Praise be to...!
Gabriel Blessing for The King of Swords
Marcus Galen Sands for The King of Steel
James D. Fawkes for King Apeiron
Third Fang for The Ash of Miracles / Second Magus Killer
TypeMoonFreak for Sir Emiya, Knight of the Round
SatireSwift for Troper!
Where would I be without you guys? Throne of Shirou wouldn't be here, that's what.
A note from the author!
Warning. This note is slightly longer than usual. And split in twos again.
RAWR! I am Arrixam! Hear me roar! 14.4k words for just this chapter! The longest one I have ever done in any story. I spent, literally, ten hours writing this without a break. Seriously. Not even a food break or a bathroom break. Ha ha ha... man was I messed up when this was all over...
Anywho, one of my readers in RL came up to me and asked me how I see the other Shirous. I mean, yeah, they are all the same characters with the same personalities, but it's the small details that determine who is different. So he was just curious and I decided to answer him. I wanted to save this for later, but I decided to share it with you guys too. Many of you might have noticed in my PMs or author notes I refer to the Shirous of this story as 'Shirou Rangers'. There's a reason.
As I have noticed in reviews and personal messages, you all think I chose this team because they are the most badass of the badass in all of Fanfiction Net. Ha ha ha HA HA HA HA HA HAAAAAAAAA! No. I chose them for their DIVERSITY. I hate cookie cutters of the same character. I had a system for determining which of them to choose. And here it is:
Shirou Gold- King Apeiron! (Symbolically the Star. As "Gold Ranger" this Shirou has been through the trials of his other Rangers, overcoming them, and then going beyond. And then conquering THOSE beyonds and repeating the process. He might not be the team leader, but he is the most senior of the group and is looked up to by everyone. He is also, undeniably, the most powerful of the others in terms of raw might- IE Escalvatine)
Shirou Red- The King of Steel! (Symbolically the Triangle. As "Red Ranger" this Shirou is the leader of the group, determined not from election or given by a higher being, but determined from experience and recognition from the other Rangers subconsciously. "Red Ranger" Shirou might not know he is the leader, and his teammates might not know it either, but the group will revolve around him being such.)
Shirou Blue- The King of Swords! (Symbolically the Square. As "Blue Ranger" this Shirou understands the workings of EVERYTHING by the book. There are rules to how things work and he knows how it's done. From battle tactics, to politics, to etiquette, and so on. Unlike Rangers affiliated with the Circle, this Shirou will respond to situations logically (most of the time) and overcome them with precision. Notably, this Ranger has the highest chance of becoming "Gold Ranger".)
Shirou Green- The Ash of Miracles! (Symbolically the Rectangle- yes there's a difference from the shape above. As "Green Ranger" this Shirou knows everything the "Blue Ranger" knows. However, unlike his counterpart who is limited to his 'cubicle', this Shirou shares the values of the Circle-based Rangers and tends to be more flexible with the knowledge and how it is used. Logic and emotions can be used simultaneously without harming the project. Notably, does not require a team to operate and can go rogue.)
Shirou Pink/Yellow- Sir Emiya! (Symbolically the Heart/Circle. As "Pink Ranger" this Shirou is what binds the team together. He understands what it means to have a brother-in-arms better than anyone and can calm any problem the team might have amongst themselves. As "Yellow Ranger" this Shirou is the most essential part of the team... at the cost of being the least valuable. He is a support character that backs-up the other Rangers without having to get in their way. As both "Yellow" and "Pink" Ranger, the team will fall apart without him.)
Shirou White- Troper! (Symbolically the Squiggle. Some may think the Squiggle is just a spaz of a symbol with no meaning to it. Others say the reasons behind the formation of a Squiggle goes beyond their understanding. Neither parties are wrong in these claims. As "White Ranger" this Shirou... MAY match the might of the Gold Ranger. However, it is not to be confused with 'most powerful of the group'. This Ranger's abilities are DIFFERENT and are bound by a completely different set of rules. In a world of Apples, he is the Orange. Can be the Ultimate One-Shot Weapon when used correctly. Can also be the 'overused and over-exaggerated Super Weapon' when used repeatedly.)
That's it. That was my list and I found the right Shirous to fill it up. I did, however, have other 'Rangers' but couldn't find anyone fitting the criteria.
Now that that blab-fest is over, let's get on with the story!
Oh, one last thing. Yes, I know how high someone needs to be to break through the sound barrier when free-fall dropping.
Chapter Four
The Champion of Mars
For a few hours now Lancer had been lurking through most of Fuyuki City in search for a Servant to poke at, hoping she wouldn't run into one. She had no intentions of complying completely with her summoner's orders in killing a fellow Hero. But she also desired to keep that blood-hungry Apostle out of the battlefield. Her summoner threatened to unleash her should Lancer fail any of his— its— expectations. The fourth Servant was at least of right mind to warn her 'teammates' about her condition. It was in everyone's best interest, as well as Lancer's moral code, to keep that beast chained as much as possible.
She deliberately took her time. With her C-Rank Agility she could cover this half of the city in twenty-thirty minutes. But she was only exerting enough to be considered E-Rank Agility, as well as pausing on a rooftop to 'look' around. Her summoner, who was linked to her consciousness, was well aware of her intentions but hadn't voiced any displeasure whatsoever. For someone who would unleash the most reckless of the Servants, rivaling that of a Berserker, he— no, it, she reminded herself— wasn't doing much of a job making sure hers got done.
Repeating the process of landing on a roof and swiveling her head around as though actually 'looking' for something Lancer took another moment to give a heavy sigh. Nothing ever goes her way. Perhaps it was the Lord testing her. Perhaps He was for it was the Sinner who bound her in a game of witchcraft. If so, then what should she do?
Her faith shall be put to the test. As she landed upon the last rooftop the presence of a Servant became known to her, and by extension became known to the Sinner. Playing ignorant would not be an option. In fear of having many a casualty from her disobedience, Lancer decided to meet with this unknown Hero. 'Kill them if possible' had said the Sinner. And so she shall fight, but she shall not give it her all.
With one last sigh, she steeled herself, gave a small whisper of a prayer, and leapt into the soon-to-be battlefield.
*Scene*
"Rin, there is a Servant," Archer said to the young Magus as he felt the shimmer of pressure any Servant knew. They had made one last stop on the rooftop of Homurahara Academy after scouting the city for strategic positions for future battles. Archer had let her in on his Clairvoyance skill by counting the amount of bolts that held the side of the Fuyuki Bridge together. She had been in awe, but not as much as he wished since she was already aware Heroic Spirits possessed abilities and performed feats normal humans could only dream of achieving.
Rin's response to the Servant was to run out of the school and confront it in the courtyard. Archer took the express route by jumping down the three stories from the roof.
Meeting them, appearing from their astral form, was a female Servant nearly as tall as Archer with long, lanky limbs. She wore armors and straps of leather donned with decorative brass metal, a brass helm with a vibrant red mane running from the crown to the back, leather gloves and boots, and a flowing red cape over her shoulders. Her hair was clipped short and her eyes were milky and crossed akin to a blind man's.
"Good evening Master and fellow Servant of the War for the False Grail," the Servant's voice was feminine yet butch, like a girl purposely pretending to play the part of a man.
She wasn't fooling anyone with those knockers exposed at the clip of her leather vest.
The King of Swords' description of her had been spot-on, Rin had to admit. So this was Servant Lancer. And, if Rin remembered specifically what the 'King' had said about his conversation with this Servant, this would be another moment in which Lancer called the Holy Grail 'False'. Comparing the claim with what she found out about her Shirous, Rin would have assumed Lancer knew about the curse of the Grail as well. However, assuming the King of Swords was telling the truth about his visit, Lancer would know the bare minimum about the Grail but her Master, that Cain Adams, would know the better details.
In short, calling the Grail 'False' was a testament to her hatred towards magecraft. She constantly, with great persecution, called it witchcraft.
"I am the Servant Lancer," the woman continued without missing a beat. She nodded her head once to each Rin and Archer. "I am under orders to match myself against another Servant in combat. However, I wish for you to know I am against it entirely."
"Oh?" Archer took a step forward to become between Lancer and Rin. "If so against it then why not resist a bit more? Or has he already used a Command Seal?"
Rin interrupted, "If you are Servant Lancer then you've met my…" here's where she struggled for a moment on what to say, but then decided to might as well say it, "…other Servant just this afternoon. We are under seize-fire, aren't we?"
Lancer was about to reply to the both of them when she turned her head to the side and blinked. Her expression changed from uncomfortable to sheer displeasure. She even groaned when facing the two once more. "My summoner refuses me the liberty of answering your question, Servant. As for you, Master, I beg your pardon. Then, if I may, what is the Class of your Servant?"
Rin did not miss the way Lancer addressed her Master. There was much venom in that tone, painfully obvious.
Archer gave one 'hmph' of a laugh and replied, "Understand, Lancer, this is a war, whether it is for the real Holy Grail or a false one made from magic. I will not reveal my Class to you just because it may be the polite thing to do. Just as your Master has claimed to not trust us then so shall we until proven otherwise."
Lancer's dead eyes shifted from staring off into nothing to turn and stare directly into Archer's. "Fair words, Servant. Understandable, however it is in your interest to answer my question else I will be forced to engage." Her brows furrowed, "My summoner says he will see you as a Master pretending to be of the one mentioned in the seize-fire unless you can prove you are the Master of Servant Archer."
