Chapter 14: The Man They Called Flügel

Lelouch did not hesitate to pump his body full of Yang mana, uttering the spell to strengthen his body thrice in succession, using the Al-syllable to force a stronger effect. His Gate felt like it would crack. So was his mind.

Despite the time he had to calm down, calm was anything but definitely not what he was feeling. The sheer fury that coursed through his body could only be contained for a short time. A mask, the doting and melancholic brother drowned in nostalgia. The fact that he was able to speak at least slightly more about his curse to Roswaal and Emilia, perhaps due to the diary's effect, was shoved aside into a compartment and thrown into the deepest pits of his mind.

When his eye caught Rem sneaking near him as he kept using magic, no doubt exaggerating the effect of the Witch's Smell, he didn't stop. At least that meant she was alive, which would be a help if Betelgeuse was already in his room. The change from calling Pandora might lead to circumstances in which he had to take his own life again. He couldn't keep Pandora and Roswaal in the loop to the point where the information he had became corrupted from his own mistakes.

There was no way he would win right now. The sheer amount of hands that the Archbishop was able to create would be able to block anything Lelouch was capable of right now except perhaps the spell of Sloth that he wasn't able to cast. Even then, the Archbishop might be immune to the power of his authorities' origin.

What Lelouch needed was a weakness. The man was stark raving mad, which was a point Lelouch could attack. Mentions of the witch, references to the gospel, perhaps even the Witch of Sloth's name. If Flügel had created a spell that sealed the Witch of Envy, then perhaps that spell was in the diary, capable of halting the authority of Sloth.

Opening the door, Lelouch grabbed the sword that Felt had given him from beside the door and took a quick step forward. The sudden surge of his magically enhanced body allowed him to reach about half of the room before the figure turned around.

Only it wasn't Betelgeuse standing there. Dressed in the same robes, holding the same manic stare in her eyes, it was a young woman. In her hands was the gospel, the same one, Lelouch could tell, and arms growing out of her back.

But Lelouch didn't hesitate despite the change of face. He swung the sword as well as he could, untrained in any form, and managed to cut through three of the arms before the other three grabbed him, smashing him into the bed, almost snapping his spine in the process. Unfortunately, the female Archbishop did not decide to be as gentle as Clarissa Barielle and instead opted in on treating him like the young noble's father did.

The Yang magic slowly left his body, the strain of keeping him stronger and more durable came with the backlash of keeping too much mana to function properly afterward. Rem's flail came through the door, slamming into a wall of hands that stopped it.

"How cowardly," the young woman's voice echoed through the suddenly quiet room. "To attack me from behind as I was about to introduce myself! Ah… how slothful, truly."

Lelouch gritted his teeth, the hands lifting him off the bed, the sword falling from his hands as his body slackened. "I don't believe an introduction is necessary, Archbishop."

"Oho? You know who I am? Truly? It is an honor! An honor, to meet someone so utterly loved! Ahhh, the smell, it pierces my nose and it lets my brain tremble!"

The dark hands gathered around the entire room, keeping Rem from entering. The chain on her flail was cut, and the steel ball fell down. The Archbishop was bending her back, holding her head until she touched the window she stood in front of. Lelouch grimaced.

"Indeed," Lelouch said. "A love like no other."

The words left his mouth as if he was spitting out poison, yet the Archbishop's grip lessened. The unseen hands dragging Lelouch towards her. The Archbishop began to sniff on him. Lelouch felt uncomfortable.

"So much love," she whispered. "But there is that stench that won't go. A disgusting, nasty little thing, attached so closely. Ahhhh, rejector of love, have you finally accepted her into your heart? Have you finally decided to love her as much as she does you?"

"Yes," Lelouch said curtly. If he could stab her in the back, it would solve a lot of his problems. He could arrange the same situation without alerting Roswaal or Rem, or share any details about his curse with Emilia and Russell. "I've been waiting for you, Archbishop. Excuse my earlier attack, I had to check if you really had it."

"Had what?" the crazed lady asked.

