasive towards our common duty. She is, after all-"

"She is nothing more than the result of his reckless behaviour. You know as well as I that her family has officially disowned her and given their permission to use her for this purpose," she said firmly, clamping down on any further discussion on THAT point. "Besides, this is the kinder of the options open to us. You made your objections regarding the alternative quite clear."

Watching the Knight Leader's face darken with anger, it was safe to say that his feelings regarding dismemberment, chains and imprisonment were unchanged. Regardless of moral objections, the alternative method would ensure that the grimoires would remain safe and in a secure location. Still, she would only order its use if Sage failed in his task or the Collar spell proved inadequate to the needs of the Church.

"Have you received word from her current keeper on her progress?" Knight Leader asked, moving things along.

"Indeed. Stiyl reports that she has finished memorizing the grimoires at the Pataliputra Ruins," she replied, pleased to discuss something more positive. "If they continue at their current rate, she should be finished in time for us to cast the Collar spell."

"I imagine the location with the greatest difficulty will be the Vatican," Knight Leader said with some concern. "We've never been on good terms with them and it took significant concessions from her highness to get them to agree to grant access to their library."

"No doubt they're merely feigning cooperation with us," she said, having already debated the possibilities in her mind. "They'll wait until the host's work is done before making their move."

"You still think that they will try to kidnap the host before the Collar can be put into place?" Knight Leader asked, not looking as concerned as she felt. "They have to know that others will try to do the same. Even if their plan is to take advantage of the confusion created by multiple factions fighting one another, they could just as easily lose considerable resources should they fail."

"Whosoever gains custody of the grimoires will hold unprecedented power," she said, not swayed in the least. "Such power would make almost any losses seem acceptable."

Indeed, she was sure that, with their pride, the Roman Catholic Church saw the current power balance as completely intolerable. The fools and their dogma were obsessed with spreading their religion to every corner of the globe and stamping out every competing system of faith that existed. While the grimoires that were being committed to memory weren't the only ways this goal could be achieved, it would certainly help them advance their agenda by a decade or two.

"Then I will gather my lieutenants and ensure that our knights are run through every conceivable scenario that might transpire," Knight Leader said, showing his resolve. "Whatever those Vatican dogs might try, they shall be stopped by our shields and cut down by our blades."

"That is reassuring, Knight Leader, however let us hope it does not come to that," she said, remembering some of the less pleasant outcomes her mind had come up with. "A fragile balance exists between the Roman Catholic Church and the Anglican Church. Neither side has a large enough advantage over the other to make open war desirable."

That might change if Sage's hidden power proved to be substantial enough but for now they would let diplomacy and negotiation have their way.

The Front Steps of Saint George's Cathedral

Six Months Later

Giles' POV

I pray the 'tweaks' I have introduced prove successful, he thought as the two suited bodyguards escorted him and his bag up the steps. More than that, I pray that they are not detected.

Indeed, organizations such as the Anglican Church tended to frown upon outside help interfering with their objectives. He'd heard enough stories about how Travers chose to handle the outside help that tampered with what they'd been hired to do for a task; everything from trumped up criminal charges resulting in a lengthy prison sentence to arranging for them to fall into the grasp of a particularly terrifying breed of demon. Whatever would best get the desired message across and discourage future outside help from exceeding their mandate. Given what he'd seen of the Anglican Church of this reality, he suspected that the consequences of discovery would be decidedly harsher for him.

Once they were inside he was guided to a set of doors to the right and, once they were through, one of the bodyguards did something he'd only half expected. With the muttering of an incantation in a language used by ancient Saxons, a section of the grey stones that made up the left wall shimmered before retracting to the side, revealing a staircase leading downward. A bit odd but not surprising coming from an organization with knowledge of the arcane, and a bit contradictory considering how most religions involving Jesus Christ called magic the power of the Devil. However, much like the Council both old and new, it was a fact of life that you needed the right tool for the right job, regardless of what your spiritual beliefs might be. So long as you didn't call upon any beings dwelling closer to the black area of life instead of the white area and took precautions, magic was a perfectly permissible problem solver.

Marching down the stairs, he soon entered a long hallway with old fashioned wooden doors spaced at regular intervals, with ring handles to open them with. Judging from the way they were walking, he suspected that the destination was the largest door of the lot, implying a large room on the other side. When they were about halfway there the large door opened and a boy not even in his teens with long red hair, clad in a black priest robe, exited. The boy looked to be somewhat distracted and only paid his group of three a passing glance as he walked by.

So I am not the only 'youth' the Anglican Church hires for its underground activities, he thought with some disapproval. True the boy could simply be in charge of ordinary chores but I doubt that such a person would have the clearance to be allowed down here.

He'd always disapproved of the fact that Slayers were Called so young and that Travers' traditionalist faction had convinced the inner circle of the Old Council to take Potentials into their care as soon as they were found. He felt that children should be allowed to be children and that they should only be permitted to take up the fight once they were old enough to understand the danger. Sadly the Powers That Be remained steadfast in choosing their champion as young as twelve years old but no older than eighteen. As for Travers, the man claimed that it was more efficient to get the Potentials before they learned any beliefs that would hinder them should they be Called to stand against the darkness.

