Disclaimer: I repeat I own nothing but my OC. The Fate series is owned by Type-Moon. My paycheck would be much larger if I did own it. Since it isn't, that means I do not.
Chapter 2- Spears and Spats
The next morning I wake up to a dry mouth and a headache.
Surrounding me are the leftovers from last night. Apparently in my sound judgment I had decided it to be a good idea to continue drinking after I had finished the wine bottle. The bottle of whiskey that I had taken a shot from was lying on the floor empty, on the table were several cans of beer.
I'm still terribly groggy, so when I first turn and notice the blonde girl sitting across from me and staring at me intensely my mind doesn't understand who she is. All it understands is that she's a solid seven. This is probably even a bit harsh. Understandable considering my scale is biased as hell. I'm more annoyed by people than attracted to them.
My drunken state has me push forward anyway. Alcohol removes all restrictions.
"Well hello there beautiful. I must either still be asleep or else I'm even more drunk than I thought for someone as gorgeous as you to be in my presence."
The girl beams a bright smile at me.
"Praetor, I did not know that you had a charming side to your abrasive personality. Please, by all means, continue complimenting my image."
As soon as she speaks my brain registers who she is. The realization makes me groan.
"Oh fuck it's you. Forget everything I just said. I apologize, I wasn't thinking clearly."
"It is quite alright Praetor, if anything I believe you should continue praising me. It is most pleasing to hear."
"Yeah, yeah, don't let it get to your head. So what? You're easy on the eyes. It's not like that'll help you in this war."
She offers me a large grin.
"That is incorrect Praetor. Beauty will allow us to win this war. Since I radiate beauty and have skill of the utmost caliber servant we shall win this war without any concern."
She closes her eyes and raises her chin in the air to make herself appear larger, while also waving her arms around like an actor on stage as she says this. Even though her response makes no sense to me I still smile at the way she says it. It'd be a shame to tell someone so convinced that their right to the point that they're almost childlike, that they're logic is wrong.
"Why are you calling me Praetor? Didn't I ask you to call me Dante?"
Reopening her eyes, she looks at me with slight confusion. Then realization hits her. I suppose she hadn't realized that she'd called me Praetor. A slight blush forms on her cheeks out of something akin to embarrassment. Then she starts waving her hands at me in a panicked state.
"What is it you are talking about?! I called you no such thing!"
You did. I heard you. Ugh what an awful liar.
"Praetor. That's what you called me. It's a title in Ancient Rome for either a military commander or a member of the magistrate. That's what you called me. Though it's not like I mind. At least it's not 'Master'. If anything being called Praetor would be something I'd take as a compliment."
At this her face softens in relief. Then it tenses up again and she almost pouts at me.
"Do not let such a thing go to your head! I am still not convinced that you are worthy of being my partner in this conflict. You summoned me by accident and then insulted me without mercy. You are still lucky that I do not strike you down!"
As she says this she draws her crimson sword and makes a pose pointing it at the ceiling.
"We're still going on about this? I'm an antisocial introverted bastard. You barging in here destroyed the sanctity of my personal bubble. I apologize for being so brash. It was my mistake to criticize such a beautiful maiden for something they had no control over."
She smiled again at this.
"Very well then. I accept your apology. There may still be hope for you yet Praetor."
"So this Praetor thing basically means you're from Ancient Rome. Specifically a position in the government of Ancient Rome. You're a female so this seems strange. However since history is often fabricated it's still possible." Her expression turns sheepish.
Before she can respond I continue.
"Don't ask why I know this. History is something I value so it's something I've kept well educated on. My teacher stressed the importance of learning from the past's mistakes. And don't worry. I understand the conditions we set. Your identity is yours to know. I will intrude no further without your consent. I'm just a bit glad, that's all."
Again she softens, with a content sigh of relief. "Praetor, why are you glad?"
I chuckle slightly at her question. "It's quite simple. It's been ages since I've been able interact with someone of my nationality. I'm American first and foremost, but my ancestors emigrated from Italy. Even though we're probably a few millennia apart there's still some understanding between the two of us. At least I hope there is."
I say this with a small smile.