"The gospel, the authority," Lelouch said. "Pretenders have been going around-"

"Ah! I see, I see! The gospel, of course!"

The gospel was on eye level with Lelouch now as the Archbishop slowly let him down. Through the hands were still holding him tightly, he was standing on his own feet now. Were all Archbishops this high strung?

"Let me introduce myself!" the Archbishop shouted. "I am the Archbishop of Sloth! Betelgeuse Romani-Conti!"

Lelouch grimaced. That made no sense. Betelgeuse was a pale and insane man whose eyes were almost falling out of their sockets, not a woman who looked barely twenty years old with red hair flowing down to her shoulders. Lelouch needed to know why.

"Wasn't the Archbishop Betelgeuse a man?" Lelouch asked.

"Ah, of course, I had expected you to know considering you met that treacherous Roswaal," Betelgeuse said, her lips twitching into a snarl. "Some of our group have the ability to transfer their memories into a suitable host. After my head was slapped off, I was forced to take another. The Pontiff was very angry today. Very angry indeed."

Pontiff? Perhaps Pandora.

"Roswaal has done the same?" Lelouch asked, feeling rather disturbed by the revelation. The man seemed to have an agenda, of course, but then again, everyone did. The fact that he had an ability that Betelgeuse seems to consider Witch Cult exclusive made his sponsorship of Emilia look… different, in hindsight.

"Every Roswaal has been Roswaal," Betelgeuse said, being very, very open with Lelouch. The amount of stench gathered around him from his earlier fury must've removed any kind of common sense from the Archbishop's mind. Lelouch reworked his plans. Roswaal mustn't ever learn of anything involving himself.

"Then perhaps we should pay that traitor a visit?" Lelouch asked. "Make him pay?"

"What a marvelous plan!" Betelgeuse shouted. "But I mustn't! I was to be quick! The Pontiff threatened me with another death should I not hurry-"

The room suddenly changed. Instead of the guest room, Lelouch felt as if he was being thrown around and suddenly stood in the middle of the library, the arms still around him as the Archbishop turned around, staring at Roswaal, Beatrice, Rem, Ram, and Emilia. Puck was not there.

Rem had a horn sprouting out of her forehead.

"I apologize for the inconvenience, I don't know how he came through my defenses," Roswaal said to Lelouch. Lelouch's eyebrows twitched. He. Not her. Roswaal knew? Perhaps he wanted Lelouch to know, or it was a slip of the tongue. Lelouch didn't care, and instead muttered a spell again, strengthening his body. He was feeling weak already, but the magic allowed him to break free of the loosened restraints and grabbed the gospel from the surprised Archbishop's hand. Taking a step back, he made a dagger and held it over the book.

"What? What?! WHAT?! But how how how how how-"

The woman's rantings were cut off when a fireball nearly took her head. The hands appeared around him and threw it off course. Beatrice snuffed the flame out with a flick of her wrist.

"I don't want to help you," Beatrice said, looking at Lelouch. The former emperor looked pale, sweating, out of breath from the repeated use of magic that was above his level. "I'm doing it because Puck asked me to, I suppose."

So Puck, despite his obvious hostility, asked Beatrice to help him out in case he needed it? Lelouch might just go buy him a bunch of cookies for that next loop. First, he had to test something out.

"If I see one more hand coming from you," Lelouch said. "I will destroy your gospel."

The woman's eyes widened, a look of disgust and fury mixing on her face. "You deceitful monster! Liar-"

"Shut up," Lelouch said. "I want to know something. Answer me, and you can have it back."

"Lelouch!" Roswaal shouted, sounding confused.

"Why does Pandora want Flügel's diary? To free the witch?"

The woman's face turned into an unhealthy shade of purple, and Lelouch slowly brought the dagger closer to the book. Nobody was moving, not even Roswaal.

Betelgeuse looked ready to talk. Lelouch could see it in her eyes, her mouth opening and closing repeatedly. But rather than words, all that came out of her was blood. The red liquid ran down her eyes and nose, then a stream of it came from her mouth, reaching the carpet, staining it into a shade of dark red.