Beliefs like free will and independence.

Now, as he was then, though, he did not possess the power or the knowledge needed to change things for the better.

I pray that this Anglican Church has a better view of those under their care than the Old Council did, he thought as the bodyguard on the left opened the large door.

Passing through the door his earlier suspicions were confirmed as he beheld a large domed room with an intricate arcane circle in the centre that looked like it could be reconfigured to match any desired pattern. Lamps hung from the ceiling and tables laden with various arcane resources were positioned against the walls. His eyes also informed him that there was only one other door in the chamber and that was on the left hand side. Likely it was a prep area for certain components of whatever magic was to be cast. He would even venture to say that perhaps the church was built upon an intersection of ley lines, since this would boost the power of any magic spell cast atop it.

In the middle of the room, talking with someone who looked like he'd be the one to perform the Collar spell, was none other than Archbishop Laura Stuart.

"Welcome, Sage. I was quite pleased to learn this morning that you had completed your work," Stuart said with a smile that ALMOST looked genuine. "I believe that those who had been charged with the task previously are quite jealous of you at the moment."

"I am sure that they would have managed on their own, given enough time," he said with the required level of modesty.

"Perhaps. Now, if you would turn over the results of your labor to Magus O'Conner for review, we can conclude your work," Laura said, gesturing to the man next to her.

Unzipping the bag, he reached in and took out not just his translated work but also the original material that he'd been provided with. What they hopefully wouldn't notice was the bag containing an intricately faceted piece of Smokey Quartz contained in a simple leather pouch. During his decryption and translation process, he'd done the best he could to make it read as though the quartz was a necessary part of the spell. More specifically, he did his best to word the translation so that it'd be seen as a necessary part of the reset process wherein something of value needed to be sacrificed in order to stave off the eroding effects of the Collar.

Magus O'Conner took the papers from him and, much like one of his instructors at the Watcher Academy would, the man began to scrutinize each and every page. It wasn't at a rate of speed that made him think the man was deliberately looking for a mistake just so he could tear into whoever had submitted the work, so that was something to be thankful for. Other instructors he'd had the misfortune to have at the Academy seemed to think that they wouldn't be doing their job if they didn't make it clear that there would be no compromising of standards for any reason.

"I do not say this often, young one, but you do competent work. Certainly better than the halfwits I am normally forced to accept," Magus O'Conner said with minimal warmth to his tone. "I can see nothing to make me believe that there are any errors, Archbishop. We are clear to proceed with the casting of the Collar spell."

"Then please see to the final preparations of the subject," Laura Stuart ordered, looking at the other door in the room. "Now that the rest of the spell has been decrypted and translated they can be completed with confidence."

"At once, Archbishop," Magus O'Conner said with a bow of respect before heading towards the preparation room.

"Your work has been quite exemplary, Sage. In fact I was wondering if you would be interested in moving from being a freelancer to an official member of the Necessarius," Stuart said, sounding like most recruiters. "I would be a decidedly more stable form of employment and there would be some benefits you will not find anywhere else."

"Necessarius?" he asked, hoping for clarification on something he believed to be important.

"It is a part of the Church of England whose main purpose is to neutralize and destroy magic that is a threat to the United Kingdom. As one of the more irreverent members put it, we're the magic police for the United Kingdom," Laura explained, keeping her polite tone.

So they are this reality's version of the Council, albeit focused on the United Kingdom rather than the entire world, he thought with a feeling of familiarity. Such an organization would prove useful in reuniting the scattered members of the SWC.

Still, he had concerns.

Members of an obviously covert organization were subjected to a thorough background check, with any suspicious facts potentially rejected as possible members. Given how he'd come to be in this reality, they wouldn't certainly view him with suspicion and, even if they chose not to grant him full membership, he would still qualify as a person of interest.

A jinchūriki becoming a person of interest almost never turned out for the better.

"It sounds interesting, however I am someone who enjoys his freedom," he said, deciding to politely decline the offer. "If you ever have more work, though, I am sure you know how to contact me."

"If that is your decision then I suppose I will have to abide by it," Laura said, sounding a bit disappointed. "I hope that in the future I may have the opportunity to change your mind."

"That is one of the wonderful things about the future," he said with a polite grin. "No one knows what is going to happen. Keeps things interesting."

Before more could be said the door to the preparation chamber opened, catching his attention, prompting him to focus his gaze upon it. The first person he saw was Magus O'Conner but that was not a surprise at all. What did surprise him, though he kept it from reaching the surface, was the twelve year old girl with long white hair that was restrained in a straitjacket and had her eyes covered with a leather blindfold. Guided by O'Conner's hand the child was being guided to the centre of the room and he didn't have to think for even a moment to realize who she was.