Rin blinked. She looked between Archer and Lancer. Confused, she pointed at her Servant, "But… he is Archer. I can't prove that unless we show his Noble Phantasm, which I will not reveal to another Master and their Servant."
"Summoner," Lancer corrected. "And are you saying this man at your aid is the Servant of the Bow?"
Now Rin was even more confused than before. It would seem Lancer had been misinformed on who the real Servant Archer was. If she would not believe Archer wasn't Archer then who—
"Oh you've got to be kidding me," Rin realized. That Idiot of Swords must have introduced himself as Servant Archer or had given Lancer the impression he was. Unless Rin can prove she had multiple Servants there was no way she could convince her Archer was the real Archer. Unfortunately, the Idiot Squad was nowhere near her and had gone off to do their own thing.
"I don't think she's willing to listen, Rin,"Archer had caught on to her thoughts. "She came to pick a fight, not to negotiate terms of peace."
Lancer shifted in stance. "Very well. My summoner has acknowledged you as an imposter and has ordered me to deal with you accordingly. Prepare yourself, liar Servant."
In her left hand materialized a steel short sword and in her right a spear with a spade tip. With her left leg in front she pointed the sword at the two while keeping the spear tucked under her arm. Archer brought out his pair of white and black falchions in turn. Matching her stance he tucked himself in a defensive pose with a low crouch and both blades crossing over his torso, one over the other. The tension rose as the two were staring at the other, judging the criteria of battle. None made a move to advance or twitched from pressure. These were Heroic Spirits, beings who have met great feats of battle and faced challenges men of this age would die of fear.
Rin followed her gut and took a few steps back.
The sound of her feet shuffling was the trigger needed for both Servants to charge. At speeds beyond Rin's perception, the two clashed with a series of slashes distorting the space around them. Sparks lit up the night as the clash of metal hurt her ears. Lancer switched between slashing with her sword to stabbing with her spear while Archer followed a flow of defending and countering every move. Indeed Heroic Spirits were beyond the means of even the Enforcer Magi as they swerved around the other, kicking up dirt and creating torrents of wind with each movement. Rin could only see one or two moves every second— and her gut was telling her more like six or seven, perhaps more, had been unleashed.
Archer parried the sword in his dance-like style but did not counter as the spear went in for its own counter. The blow was parried and the Servant of the Bow swiveled around the Servant of the Spear to get at her backside. Lancer met his attack without having to turn her head, spun, and unleashed a storm of stabs with her spear. Archer easily deflected each blow while sending his own at her, which was deflected by Lancer's short sword in return. Both continued their onslaught, ducking, jumping, rolling, twirling— just dancing in a style so beautiful and so diverse, yet so deadly the smallest mistake or slip will be the end of the other.
Such as when Lancer disarmed Archer, sending his white blade flying through the air.
Seeing the moment to strike, Lancer closed in on the window to deal the finishing blow to his open guard. But it was not to be as the spear was blocked when the white blade had reappeared in his grip. Lancer had shown displeasure, but Rin had missed anything else as they returned to their blurred movements.
It might as well be a firework show with the amount of sparks flaring around the pavement with how fierce the two were going at it. In only twenty seconds of battle both Archer and Lancer had unleashed blow after blow onto the other with the full objective to kill. Rin was out of her league, definitely if she wanted to support Archer in any way. Perhaps if there was enough distance between the Servants she could use a jewel. Lancer had no Skill towards Magic Resistance.
But after further reading into Lancer's parameters, Rin was confident Archer could defeat this seemingly weak Servant on skill alone. Comparing the two's stats, they were evenly matched. In fact, they, literally, had the same level of parameters. The only thing that differed between the two was their type of skills. Archer wielded Independent Action, Clairvoyance, Eye of Mind (True), and Magecraft. Lancer, however, had Instinct, Eye of Mind (False), Protection of the Faith, and Sainthood. Lancer's stats were mostly for defense, yet she was always taking the initiative and moving to the offense. That was her problem. Archer was always defending and biding his time to counter. Thus, Lancer was negating her own abilities and continuously trapping herself for Archer.
With the fifth disarmed blade flying over their heads, Lancer was starting to show her frustration. Two minutes into battle and she had yet to lower Archer's guard. For every attempt to strike him down Archer always had a backup. He was matching her for speed— what Lancers boasted about— and determining the flow of the battle. Both of their movements were swift and precise, but it was Lancer who had to move twice as much as Archer. Lancer continued to strike endlessly at nothing but a wall that was Archer, while the Servant of the Bow moved at the bare minimum to stop her advances and knock her back.
Suddenly Lancer leapt away. Not even a second later, Rin saw a blur of white and black hail from the sky at a blinding speed followed by a shriek of air being torn. At the speed surpassing that of a bullet, the blurs crashed from the sky onto where Lancer had been standing half a second ago. A cloud of dirt and pavement flew everywhere and a deafening boom hurt her ears. Rin covered her face from the blast, even when she was several meters away from the battle.
Lancer stood with the spear tucked under her arm and the sword firmly at her hip, both pointed towards the ground. A deep frown and a hard scowl creased her sharp face. "Such tactics does not fit one of the knight Classes, Assassin."
Rin removed her arm to see what had struck. The dust had settled just enough for her to see several black and white falchions dug into the ground, gathered in a group as though pulled magnetically to that exact spot. Rin couldn't believe it. She had thought Archer was just retrieving his lost blades back into his grip through some ability or as his Noble Phantasm. She couldn't believe he was drawing copies of the same weapons over and over throughout the battle.
Nor could Lancer. Archer had been willing to hide his Class as well as letting her believe the same as Rin had. It wasn't cowardly, but it wasn't an honorable strategy either. It would have been fitting to call Archer an Assassin instead.
But raised another question. What Archer uses swords?!
"You'll find I'm full of surprises," jested Archer. "Honor and pride will only get you killed. Only the foolish follow such a creed."
"You sound just like my summoner," Lancer did not sound impressed in the slightest. Her eyes changed focus. From grief of battle and hesitation became determination to execute. Gone was the pacifist. "I'll not tolerate the existence of another serpent. As a servant of the Lord, it is my duty to send you to divine retribution."
Archer smirked and announced, "You can try, Longinus."
The battle continued. Archer chucked both blades on hand at his target faster than humanly possible. Lancer, aware of his abilities as well as those of the swords, deflected the projectiles towards the ground. Before she could recover, Archer had picked up another pair and threw them at her at blinding speeds, to which Lancer had no choice but to deflect upwards. Before any others could be thrown, Lancer charged and met Archer head-on.
*Scene*
Seated upon her mount high above the heavens, beyond the reach mortals can achieve without protections from climate, the fourth Servant bound to Cain Adams watched the battle between Lancer and the red one unfold. She did not have the gift of Clairvoyance and thus could not determine the finer details of their engagement. However, for one as skilled in bloodshed as she, such factors did not matter. Though down below the two were smaller than specks of dust, smaller than a grain of sand, but a mere dot in a sea of dark, the fourth Servant could perceive all that went on.
The Servant of the Spear was struggling against this new Servant, most likely a Saber or Caster. Remarkable if a Caster could match the feats of a Lancer and expected— if not a little disappointing if only— if a Saber was just on par. It was said the Saber was the best of all the Servants and generally had powers at least one rank above the other Servants. Lancer was nothing but a pushover compared to the feats the fourth Servant faced. One of her captains could have knocked the living shit out of Lancer.
So it was ruled this new Servant was not a Saber if he was having difficulty with Lancer.
Being driven with the craving to join the battle but not being permitted to, the Servant high above could only watch and mentally calculate the layout of the battle. The red Servant was using a technique of mystic sword Noble Phantasms of potentially unlimited amounts which were attracted to their opposite selves. His skills in coordinating their trajectory when deflected as well as controlling the flow of battle with his painfully obvious openings were admirable. But this Servant had already devised a strategy to knock him back a few pegs, if not outright defeat him.
But what fun would that be if an intriguing Hero was defeated so quickly? She would at least let him use his Noble Phantasm before splicing his torso open, ripping out his heart, and taking a bite into the soft, meaty flesh, letting the blood trickle down her lips and drip onto her bosom—
A shiver went down her spine. Her Bloodlust attribute was growing more aggressive with each passing day. If she didn't find another Servant she may be forced to confront one of her own teammates. Her Maestro would not be pleased.
Something miniscule and normally unworthy of her attention brought her out of her rousing. A movement down below but a few miles away from the battle was approaching in haste. Two specks of black dots were coming in through the woodlands surrounding the schoolyard and would be upon the academy in a matter of moments. They were not inhumanly fast, but above the standards of the pathetic mundane of this era.
When turning her head in the slightest, her focus honed in on them. An eyebrow was quirked. Servants? Two of them? They both felt on par in on the level of lethality as Lancer.
But beggars can't be choosers.
Reaching into the pouch at her mount's saddle, the Servant pulled out four large orbs twice the size of billiard pieces— two in each hand. The red, shifting, liquid metal squirmed in her grip as though alive.
"Vieni!" called the Servant in glee. "Vincitore, seguitemi in gloria!"
Throwing all four spheres into the air, the Servant leapt off her mount and dove from the high heavens. The spheres circled around her back, rotating over and under each other as they followed their owner. As driven as she was to draw blood, she was no fool. From this height the fall will surely cripple her, Heroic Spirit or not. But such measures had already been prepared. Two of the spheres latched onto her back and began to morph. They stretched, solidified, and formed into heavy red steel armor in size too large for someone of her stature to move around freely. But even this armor will not save her.