Then her head flew off. Lelouch snapped, throwing the gospel onto the ground and throwing the dagger after it, piercing the pages of the book. Roswaal stared at him.

"How did you do that?" Roswaal asked.

"Did… what?" Lelouch countered, grabbing his chest as the exhaustion became too much for his body.

"Destroy a gospel," Roswaal said, sounding twice as crazed as he had back when Lelouch mentioned Pandora's name. "They can't just be destroyed, they must be purified first by- of course. You're him, aren't you?"

"I am who?" Lelouch asked through grit teeth.

"They called you Emperor, of course you'd be one!" Roswaal shouted. "Of course, the man they called Flügel would be an emperor in another world before returning!"

"Shut up," Lelouch said, grabbing the dagger from the book. Emilia stared at him, concern in her eyes, but Rem and Ram looked at him as if he was a threat while Beatrice looked more than bored with the entire situation. "I don't care what you or Crusch Karsten think. I don't care if there's some magic diary that tries to tell me the story of people I have no relation to."

Lelouch felt angry with himself. His weakness. The fact that he was unable to take care of a problem without being saved by a man that apparently has been taking over the bodies of his descendants for four-hundred years. Furthermore, he felt angry that he was no step closer to destroying the Witch Cult. The head exploding here just meant that Betelgeuse would find a new body.

"The only thing I care about is my sister and my friends because that's the kind of person I am," Lelouch said, glaring at the headless body on the ground. "Not an emperor or a prince, not a revolutionary."

He raised the dagger and stabbed himself in the chest, leaving a hole as the mana dissipated and vanished the dagger. He didn't even hear the cries of shock over the plans that his mind was going over. That was the kind of person Lelouch Lamperouge is. Someone who would destroy the world for his sister. Someone who would destroy the world to keep the people he loves safe. Kallen and C.C. would probably break him to stop him from doing something this stupid all the time.

###

Lelouch stumbled into the dining room with a schooled smile on his face. When Rem stormed in, no doubt alarmed about the stench that came from his ever worsening mood, Lelouch dodged by rolling forward, and Roswaal, seeing that his guest was not in danger did not block the flail that went by him by mere centimeters.

"Rem!" Roswaal shouted. The girl was returning her flail with her chain, still glaring at Lelouch who sat down on a seat rather than turn to her. "Stand down, now!"

"But-"

"Not buts!" Roswaal interrupted her. "Follow my orders or leave my mansion!"

"Please," Lelouch interrupted. "There's no need to worry. I'm sure I know what this is about."

Roswaal turned to Lelouch, confused yet intrigued. Rem looked confused too, yet without letting the hostile glare slip one bit. The dining hall was quiet for a moment before Ram came in, looking at her sister as she trained an arm towards Lelouch. The former emperor had the best fake smile on his face since he pretended to enjoy playing dress up with Millie.

"It seems I've been marked for the hunt by the Witch Cult," Lelouch lied, giving no indication of worry. "The mabeasts were only stopped by the magic that surrounded your domain, I assume, but they seem to have an incredible appetite for me."

Roswaal didn't look convinced, neither did Rem.

"I suppose that makes sense about why the smell is all around you," Roswaal said, lying as well. "Have you run in with any of them?"

"Yes, a rather nasty woman," Lelouch admitted. "I don't know her name, but the Archbishop that was with her called her Pontiff."

"Pontiff?" Roswaal asked. "Nasty?"

He seemed more confused that those two terms would go together. A small grin made Lelouch feel as if his impression just improved in Roswaal's eyes.

Lelouch wanted to 'win' this loop. He had the information he needed, a weakness in the Archbishop's presence. If it was the gospel that allowed them to use the authority, then destroying it might make them weaker. It might not prevent them from taking over another body when they die, but from Betelgeuse's own admission, not everyone was capable of that anyway.

The Witch had perhaps her own gospel that could make someone an Archbishop of Vainglory should she die. He would have to find out more about that.