She returns the smile and starts laughing loudly.
"Oh, what is it?"
"It is nothing Praetor, I'm just happy you're happy."
I snort at her response before standing up and stretching.
"So, did you sleep in that chair all night?"
"No. I did not sleep at all last night." I'm shocked to hear such a ridiculous thing.
"What?! Why not?" She ignores my shock and replies calmly.
"As I stated it is unnecessary for me to sleep."
I'm about to protest when she continues.
"Besides, Praetor, it was very entertaining to watch you sleep. Your expression looks so content without that scowl darkening your face." Said scowl is now larger than ever.
"Shut it, the booze softens me."
"Well then maybe you should drink even more?"
A mischievous glint is in her eye and her smirk's wider than ever. I can tell I'm being mocked for getting drunk. And also for being so sour. Basically she's insulting my entire sour drunken bum lifestyle. Not cool Saber, not cool.
"Yeah, yeah. Like you have room to talk. I bet you didn't even finish your glass of—"
Before I can finish I glance over to her side of the table.
"What."
Surrounding her are the remaining four bottles of wine that I'd kept in the fridge.
Saber glances at me innocently. "Something wrong?"
"YOU'RE DAMN RIGHT SOMETHING'S WRONG! YOU DRANK ALL OF IT!"
A mischievous smile crosses her lips.
"It was satisfactory to my tastes. For something so cheap the quality is bearable."
"Well if it was just 'bearable' why'd you have to drink all of it! I've been saving that!"
"For what may I ask Praetor?"
"In case I ever had any. . . ."
I realize how idiotic that sounds and attempt to shut myself up before I can finish. Unfortunately Saber understands what I was going to say.
"Guests? Praetor, am I not a guest in your household? Therefore should you not be trying your best to be an accommodating host?"
"Don't even start with me."
She smirks at me as I sigh and admit defeat. Then I clean up the mess by tossing the empty cans and bottles into the trash. My head's still killing me so I cast a simple spell on myself in an attempt to relieve the hangover. It's one that my teacher taught me. Something he'd picked up as a youth. I have to use it pretty much every day. With the headache and grogginess gone I glance at Saber from the kitchen. She's staring straight ahead patiently waiting for me to return. There's a sense of elegance to her. As I gaze at her Saber notices my attention and turns towards me with a smile. To think last night she was threatening to kill me and I was mistaking her for a prostitute. It's good that we've made amends. I guess.
"Praetor, why do you reside in such a residence?"
Her question shakes me out of my thinking.
"What do you mean?"
"Well as much as I would not like to admit, you summoned me. Therefore as my master you should be of similar stature as I. I assume your personality and appearance are just ways to mask that truth are they not?"
I glance down at myself.
"What do you mean my appearance?"
"Well your clothing. As well as your belongings. Including this house. It seems that since we are of a similar degree and I am perfect, that you should at least be near perfect. Why do you reside in squalor?"
Her inquiry actually confuses me. My teacher had left me everything, and he'd had a substantial savings fund left over. I could be living in one of the higher class neighborhoods right now, smoking pricy cigars and drinking that really expensive wine instead of the stuff you buy at the store for cheap.
"I, I don't know. Maybe it's because this was my teacher's house. He left it to me so it's one of the last things I have to remember him by. I could buy things that were more expensive but I suppose after hanging around him for so long his stinginess rubbed off on me. The man only survived on the bare essentials even though he didn't have to."
She nods at this approvingly.
"I understand. Your admiration for your teacher is quite beautiful. I can only imagine that he was a great man."
"He was. He's the only reason I'm my own man. He sacrificed himself for me when I couldn't give him anything in return but gratitude. And I never showed it that well."
Saber offers me a sympathetic smile. I get up and stretch.
"Well I'm going to go take a shower and get dressed into something else."
"I understand. I will do so as well." I simply stare at her.
"I only have one bathroom."
"I understand. Mixed bathing was common in my time." I again stare at her.
"The key part of that was 'in my time' as in 'in the past and not in the present'. So if you want to bath you can do it after I'm done."
She frowns at me. "But."
"No buts. My house, my rules. That's fair."