To truly come about unscathed, the sheath wielding the large sword on her back came alive. The gears locking the weapon spun and dislodged from its holsters and seals. The World that is Gaia screamed at its presence and at its defilement. But the Servant merely laughed, too excited about the upcoming battle she was about to face. One hand griped the large handle of the blade, and the sword came alive.
The remaining two orbs of red liquid metal merged together and formed into the shape of a jousting spear twice the size of a normal one and far too heavy for such a small girl such as her to wield without struggle. But this was a Heroic Spirit. With her free hand, she gripped the spear and aimed to intercept the course of the approaching Servant.
Her speed picked up as the spear cut through the wall of air. Her armor came alive to match her goal and morphed into a more aerodynamic shape. Even her mount was having difficulty keeping up.
Alas, the sound of breaking the sound barrier announced her presence.
*Scene*
The King of Swords was running through the forest that bordered Homurahara along with one of his counterparts, Sir Emiya of the Round Table. They had been waiting just outside the forest with the King of Swords keeping track of Archer's presence through the obscure link they all shared with him. None of the Shirous could tell where the other was, but they could all tell where Archer was so long as he wasn't too far out. The exact distance had yet to be determined. As soon as Archer was to come into conflict with any Servant, the King of Swords and Sir Emiya were to go racing through.
If chronological order was still being followed, this world's Emiya Shirou was about to stumble onto the battle and have himself hunted down by Lancer. The King of Swords did not trust Adams in the slightest. There was a strong possibility Adams will mandate Lancer to kill this world's Shirou in order to preserve the secrecy of the War.
There had been a question if they were to save Shirou or let him die and have Rin resurrect him. It had been unanimous to save him; with many having no reason other than it was the right thing to do. As always, the Ash of Miracles was the one who had a strategic point of view. He said it would be better if this Shirou was saved and that way had the opportunity to be properly introduced into the War and, perhaps, summon Saber in a complete contract rather than a rushed, emergency one most of them had gone through.
The King of Swords' admired his credibility to think logically in these situations and to push his emotions aside, but it was from that admiration that had him distrusting the vampire even further. The more he talked the more he resembled Vittorio Serevare.
Root be damned, the Ash of Miracles better not be a sociopath like the Pope of Romalia or else.
Nearly halfway through the forest, the sound of something bursting open above their heads forced them to stop.
"Jus Gladii!"
And dodge.
Tracing a common dagger to activate the runes of the Gandalfr, the King of Swords was twice as fast as his counterpart and had been able to escape whatever had crashed onto the earth in a great eruption. Bits and chunks of the earth sailed past him while some he had to slash away with Derflinger. Sir Emiya, activating his Prana Burst, had been able to get away without much damage. The blast of the impact had sent him stumbling, however. It took a second for him to roll back onto his feet and draw the silver and emerald sword at his hip.
The knight of the Round Table's face paled at the sight of the creature following pace of whatever crashed down. Following his gaze, the King of Swords was speechless at the figure silhouetted by the moon. It stopped its fall with one mighty flap of its great wings, defying laws of momentum with its exhilarating speed and mass.
A dragon. A great, destructive, white dragon. Though its size was between a large horse and Tabitha's Rhyme Dragon Sylphid, both Shirous could immediately see the power built in each muscle of the scaly beast. Four limbs with razor claws, wings just as long as it was from head to tail, fangs sharper than any blade forged by man, and spikes trailing down its tail. They did not miss the large saddle strapped on its back.
Which meant someone had been able to tame and mount this creature.
With the massive wind brought by the dragon, the dust cleared instantly. Standing in a large crater was a figure half the King of Swords' size. A woman with a nubile frame. Silver pauldrons rested on her shoulders, holding her long flowing white cape. A silver breastplate which exposed her stomach and back painted with red thorns. A leather skirt dyed white not too far off from a Roman's with the right side open to expose her entire right thigh. Silver, red, and white greaves, sabatons, and gauntlets with pointed tips. Last, strapped to her back was a large sword sealed in a crimson and silver sheath. The sheath was built with gears, locks, and tumblers resembling more of a safe than an actual sheath.
But it was everything else about her that drove both Shirous into madness. She was blonde with her hair tied back in a tail and a large ahoge dangling over her forehead. Her eyes were rich emerald. Her posture was regal, perfect, immaculate, and superior. She was absolutely beautiful.
She looked exactly like Arturia.
But then she smiled. Her smile brought the two out of their bearings. That smile was not the soft, gentle kindness fitting that of the King of Britain. That smile, along with the glaze of her eyes, was that of a hungry, carnivorous predator ready to launch at its prey. This was not the gaze of one who had killed to defend their homeland. This was the gaze of one who had killed for the sake of killing.
It sickened them when even her voice was the same as Arturia Pendragon's.
"Do not bore me, Servants!" she roared in anticipation. "This shall be your only warning! Come at me with everything or die by your folly!"
She gave a sharp whistle followed by a click of her tongue. Then moved.
The King of Swords had a split second to lift Derflinger in front of him before a massive red claymore coming out of seemingly nowhere crashed into him. The white Servant had blasted out of the crater and struck the King of Swords with such force she was driving him back in her charge. His heels dug into the ground as he tried to retain control. Not even finishing the click of the tongue, the dragon opened its mouth and spat a ball of fire faster than any bullet. The explosion tore wood and earth alike, lighting up the night in blinding flames. Sir Emiya barely had enough time to move. But he had been knocked away by the concussion and, with great force, crashed into a tree.
His armor did not protect him from concussive force like that. Even with a hasty Reinforcement spell he felt the wind get knocked out of his lungs. But the danger was not over. His body was aching in pain but his mind was screaming at him to move. Ignoring the roaring pain, Sir Emiya dove to the side.
A large wing smacked him back when the dragon had landed and charged at him, blowing trees out of their roots in its attempt to tackle him. Already seeing the boy dodge, it spun on its front legs and whipped its tail about with the spikes angled to hit his side.
Tracing the black shield of Sir Breunor, Sir Emiya was more than lucky the chunk of metal had stopped the tail from slicing him in two. However, the force of the swing still sent him rolling about.
Spinning on his knees and elbows, the Arthurian Shirou dodged yet another swing— this time coming from above to crush his skull. Quickly getting back on his feet faster than he had ever, even during the war against Mordred and all of his monsters, Sir Emiya held the sword of Merlin in one grip and the black shield in his other.
This was truly to be the trial fitting a Knight of the Round Table.
*Scene*
The King of Swords had been able to disengage from the white Servant by digging one heel into the ground and using it as an axis to spin out of the way. The Servant had anticipated his actions and had sent the claymore in his direction. With Derflinger he quickly blocked it and Traced the sword of Attila the Hun, Isten Kardja. The blade was cursed to always draw blood with each swing if, and only if, there was a target to aim for. If not, then the sword will draw blood from its wielder and, on most occasions, kill them.
Shirou had no love for this fake Arturia. For wearing her face and having that sickening look in her eyes, he wanted her to bleed.
Her eyes flickered to the blade and Shirou saw recognition and… praise?
But it was too late. She was wide open and had left her ribs exposed. It was an amateurish mistake when using something as slow and large as a claymore in close combat. With Isten Kardja, Shirou went in for the strike.
And had the blade locked in place by a suddenly appearing rapier of the same red color as the claymore.
Shirou disengaged and leapt back to gather distance. He was lucky the Servant did not follow him.
Keeping both Derflinger and Isten Kardja in a defensive manner, Shirou tried to play out what had just happened. The curse of Isten Kardja was supposed to draw blood with each swing, even when the blade had been blocked or parried by anything. There was no wound on the Servant and Shirou hadn't been hurt by the backlash curse of the blade either. No blood had been spilt.
It wasn't until he had been using Structural Analysis on the Servant's weapons on instinct that he found his answer. And he wanted to hurl. The weapons in her hands were weapons his Reality Marble will not accept because they are not weapons by design. Swords, daggers, lances, shields— anything designed to be used in warfare other than modern technology such as artillery or machinery would be recorded. Though her 'weapons' were in the shape of two different swords, they were not 'swords' in itself.
It was blood. Gallons and gallons of blood, stolen, pillaged, gorged out of victims in countless sums compressed and solidified through some sort of disgusting ritual. Shirou could almost hear the screams of the thousands in each sword as he analyzed the recorded history in each blade. He could not see beyond a mist of confusion, as it was not a conceptual weapon, but he could see hints and glimmers. Yes, this was blood that could conveniently take on the form of a weapon of the wielder's choosing, which was why his Reality Marble was rejecting its existence.
And there were two more of those 'weapons' floating behind her. Spheres of blood as large as his hand. Blood capable of taking the form of swords— capable of negating the curse of Isten Kardja since the Sword of Attila ate the blood of one victim out of thousands.
"What are you?" Shirou growled. The runes of the Gandalfr flared at his rage. He had never met anyone hungrier to wound and kill another with such passion and to such a degree, save Kotomine Kirei. The Dead Apostles and the Ancestors even had a policy to never take so many lives else expose their existence. The Founder Brimir and the Pope Vittorio had been willing to commit genocide, but even they had felt great woe.
This one… was unforgiveable.