Right now he needed Roswaal as an ally. Someone who knew more about the Witch Cult than they let on, and someone who had the knowledge of Flügel if he had been living for the past four-hundred years.

Roswaal's sponsorship made the situation difficult. What had he to gain from Emilia? If he was no longer a member of the Witch Cult, then that meant he wouldn't worry about reviving the Witch of Envy anymore. Perhaps it's to protect Emilia?

Lelouch was still unclear on Emilia's role in the Witch Cult's plans, another mystery to solve later.

Raising his hands in a placating gesture, attempting to diffuse the situation, Lelouch spoke up again.

"Perhaps it would be better to discuss this at dinner if your maids would be willing to join us," Lelouch said. Roswaal nodded curtly. Lelouch's smile turned into a grin. Hook.

###

When Emilia was seated and Puck began glaring at Lelouch, the situation at the table was still tense. A few minutes later, Russell joined them, sitting down across the half-elf, who was sitting two chairs to the right from Lelouch. Ram and Rem stood behind Roswaal, who was seated at the head of the table.

"Ah, Russell Fellow, I've been meaning to talk to you about something," Lelouch said. Roswaal was whispering with Emilia, trying to get her to calm down, while Puck was still keeping a critical eye on the one that smelled like the Witch of Envy.

"About what? And please, just call me Russell, I've heard quite some stories about you in the capital," Russell offered. Lelouch nodded.

"Then please call me Lelouch," he said. "You're without a doubt aware that I'm rather interested in the study of magic, and have thus gathered a small collection of books that would help me with it. Due to my affinity, I've been unable to find some of the more esoteric books."

"Yang, of course, a rare one," Russell said. Roswaal turned to them, being done with Emilia.

"If you were willing to negotiate with our resident librarian, you might get some books out of her," Roswaal suggested jokingly. From what Lelouch knew of Beatrice, it was doubtful he would be able to get anything out of her if he didn't use Puck somehow. Lelouch shook his head at the margrave.

"Perhaps another time," Lelouch said, turning back to Russell. "I've been lucky enough to come into the possession of a rather peculiar book, a white diary that was hard to translate."

"You wish to translate it and bring it to the market?" Russell asked. Roswaal didn't know the diary existed, so he was confused. At least Puck's suspicious glare became a rather meager glower when Lelouch made it clear that wasn't a gospel.

"No, the spells inside it are rather… peculiar. Not all can be used, and those that can might be too dangerous in the wrong hands. But there is a rather interesting spell that might be of use to you and everyone in Lugnica."

"What spell would that be?" Russell asked, leaning forward on the table. The food was getting cold. Only Puck was eating.

"Something that helps everyone?" Emilia asked, sounding excited about the prospect.

"It's a communication spell, similar to the metia I've heard about. I believe it should be enough to contact people in the capital even from here."

"The… Mandillia spell?" Roswaal asked. Lelouch's grin widened. Line.

"Oh, you know about it?" Lelouch asked.

"It's been mentioned in the diaries of my ancestors," Roswaal lied. Lelouch now knew that he was aware of it because he lived during the time of its creation. "It's a spell that the metia were built upon, nobody knows how to use it themselves! Even the metia don't have the sheer range of it-"

"So such a spell would be expensive," Emilia muttered. Lelouch glanced towards her, shaking his head.

"I wouldn't want to rob the people on the streets with a spell that could save lives," Lelouch said. "Imagine the ability to call upon the guards and knights of Lugnica whenever a crime is witnessed, or perhaps the ability to speak with relatives who are too far. I feel like a spell like this should be public property. I also believe that a spell like that would allow efforts against the Witch Cult to be very successful."

"Of- of course," Russell said, excitedly. Roswaal stared at Lelouch as if trying to figure him out, and failing. "The profits that could be made just by using the spell rather than selling it! It would save the knights' yearly budget for communication metia by one-hundred percent!"