She pouts at me. For whatever reason it reminds me of a puppy.
"Fine. I accept your terms, Praetor."
Well hot damn I actually succeeded at winning.
"For now." She smiles at me confidently.
*Sigh.
After a quick shower and a change of clothing I walk downstairs dressed in a navy blue button downed dress shirt and black slacks. My hair is uncharacteristically combed back and pulled into a ponytail so as to resemble some semblance of order. I had even shaved. My work uniform is folded and underneath my armpit. Saber actually utters a low whistle. It annoys me.
"Praetor, you clean up quite nicely." I grunt in response.
"What is the occasion?"
"I'm going to quit my job. I wanted to look nice when I flip them the bird and walk out."
She quizzically cocks her head to the side like an owl. "Why are you quitting?"
"One, it's a boring job. Two, I can't exactly live a normal work schedule when any moment might break into a fight for my life thanks to your arrival. And three, it's not like I need the job for anything but a cover story."
She stares at me in a confused manner but when I don't elaborate she drops it.
"So how long of a walk is it to your workplace? Since I shall be accompanying you."
"It's not far, maybe twenty minutes at. . . . Woah woah woah. What gave you the idea that I'd be taking you with me?"
She glares at me. "I agreed to your previous demand, Praetor. However your safety is at stake in this situation. You need me to accompany you in case of an ambush from the enemy."
"Look, I appreciate the concern. But it's daytime. One of the biggest rules in the game is secrecy. They're not going to attack me in the open with that factor. Besides it's pointless to have you walk all that way just to watch a disgruntled employee curse out his boss. Stay here, take a shower. Relax. It won't be long. I'll be back within an hour I promise."
She looks ready to argue so I grab my wallet off the table and rush out waving goodbye behind me. I barely hesitate to lock the door behind me before I set off down the street.
Half an hour later and I'm free from the shackles of no benefits and low pay. Walking down the street I whistle the tune of one of a hard rock song.
That's when it hits me.
And by 'it' I don't mean some metaphysical wisdom.
I mean something literally smashes into my being and sends me spiraling into a wall.
That's when it hits me.
This time in a metaphysical wisdom sort of way.
In my infinite glory I went in auto drive and took a shortcut home through an alley.
Which separated me from the safety a crowd provides.
What luck that this would end up screwing me over? It's like some higher power is giving me a convenient one finger salute. I didn't know Corporate Commander was this powerful. We're all screwed.
I scramble to get off the ground.
Soon as I make it up I feel a whoosh go past my body and hear something impact into the ground next to me. The sheer strength backing the motion stuns me. Then I snap out of it. And look at what started this turn for the worse.
In front of me stands a girl.
She's got greyish-blue eyes and this obviously dyed reddish-pink hair color. Her overall physique is slim. Especially her assets.
"No wonder I felt like a washboard hit me."
This statement causes the girl to glare at me malevolently. I can feel the violence in her. It radiates through her very being. Like blood does through my veins. I quickly take in the rest of her. She's wearing this strange gothic like dress. There are frills at the elbows, wrists, and the skirt itself. It's colored a weird combination of pink, white, and black. Her shoes are odder. High heels. With big ass pink spikes at the toes sticking straight up. That's a safety hazard. The worst part about her is how I can immediately tell she's unnatural. It's easy. The chick has a pair of horns on her head and a forked tail sticking out from under the skirt. As well as pointed ears. Like a goddamn elf. She reminds me of some type of succubus or demoness.
Now she's sneering at me. "Why have you not started running little pig? It's no fun if you give up so easily. Had I known that I would have killed you with that first blow instead of playing with you."
I can tell from how she said this that she wanted to scare me. It was the equivalent to a cat playing with a mouse. Just with words. Instead she annoys me.
"Babe, I'm not some play thing. I gotta be somewhere, so if you'll excuse me."
I attempt to walk away but the ground gets smashed in front of me. I finally notice what's been causing the damage. The girl's carrying a strange looking spear. Well looks like she's not just a psychotic cosplayer. With that strength she's got to be a Heroic Spirit. That means I'm not going to be able to bluff my way out of this.
