[quote=@Red Alice] [center][h3][COLOR=black][b] Team Black | Master - Giovanna [/b][/COLOR][/h3][/center] The first day- no, night of the Holy Grail War. The concept wasn't completely foreign to Giovanna, as the ideal of "Magi fighting over a Holy Grail" was quite common. Even a bumpkin like her knew at least that much by virtue of being within the Holy See. Even that being said she barely understood what a magus was- a major disadvantage. Steel armor clanking with her stride, she made for the designated meeting area with due haste. Though it would probably be quite obvious how out of place she was to civilians, apparently Caster was concealing her presence. Almost without thought, she kept her hand on her swords hilt at all times after entering the dank warehouse. A gentlemanly figure greeted her almost immediately upon her entrance. The Knight nodded wordlessly in response, before finding a suitable corner to loiter in until the other 6? "Masters" showed up. There really wasn't much for her to do at the moment, but any information about the Grail and the war around it would be useful to her. Giovanna took a moment to speak with Caster through their link, considering the lack of activity and eerie silence. [i]"Since we're waiting Archdeacon- what's a magic circuit?"[/i] A long wait it would be, so it would seem. Her first impression of Magi so far was that they liked to take their time. The Church wasn't wrong so far in painting them as unsavory people. [/quote] [center][h1][b] Team Black | Caster - Claude [/b][/h1][/center] “A Magic Circuit. Yes, indeed. A thing that is very important and very useful, and yet a thing that is something we should not know of. As you yourself are one whose family works with the Eighth Sacrament you know very well how incorrect and heretical the practices of weaving miracles are. Yet in a sense they could be said to be what allows the entire process. There are some who liken them to an extra set of nerves. There are those who compare them to the various electrical wires that are the main facilitator of the movement of energy in this modern day. It is through magic circuits that heretics encroach upon the domain of god. It is magic circuits that allow for magecraft. Of course, in the case of a blessed child of yours that is the reward for virtue your circuits are granted as a permission. Yet the theory in sense is, forgive me, the exact same. Although the composition likely differs. I will show you more examples when I make a homunculus in the future.” Caster clasped his hands together and smiled. “In common perception, both in occultic lore and fables and stories a wizard casts a spell and shows his great power that is unbelievable and impossible for normal men, correct? Yet the truth in a sense is that no man truly casts magic. A magic circuit is more a connection to allow a spell to happen. You do not say that a wire brings the result of a machine, correct? Nor do you say that the electricity originates within the wire. A magic circuit is a converter for life energy into magical energy. In most cases that is the life energy of the world itself, Mana. Way more plentiful, permeating the environment. It is much better to make use of it than Od, the life energy of one’s self. It goes without saying that to utilize too much of one’s life energy is unwise. In the first place the amount of energy that you would end up with would usually be quite lacking in comparison. But there are times where you have utilized all the energy in your surroundings, or those gifted with great stocks of life energy. Caster reached out to take a glass cup in hand, and nodded as he let magical energy flow through it. Even as a heretical Archdeacon, even as a servant he understood the most basic principles of a magus. As an example he was hardly wished to share mysteries. Magic was hardly a tool, and even the most advanced of magi or spellcasters rarely used their spells. No, what Caster was doing was the most basic of things. The simplest element of utilizing magical energy, reinforcement. “What we call spells are in a way a result brought forth by the world. A foundation, and a formula. To utilize spells is to create magical energy, and interface with a foundation through the means of self-hypnosis and knowledge. Foundations are engraved into the world through belief, and the formula could be said to be a specific spell.” He dropped the glass, continuing to smile as instead of breaking on impact it simply fell with a number of thuds before rolling away. It landed against a outcropping of metal that was part of the skeleton exposed of the worn down warehouse. What should have completely shattered was not left with a single scratch. “While this is not a matter of an actual magic, this is an application of magical energy to further fill out the meaning of an object. It’s called Reinforcement. It is perhaps a bit heretical to simply call sacraments a certain sort of foundation, and to equate it as magecraft… the simple fact is that there are proper things and improper things. For you it would be best to understand what comes of the disciplines and applications that are not barred to you. If you wish to learn more magecraft beyond the sacraments of our lord then I am not adverse to showing you further.” He paused for a moment, a seeming moment of hesitation. Yet his smile never faded away, and in a sense there was some amusement in his words. The man who lived a pious life, the man who was dragged into the flames of passion and fell into darkness with Notre Dame. An Archdeacon who dabbled in sorcery and pursued various passions. Perhaps he was curious to see what the woman would think of him. The tale of the Hunchback was one well-known, and it was in a sense the most eventful period of his life. Certainly it was what could be said to be the most dirtied part. Of passion, of desire, of a most dark fall. A passionate man who secluded himself from society. A Deacon who turned to heresy, driven by a need to study and explore. Yet there was no regret in his pursuit and in a sense he could only feel a deep something when he saw the gypsy woman hang. To be freed, liberated. Before that woman, that Esmerelda came he was simply content to pursue his knowledge, guided along a certain goal. He wrestled with his own demons with an iron-will and held himself to a standard of virtue that perhaps was part of what broke him. Oh, it all came tumbling down, tumbling down. Thoughts of her were all that filled his mind. His entire being was set aflame in passion, in need. Love, hate, love, hate. Which was it really? Yes, he believed it was love, but perhaps it was a form of hate indeed? Ah… Yes. It certainly was, something whispered. Caster suddenly looked to his master after having stared into empty space for a few awkward and silent moments. “Ah, in the end you will find that for better or worse that I am a servant in the class of magic. As intended.”