Lelouch imagined the people that produced communication metias would be less that happy, but from what he could gather, they were mostly imported, which means that there were barely any taxes from their sales going into the treasury of Lugnica, nor any discounts for the knights.

"Money that could be used to train more soldiers and equip them, I imagine," Lelouch said. Emilia looked happy. Puck smiled. Lelouch felt weird pretending that he was doing something good for goodness' sake. "And that is why I was marked for the hunt, I assume."

"What?" Puck asked.

"The Witch Cult is worried," Lelouch lied. "I don't know how they learned of it, someone in the capital must have heard me talk about it and reported to them."

"So the smell of the Witch around you is marking you as a target?" Puck asked. Emilia looked confused, while Russell looked more worried that his gold mine might be killed. "It doesn't sound like their usual methods."

"Perhaps so, you could go and ask Lady Karsten if she noticed the smell on me before I left the capital. It seems to have appeared after I met a woman-"

"It might be better if we don't talk about certain things here," Roswaal interrupted. Lelouch shrugged, smiling apologetically before glancing at the maids. Ram looked convinced, Rem didn't. Roswaal knew he was lying but couldn't call him out on it without drawing suspicion to himself. And if he dared, Lelouch could threaten him with the knowledge of his body-snatching.

"Of course, public knowledge of such a spell might end up with more organized criminals as well," Lelouch said. "Which is why I would like to suggest a more limited approach to spreading the spell. Giving it to people who have been thoroughly checked for any ties to the Witch Cult, past or present. Of course, only people capable of magic would be able to use that spell."

"And the Witch Cult has many trained mages…" Russell muttered. "Then perhaps only the knights?"

"That would defeat the purpose of giving the common citizens means to help. So how about you instead hand out the metia that are in possession of the knights to the common folk? They are paid for and of no use."

"And you would get nothing?" Russell asked. Lelouch nodded.

"Nothing but the appreciation of the people and perhaps the knights," Lelouch said. A sign of weakness - care about what others think of him. It would make him seem more human in the eyes of someone as shrewd as Russell, and perhaps less dangerous in the eyes of the ancient spirit known as Puck.

"Of course, the Witch Cult is probably trying to prevent me from doing that, and I would rather not give you the details of the spell unless we're within the castle walls, discussing this with the elder council."

"You want me to handle the in between before you swoop in and take the fame, eh?" Russell asked, smiling. Lelouch smiled back.

"I assumed we would share it, an agreement between 'the Golden' and the treasury of the crown."

"That sounds wonderful," Emilia said, clapping her hands together. "So many people could be helped with that magic!"

"Of course, it's why I'm doing it," Lelouch admitted freely. Step by step to keep the people in his world safe. To keep his sister safe. "Of course, I'm worried that I might be attacked soon-"

"Don't worry about such things, my mansion is the safest place you could be in my domain," Roswaal said. Lelouch wanted to scoff but stopped himself. "If you'd prefer to continue our conversations after eating, please come to my study. Right now, it seems that the lady and her spirit wish to talk to you."

"What? Ah!" Emilia made a noise in surprise. "Yes, Sir Lamperouge, I wanted to thank you for saving my life!"

"Please call me Lelouch," Lelouch said. That was all he had to do right now. Keep Roswaal on his side by making Emilia his friend, and have a friend in the castle by getting into Russell's good graces. "I'd prefer if we could consider each other friends, as I do with Lady Felt."

If he couldn't show neutrality by simply removing himself from the selection as a whole, then he would have to do what Crusch Karsten would. By being friends with everyone, he couldn't favor anyone. Of course, such a thing was in a more precarious balance than keeping a distance, but it also meant he could gain more from it.

Such as support in hunting down the Witch Cult, snuffing them out one by one. If he planned to do something like that, there was no doubt that he needed someone like Crusch Karsten to support such an agenda. While he didn't know what kind of person Anastasia Hoshin was, Lelouch assumed that she was similar to Russell from the way she has been described.

The only person Lelouch couldn't see himself get along with was Priscilla.

She was just too similar to his brothers.