Her smile slackened, but did not fall. She seemed amused. "I feel my Class as a Servant is not fitting to one such as I. So, it is only fair, right, and just to assign my own Class, is it not?" Folding the claymore over her body and the rapier over her chest, yet not lowering her guard in the slightest, she gave a knightly bow. "Servant of Slaying, the Artorius."
Artorius. She looks like Saber, she sounds like Saber, she fights with as much ferocity as Saber, and she calls herself the Artorius.
"Lucius Artorius Castus," Shirou said aloud.
The great ancestor to King Arthur, the Roman commander who led many legions across the known world, conquering lands in the name of Rome, who placed absolute order as Prefect of Briton, who wiped out armies who dared to defy the Roman Empire was this girl.
This blood-hungry psychopath who turned the blood of those she conquered— innocent, guilty, defenders of their home, enemies of Rome, and even former comrades— into red, shape shifting mass.
"Lucia," Artorius corrected with a friendly smile.
"Oi, Parnter, snap out of it," Derflinger tried to get the attention of his handler.
But Shirou was lost in his rage. His circuits surged as Od pumped through his body, pushing his Reinforcement above the safety meters, and his Gandalfr runes now shining so bright it closer resembled a glove of light.
Artorius smiled a toothy grin. Her eyes snapped wide with anticipation and joy. She could feel Shirou's rage grow, making him stronger and dangerously unstable. He was going to kill her. He was going to put his all into killing this Servant. She was beyond salvation.
She could not be forgiven.
Artorius gave three sharp whistles, one long whistle, and another sharp one. A roar could be heard in the distance.
Shirou released the Sword of Attila and replaced it with the Russian sword Kladenets. It had a similar curse to draw blood, but this one was more driven than its predecessor. It craved bloodshed enough to strengthen the wielder to great lengths until a lethal strike had been given. With the Gandalfr runes maximizing his attributes and the Kladenets fueling his own drive to slay Artorius, Shirou leapt at the Servant with enough force to send the earth under his feet exploding.
Artorius met his challenge with an even greater smile.
*Scene*
The guys back in Camelot may have… been modest when telling their stories about the art of dragon slaying. Shirou always knew dragons were the greatest and most powerful of the beasts in the world. But the way his fellow knights had mentioned them made them sound like pushovers. Sure they struggled a little, but in the end they were always victorious. Their very modest stories made what nonsense Sir Kay said about him killing (supposedly) a dragon outrageous.
Sir Kay's tall tale didn't sound so ridiculous now.
Reinforcing the black shield of Sir Breunor le Noir did very little stopping another swing of the tail from knocking the wind out of Sir Emiya. The white reptile was too fast for him to take a swing at it and the force of each blow was like his first day of training with Lancelot.
Except if he messed up even once he'll be dead.
Bouncing off the ground once, Shirou used the momentum to get back up onto his feet and ready himself for the next strike. Splinters flew everywhere as the beast swung its tail once more in a wide arc. He ducked and felt the wind clip a few strands of his hair, forcing him to his knees. But with a Prana Burst, he bolted straight for the dragon with the sword of Merlin extended for its soft underbelly.
No matter how fast Shirou was, the dragon was leagues faster than he was. With one single flap of its wings, it flew up into the air with enough force to divert him from his path. It flipped around in the air and brought its tail down to hammer him while he was still in the process of stumbling. Another instant Prana Burst shoving through his limbs saved him as he dove to the side. The whip-like tail blew dirt and rock everywhere. To regain its balance, the dragon landed.
"Haaaaaa!" Shirou sprinted with all his might. Reinforcement and Prana Burst pushing his limits and sending his legs on fire. Prana Burst was a technique only the best of the Knights of the Round Table could pull off due to its high prana cost as well as its physical conditioning. It sent surges of Od exploding out of the limbs to significantly enhance the performance of any given action for an instant. However, it required years of conditioning for the body to tolerate its heavy toll— else bones shatter and muscles tear.
Shirou had known Prana Burst for no longer than 48 hours, having seen the technique performed by Sir Bedivere in the war against Mordred.
The pain did not stop him. He ran at the beast with the determination to slay the beast. It swerved its large body as though it were a snake to dodge his lunge. That didn't stop him. Prana Burst propelled his arm to swing the blade of Merlin fast enough to shriek through the air. A stream of silver howled as the emeralds blazed with his Od fueling it.
The dragon snapped its jaws at Shirou. Its fangs clipped at the blade, overpowering even a Prana Burst-powered swing and disarming him. The blade of Merlin flew back and lodged itself into a tree.
Followed by a wing to the face.
Shirou was blown to the side, the feeling of weightlessness granting him a sort of temporary euphoria as though he had not tired himself out for the past five minutes. And then the pain came crashing back tenfold. He hit something as his body met the ground, bouncing around in his armor, and finally skidding through the mud.
He grunted, gritted his teeth, and forced himself to— 'Move, damn it!' With the lag of his body and the pain compelling him to stay down, he barely managed to get out of the way of the dragon's charge.
He brought the shield up to block one last swing of its tail before the Traced Noble Phantasm shattered into Prana particles, cutting his face as it splashed out like broken glass.
At this point, one would liken him to a rag doll. Once again Shirou was thrown off his feet with nothing to protect him. He collided with a tree and heard something crack, praying it was coming from the wood and not him.
With one more Prana Burst, Sir Emiya dove once more as the relentless beast snapped its jaws where he had once been, taking large chunks of wood in its bite.
A second! He had a chance to turn things around.
Ignoring his body's plea for breath, Shirou activated all of his aching circuits for one last chance.
"Trace… On!"
' Judging the concept of creation
Hypothesizing the basic structure
Duplicating the composition material
Imitating the skill of its making
Sympathizing with the experience of its growth
Reproducing the accumulated years
Excelling every manufacturing process'
In his hand came one of the few Noble Phantasms he could ever replicate without problems. He was more familiar with this weapon than he was with the sword Merlin gave him. He had used this blade in many of his trials in becoming a knight and it had, in return, gave him its strength to conquer those challenges. Now, with facing his greatest yet, the blade resonated in his hands and gave him power to match the beast. With this, he could slay it.
In his hands was the black cursed blade of Lancelot of the Lake, Arondight.
And it was singing in praise. The dragon-slaying sword was confronting a dragon.
With the speed and strength of Lancelot coursing through his body, Shirou charged with a howl of a battle cry from his lungs. Arondight swung faster than Shirou had ever delivered it before, demanding the blood of the dragon.
In return, the white beast snapped its jaws once more at Shirou. Black steel of the fae met the teeth of a dragon, sending sparks of red and black everywhere. Shirou, coursing the skill of Lancelot through his body, immediately retaliated with another swing. The dragon met it once more and deflected it with its monstrous power and agility.
Swing after swing, so fast his arms were one continuous blur, Shirou threw Arondight at the reptile with newfound fire. With Prana Burst he was pushing the monster back. When it backed up, it swung its tail at his blind side. Shirou parried but could not cut the tail as it had been locked between two of its spikes. In this moment, the dragon went in for a serpent's strike to his head. Sir Emiya of the Round Table had met its attempt with another blow to its jaw.
Shirou panted as his arms were growing heavy and his lungs were burning. But if he could not fell such a beast then he had no right to call himself a Knight of the Round Table!
In the distant, a series of whistles could be heard.
The dragon roared and took off into the air as soon as another blow had been diverted. Shirou growled in frustration and readied himself for what was to come.
But instead, the dragon went straight up into the air and started to head towards the direction where the King of Swords had been driven to.
Sir Emiya allowed himself a smile. If the fake King Arthur was calling for her pet so soon, it meant she was in danger and needed help. But if that monster made it back, then the King of Swords would be in trouble.
Ignoring the pain of his knees, the Knight of the Round bolted from his place with a Prana Burst.
*Scene*
"This side needs to be revised," said the King of Steel to the others. "I don't think the runes are set up correctly."
The Ash of Miracles was getting frustrated. While the King of Swords and the Arthurian were off playing hero, he was stuck here completing that Bounded Field. He knew he was going to reinforce Rin's protections sooner or later. He had planned to with or without the consent of his others. It was just that he was so tired. Without the Shroud of Martin impeding his vampiric drive and absorbing some of the radiance of the moon, he thought he had more than enough stamina to construct a damn fine Bounded Field. Already with the curse of Angra Mainyu being 'super-charged' by Gram, no enemy Servant could cross into Rin's territory without some serious hindrance to all of their abilities. Even Saber with her A-Rank Magic Resistance would lose a rank in all of her parameters.
But gods were, apparently, on different levels of Heroic Spirits.
Since the end of dinner, the Ash of Miracles had been out here circling around the yard while constructing his own Bounded Field. He had yet to actually build the 'wall' which was mainly the trigger for activating the barrier. All he had been doing for the past several hours was crafting layers upon layers of seals, traps, commands, protections— practically everything from the book.
He understood the Campione's perspective. He really did. But after hours of criticizing his work he was tempted to turn the thing on early. He even had an excuse in mind ready.
'I needed to test if it would affect you, a God Slayer with Divine powers,' he would say.
Apparently the King of Steel also had a degree in Runecraft. Who'da bloody thunk?!
The Ash of Miracles was mostly frustrated because he was thirsty and hadn't had a good night's sleep for a few days. That Dead Apostle he was hunting before did not make his job any easier by getting away. Tracking him down had been a bitch.
