The Simulacrum

~Chapter 152~ Part 2

They say that time flies in good company. I was always in good company, which explained why a couple of hours disappeared down the drain like it was nothing.

Okay, that was being a bit over-dramatic; it wasn't time wasted by any means, but it wasn't anything big either. About half an hour after their sparring session began, my sisters also arrived. Penny was part of our 'training' after all, while Snowy was just tagging along, as usual. It was around this time that Roland also came around, so I quickly ditched the task of overseeing Josh's and Angie's training regimen to him, while Morgana took care of my knightly sister.

Like this, I was mostly just watching the guys on the training grounds duking it out, peppered with various sagely advice from their instructors.

"Angeline." Like that. Next to a row of scorched lines on the floor, Roland was currently scowling at the Celestial girl, and she was doing her best to make herself look small and pitiful. "What did I tell you about watching your aim?"

"B-But I did! Look, the arrow hit Petra!" She frantically gestured at the golem with a slowly disintegrating golden magic arrow as thick as my thumb sticking out of its head. "See?"

"Then what about these?"

Roland's scowl was getting close to an outright glare, and she shrunk back again.

"I… It was Grandpa Deus's fault!" She suddenly froze up and hissed. "N-No, I'm not shifting the blame! You said you could do it!"

From the sound of it, they were maybe trying to do some kind of division-of-labour kind of thing, where Angie was focusing on the bow and mobility, while Deus was using her mouth to sing some spells. That would've been really smart if they would've just stuck to some buffs or hindered the target, but Deus didn't seem to know (or want to use) anything other than big, flashy area-of-attack spells.

"Hyah!"

In comparison, Josh on the other side of the field was doing pretty well for himself. Hiding his upper body behind the magitech shield, he blocked the stony fist coming his way with a solid clank. It staggered him for a moment, but he quickly regained his footing and readied his shield again. I told him that he should familiarize himself with using a shield in combat, and he did exactly that, tirelessly repeating this process. He was getting better at dissipating incoming force, and all the humming he did told me he was probably buffing himself, or using one of those healing arias he was so proud of a while back to recover his stamina.

Either way, it wasn't a riveting sight, but he was making slow yet steady progress. Even in the absence of his girlfriend, who was still being scolded by Roland. As for the third participant of this training exercise though, she was doing some rather peculiar things.

"Penelope, dear. I still don't think you're suited to this."

Despite Morgana's reasonable words, my sister remained steadfast and raised her weapon over her head. In her hands was a training sword usually reserved for the Fauns; its wide blade alone was nearly two-thirds as long as she was tall, with two fullers running down its length, ending at the simple cross-guard. We never checked, but by eye, I'd have said it weighed at least five kilos, and while it looked fine in the hands of Karukk or Hrul, it appeared extremely unwieldy when held by my little sister. And yet, she insisted on using it.

"But you're also using a flamberge!" she whined even as she swung the blade, and while it didn't quite disrupt her posture, it was easy to tell that she was straining to do it.

"Yes, but I've been training with it since I was young," Morgana tried to counter, but it only made Penny double down.

"I'm young! I can learn it!" She flashed a daredevil grin, and then lifted the blade again, holding it vertically so that the flat of the blade was in front of her face. "Hm… I wonder if we have something heavier than this?"

Morgana exhaled a resigned breath. This wasn't the first time they (or we, when I was around) had this kind of conversation, but Penny was just too adamant.

It all started when I gave Josh his temporary shield and told them that I was planning to make specialized equipment for him. My knightly sister snatched at the opportunity to request a new weapon of her own. Her logic was that she had a lot of speed, but she had too little stopping power, and while she learned a couple of so-called 'Mystical Kage Ninja Sword Techniques'™ from Mountain Girl, they were designed for two-handed swords. I would've been fine if she was just asking for a longsword or even an odachi like Onikiri, but she threw a curveball at us instead and chose the weapon she was swinging at this moment.

In retrospect, maybe I shouldn't have been so surprised. There's a rather specific trope in battle shounen genres that we have yet to encounter in the Simulacrum, called 'Small Girl, Big Weapon'.