Lelouch wasn't a fan of the feeling of approval that came from the Witch that took interest in him. Or maybe it was a feeling of jealousy. For some reason, he couldn't tell the difference.

###

Lelouch didn't wave off the favors that Emilia and Puck wanted to give him, instead saying that if he ever needs them, he would contact them. Right after eating, Lelouch went to read.

The pages after Sekhmet left were still blank, which meant that there was some kind of trigger he didn't know to reveal more pages. Nothing that would help him destroy the gospel without repeating the earlier steps of earning his trust and wait until Beatrice would transport them. Lelouch wanted to take care of that problem himself, however. Roswaal mustn't see everything.

Being desperate didn't reveal the pages. Feigning friendliness didn't. The Witch felt calmer when hearing the stories of the diary, so if Flügel and her had actually been husband and wife, and she was eventually sealed by him, the Dragon and the Sword Saint, she might become angry the further the book goes on.

What made her like that?

It was a stray thought, yet Lelouch felt he had to ask. The book didn't budge. No, perhaps she's always had a jealous streak. Perhaps the Witch of Sloth had always been incredibly lazy. There was something else.

Lelouch flipped through the pages until he found it.

The box. The box that she wouldn't show Flügel. He respectfully didn't ask about it, didn't continue to write about it. Something about the box-

The pages moved. Near the end of the diary, writing appeared.

"I've learned a trick from a really greedy woman," Flügel wrote. "It's awkward to use, and it cost me all my books, but I had nothing else to offer and I knew them all by heart. There are two ways for the soul to live on after death."

Lelouch wasn't sure how that related to the box, but if Roswaal's trick was here, or perhaps information about his own ability, then it could prove beneficial.

"The first way is to become a spirit," Lelouch read aloud. "The second is to let someone inherit your genes. If skilled enough, one may attempt to do both."

Genes? DNA? A soul bound to something physical, perhaps. While Lelouch wasn't religious, the concept of the soul by atheist and theist philosophists has been discussed in great length, and Lelouch read all about it. If these 'genes' in this case were the manifestation of someone's soul that didn't become a spirit, then they could be inherited like normal genes with children.

Besides that description, nothing was revealed. No spell, no information. The pages flipped back, revealing a page after Sekhmet left.

"Satella has been using magic," Flügel wrote. "I don't know why, but it feels wrong. Similar to Sekhmet's magic, it's strong, but compared to the lazy woman, Satella can't control it. It's worked on something that might hold the magic for a while, it only works for a few seconds. I might be able to seal more of it with practice."

It couldn't be that easy, of course not. Flügel's magic was as varied in application as it was in adverse effects. If he could stop the hands for just a few seconds and steal the gospel, that would help immensely.

"The only disadvantage was that it stopped me from using magic as long as I held it on her," Flügel said. "I keep telling her to stop practicing, but she won't. Whenever I come back home, I find destroyed items left and right, tainted by her magic."

Satella was quiet. Too quiet.

The feeling of accomplishment. Or jealousy. Or happiness. Or envy. Or love. Or bitterness.

The pages in front of Lelouch flickered, giving him another magical circle. The hands of the witch squeezed his chest and reached out to touch the book. It began to burn.

Lelouch acted quickly, creating a dagger and stabbing himself. It took a while for him to bleed out as his blood flowed weakly from the witch's grip.

###

When Lelouch opened eyes, he was standing in the guest room, a burning book in hand.

The Witch was laughing like a playful child that got the attention of its parent by being naughty. Lelouch quickly put the fire out, but a lot of the pages towards the end were burned, but not the page with the circle that could stop Witch magic for a few seconds.

The incantation was long. Lelouch began to memorize the strange syllables. The Witch didn't want him to read it before, but hadn't burned it. Whatever was in the last pages was something she didn't want him to learn. Something that might relate to his ability to return by dying.

Lelouch created the circle for the Mandillia spell and the suppression one, branding them over his arm. The Witch just became a foil in his plans. Someone that would easily move his point of return forward as she liked. He would have to be more careful now.