"You're the one who drew it!" he hissed under his teeth.
"Are you all right?"
The Ancestor scratched his head and turned around to see King Apeiron looking at him with concern. He waved a hand to put him at ease. "Yeah. Getting tired. Building something like this takes up a lot of mana— a lot more than I imagined. So far we've burned through three times more than I used to build the one back home. And we're just setting up the prototype."
Both the Campione and King Apeiron had been a huge help. Their reserves were ridiculously large. The Ash of Miracles had used this to his advantage by writing the sequence of runes he wanted on a notebook, showing it to them, and then having them use their own reserves to etch them wherever he directed. The complicated part was coordinating every rune's position and in what order they were to be drawn. Much like the honeycomb theory with the resonating Mystic Codes, the library-worthy of runes had to be created just right to link to another. If one was placed too far in advanced without some sort of stabilizer or support, everything can be crashing down.
It's like calculus all over again…
It should be mentioned the final Shirou of the group, Troper, was not around to help. After dinner he had bolted out of the door, removed a tarp disguised as a bush around the corner to reveal a bicycle with a propeller above it, and took off in haste. He did not say where he was going. No one could have asked because they were shocked such a ludicrous device had, against the laws of aviation, been able to propel him off the ground.
"It's fine, Shirou," the Ash of Miracles flipped through the pages of his notebook. The runes his counterpart was mention was a set used for connecting organic matter and metal together. Alone, it could have melded flesh and steel together. But in this giant web of (what was starting to look like gibber) spell work it was but a cog in a grand machine. Small, but needed.
"Go on to the next one marked on your map," he said. "We have about thirty seconds before that 'flare' you just wrote before stopping really does a number on us. As in, blow us all to smithereens, number."
The King of Steel fumbled with the parchments in his hand, locating the map and then the next set he was supposed to work on. In frenzy, he took off towards the western section of the house.
"Do you need me to trace any Mystic Codes or Noble Phantasms?" asked King Apeiron.
The Ash of Miracles thought about it for a second, but shook his head. "There's no need, but thank you. At least for now. I'm not going to pretend this thing can actually stop something like a god from using something like a Command Seal against us. My knowledge on Bounded Fields is nowhere near on par with the mysteries from the Age of the Gods. But at least it can stop anything the War can throw at us."
He looked up in thought, "I wonder if Saber's Excalibur could tear it down when it's done…?" He shrugged and went back to his notebook. "Probably. It is an Anti-Fortress attack."
There was a silence between the two. The vampire had taken immediate notice of it but had chosen to play ignorant. If asked, he will blame his fatigue. But… perhaps it was because this was Shirou and not someone else the Ash of Miracles could feint negligence. This was a silence of burden, one that could not be extinguished by pretending it wasn't there.
"What's on your mind?" he asked.
The amount of emotions flashing through King Apeiron's eyes told him everything. Doubt, fear, hesitation, sorrow, and jealousy. The champion of the Fae did well to mask them all, better than most Magi living in the modern world could have (like Rin), but the Ash of Miracles had eyes too sharp to not already play out what the conversation would lead to.
"You said you were living happily with Rin, Sakura, Rider, and Saber," King Apeiron started, as predicted.
The Ancestor lowered his notebook. All of his experience dealing with negotiations from the Clock Tower, the Church, and the slightly less hostile Ancestors had him running maps of routes to drive this conversation. From the right words to the right responses to the right gestures and emotions could control however he wanted it to go. Just a few words and he could end the conversation, could leave King Apeiron stunned in place in shock, could bring him out to rage, could leave him satisfied, could have him become a pawn or greatest friend if the Ash of Miracles so chose.
Instead, he rubbed the bridge of his nose and abandoned all those thoughts. He couldn't be like all those other Magi from the Clock Tower. Especially to an alternative to himself. What would happen if he had been in his place? What if he had lost Rin or Sakura?
"And Illya. We all have our problems like everyone else," he started. "Rin is Rin, Sakura is still sweet but a yandere, Rider keeps to herself but I enjoy our conversations, Illya still pretends she's a little girl even with an aging body, and Saber is still a glutton." He snickered. "There's really not much to say about it. We all have our lives. Rin leads a research division back in the Clock Tower, naturally rivaling the one led by Luvia. I see her whenever I have to pay a visit to the Queen. On occasion Saber joins me on Apostle hunts and rouge Sealing Designates. Rider and Sakura mostly stay at the Emiya estate looking over the house while I'm away. Illya travels the world mostly, and I get a postcard from her every few weeks.
"But on those rare days we all come together to have dinner. Sometimes Luvia visits. Sometimes Waver-nii and Bazett-nee join as well. Sometimes we'll all head to the Clock Tower to see Sirius-jiji. Yes, those four girls have stolen the kitchen from me, but I'll not fight them for it. I enjoy their company every day and I'll not trade it for anything."
He looked straight at his other self, "We're all happy. Granted, happiness came at a price, but we've come over it. Being here, at the start of the War all over again, I fully intent to make sure the Shirou of this world gets the same happy ending. I will save Illya and Sakura. I'll stop Saber from dooming herself. Shirou will not become like Archer. The Grail will be destroyed and Gilgamesh defeated. And I'll be damned if anything happens to Rin."
"You said Rin was getting soft in her old age," the red Shirou gave a light chuckle to loosen the tension.
"I said I thought she was," he countered with his own smile. "But this Rin and my Rin have the exact same personality. Nothing has changed, apparently." He shrugged.
"Exactly… how old… are you?"
The Ash of Miracles began scribbling, pretending to not have heard his low-volume question.
King Apeiron had something more to say, but something else had stolen their attention. In the distant there was a blink of light almost like the flash of a camera. A second later a loud boom hit their ears, followed by a mighty gust fluttering their clothes. The direction had come from the academy.
"Go," said the Ash of Miracles. "I need to finish stabilizing the runes and you're probably faster than me. Take the King of Steel with you."
"On it," King Apeiron took off at a speed matching that of a Heroic Spirit. The King of Steel only needed one look to understand the situation and followed closely behind, albeit at a slightly slower pace.
As much as he wanted to join them, the Ash of Miracles had a job to do already. Without his supervision on the incomplete Bounded Field it will collapse on itself and force Rin's house to implode. Followed by an explosion about ten times as destructive, probably taking out a few acres of land in its wake. He was deeply worried about the neighboring residents surrounding Rin's manor, Sakura specifically, but was a thousand times more worried about what would happen if Rin found out while she was gone.
He felt a rock plummet into his stomach at the thought.
Yet, not even the fear of Rin could make him continue to work. Something was wrong. In one moment he had been calculating possibilities that could have been the explosion to his plans for the War and in the next it had all just stopped. He was frozen. No, more like the concept of time ruling over him had seized to be. The World that was Gaia was rejecting him.
Now? All of a sudden? It wasn't just rejecting him from this world to return to his. It saw him as a flaw and was trying to expel his existence entirely.
Slowly, but surely in a matter of moments, he will seize to exist.
And he was helpless against it.
*Scene*
"I am the bone of my sword."
The King of Swords chanted as he brought out Thuận Thiên from his Reality Marble. The sword, also known as Heaven's Will, was wielded by the Vietnamese king Le Loi when he liberated the land from the Ming rule. In its legend, Le Loi grew taller and had the strength of a thousand men when holding onto this blade. As legends usually go, it was exaggerated. He grew 'taller' for gaining a powerful aura of charisma which gave him the confidence to revolt against the Ming and had 'strength' because he used no less than a thousand men in the battle.
Of course, this was a Noble Phantasm— a crystalized legend given form based on the wishes of humanity.
With two hands, Shirou swung Heaven's Will in a wide arc at such ferocity sonic booms of vacuums sliced trees in half around them. With the significant boost from the Noble Phantasm as well as the amplifier of the Gandalfr runes, the blade of iron clanged against the equally massive blade of blood. A thunderous roar tore the land around them at the collision as Artorius had matched the sudden change in strength in equal value.
Shirou pulled back and swung again in an attack that would have made Heracles proud. Another explosion of concussive force nearly knocked him around when their blades met once more if he had not also Traced Le Loi's combat abilities. The air distorted for a second, but Artorius' gleeful smile could not be missed.
He hissed in annoyance. She was just toying with him.
Again and again he swung in flows that tore the forest apart. Each swing sent secondary blades of wind and concussions when the two forces collided. Shirou did not have the endurance of a Servant like Artorius. The Gandalfr runes made him more resilient to physical blows but it was more as a minor enhancement to his natural durability. His arms were aching, his bones were creaking, and there was already plenty of blood trickling down his face from the wind and shards.
But he would not give up.
"Steel is my body, and fire is my heart."
Projecting around him were five copies of a kris Noble Phantasm, the Keris Taming Sari. It was a weapon named after its original wielder that had been lost and traded countless of times throughout the ages and now resides in the royal treasury or Perak, Malasia. Taming Sari when placed in its sheath will prevent any form of physical harm to its owner. As useful as it would be right now, especially when getting torn apart by his own doing, Shirou had a use for its second ability.
"Taming Sari!"
Activating five copies as well as draining a fair chunk of his Od, the swords came alive and hurled directly at Artorius. She saw them coming; releasing one arm to swing it to her right, one of the blood orbs came to her aid and formed as a parrying dagger in her grip. All five blades were deflected at a speed so swift it looked like she had performed Second Magic. Shirou took this chance to send his own strike with the Heaven's Will. No longer having the reinforcement of both arms on her zweihander, Artorius could only push Heaven's Will to the side, blowing dirt everywhere when it hit the ground.