...

What? Not all tropes can get snappy names like Chekhov's Gun or Red Herring. Sometimes, it was Exactly What It Says On The Tin. Which was also a trope, by the way.

More importantly, while a trope like that showing up wasn't entirely unexpected, it still blindsided me a little. No one could blame me though; just because a trope was common in a genre, it didn't mean it would definitely show up in the Simulacrum's scenario. Case in point, we didn't have any kemomimi characters either. People with animal-features, I mean. Sure, we had Draconians, but they made sense and their transformations were for combat instead of fanservice, while there were no inexplicable dog-girls in sight. Heck, Ichiko was a literal fox-youkai, and even she didn't have a fox-ears when in human form, further illustrating my point.

Anyhow, while the decision itself probably wasn't motivated by either my subconscious Narrativistic influence or the Simulacrum's fundamental trope-pressures, for once I didn't care much. While she looked a bit silly with that weapon, it wasn't like one of those ridiculously oversized anime swords with blades as wide as a paddle, so I could let her have her way for once. It was well within my big-brotherly right to occasionally spoil her like that.

But speaking of brotherly duties, I turned to the girl sitting cross-legged next to me.

"How's it going, sis?"

"Hm? I-I think I'm doing fine," she told me without opening her eyes. She was barefoot and wearing one of the many, many spare sets of tracksuits from the base's storage. She had her legs under her, with her hands resting on her knees like some kind of yogi meditating on the great secrets of the universe. The first part was almost right about the meditation bit, but our concerns were a fair bit more mundane, even if wrapped in a supernatural veneer.

"Baby steps, sis. Baby steps."

"No, I really think I've got it this time," she insisted and opened her eyes to look into mine.

"Do you want to give it a go?"

Her previous confidence withered for a second, but when I flashed a reassuring smile, she took a deep breath and nodded. She stood up and handed over her Uniformer, then she took a few steps forward and turned to face me. She was still nervous, but after taking a few deep breaths she gazed at me resolutely and waited for my signal.

When I nodded, she inhaled deeply and her whole body shone with the bright, colourless light of mana. With a soft sound, I could see her clothes literally disintegrate in real time, though thanks to the light-show and the transformation only taking a second at most, there was no chance anything inappropriate could be seen.

"H-How… do I look?"

Snowy sounded meek, and while it would've been best to reassure her right away, I took my time to carefully examine. But first, a bit of context: unlike Draconians, whose transformed shapes were dependent on genetics and how they utilized their bloodlines, the alternative forms of Celestials and Abyssals were much more nebulous.

The appearance of transformed Celestials was, by all intents and purposes, all in their heads. I have seen and experienced this first-hand in the Elysium; part of the reason why the outfits of the various military branches and higher-ups were so diverse was because they often 'wore' their Celestial forms through the whole day, only undoing them before they went to sleep. When they did transform, their appearance was deeply influenced by what they considered themselves to be, and how it related to their roles in society.

For example, the average guardsman in a tower who never set foot outside Elysium would look at the statues and imagery of ancient-Greek-style soldiers depicting their ancestors, and when they transformed, they would unconsciously pattern themselves after them. People in CIEL, who were routinely working outside of Elysium, would look at human soldiers and law enforcement as examples of what a 'modern fighter' would be like, so their forms were closer to riot gear than togas and brass breastplates. And then there were the experts, like the guys in my Praetorian Guard, who each had very different specializations and their appearances reflected that.

However, these forms weren't set in stone. Case in point, Angie's original Celestial form was pretty much just a bedsheet plus some sandals and bracers, because she didn't know much about Celestial culture as a whole, so her imagination leaned into a more 'angelic' figure when constructing her form. However, when Deus awakened, that base was forcibly overwritten by his presence, resulting in a more complex and regal outfit.

Abyssals were a bit trickier, because of their mixed Draconian heritage making some of their aspects kind of 'hard coded', for lack of better words, but the particulars could still be tweaked. We couldn't get rid of the horns or the tail, for example, but with rigorous image training, we attempted to slowly influence Snowy's Abyssal form into something… Hm. Let's just say, something that wouldn't be on the front page of a fetish porn magazine, and leave it at that.