"Little pig, you're no fun." She shows her teeth off to me with a wide grin. Then she pulls the spear back and thrusts it at me.
Before I realized what I was doing I'd already reinforced my body with prana and rolled to the side in order to avoid the blow. Then without thinking I sprinted away. Behind me I heard laughter.
Not the good kind of 'ha ha hee hee' laughter.
No, more like the 'mwahahaha' kind.
I didn't know people actually did that. Great she's insane.
As I run I quickly run through my options.
Plan A: Stop running, turn around and attempt to whip out a projected firearm in the chance that I might surprise her with the action enough to get the drop on her. Definitely not going for that plan of action. There'd be no guarantee I could whip up a functional gun even if I tried. Plus I still hadn't exactly managed to conjure bullets, even when I'd made a decent firearm. That would mean I'd have to either pistol-whip this nut job or else attempt to throw the gun at her. Both were extremely idiotic ideas. I doubt it'd even faze this girl.
Plan B was to give up and beg for a quick and merciful death. Screw that, I wasn't going to die on my first day of this war.
Plan C seemed the best bet then. Annoy her with snarky remarks as I kept running, hoping all along the way that I'd be able to get back to Saber. Then Saber could go ahead and. . . .
THUD. I ran right into something while following that train of thought.
(You could say I've been derailed. Ba dum tss. I know, worst joke ever.)
Stifling a groan I looked up and saw that the 'something' was in fact a 'someone'. The one someone I really didn't want to run into.
"Well, uh, fancy running into a lovely lady like yourself in a nondescript alley like this."
The insane chick was looking down at me with a malicious grin on her face. She pointed her spear at me. By now I could only assume she was of the Lancer class of Servant.
"Little pig, I was expecting more from you. You're no fun."
The smile on my face twitched in anger at her words. I thought fast, and gambled my life on one sole idea. I looked over her shoulder and shouted to someone who wasn't there.
"Hey! Assassin, hurry up and kill this lunatic for me. You wouldn't want your Master to die would you?!"
She turned in panic in the direction my words were addressed towards.
I focused as much as possible and projected something I knew I could at least make ammunition for.
A Crosman BB pistol.
It was already loaded with a .177 caliber BB when I made it.
Unlike a bullet, a BB is a simply ball of metal. There's no complexity to it at all. That meant I could make it. A pump pistol has no difficult intricacies either. Meaning I had some type of weapon at least.
Now it all came down to my aim, and exactly how human these Heroic Spirits were. Using my reinforced muscles I quickly pumped the pistol to a satisfactory state by the time Lancer started turning back towards me in confusion. This move also rode on whether or not this Lancer had any defense against projectiles. If she was a Servant that had dealt with arrows in their previous life then this would be pointless. Still, it was better than nothing, and I was willing to gamble my life instead of simply folding under pressure.
I squeezed the trigger.
The projectile was propelled out of the pistol's barrel.
My aim was true. All I could do was hope the age old reflex to protect one's eyes came into play here. Luckily it did. Lancer didn't think to make an attempt to block the pellet with her spear. That or she couldn't.
Instead she firmly placed both her hands over her eyes stopping the BB from causing any damage. Just for luck I chucked the pistol at her head as well.
In that split second from firing the pellet to her shielding herself I'd already gotten up and bolted away from her. I put all my remaining prana into my physical form. I was pushing myself to the limit. My legs screamed from the unnatural amounts of stress they had to work against.
I felt my tendons tear. But I kept running. My nerves were on fire.
I bit down on my lip and continued fleeing. I heard a loud scream from behind me. Followed by an angry flurry of words that I couldn't make out. Lancer sounded like the rich girl that was told she couldn't have what she wanted.
I still felt her presence though. And I felt her rushing towards me.
My speed was unnatural. Her's was supernatural.
I kept running.
The trigger in my mind was pulled yet again. This time harder than usual. I accessed reserves of prana I'd stored within myself. A tool my teacher had taught me. And something typical mages used something like jewels for. I didn't need to rely on gems.
I was like a goddamn camel.