The Taming Sari blades came back for another strike while she was wide open. Her eyes widened, but her smile grew twice as big. Taming Sari's second ability was to fight without having being wielded. With half the strength of its handler, Taming Sari fought instead with the same speed and skill as though being used by a phantom. But Shirou was the Gandalfr, not Myoznitnirn. As such the blades only gained his mundane combat abilities when the Gandalfr runes weren't activating.
Still, they could perform C-Rank damage. Artorius might have high Endurance, but even she could not be impervious to such attacks.
With the same speed as before, Artorius deflected the Taming Sari while dodging those she could not. Not missing his chance, Shirou swung Heaven's Will one last time with full force.
Artorius had just enough time to lift her zweihander. Heaven's Will struck the blade square at its flat surface and forced her off her feet. She flew several meters, shredding trees in her path, and finally dug her red sword into the ground to halt her retreat.
"Partner look out!"
Instinct screamed at him as the hairs on his neck stood up. When a six thousand year-old blade, who had been through countless conflicts and knows death better than any living individual, tells you to dodge, you dodge.
Shirou sprung backwards using the strength of Heaven's Will. He felt the burns surface on his face and hands and embers eating at the tips of his cloak. A blast of white flames came from the sky and burst right where he had been standing. Three of the five kris blades had been destroyed and a new crater leveled the field.
Shirou readied himself as the white dragon of Artorius flew down into the open field to stand between him and its master. It gave a low growl as it stood ready to pounce at him at any given command.
Coming to his side in heavy pants was his counterpart with his armor in pieces, bleeding just as much as the King of Swords, and pale from prana exhaustion. The Gandalfr took note he had Arondight in his grip and the silver blade he kept with him was missing.
It was then the King of Swords noticed how worn-down he was as well. He was bleeding from minor cuts but would have to be treated as soon as the battle was over, his muscles were probably torn from strain, and his body was overheating from using so much Od. Heaven's Will had a high cost with each swing— it was like a manifestation of the Prana Burst skill. This deep into the battle and a little over a third of his reserves had been wasted; and Artorius did not even look winded.
He had no choice but to let them dissolve into prana particles and redraw Derflinger.
Artorius released her blades to return to their floating spherical forms as she approached her beast. A loving hand of hers trailed from its back and slid up to its snout. Her amused smirk and elated eyes never left the King of Swords'.
"Graci, Vincitore," she spoke in Italian to the dragon, tilting her head just slightly in its direction while never looking away.
Both Shirous tensed as a wave of killing intent came rushing through them.
"Cacciarli," her command came with tender passion.
The dragon was upon the two of them faster than they could react. It bit into Sir Emiya's shoulder, piercing through his armor and digging is razor fangs into his flesh. Simultaneously, a large wing swatted at the King of Swords. Derflinger could not even cut into the softest region between its cartilage. Though nowhere near as powerful as Artorius had been, the dragon was capable of knocking him aside. And before Sir Emiya could recover, the dragon flung him towards the King of Swords with a whip of its head.
The two Shirous came tumbling over the other.
And had Artorius charging at them with a pair of broadswords— one in exact shape as Derflinger and the other mocking Arondight.
The King of Swords Traced a nameless straight sword in haste to block the two blood blades with his counterpart still sprawled over him. Derflinger clanked with his fake self but the straight sword shattered by the fake Arondight and nicked his knuckles. Sir Emiya flipped himself over and used the momentum to swing his Traced Arondight at her, which she dodged and countered with a swing to his lower torso.
The King of Swords saved him by deflecting it with Derflinger, ignoring the blazing of his hand and the blood beginning to soak the grip. But now he was open, and Artorius took the opening to slash at his neck. Swinging over his counterpart by less than an inch, Sir Emiya of the Round had scantly saved him. But even with the strength of Lancelot he could not overpower Artorius with just one arm.
A toothy smile of a predator split her face.
"Oi you crazy brod!" cried Derflinger when his blood reflection rammed again. "I do not look this ugly!"
Blood Derflinger met real Derflinger and Blood Arondight met its match. Even with two on one, Artorius was matching them with everything they threw at her. When the King of Swords Traced Sir Emiya's silver sword of Merlin to duel-wield with Derflinger, Artorius still had no trouble against them. She showed phenomenal skill and tactics with the way she was blocking and using her footwork to go against their awkward teamwork.
Not to mention her dragon joined in the second the King of Swords had his back facing it.
That tail nearly took his head off if he hadn't ducked. It showed its own precision of battle skill when this Shirou took notice the extension of the tail was just long enough to reach him but not its master, who was hardly a meter away from him. Naturally, Artorius went in for a stab that very second. The King of Swords parried and rolled aside as the tail came back to crush him in an arc from above. She knocked Sir Emiya's attack over, forcing his arm to extend over his head.
She hesitated. Unsure which one of the two to cut.
"I have created over a thousand blades."
Releasing the blade of Merlin and dropping Derflinger, the one-hundred and fifty inch katana of Kojiro Sasaki, the Monohoshi Zao, Projected in his grip. The land had been flattened out from their battle. The memories, experience, skills, and attributes of the Heroic Spirit of the katana flooded through the King of Swords. His stance was correct. The runes of the Gandalfr assured him he was about to fulfill an attack only the former Assassin of his War could perform.
And Artorius had hesitated. The dragon had yet to position itself to move anywhere from its last attack.
"Tsubame Gaeshi!"
A horizontal swing. A vertical swing. A diagonal swing.
The ultimate technique of Kojiro Sasaki matched the mysteries only capable through Second Magic, the Kaleidoscope. Three slashes executed at parallel time as though unleashed by three separate entities simultaneously within the same space. The Gandalfr replicated this technique down to the final detail, executing it without hindrance. Even the pain was not an issue.
But the technique belonging to one Heroic Spirit can be overcome if used against an equal or greater being, such as another Heroic Spirit.
Against all odds, against the narrow limit of time and luck, Artorius had dove herself through the miniscule hole of the technique not even Sasaki knew existed. She did not have time to retreat backwards nor could she have possibly parried all three blows. And so she had taken her only option without the hesitation she had shown before. The technique was designed to cut through the wind-sensitive sparrows by trapping it in a cage of slashes. It had been impossible for them to escape.
But apparently Artorius didn't apply.
Still, the dive had been quick, almost as if her body had been pulled by strings of instinct, and her entrance had been sloppy. Her recovery more so. Attempting to turn the dive into a stab, she had missed a vital and instead spliced the Blood Arondight through his waist. The tucked her legs in and rolled under the tail that struck both the King of Swords and Sir Emiya. The wind knocked out of them, spikes digging into their limbs, and metal plates of Sir Emiya's armor tearing off, the two flew for nearly three meters before being reunited with the unfriendly ground.
"Bravo!" Artorius stood and applauded as though she had been thoroughly entertained. The clanging of her gauntlets clapping echoed through the empty forest. "Meraviglioso!" The false Derflinger and Arondight returned to spheres. Her smile had changed from thrilled and bloodthirsty to one of pleasure and satisfaction.
"This War produces most wondrous Servants," she continued. "Alas, my Bloodlust is still too high for me to return to mi Maestro. Forgive me for an unfair defeat, but it must be done. Rejoice, for you have earned the respect of sans Atorii!"
The Shirous grunted as they struggled to stand. Sir Emiya using Arondight as a crutch and the King of Swords leaning mostly on his right leg.
Artorius whistled— this time in a song.
The white dragon roared and took to the sky higher and faster than they had seen it soar. One of the four red orbs followed, revolving around its body.
Neither knew what was about to transpire. They could only assume Artorius was about to unleash her Noble Phantasm. However, the King of Swords believed she was going to stop playing with them and go all out to kill them. Throughout the battle he had seen her match him on equal footing no matter what weapon had been used. She clearly had the strength to match the A++ blows created by Heaven's Will, yet she did not use it when he had only been using Derflinger.
She clearly could have killed them both a hundred times over and had instead sported fairly against them using skill alone.
But now that gift was gone.
"Unaware of loss, Nor aware of gain."
The King of Swords continued his aria and delved deep into the Unlimited Blade Works for what he needed. The blueprints for the axe-sword of Heracles came to his mind. He only needed to pull the trigger to bring it out and unleash the technique that could save their lives, Nine Lives (Blade Works).
"There is nothing you can do," she said with sorrow, actually saddened on their assumed, predetermined defeat.
Two of the red orbs circling around her came down and started to latch onto her clothing. They spread out, moved and bubbled like blown glass, melded and reformed just their bladed shapes. This time, they were taking on the form of armor to completely coat her, tracing over her cloth and armor as well as coating over her skin. The armor was blocky and designed specifically to block whatever was going to be unleashed in front.
The last of the red orbs came down when she extended a bulky gloved hand. It too began to grow and shape. Into the shape of a massive great shield.
"Fair thee well," her voice was muffled by the armor. "You showed potential in becoming another of my wives."
She knelt down and slammed the shield into the ground.
'Shit!' they both realized what it meant.
They had enough time to look up and see. High above them, the dragon had reached its peak at fifty meters over their heads. The Arthurian Shirou would not be able to understand what was happening, but the King of Swords knew and felt a lump of ice land in his stomach. The dragon opened its mouth and had snatched the blood orb Noble Phantasm into its jaws.