So, what were the results?

Right now, Snowy was wearing a black dress with a leather upper-piece and a frilly short shirt. On her feet were a pair of ankle boots over what kind of looked like latex long socks that reached up to her thighs, with matching elbow gloves on her arms. Her shoulders were left bare, and while the materials were still a bit questionable, she looked more 'gothic' and less 'bondage dominatrix' right now, which was enormous progress.

There was, one thing that kind of caught my attention though, and I couldn't help but frown.

"Why the belt buckles?"

I wasn't just nitpicking either. She had two buckles on her boots, one at the end of her stockings at her thigh, a short belt hanging from the actual belt on her hip, and she even had a belt buckle for the collar of her dress.

"Penny said… that belt-buckles are cool…"

Before I could get a word in, I was interrupted by my other sister elbowing her way into the conversation, her blade resting on her shoulder as he walked over.

"Did you call?" She grinned at Snowy and looked her over. "You see? I told you that you'll look cool!" She grinned, but then her eyes travelled down, and she simultaneously flushed and frowned. "B-Brother? Why is it that Snowy can have a combat miniskirt, and I can't? Is this discrimination? Favouritism?"

"No. Not to mention, this is hardly a 'mini' skirt."

"It's in the same ballpark," she continued to argue, but I disregarded her for the time being and focused my attention on Snowy again.

"You look great. We have come a long way. Now, if only we could make you a bit more regal and less like a JRPG protagonist, it would be perfect."

"No! Snowy looks great as she is!" Penny protested and hugged her with one hand (since the other was still holding her sword). "It looks cool. And cute! She's cute and cool!"

"T-Thanks, but mind the horn," Snowy tried to warn her, but my other sister scoffed.

"Don't worry, I'm caref— Ow."

And then she naturally bonked her head on Snowy's horn when she tried to hug her closer, and she nearly dropped her sword too. Go figure.

While my sisters were nursing their noggings, I also noticed that the sound of Petra repeatedly pummelling Josh in the background ceased. When I glanced over, I saw that he was being dragged away by his girlfriend toward the intact benches next to the ones Ammy accidentally blew up.

"Come on, let's practice fugue."

"Fine, don't pull. I wanted to take a break anyway."

Looking at the scene, and the still irate Roland, my bet was on the Celestial girl using the small commotion Snowy's transformation caused to slip away from his scolding and she picked up her boyfriend on the way so that Sir Griffon couldn't follow her.

The childhood friend couple sat down and, following Angie's lead, they started humming a tune together. I was unfamiliar with the song, but with each passing second, the air around them was growing thicker with the ethereal light of magic until it stabilized into a slow, measured cycle of waxing and waning following the beat of the song.

It was something I was quite familiar with. Celestials did it whenever they fought in a group, though I still didn't know if it had a proper name. Angie called it a 'fugue', but the one practised by the Praetorian Guards wasn't polyphonic, so I couldn't be sure. In any case, it was something of a group status buff that physically strengthened the singers, with the downside that they had to sing in the middle of the action to do it. That naturally meant there was no way to sing any other hymns or arias or whatever else at the same time, so it was a technique with some definite pros and cons. I liked it, just for that.

I also noticed that, since Josh left the field, Ammy unsummoned her golem and she was walking over to our side.

"Hm? You look good." That comment was naturally aimed at Snowy, and my sisters both smiled at her. Meanwhile, she turned to me and sighed. "I'm tired as a dog. Do you have something to drink?"

"I don't, but you can check out the bar. Judy and Elly are still there."

"I'll do that then."

With that short exchange over, I got up as well and checked the time. It was still a bit early, but since today's training session was apparently finished, I figured I might as well give everyone a debriefing and then head over to the mansion of the Albions (because yes, of course they also had a mansion on the island). It was at this point that something else came to my attention.