She was the subject who served as the vessel for the grimoires and would now have the Collar spell cast upon her.

"I realize that this may be inappropriate, Archbishop Stuart, but the terms of the Collar spell were specific in that something would need to be sacrificed in order to reset the erosion effects," he said, hoping that the feeling in his gut was not justified. "I find it hard to believe that someone so young would have anything that would meet this criterion."

"If we were talking about physical possessions you would be right," Laura said in measured tones that betrayed nothing. "Fortunately there is one precious thing that every person gains after the first few years of life."

Consulting his expertise in matters arcane and basic logic, he went through the various historically used tribute possibilities to find something that matched the description the Archbishop had provided.

In the end there was only one.

"You intend to offer up her memories as tribute," he said, only letting his eyes widen a bit with realization. "Given the required size of the tribute, you would need to sacrifice quite a number of them."

"Indeed we will need to sacrifice a rather large number of them to begin with but, after the initial casting, Magus O'Conner believes that we will only need a year's worth every year," Laura Stuart said without even a hint of remorse. "She would still retain full functionality but any personal memories would be lost."

So she'd be able to walk, talk and function as a normal human being but she would not know who she was save what she was told by whoever was assigned as her handler. A human being biologically but only in the loosest sense mentally, since there could be no argument that ones' personal memories formed the core of who one was. If this spell had found its way into the hands of Travers before the fall of the Old Council, or worse before Buffy had been Called as the Slayer… the fate of the eldest Summers girl would have been all the crueler. Quentin, on the other hand, would likely have been overjoyed at finding a method that would greatly aid the Old Council in controlling its chosen weapon.

In his case, though, he would likely have found the method as repulsive then as he did at that moment.

They were all but turning the snow haired girl into an organic computer hard drive with limbs that'd be able to blend into a crowd.

A PUPPET!

"Now, if you do not mind, Sage, we have work to do," Archbishop Stuart said, politely dismissing him. "A generous completion fee has been deposited into your account. Good day."

For a moment he allowed his eyes to narrow in anger at what was about to transpire but then a whisper of his old Ripper self gave him a bit of inspiration. Stone facing himself, he nodded once before turning to go back the way he came with the two bodyguards, obviously intending to escort him to the front steps.

Too bad for them he had one more thing to do before he would be leaving.

As soon as they were halfway down the hallway and he was sure that only the three of them were there, he brought both of his hands together and formed the Tiger seal. Channeling his chakra as his memories dictated, he waited until he could do so no more and immediately moved behind the two bodyguards before executing two punches right to their temples. While it was true that at the age his body was currently it didn't have much brute strength, fortunately there were places you could strike that only required a bit of strength in order to get the desired result.

In this case, one KO apiece for each bodyguard removing his minders as obstacles to what he intended to do.

They will not be out for long and if there is anyone topside who is expecting us, their absence will be noticed, he thought as he moved to enact the next step of his hastily composed plan. Dog, Boar and Ram. Henge no Jutsu!

With a puff of smoke his appearance became that of the boy he'd first seen exit the large chamber as perfectly as he could manage. The one flaw in this part of the plan was that he hadn't heard the boy's voice and neither did he know anything about the boy, both of which were needed in order to maximize the odds of a successful deception. However he didn't have time to acquire those bits of information if he wanted to tweak a few bits of information.

Best just to mumble and make it look like I forgot something, he thought as he turned to reenter the large chamber. Hopefully they will not become suspicious until long after I have left.

Pushing open the door, he could see that Magus O'Conner was busily at work preparing the room for the Collar spell but based on what he saw the man had not yet reached the point he wished to tweak. Beginning his fake 'looking for something I forgot', he began to make his way towards the table where his work rested, being sure not to move rapidly enough to attract attention. Fortunately for him the shrewd Archbishop wasn't facing his direction at the moment, since she was busy discussing something with someone over the phone.

He just hoped his good luck lasted as long as he needed it to.

Upon reaching the table that had the documents on it, he looked to see the picture of the arcane circle needed for the Collar spell and, thankfully, the part of it he needed to tweak. It was a godsend that all he needed to do was draw two short lines on that part to change the effect it'd have on the entire spell. Making it look as though he was checking under the table, he put his right hand on the top of the table, palming a pen that was the same colour as the one he'd used in his work. He looked left, then right, made a sound of disappointment and then moved to stand back up straight. As he did this, though, he quickly yet carefully made his subtle changes to the part of the arcane circle he desired. Without pause he put the pen back where it'd been before making a show of giving up, casually strolling back to the door he knew would lead to the surface.

He was almost there when his luck ran out.

"What you doing back here, Stiyl?"Laura Stuart asked, sounding mildly surprised and confused.

"Lost something," he grumbled, half turning towards the Archbishop with the look that all young boys wore when they lost something that belonged to them.

"Well, you can look for it later," Laura Stuart said with some annoyance. "We are about to do something very important. Please leave."