Those of the dragonkind have astounding characteristics only the greatest of beings in all of time could either replicate or surpass. The most noteworthy would be the Dragon's Breath. A dragon's lungs are treated as an entirely different dimension with its own universe of energy. Therefore, a dragon can produce endless supplies of prana.
All that prana was being pumped into Artorius' Noble Phantasm. Filling it beyond its limits, making it unstable, making it erratic—
Making it Broken.
Surrounded in a Dragon's Breath of white flames, Artorius' dragon fired the Broken Phantasm down onto Sir Emiya of the Round Table and the Gandalfr at a speed that broke the sound barrier upon release.
"Just Gladii!" announced Artorius.
Circuits flared as the King of Swords made a desperate move to save them both. Parallel to, Sir Emiya shattered the bones in his arm by activating his last Prana Burst and chucking Arondight to intercept the missile.
"Rho Aias!"
The circuitry of veins which made up his Magic Circuits glowed across his arm as he pulled his only defensive Noble Phantasm from the red hill. The seven layered shield of Ajax transformed when crystalized into a Noble Phantasm with each layer equivalent to the reinforced walls of a fortress.
Arondight shattered when it made contact with the Broken Phantasm missile, but it was more than enough to have it explode prematurely. A storm of white and red rocked them senseless. Even several feet beyond them, the blast had been destructive enough to tear through the first four layers of Rho Aias. The world vibrated as the torrent ate away everything. Even behind the barrier Noble Phantasm, Shirou could not stop himself from shaking and had punishing difficulty staying on his feet.
Layer five shattered with six straining.
And layer six shattered before anything could be done.
The King of Swords swore he was not going to die like this. He channeled more of his Od into the final layer of Rho Aias, making it just as unstable and turning it into a Broken Phantasm. He roared in defiance, Reinforced every bit of his clothes, his skin, his hair— everything he could to enhance his durability for what was inevitable.
The final layer was destroyed and both Shirou were swept away.
*Scene*
Rin was still debating whether she had imagined the white flash until the deafening boom behind the school sent her tumbling everywhere. Archer had been there to catch her and to shield her from the rain of glass the explosion had shattered from the building towering over them. Even Lancer had stopped when she was about to use her Noble Phantasm to brace herself.
It was called Dolorous-something. It was interrupted before Lancer could use it.
As quickly as it had come, it passed. Archer released Rin but she clung onto his arms as she had been dazed and disoriented. She will never admit it, but she was also a little frightened.
Lancer's attention was drawn away from the two when the sound of glass brushing against cement came from beyond the fence. Small groans came from a young man who had been caught in the blast but, luckily, had avoided most of the collateral damage.
Unfortunately, he had also potentially witnessed a match between Servants.
"I will do no such thing," said Lancer to her Master. She blinked, paused, and then hissed. "I am nothing like you, sinner. I shall not—" But then her eyes went wide and her head snapped at the witness. She grimaced but nodded in determination. "A moot point, but I must… concur with your statement; we've not the luxury of time with the potential of a threat. Very well. For the greater good his life will be forfeited."
Sensing his doom, the witness fumbled to stand and took off running back into the academy building. Lancer tucked her spear under her arm and gave chase, ignoring Archer.
Archer let her go as he had to deal with his own Master. "Rin, Lancer is going to—"
"What!" shouted Rin.
"I said Lancer—"
"Speak up!" she shouted again as she began to rub her ears. "I can't hear you."
"Oh for the love of…" Archer slipped into the mental link between Master and Servant, 'RIN!'
'Ow! What?!' she nearly jumped as the voice in her head boomed nearly as loud as the explosion.
'Now that I have your attention, Lancer just took off running towards the school. Someone else was here and had seen our fight. Based on the conversation she must have been having with her Master, I'm guessing she's going to kill the fool.'
Rin scowled, 'Archer, go after Lancer. Stop her. We can find out what other Servants were here after.'
Archer nodded firmly and disappeared into black and red particles. But without his support, Rin quickly lost her balance and stumbled to her knees. Glass cut into her legs and palms. The pain was the only thing keeping her from throwing up her dinner.
*Scene*
Artorius looked down at the dying boy before her. This poor unfortunate soul had been at the wrong place at the wrong time. The Fates were cruel but their rule was absolute. Even the gods, both True and Fake, could not defy them when their time came. Even the mighty Heroes, who had conquered death on occasion, could not evade it forever. Even someone as insignificant, capable of hiding in plain sight from his unworthiness, could not escape the clutches of the dark.
Except for Artorius.
Still hungry for battle, she had returned to observe the battle between Lancer and the red Servant. She had planned on intervening and challenge the red Servant. Now she had recognized the fighting style and craft used in his techniques. Those white and black swords were of the exact craft her recent foes had used against her. The form and muscle tone were different, but the facial structure as well as the body's bone stature was the same as the False Archer. Artorius could only conclude they were the same Servant with extensions of him.
But this boy both answered and provided questions. Moments after a Broken Dux Legionum, the two False Servants were starting to fade. Definitely not the same way a Servant fades after being defeated. Servants dissolve into prana to be absorbed by the Grail. They don't flicker between solid, transparent, to invisible. And both of them had indeed survived the Broken Phantasm. Albeit the one with runes was beaten beyond recognition and the armored one could no longer stand.
Pleased beyond words, she granted them mercy and let them live.
This dying boy was the incarnation of the Servants she faced. Artorius had watched as Lancer pursued him through the hallways and pierced his heart with a throw of her spear. A brow had been quirked when the boy's body had been impaled to the wall. She watched as he panicked and tried to pull it out. A sad, pointless attempt, but she admired his determination.
Lancer said a few words, prayers and apologies for the deceased, and pulled her weapon out of his torso. His blood leaked out faster. It was by this point the red Servant appeared and drove off Lancer. The two had jumped out of the windows in their silly squabble.
By now Artorius stared at the boy who will one day become a Heroic Spirit, contemplating on what to do. On one hand, when this boy dies his future selves will seize to exist and thus removing a potential threat from Artorius claiming the Grail for her Liege. On the other, removing him also removes the worthy challengers she just faced. They survived and had learned of her abilities; the next time they battled they will be better prepared and might be able to make her bend a knee.
By glory, if they could force her to draw her sword…
Her mind was made up. This boy shall live. She placed a hand on the hilt of the sword strapped to her back. Blutgericht unbound the seals placed and exposed Jus Gladii once more to the world. And once again, the World snarled at its existence.
*Scene*
Rin froze when she turned the corner and nearly ran into another Servant. She was shorter than Rin, admittedly beautiful, and clad in pristine white and silver armor. She could only be a Servant. Not just because of her overwhelming aura, or the thick scent of salt and rust in the air, but because Rin had caught the instant where she was placing that thing back into that monstrous chunk of metal that was a sheath. Only a Noble Phantasm could radiate such grand levels of prana that slanted the world.
And she was clutching her stomach and laughing. Perverse joy rang through the hallways as her knees were buckling. A second scent of honey and musk complimented the rust and salt.
The Servant turned. Her luscious emerald eyes observed Rin— like a piece of meat and judged what spices to use to cook her.
Rin had to take a step back.
"Master of the red Servant," she smiled. A smile so sinister, so carnivorous, so hungry it couldn't be real. "Join me at the estate of this young one and bring your Servant. I shall do battle with him and see if he is worthy of being my wife or mount above mi Maestro fireplace. Refuse and I shall end this one's life."
Like hell Rin was going to follow something like that. If she was going to follow this Servant anywhere it would obviously lead to a trap. And, though she wanted to minimize the casualties of the war, the life of this random student who stayed too late wasn't worth it. She didn't like it, but she wasn't going to throw her life away for someone she didn't—
"Emiya Shirou," the Servant said the name with such love it was like a drug.
Rin's eyes widened. Impossible. How could have this Servant known the identity of Archer? Unless they had met somewhere wherever Archer had come from? Had Archer met her somewhere when he was alive? Unless…
Her eyes wandered from the Servant to the body seated against the wall behind her. He was a young man about her age still dressed in the academy uniform. He had a mop of rust-red hair.
Emiya Shirou. Her Emiya Shirou.
"That is the name of your Servant, is it not?" the Servant continued with casual suave. "Yes, your eyes say everything. You also know this is the boy who will one day rise to the Throne to become the red one you summoned. I have spared him. But I shall not do so again. If you do not come, I shall end his life. I shall end the life of not just the red one in doing so, but of the other False Servants linked in his legend. You shall have thirty minutes to decide. I will not be kept waiting."
Turning her back towards Rin, she approached the unconscious boy and threw him over her shoulders. And with a great leap, she took off out of the window.
Rin had to fight back the bile rising. Archer and Lancer radiated power as Heroic Spirits, but this unknown Servant had leaked a heavy miasma that made Rin nearly faint. It was the fear that kept her standing. And now it was the will to save the fool that caused her so much trouble for the past few days.
'Archer,' she called her Servant.
'Rin, I lost Lancer,' he reported.
'Never mind her. We have a bigger problem.'
'You mean that explosion? We better hurry if we're going to investigate it. I can see the authorities approaching and will be here in ten minutes.'
'I met the Servant who may have caused it,' her tone turned grim as she paused for a moment. The radiance of the Servant still lingered in the back of her mind. 'She knows your identity. And she knows, somehow, I summoned more than one Servant. She has my time's Emiya hostage and says if we don't meet her challenge at the Emiya house she will kill him.'