Even from here, I could hear the large metal door of the underground base opening up. There was nothing particularly strange about that; most people without convenient teleporting abilities used that to come and go, but the sound it made this time was strange. I decided to check it out, and when I left the training field, I was surprised to see Mountain Girl straining against the hydraulics-assisted metal door.

I thought it might be stuck, but when our eyes met, she finally stopped struggling and the door continued to open as usual.

"What's the commotion about?" Roland asked, following after me. Or maybe he also noticed the strange noises the door made and had nothing better to do. One or the other.

"I don't know. Maybe she's just in a—" 'hurry?', I wanted to say, but the moment she could fully squeeze through the opening, Rinne dashed over me so desperately it downright startled me.

"Thank heavens! Leonard-dono, you're still here!"

"Yes, I'm…" My mouth was ahead of my brain, and I only just noticed that her feet were muddy and she had all kinds of forest debris over her pantsuit, including a fresh green leaf sitting on the top of her head. "Did… Did you just run up the mountain?"

"Rinne had no choice!" She declared between heaves. "Rinne needed to talk to Leonard-dono right away!"

Her vehemence gave me a bad premonition, so I exhaled sharply and focused on her.

"Is there some kind of emergency?"

"Emergency? No. It's just that…" She hesitated, glancing at Roland and back to me. "It's just that Rinne needs to talk to Leonard-dono before Leonard-dono would talk to Albion-san."

"And you ran up the mountain just for that."

"Yes," she answered with a look at screamed 'Why is this idiot repeating something we've already established?'. However, she quickly caught herself this time, and changed it into a look that said 'Why is this respectable idiot repeating something that we've already established?' instead. Putting the nuances of her disparaging looks aside, she added, "Naoren-san told Rinne that Leonard-dono is going to try to convince Albion-san, but Leonard-dono can't do that!"

"… Is this something I should concern myself with?" Roland asked with a brow raised at me, and I hastily shook my head.

"Nah, I've got this."

With a sigh that sounded both relieved and annoyed at the same time, he gave me a salute and returned to the training area. Left alone (as much as that word applies to a busy great hall with multiple facilities), I gestured for her to continue.

"Okay, I bite. Why shouldn't I talk with Yseult? Do you want to work it out between each other, or something?"

"No. It's because Rinne is not a good partner for Naoren-san, so Rinne can't have Leonard-dono destroy Naoren-san's chance to—"

"Wait, hold on." I raised my palm to stop her. "Have we been here before? I think we've been here before."

She blinked at me and glanced around before giving me a 'Well, duh? This is the base.' kind of look.

"I didn't mean that literally!" I snapped at her and turned my palm into a finger. "What do you mean 'not the right partner'?! I thought we were over this!"

"Rinne is… flattered by Naoren-san's affection, but Rinne cannot return it."

"Why?!"

"Because Rinne is not ideal for Naoren-san, so Naoren-san should—"

"Okay, can you give me an actual reason? A proper one, without any self-deprecating idiocy?"

Hearing my ultimatum, she fell silent and glanced left and right before stepping closer and gesturing me to lean in. What was she about to say she didn't want anyone to overhear, I wondered. Curious, I did as instructed and she put a hand next to her mouth, whispering.

"Naoren-san is the head of a Ryu-clan."

"Draconian, yes."

"He must pay attention to the bloodline of his bride."

"Yeah. So?"

"Rinne isn't suitable."

I directed a flat gaze at her, and blurted out a deadpan, "Why?"

"Because of Rinne's Yokai bloodline."

"Your—!"  I was about to explode at her, but then the word fully settled and my response warped into an astonished, "Your what?"

"Rinne's bloodline," she repeated, poker-faced, and after a long beat she added, "Rinne's grandmother was a bakeneko."

"… Are you serious?"

"Rinne never lies," she stated sternly, but then she added in a more awkward voice, "If Leonard-dono doesn't believe Rinne, Rinne… can show her neko form."

I started at her, unblinking, waiting for the other shoe to drop. It never did. As such, I gently nestled my face in my palm and uttered a muffled, "Please tell me you're not a secret cat girl."

There was... no denial.