Moving off in a huff, he made it the rest of the way to the door and exited out into the hallway. Once the door closed behind him he waited a few more minutes before allowing his appearance to revert back to normal.

It would appear that my chakra control is improving, he thought, breathing only a little harder than normal. Still it would be best not to push my luck.

Walking calmly towards the staircase, he took it back up to the hidden entrance that would take him to the church proper. Repeating the words the bodyguard had used to open it in the first place, the stone parted for him and, once the gap was wide enough, he slipped through.

It only took a few minutes for him to once more experience the open air and with that he began to navigate his way back to his apartment. Whether they learned of his alterations or didn't, he felt it would be best if they lost track of him for a time, until he'd gained enough strength and skill to be too troublesome to confront over the change he'd made.

Shimabara, Kyuushu, Japan

Xander's POV

Looks like Giles is gonna go dark for a while, he thought as he logged out of his email account. Hope he hasn't gotten over his head.

While it was true that all of the members of the SWC that'd been displaced into this reality reported making good progress in learning the ninja way, they weren't quite at the level of Academy graduates just yet.

Not for him, at least.

In terms of physical prowess he'd managed to train his body until it was as chiseled as it was likely to get for someone of his current age without the aid of drugs or some sort of surgery. As a result, he'd pretty much gotten the physical conditioning part of his training locked in and so long as he didn't let the temptation of sweets get a foothold.

The thing that was proving to be a cast iron bitch for him to get past, though, was his chakra control. Making it was easy but putting it to use and getting the desired results was proving to be ridiculously hard. Just as Andrew had mentioned before they'd arrived at Easter Island, one of the few advantages that the team had was that, even if the enemy successfully became jinchūriki, their control would suck. According to the anime fan, virtually all of the bijuu hosts in the show had difficulty controlling the abnormal levels of chakra they possessed as a result of the trickle of tailed beast power merging with their own. Uzumaki Naruto, the hero of the show, apparently had such poor control during his Academy days that he was dead last in virtually every area.

Not enough to get expelled or anything but all too much to become the target of bullies.

I know I'm close to moving on to the tree climbing exercise but the stupid leaf just won't stay put! He walked towards the entrance of the internet café. It's teasing me but I WILL get it.

Fortunately he was making much better progress with his taijutsu and shurikenjutsu, thanks to the members of the Amakusa-Style Remix of Church. According to what he'd been told, they'd originally been connected to the Roman Catholic Church but, due to the isolationist policies of the Japanese government at the time, they were forced into hiding. Using parts of more accepted religions as a makeshift disguise, they managed to remain true to their beliefs but, as time passed, the smokescreen became so intricate that it'd become impossible to separate it from the truth. As a result, they were like a cooked meal that could no longer be separated into the original ingredients.

However, as he'd found out, this world had its supernatural elements just like his native reality and, since most benevolent religions thought it their purpose to fight the darkness, the members of the Amakusa Church learned sorcery fairly early on. They'd had to tweak the spells, of course, to work with what was available in Japan and what wouldn't set off alarms with the isolationists. In the modern day almost all their spells were performed using everyday items and bodily gestures. They also used melee weaponry and trained in unarmed combat in order to ensure they had as many options as possible to defeat that which they needed to overcome.

It was this last bit that'd helped him out the most.

It'd been when he'd reached an impasse in his taijutsu and shurikenjutsu that he'd spotted some members of the Church training in both when he made one of his deliveries for Saiji. He'd been a bit worried when the idea to approach them for help but without any other kind of option he'd gone for it. The wariness was shared on their side of things so he'd been as honest as he could be without spitting out something insane and that dispelled most of the uncertainty. After a few tests to see what he knew and learn what he wanted to do, they brightened up to helping him. From there it'd been a matter of finding someone close to his skill level at the time in taijutsu, in bladed weapons and acquiring the weapons that were the base of shurikenjutsu.

Too bad that he soon got so fast and so strong that his sparring partners quickly fell behind him eventually, resulting in only one person proving she could keep up with.

That person being the fifteen year old girl with the waist length black hair waiting for him at the entrance to the café.

Kanzaki Kaori.

Or as he preferred to call her…

"All done, Ka-Chin," he said with his usual lopsided grin. "Now let's get you back home before Taiji has half the 'family' combing the city for you."

"How many times have I told you my name's Kaori and not 'Ka-Chin'?" Kaori asked, sounding half exasperated and half annoyed.

"Dunno. I lost count after fifty," he replied after pretending to think on the matter before letting his grin come back. "Guess I'll have to start from scratch. It'll probably sink in after I hit five hundred or so."

This just got his sparring partner and friend rolling her eyes before she began to walk back towards Amakusa Church HQ. Moving quickly so that he could fall into step by her side, he internally smiled at the changes he'd managed to inspire on the supposed Saint. When he'd originally met her, she'd been this perpetual ice queen who looked like she had the weight of the world on her shoulders. Even during their initial sparring sessions, little if any emotion surfaced and, when it did, he found it to mostly be discomfort whenever a member of the Church acted like she was the Second Coming. He hadn't bothered inquiring about it until about a year ago when Kaori reacted particularly bad to how some members from several towns over treated her.