There was a pause. She almost felt Archer groaning. 'It's a trap. Did it ever occur to you maybe this kid's her Master? Think about it. A second Servant battle happens behind us, this kid suddenly shows up, Lancer wounds him, and then suddenly this Servant appears by his side and takes him as 'hostage'? And the choice of arena is— conveniently!— at his house? It would also make sense if she can connect the dots between me and him if he is her Master.'
'But…' Rin had to agree with his logic. It was spotless. According to Archer, her other Servants were Masters of their versions of the War and had summoned Saber every time. This white Servant totally fit the bill of being a Saber with that sword-shaped thing. It looked like a trap. It sounded like a trap. Hell, it even stunk like a trap with all the conflicting flavors in the air.
But it didn't feel right. Like there was something telling her to go anyways.
She put her foot down, 'We're going. Even if what you say is true, we'll be willingly walking right into it prepared. It's better if we find out now than make him our enemy later.'
There was another pause as she felt Archer sigh. Even 'heard' him do it in the telepathic link. 'What a troublesome Master I have.'
*Scene*
From saving the boy with Jus Gladii, there had been a link made between her and he. She knew his name, she knew of his dreams, she knew of his history, she knew of his experience, and, above all else of value to her, she knew of his potential. One day this boy will rise to become not just any Heroic Spirit, but one who will one day be her equal. But if, and only if, the grand sea-storm of ever changing possibilities and the laws of the Fates could be defied.
She was determined to see it done.
The boy's memories led her here, to the large Japanese manor belonging to this Emiya Shirou. Vincitore returned to the subspace that was her 'legend', to be called upon with a little mana and tearing the fabric of space/time. Artorius had lied him down on the couch of his living room and left the lights on for him to awaken in haste. Already her Master was bombarding her with psychic attacks to break the mental barrier she was supporting. He was… upset, for lack of a better word. After all, she had saved three, possibly more, Servants who could match her in combat.
When Equal Footing was active, that is.
She sighed and allowed her Master to connect. "Maestro, send word to Lancer. The boy she wanted to hunt is still alive."
'Why did you revive him?' he asked in monotone, yet any being hearing the conversation could feel the malice leaking from him.
Artorius walked out of the manor, closed it, locked it, placed the hidden key back under the mat, and calmly strolled down the well-kept pathway of a fine lawn. She admired this one's work. Living all alone with hardly any help and yet he is capable of keeping up with a team's worth of chores. Impressive.
"You are too refined for me to hide anything. Very well; I have my personal reasons, of course. If you would like an excuse, let us say he shows promise. Right now he is dreaming of me being his savior. He shall link the dream and reality together when he awakens. We will have an ally."
'What do I care? What do you see that I cannot?'
"He is a Master. A very powerful one," she answered.
'And how do you know this?' the question came so fast it could have been a scripted conversation.
"I am a Servant," was her only reply. Oh, she knew everything about Emiya Shirou. She even saw the confrontation he had with Una Originale di Giove. Just like how Cain had been chosen by her Liege, Emiya Shirou had been chosen and was already under sponsorship with Jupiter's essence. Not to mention the marvelous Noble Phantasm of the Fair Folk inside him.
And that was only the surface that stirred her insides. But a lady never reveals her secrets.
'…Very well. I shall order Lancer to finish the job. Return to the temple.'
Cain was indeed as smart as she believed him to be. A normal, brainless, mundane individual of this useless modern age would have argued with her over the idea of such a plan. 'Why kill him when you just saved his life?' they would ask. But Cain understood. Cain understood it all.
Shutting the gate behind her, Artorius took her time strolling out of the neighborhood. Her armor became dispersed and she walked in her normal battle gown. It was a lovely night out. Why waste it?
*Scene*
Rin approached the Emiya estate with Archer. She was worried. Archer continued to try and talk her out of coming, but she didn't listen. She agreed completely with what he had to say but she ignored it anyways. There hadn't been something right about that Servant. Not just the killing intent, or the maddening smile, or the miasma of death. But just something else Rin could not put her finger on.
It was mostly woman's intuition, which was why Archer couldn't understand.
"Dolorous Stroke!" came the voice of Lancer beyond the walls of the Emiya house.
There was the sound of metal on metal, voices shouting, and then she saw Lancer hop over the wall… and keep going. She jumped from one roof to the next with all the speed she could muster, determined to get away as fast as possible.
Maybe it wasn't a good idea showing up…
A man garbed in leather armor with a large bow hopped onto the top of the wall, knocked an equally large arrow, and aimed.
"Fail-not," he muttered and released.
The arrow tore through the air and Rin swore she could see it drill through space. She could not keep track of the arrow however or if it ever did hit Lancer. The Servant with the bow had spotted her. Just as fast as before he knocked another arrow and launched it at her without warning.
Archer deflected it with one of his white blades and grunted as he was pushed back, feet actually sliding by the force of the arrow.
That was the signal for whatever lay beyond those walls to attack. Two more Servants burst through the gates and came at them both. Then another, and another, and another, and another—
Then many more.
Author notes Part 2!
So it's apparent no one reads the author notes anyways. I've gotten a lot of messages saying none of the stat sheets posted on the first chapter is correct. On the second chapter I mentioned they weren't and was planning on redoing them. I've researched it greatly and am still currently reviewing each Shirous' individual story as references. So please ignore it. I'll try to correct them as soon as I can. Before the next chapter anyways.
For the record, I have NO idea what Range means. Can someone clarify that for me?
For now, enjoy these stats.
Wise up! Servant stats!
Team Mars (2 of 4)
Proxy Master: Cain Adams
Servant: Lancer
Identity: Gaius Cassius Longinus
Strength: D
Endurance: C
Agility: C
Mana: B
Luck: E
Class Skills
None
Personal Skills
Instinct: B (At this rank penalties caused through the hindrance of lost eyesight is lessened greatly. Certain attacks can be avoided through precognition)
Eye of Mind (False): C (At this rank 'sensing' the presence of those around her one normally would through the five mundane senses is possible)
Protection of the Faith: D (Grants minor protection. Attacks that have at least 30% of missing are increased to 40%. Certain lethal strikes may be lowered to debilitating)
Saint: N/A (Automatic HP Recovery selected)
Noble Phantasms
The Spear of Destiny: C (Anti-Unit; Capable of piercing through magic or divine protections)
Dolorous Stroke: B+ (Anti-Unit; Ignores mystic protections produced through Magecraft or Divinity. Delivers a wound that will at least be debilitating. The higher the level of protections used by the target the more powerful the blow becomes. Capable of being lethal when against B and above Ranked mystic defenses)
Servant: Unknown ("Servant of Slaying: Artorius")
Identity: Lucia Artorius Castus
Strength: A+
Endurance: A
Agility: A+
Mana: B+
Luck: N/A
Class Skills
Riding: A++ (Creatures on the level of Phantasmal Beast and Divine Beast can be used as mounts. Those of the Dragon Kind must be forced into submission before being claimed as mounts)
Personal Skills
Bloodlust: B (Renders the psyche of the Servant driven to fight until satisfied. At this rank, Artorius can only be compelled to not fight with the use of a Command Seal or until satisfied. One battle every three days is required to keep her 'sane'. On the fourth day, Bloodlust builds up and can render the Servant berserk. Mental interference of most kinds are negated except those of A-Rank and above. Even then their effects are lowered noticeably. With B-Rank, can only control 4 Dux Legionum at a time)
Equal Footing: B (When facing a challenge meeting the Servant's standards, Parameters are altered to match the contested. At this rank, both Strength and Agility stats will match the same as the target's. When there is more than one target, Equal Footing will match the Parameters of the target with the highest ranking. Can also change when the target's 'Strength' and 'Agility' alter by any means)
Curse of the Fae: A+++ (Hinders the luck stat. At this rank, the Luck Parameter is reduced significantly, making Artorius' Luck non-existent. Pure skill alone can save her from attacks requiring 'Luck Check' or the use of a Noble Phantasm of equal or greater force)
Noble Phantasms
Vincitore- the white dragon of victory: A++ (Anti-Army; Bound by Artorius, Vincitore's Paramaters match that of her rider's. Max speed approximately 650 km/h. Those mounted upon Vincitore share its resistance to the laws of aviation. Capable of blocking A-rank attacks of physical and mystic kind with its scales and A+ physical attacks with its fangs, claws, and 'spikes'. Dragon Breath of 'photon light')
Dux Legionum- The Leader of Legions: A+ (Anti-Unit/Support; Capable of taking shape of any handheld weapon and armor if it is of reasonable size. Abilities of mystic weapons/armor Dux Legionum replicates are not carried over. Durability determined by the wielder's will to fight. Capable of withstanding A-Rank mystics and A++ physical attacks. Amount capable of being handled at a time is determined by the Bloodlust Skill)
Blutgericht- The Blood Court: EX (Support; Anything stored inside Blutgericht is considered within another dimension and cannot be reached unless unlocked. Made from materials not found from Earth, anything perceived through Gaia directed at the sheath will be ineffective)
Jus Gladii- The Right of the Sword: EX (?)
Last note.
I'm looking for a Beta. I think it's about time I ask for some support since I'm quite serious about this story. Anyone offering or know of any good ones to inquire about?
Posted 11/17/13