Except instead of water it was prana. And instead of having a hump like Quasimodo I simply kept energy in a reserve part of my mind. Sure it was only a small amount. Sure it might cause me permanent brain damage. But this was another case of gambling it all in the hopes of living another day. It allowed for me to sprint even faster for a short burst, to the point that I almost rivaled Lancer in speed.
My muscles were tearing throughout my body. By now internal bleeding had set in. I was pretty sure one of my lungs had collapsed as well. Maybe, maybe not. I was hoping I could heal most of it later on. I just had to survive this encounter.
Part of me wanted to reach for my MP3 and turn on something, anything, so if I died I'd at least die to badass music.
But I wasn't an idiot.
Well I was, just not that big of an idiot.
If I even attempt to move my arms it'd not only slow me down, but possible break the arm itself. I felt like this is what astronauts dealt with when they went into a centrifuge to train against high g-forces. I'd kill myself if I kept this up for too long.
I kept running. My consciousness was starting to waver at this point.
I no longer knew what I was doing. I'd forgotten about the insane Servant chasing me. I'd forgotten about where I was running to. The act of running became the only thing I vaguely understood. It was like that part of Forrest Gump where he just runs to run.
Then a small glimmer of comprehension entered my fading brain when I realized I was right in front of my house.
I heard a squeal of joy from behind me that I assumed was Lancer. She'd caught up to me.
Then the door opened. Saber stepped out.
She clearly wasn't happy. She also looked concerned.
I didn't know why.
A brief jab of pain entered my lower midsection.
"Little pig, you can't outrun me."
I didn't have any more time to ponder the situation I was in as at that moment I truly faded out of consciousness.
When I woke up I was terribly confused. I managed to push myself into a sitting position. I could sense that I was inside. The room was dark, but the feeling of recognition I had told me I was probably in my house. The fact that I was on a bed told me I was in my bedroom. I didn't know how or why I was in my bedroom. All I remembered was quitting my job. Looking around the room I noticed something else. One of the chairs from the dining room had been moved into this room. Saber was sitting in it. It didn't take long for her to notice my awakening. She got up and moved towards me without a word. I attempted to get out of bed but when I tried to stand my legs crumpled.
"Praetor, you need to rest." I looked at her. With her open palm she was lightly pushing me back into a laying position.
"Saber, what happened?"
"I will explain later."
I didn't argue. Her tone was commanding. But her eyes were pleading. I lie down and fell back into slumber. When I next awoke I felt much more capable. My thoughts weren't as cloudy as they had been. I felt less groggy. I attempted to get up. After testing my strength I found I could stand. My legs were sore but they held. Saber was sitting in the chair yet again. Her posture was tense. Her expression worried. I didn't know why. She was sitting with her eyes closed so she didn't notice my movements. Then they opened. Shock was the first emotion I noticed on her face. Followed by relief, confusion, and fury. In that order.
"Praetor. You are awake." The way she says this would scare a normal man. Pure unfiltered rage.
But I am no mere mortal man. I am a grade-A jackass. Anger directed towards me rolls of me like water off a duck's back.
"Saber. What happened?"
She glared at me for a moment before speaking. "Your assurance that there was to be no danger ended up being proven false."
"Well I know that. What happened besides that? Particularly when I was unconscious."
"The Servant that I can only assume was Lancer impaled you upon her weapon."
"Impaled me?"
"Yes, did I not just say that?" Her words were criticizing. She was obviously pissed with me. I didn't know why. Actually I did but I really didn't have the patience or courtesy to feel regret. If I had known that those fighting in this war didn't care about the whole 'fighting at night so as not to be detected' rule I wouldn't have gone alone. I looked down upon myself. There was a decent scar on my body. Right above my hip. Where my appendix would have been.
"Impaled. Yeah, I guess I kind of recall that."
"I am surprised you are not dead."
"Really? I'm not. I had appendicitis as a kid, so it's not like she'd rupture anything. That wasn't a kill shot. For one her weapon is pitiful at best. The design's mediocre and it's obviously made to look more intimidating then it actually is. A better spear would have been barbed. That way the thrust would have torn through the wound when she pulled out as well. It would have been more likely that I would have died in that scenario. The placement of her attack makes me think that either she wasn't trying to kill me, or the more likely reason being that she just isn't that skilled as a Lancer."