It'd been then that Taiji had filled him in after stopping him from going after Kaori.

Apparently, ever since Kaori was a child, she excelled at just about anything she set her mind to, making some people believe it was a part of gifts she possessed as a Saint. Taiji said he didn't believe this and neither did Kaori. What the latter did believe, however, was that in order for her to receive such good fortune then it had to be taken from someone else, giving that person bad luck to varying degrees. This bothered Kaori greatly since it meant that because of her people were suffering. This apparently only got reinforced when she went on missions to fight some monster or supernatural threat. She wasn't sent in solo but rather with a support team of Church members.

With her abilities, the missions almost always succeeded but they often came with a cost in the form of dead or injured support team members.

Like a normal person Kaori cared about those who fought by their side but apparently whenever she went to check on the dying or the injured, they all basically the same thing.

'It's okay if I die or get hurt so long as you're safe.'

Over and over again this was the message that Kaori got from those who suffered and died because they valued her life more than their own.

As a result Kaori began to hate luck in all its forms and hate those who spoke of it, whether it was good or bad. Most of the time the Saint managed to keep these feelings bottled up inside but, whenever someone made a particularly inflammatory comment about luck or treated her too special, this happened. Kaori could keep her composure no more and let some of her true emotions out before storming off.

He'd naturally been inclined towards trying to comfort her and maybe persuading the other members of the Church to dial back their hero worshipping ways for Kaori's sake. Unfortunately, according to Saiji, there were too many people who believed that Kanzaki Kaori to be the saviour of the Amakusa Church. Before her coming the Church had been in decline and many believed that, had she not been born, then their faith, their way of life, would have gone extinct within their lifetimes. As such Kaori's birth and growth was as close to help from the divine as they'd ever see in their lives, making their faith all the stronger.

Fanatics could rarely be convinced to restrain their shows of devotion and refused to acknowledge any facts that implied that the focus of their devotion was 'normal'.

As a result he'd promised himself right then and there to do three things.

The first was to treat Kaori like a normal teenage girl no matter how much trouble he got into with the other members of the Church.

The second was to use whatever methods were necessary in order to chip away at the Ice Queen mask she wore until her true self came to the surface.

Third and lastly, he was personally going to prove to her that there was one person who wouldn't get hurt and wouldn't die: him!

With those three goals in mind he channeled as much effort into it as he was physically and mentally capable of without passing out. When he wasn't tending to the necessary things like food, sleep and earning money, he did all he could to fulfill them. Fortunately the joint training they did together made doing all three easy and outside of that he got some pretty inventive ideas for getting things done.

Almost all of them forgivable but he was pretty sure Kaori was waiting for just the right opportunity to pay him back for the last one.

No matter how hard he tried to convince her it hadn't been his intention for it to turn out that way.

The bit of annoyance and exasperation he'd gotten out of her just now was proof that he'd managed to make some progress.

"So how long do you think Saiji's going to talk us to death this time?" he asked offhand, remembering the other times the two of them went off on their own.

As the Saint of Amakusa and Supreme Pontiff, pretty much all the senior members of the Church were mother hens where Kaori was considered. They had to know where she was at all times, often times coming up with a schedule that had to be followed and they always went ballistic when the first was impossible while the second was ignored. Naturally this was mostly because of him but there were a few times that Kaori had done so of her own volition, with him choosing not to oppose her.

"Probably only five minutes. We're not late enough for anything worse than that," Kaori replied with her nodachi Shichiten Shichitō in her dominant hand like always.

"You're probably right. Still, I gotta wonder why the guy thinks it's going to work this time when it didn't the last hundred," he said, just guessing at how many times Saiji had gotten on his case about 'distracting the Supreme Pontiff from her duties'.

"He wouldn't be a member of Amakusa if he gave up easily," she said, pointing out a defining trait of her Church.

Point.

"SOMEONE! HELP!" came a scream that cut through the usual street noise with ease.

Almost before he realized it he was running in the direction he believed that the scream had come from. You'd think that if someone worked at something long enough they'd eventually manage to shake a bad habit or personality quirk. The one that he along with the others agreed would do him a world of good to lose was his blasted White Knight Complex that had him charging into danger without knowing if he'd be able to walk away from the situation. He'd had this quirk as long as he could remember and only through luck or the help of friends had he managed to get through it in one piece. He'd see enough evidence to know that, no matter how lucky someone was, sooner or later it ran out so he'd done what he could to think things through before taking action.

To say the number of times he'd failed versus succeeded was lopsided would be like saying Buffy was short.

Whatever! I'm committed now, he thought as he turned a corner. Might as well see what's going on.

A minute later he arrived where he figured the scream had come from and what he saw got his anger engine revving. Parked in front of what looked to be some sort of storage facility was a fairly large van but it was the people who were standing next to it that were raising his internal temperature. They were dressed like your usual street toughs, five of them to be precise, but in addition to them there were three kids less than five years younger than he was physically. Two were being restrained by a strong grip on their wrists as they were being dragged towards the open rear doors of the van but the third was on the ground.

More than that, there was evidence enough that the one on the ground had been struck and even now was crying due to his current situation.

There was only one way he could respond.

"If this is what you guys think daycare is all about, then I think you need to pick up a dictionary and look at the definition again," he said, drawing the attention of the street toughs even as he popped the lid off of his thigh holster.

"Buzz off, junior," one of the toughs snarled. "This doesn't concern you."

"I'm making it my concern," he said before pulling a kunai out of its holster to show how serious he was. "You've got to the count of three to let those kids go."

The street toughs look like they couldn't believe what they'd just heard.

Then, predictably, they began laughing at the idea of someone who'd just hit his teens threatening to beat the crap out of them all.

"One."

"Look, kid, I like a good joke as much as the next guy but you're nuts," one of the street toughs said, coming down off of his laughing. "Get lost and we'll forget we ever saw you."

"Two." He began to take in the positions and weapons of each thug.

"Hey, maybe we should grab him, too," another minion suggested, sounding in favour of it. "I hear they burnt through the last batch pretty quick. They'll probably appreciate having some surplus."

"Three." He exploded into a sprint for the nearest thug.

Sparring with Kaori when she had her Odachi in hand had given him plenty of progress in closing the gap between the two of them as quickly as possible. As a result he was on his target before the guy could even finish raising his arms, allowing him to take him out quickly. He wouldn't kill the guy or even permanently injure him. All he'd do was make sure that the man couldn't finish his job or reinforce his friends. With that in mind he reached into the memories he'd gained with his younger body, specifically to do with the placement of ligaments necessary for limb movement, before lashing out with his kunai. One, two, three, four slices and he darted away to his next target.

By this point the thugs looked like they realized that they had underestimated him but he was confident that he'd have a few more moments before they got over their shock.

The next thug looked to be bringing up a knife to defend himself with but it wouldn't do him any good. A basic of kunai combat was how to deal with an opponent who had the same weapon and he was fairly certain his kunai was made of better metal than some off the shelf switchblade. Bringing up his own blade, he let it collide with the minion's weapon before quickly manipulating the deadlock, resulting in a move that let him disarm the idiot.

Then, in a move he'd long since mastered, he kicked the moron right between the legs as hard as he could. True, with the level of strength he was using there was a chance this'd affect the guy's ability to have kids, but he felt he was doing the world a favour by making sure this level of stupid wasn't passed on to the next generation. Two quick slashes to the muscles that'd allow the guy to use his arms and he disengaged so that he could move onto the third foe.

This was where things got interesting since by this point the remaining three thugs had been given enough time to bring out their weapons and get into a defensive posture. The good thing about this was that the thugs that'd been holding two of the kids let go of their prey in order to deal with him. The trio were close enough to each other that the moment he went to deal with one the other two could take him from behind if he didn't dispatch his target of the moment quickly enough.

Good thing he had faith in his backup.

Charging his latest target, he saw that the man had a lead pipe and was holding it in the right way for someone who'd spent a few months learning kendo. With the reach the pipe had, so long as the man didn't let him lock their weapons he'd be able to keep him from getting close enough for a slash.

This called for a change of tactics.

With movements born of practice, he brought back his kunai hand before letting it fly towards what looked to be the man's dominant arm. He didn't expect it to hit because he threw it hard enough to reach his target but not so fast that it would be impossible for someone with training to perceive. His intent came to pass a moment later when, predictably, the guy with the pipe used it to parry the blade off to the side. With the weapon out of position, though, he had an opening and moved as swiftly as he could to take full advantage of it. Gripping the man's right wrist, he immobilized before swinging his left leg hard at the back of the closest knee. With this sudden disruption of balance the man looked like he'd fall with just a little more effort. Shifting his position, he placed a second hand on the arm seized by the first before executing an over the shoulder throw that slammed the guy into the asphalt.

Hearing rapid footsteps behind him, he looked over his shoulder to see the two remaining thugs rushing him. Releasing his grip on the man at his feet, he prepared to turn to face them but his faith was rewarded. All while keeping her nodachi sheathed, Ka-chin still wielded it with prodigy level skill, allowing her to strike first at their weapon arms before slamming the sheathed tip into the bottom of their jaws. One proved to be more resilient then the other since he managed to remain on his feet despite the power behind the blow but a second one did the trick sending the street tough to la-la-land.

"Well, I know I feel a lot better right now," he said, looking about and seeing no more threats. "Now let's get these kids back to their parents and call up the cops to haul these guys away."

"On what charge?" Kaori asked, returning her weapon to its normal resting position.

"Um…kidnapping and assaulting a child, of course," he replied like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "None of these kids looked like they wanted to go with these guys and one of them hit a kid hard enough to knock him to the ground. No way is this legit."