Saber looks at me like I'm insane.
"Praetor, how can you make light of the enemy? The weapon of a Heroic Spirit is what defines us in battle. The design of it matters little when the user has unimaginable power. How can you mock someone who could have potentially killed you?"
"Ok, first of all you obviously haven't realized who exactly it is you're talking too. I can mock anyone. That's my shtick. I'll use the term lightly, but I had a 'conversation' of sorts with her. Her personality strikes me as unstable. To the point where she would seem much more suited to a Berserker class than that of Lancer's."
"Then Praetor, what stops her from being Berserker and not Lancer?"
"That's a decent question blondie. If she was Berserker I'd assume she'd lose most of her ability to converse due to the Mad Enhancement ability. Plus she wouldn't have fallen for my trick and instead proceeded to simply execute me on the spot."
"What 'trick' are you talking about?"
"I projected a weapon and fired it at her eyes in the hopes that she'd block it. When she did I bolted."
She looks at me with an expression I can only describe as a mix between doubt, surprise and approval.
The doubt is the first thing she asks of. "Did you really do that Praetor?"
"Yes. Why would I lie?"
She blankly stared at me. Then she deadpanned her response. "Why do you do half the things you do?"
I opened my mouth and gaped at her like a fish.
I couldn't think of a proper comeback.
So I resorted to the maturity of an elementary school student.
"Because your mom!"
This ended up resorting in her eye twitching several times in ire. Her face formed into a scowl and she started to pull out her sword.
"Never bring up my mother. You know nothing of her. Do it again and I swear I will slay you where you stand."
I waved my hands frantically. "I kid! I kid!"
She slowly lowered her sword.
Well someone has mommy issues.
I nervously cough.
"So, uh, what happened after I got briefly turned into a human shish kabob?"
She continued to glare at me, testing whether or not I was being genuine with my question. I frantically waved my hands in the air in an attempt to show I was harmless. I even prayed to the great Joe Pesci in the hope that it'd help. Why Joe Pesci? You may ask this. It's simple. You ever see that guy? He gets shit done. At least according to a certain brilliant comedian.
Either my message was broadcasted or else Saber simply gave up on he attempts to understand me as she answered my question. She just couldn't hold off a sigh before doing so though.
"After you fell to the ground I assumed she had killed you. I charged her where she stood but she dodged and fled from me. The only thing that stopped me from giving chase was when I noticed you were still breathing. I brought you inside and laid you on the bed to rest. I suppose I could have attempted to treat your wounds. My Imperial Privilege would have allowed me to do so with some success. However your wounds started healing by themselves to some extent. I assume either this building is surrounded by some type of healing boundary field or else Praetor, it is you that is the cause of this anomaly. Either way it seems this enigma matters little, you are alive and well. Therefore we must hunt down Lancer and retaliate for her arrogance. One does not simply attack my allies and expect mercy."
"Mind if I use that for a meme?"
She stared at me for a while. "What is this 'meme'?"
I just groaned in response. "I don't think a direct assault against Lancer would be the best choice."
She seemed upset at this. "Why? You said it yourself that she is a pitiful example for a Lancer class Servant. She should be of no concern in a direct fight. Are you simply not man enough to risk it?! It seems I was wrong about you."
In response I simply stared at her.
Gone were my snarky jokes and lackadaisical nature.
She continued with something that became a sort of rant.
"Why did I even choose to enter this war at your side?! The impression I had received from you while residing in the Throne of Heroes was that of a noble outcast who needed only a small push to reach their potential! I knew nothing of you but on that baseless hope alone I answered your summoning! Now here we are, and you almost fall in battle by a surprise attack at the hands of a weak opponent on the first day! What type of Master are you! We will surely lose this war! I have seen nothing of your skill as a mage yet I doubt I need to when you describe yourself as 'mediocre'. You consistently mock both I and this situation we are both in. All I need from you is a single affirmative choice and you continue with these pointless negative responses! Are you that much of a coward! Imagine if the teacher you speak of so highly were to see you now, he'd be. . . ."