"Maybe not but don't think that just because you tore these fuckers a new ass that you've won," came a new voice from the building the van was parked in front of.

As the off the cuff partners they now were, they both looked at the newcomer to find a man in a rose red leisure suit and hair that was completely shaved on the sides but grown long on the top. Honestly he looked like a street gang member that'd somehow gotten promoted into the mafia, finely tailored suit and all. Too bad no one had told the idiot that he had to turn in his piercings and get a proper haircut. Still, if his sense of fashion was any indicator, he was the top dog of this operation.

"Two against one are odds that don't favour you," he said, trying to get the measure of the man. "Personally I'd cut my losses and take my act to the next city. As much as I think you're a piece of shit for kidnapping children, I'm not going to chase you all over Japan."

"Yeah, well, PERSONNALLY, two bugs who face off against one flamethrower are going to get ashed no matter what," the gang boss said, sounding completely confident in how things would turn out. "So unless you want to be added to my quota, you should toddle on home for your apple juice and cookies."

"I appreciate your point," he said as his hand covertly reached into his thigh holster. "Now here's MINE."

With that he threw a trio of shuriken at the man, aiming for his stomach and both shoulders.

The man just grinned more.

Without warning the air in front of the man shimmered like the distortion you'd see above a scorching hot desert road. However, when the shuriken came into contact with it, they vanished like they'd been sent to another dimension or something. Just as he made the decision to look to see if they'd been displaced nearby, three sharp spikes of pain lit up his back. So surprised by this was he that he stumbled forward but, while in pain, his strength was not so weakened that he couldn't remain standing. Looking over his shoulder, he was surprised to see two shuriken very much like the ones he'd thrown sticking out of his back.

"How?" he asked no one in particular.

"Fuckin' awesome, isn't it?!" the gang boss asked rhetorically. "Turns out those years I spent in Academy City weren't a complete waste of time after all."

Academy City? He'd heard of that place. Did that mean-?

"The fuckin' nerds there called it 'Heat Distortion'," the gang boss explained, sounding all too happy to do a tell all. "I mess up the air in front of me and anything coming my way goes where I want it to. Gotta tell you, I feel pretty damn untouchable!"

So it is basically the esper equivalent of a space-time ninjutsu, he thought as his mind went to work constructing a strategy. Without knowing the specifics, beating this guy is going to rely as much on luck as skill.

Good thing he'd been known to have both from time to time.

Kanzaki Kaori's POV

"No one is untouchable," she stated, her mind falling into the focus that she used in her training. "For every person there is a wall that they cannot climb, an opponent they cannot defeat, and for those who forsake training, defeat is inevitable."

If it was true that this man could distort space and redirect incoming attacks to strike those who executed them, a frontal assault was out of the question. She might not know if it was necessary for an object to go all the way through to exit the distortion field for it to be redirected but, unless the distortion could protect the man from every angle, they just needed to get around it.

She had just the technique for that.

Performing the move just as her instructors had told her, she unsheathed Scichiten Shichitou before calling forth the wires connected to it directing them to shoot out to precise points. In less than three seconds the gang boss was completely surrounded by her wires, making it so that if he tried to move more than half a foot in any direction he would bleed.

She did not intend to give him a choice.

He'd hurt Xander and, if it was true that he was in charge of abducting children, then he was scum. She'd already completed the first half of Nanasen by encircling him with razor sharp wires and, with a flick of her finger, she can cause the wires to vibrate. Just like the strings on a guitar she can pluck them and, if done right, half a foot would be easy enough to cross. According to what she'd learned about the espers of Academy City, many of them required focus in order to use their powers.

Disrupt that focus and they became ordinary people capable of being defeated like all her previous sparring partners previous to Xander.

However, before her fingers could reach the wires attached to her weapon, a distortion wave flowed in a circle around the man, cutting her wires as it went until all her work was undone. True, the filaments were long enough that she could try again but it would be a waste of time since the man already knew how to overcome it.

"Interesting move, bitch, but you didn't really think I was going to just stand here and take it, did you?" the man asked rhetorically before chuckling like a thug.

She had. She'd been counting on the surprise generated by her wires encircling him to give her the time to pluck them in order to finish Nanasen. Did this mean that the man was made of sterner stuff than she'd originally though or was he simply so full of himself that he truly believed he couldn't lose? In any case, she had just learned something important. The man couldn't generate a dome of distortion to cut all her wires at once. All he could do was produce a pane of distortion before revolving it around his body to cut through the wires. It did imply that if they could force enough of the man's focus in one direction an attack from the rear might well be possible.

Assuming that the man couldn't create two distortion panes at the same time that is.

"Shall we see how he is with multi-tasking?" Xander asked, having pulled the last of the shuriken from his back.

"Are you sure it's safe to do that?" she asked, worried that he might bleed out or at least leak enough of the red liquid to reduce his physical prowess.

"Don't worry. I'm a fast healer," he replied, not sounding worried in the least. "Besides, if we end this quickly enough, we'll have plenty of time to get patched up."

"Ah, you're right," the man said as though he was just remembering something important. "The boss'll be mad if we're late with the shipment. Guess I'll have to wrap things up quicker. Too bad since I just LOVE putting wannabe heroes like you in your place."

"If all you've got is the power to send our own weapons back at us, I don't see that happening," Xander said, not sounding too worried.

"Who said that the only way Heat Distortion can be used is redirecting projectiles?" the man asked with a feral and slightly manic grin.

Before she could figure out the truth her footing was lost but it was not like her legs had been swept out from under her or that the ground had become so smooth that friction was reduced. She lost her footing because all of a sudden the ground was no longer there and of all places she found herself high above where she'd last been.

In other words she was airborne and falling quickly to the ground below.

Surprising but not something beyond my capabilities to handle, she thought as the ground rushed up to meet her.

Indeed, all she needed to do was cast her wires to the edge of the rooftops surrounding where she'd been and use them to decelerate herself to the ground safely.

Too bad she was having a bit of trouble moving her weapon arm at the moment.

And her empty arm.

And her legs.

In fact she was having trouble commanding any significant movement from any of her limbs. They'd been perfectly fine a moment ago, so logic would dictate that something had happened in the last ten seconds to interfere with her sovereignty over her own body. The only thing that came to mind was whatever the gang boss had done to put her up in the air. His esper ability was the likely culprit, implying that passage through his distortion panes induced a near paralytic condition on living things. How long it would last didn't really matter at the moment since she doubted she'd regain the use of her arms soon enough to save herself from this fall.

Fortunately it looked like she wouldn't have to.

Below her a familiarly coloured mass was leaping from wall to wall at high speeds, crossing distances that would be impossible for ordinary humans no matter how developed their muscles were.

That meant it could only be Xander.

As her friend reached the top of the buildings they were about equal in altitude so, with one final full power push, he leapt off the wall, tackling her from the side. Now with her course redirected it wasn't long before the two of the impacted on the rooftop oppose the wall Xander had pushed off from, with him taking most of the impact. Skidding on the abrasive surface, she could easily picture the back of his shirt being shredded along with his back, leading to a bleeding mess that'd only add to the pre-existing damage done by his shurikens. When the momentum finally wore out Xander gently pushed her off of him, grunting in pain as a result of the wounds on his back.

"Well… that worked out… more or less… like I planned…" he grunted, sounding like he had after one of their early sparring sessions.

He'd fought with determination but lacked the experience and skill to keep up with her.

Plus it was apparently his style to 'trash talk' with his enemy in an effort to provoke them into reckless behaviour that, if he survives, he can exploit to his benefit.

She had to wonder how long that tactic would allow him to live.

"You okay, Ka-chin?" Xander asked, using that infernal nickname he'd invented for her.

"My name is Kanzaki Kaori. Not Ka-chin," she replied even as she tested to see if she could force her body to obey through willpower, "and I'm fine for the most part. Whatever that man's distortion field does passing through it has left me immobilized for now. I'm pretty sure it's only temporary but I have no idea how long it'll take to get back to normal."

"Then I guess I'll get to find out what it's like to carry you bridal style sooner rather than later," he joked even as he pushed himself into a sitting position.

"Try it and I'll kick your ass as soon as I'm physically able to," she threatened in a tone she knew he'd take seriously.

"So…unh…basically same old, same old," he said as he rolled over to his hands and knees before crawling back in the direction they'd come from.

It didn't take a genius to figure out what he wanted to do: he wished to know if the gang leader was still there or if he'd fled during the rescue. Putting her in harm's way was an effective distraction and, since criminals almost never cared for their comrades, the man would only need to get in the van, reacquire the kids that'd fled and then go to his destination. Enough time had passed for that to happen and neither of them were fit to pursue at the moment, so odds are the evil man would be long gone by the time they recovered.

Still, when they got back to the Church, she would inform the elders.

If there was some sort of kidnapping operation occurring in Shimabara rather than just one a one-time event, then something needed to be done about it.

"That bastard! That coldhearted bastard!" Xander growled angrily from the edge of the rooftop.

"What's wrong?" she asked, concerned about what her friend was seeing.

"The bastard killed his own men. Slit their throats!" Xander replied, sounding furious at the idea of someone murdering their allies. "He could've put them in the van or rescued them later from police custody but he just killed them instead! Asshole!"

It didn't take a genius to figure out what Xander would do once his wounds healed up enough: He'd want to lead the hunt for these kidnappers and personally be the one to put the gang leader in handcuffs. This was not an alien feeling for her and she too felt the desire to redeem herself from this dismal failure. She hated being a Saint. She hated being the Supreme Pontiff of Amakusa. But she took pride in the skills they taught her and the good she could do with them. The leader of the thugs had defeated her and made it look easy.

That could not be allowed to pass without retaliation!