I cut her off when I start chuckling darkly.
Without either of us realizing it I'd materialized a firearm into reality.
Now it was pointing at her.
I recognized it as a Smith & Wesson Model 500.
One of the strongest handguns in the world, and probably the strongest revolver in existence.
At least from America.
I bet even a Heroic Spirit would go down with enough fatal hits from this gun.
I looked her right in the eye while laughing. She was glaring at me. Then she smirked.
"Who is it that you think you will impress with such a weapon. That is just a simple form of overcompensating. . . ."
I pulled the trigger.
The recoil was intense, I almost hit myself in the face with the gun. It definitely kicked like a mule.
The noise from the shot silenced her.
That's when I noticed that I'd actually been able to project a functional bullet. That had to have been the first time. Usually they just blew up in my face or else didn't fire at all.
I had stopped laughing.
The shot had been fired over her shoulder. The blast made my ears ring. If she had been a normal human it would have probably deafened her. The wall behind her had a large hole blown into it.
To her credit she didn't even flinch. Saber showed no fear. Either she was confident in herself, didn't take me seriously, or else was smart enough to know that I didn't intend to harm her.
Only to make her shut the fuck up.
I locked eyes with her. My honey colored eyes gazing into her emerald ones. I saw my face in her eyes. Gone was the usual smirk on my lips. Instead they were creased into a grim line. My eyes themselves appeared uninterested, if not a little bored. My voice was monotone.
"I suggest you show some humility. You lack any right to criticize me. Especially by bringing up someone that you never knew and pretending you know how they would view me."
She started to open her mouth but I shot off another round. This time I managed the recoil better. It only jumped up about three inches. The shot caused her to bite her lip and stay quiet. Something that I didn't expect.
"But, you are right."
This surprises her.
"Not with all you said, but some of it. I will attempt to restrain myself more often. You are my partner, therefore I should not exploit you and take you for granted. It was unwise of me to wander around alone. I also will attempt to be more serious when the situation demands it. Where you are wrong is with deeming me a coward. I am no coward. I find a direct assault against Lancer to be foolish. Especially when we would be basing all our tactics on fighting her based on a possible faulty evaluation I made. Not only that but we know nothing of her Noble Phantasm or her identity. She could hold a trump card up her sleeve. Something that could catch you off guard. Then there's also the matter of her Master. He or she hasn't revealed themselves so we know nothing of their abilities in combat. I find that especially important considering I'd most likely have to fight them while you handle Lancer. Unless of course you'd like to fight them both at the same time while also defending me? Of course that would require even the best of warriors to consistently be focusing on three points that differ in how they should be handled. Or do you think you would be better simply abandoning me and going at it by yourself? That would mean you'd be without a supply of prana, which means if your Noble Phantasm is particularly draining and would have to be used in the battle you might actually kill yourself from the effort. It's your choice though. I'm just the coward."
The revolver disappears from my hand. Saber and I continue our stare down. She seems to be searching for something out of me. Then she smiles.
"I understand Praetor."
I nod in affirmation.
"Thank you. I apologize for everything."
She waves it off.
"It is nothing. What is more important right now is to decide our next course of action."
"I agree. The first thing would be to obtain supplies. That way it would limit prana consumption and use on both our parts. Then we scout the city. If we're lucky we'll either encounter another Servant or else Lancer and possibly her Master."
"Then what?"
My smirk returns.
"Then we win."
Well that's another chapter. On to the next one. From here on out I'm planning on the interactions with Saber to be a tad less heated. Sure they'll be occasional jabs here and there but for the most part I want her and Dante to come to an understanding. The value of teamwork! Bonus points to anyone who notices the less obvious references. -SB
P.S. In order to answer the question of "What War is this?" I'll simply say that this is basically a composite of several things. Characters from the Fate Extra games, setting from Fate Stay Night, and situations I basically come up with as I continue. With a character like Dante I can't make it predictable and follow a little old thing like 'original plot material' now can I? It wouldn't do his ridiculous nature justice. I'd like to thank all of you who took the time to follow or favorite this story. I'd like to give a special thanks to all who reviewed. Cheers to all of you. -SB