Worn leather scuffed against the weathered stone of the stairs. His metal armor was marred with use, losing much of its original sheen in the overcast light. A worn bandoleer gently clinked against his armored back, matching the well-used brown of his boots and greaves. The metal of his opened knight's helm creaked as he looked up at the battered door before him, which he eyed with sunken, obsolete eyes.
The worn and shriveling face of the man looked before him before carefully placing his hands against the next room's entryway. He paused, listening carefully to the silence of the ruins around him. The feint groans of beings, like him, were feint over the loud, ominous steps from the floors below; He had grown less wary of that striding beast, which paid him no heed. Confident there was nothing waiting to ambush him among the shadowy floor above him, he placed his weight against the door.
Slowly, the wooden constructs gave way. With every step, they creaked open as dust fell around him. After pushing through, he looked around the next room carefully. He eyed ever nook cautiously as he walked through, though he stuttered to a stop when the door behind him closed with a bang. The warrior looked back, noticing there were no handles on this side to pull; The only way left was forward.
Weakened and defenseless, he carefully made his way through the room. Large vases and pots of age-old ceramic filled the sides, leaving a large aisle before him. He walked down it between its massive stone columns that ended in simple arches. Abandoned overhangs and stone-brick walls gave an air of entrapment, but there was a set of double door before him. As the overcast clouds above threatened to open up into a rain, he staggered towards the exit-
The warrior stopped completely with an open mouth, stunned that a vile, putrid beast, nearly five meters tall, had fallen to the floor to cut his escape. Bones protruded from it like alien worms, forming antlers and flanking spikes on its sickly gray skin. Tiny, malformed wings sprouted from its back, barely visible past its red, toothy glare. Though its stomach was massive and supported by short but mighty legs, its arms were deceivingly smaller.
They were at least large enough to wield the unholy, twisted ebony club.
With a roar, it swung it at the warrior who rolled backwards to avoid the strike. His armor scraped against the ground, causing sparks to fly as the demon walked forward. It raised its club backwards, telegraphing its next attack, but the warrior could only dodge back again. He was defenseless against this thing, and it knew it well. It practically grinned as it repeated the process to corner him against the first door.
With no where left to run, he changed tactics. He quickly ran towards one of the case sides, but the demon's sweep was deceptively large. The black club slammed into his leg, knocking it into an unnatural angel and causing the warrior to yell. He smashed to the ruined stone floor as vases burst around him. Quickly, he tried picking himself up, but the demon made for the finishing blow. With a quick raise of its club, it slammed it down on the warrior with a sickening noise.
Lord El-Melloi II cursed and dropped his controller next to him on the couch as a large screen in front of him spelled out, "You Died."
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Fragment 8: Insert Chance to Continue
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With the servants requesting a variety of different accommodations and luxuries for Chaldea to provide, it was only fair that employees had their own say in post-Fuyuki improvements. Breaks were still mandatory or the staff would lose efficiency due to fatigue and building stress, and entire days off were not uncommon. Some specialists even had more free time depending on their current purpose in the workforce. There was only so much to do as is in Chaldea, and they needed more outlets to shake potential cabin fever.
Any method to keep spirits high considering their circumstances had essentially become a necessity.
It is with this in mind that the Engineering Division wouldn't argue with the renovation of a new entertainment room so long as the workforce got to enjoy its benefits as well. The conditions were fair. This was the only instance where completion of a room required the staff to donate certain contraband that slipped through initial screening upon their entry. It was this place and the Strategy Center where one could most likely find Lord El-Melloi II.
The Game Room was self-explanatory unless you had the reading comprehension of certain berserkers. It was located on the floor beneath Salon de Marie and was split into two sections. As the larger of the two pieces, the first had the entrance and two custom built billiards tables. There were other round tables placed in the center of the room while still giving enough space for floor activities if necessary. Its walls were covered with newly installed shelves that held a bunch of board and card games of a wide age and variety.
A doorway led to the slightly smaller section that had a few standard couches, large screens that were originally monitors, several chairs, and a few coffee tables. The floor of this spacious alcove was covered with blue carpeting. Plenty of walking space was still available, and it was designed so everyone in the room could view the screens without interference. Though both could house several dozens with each, it was the second room that usually saw the most activity.
This was the section that housed the donated contraband, as the Animusphere family made it very clear that personal entertainment of the electronic variety was banned. Employees graciously donated much of their secret gaming consoles, found mostly among members of the Science and Engineering Divisions, for all to enjoy upon announcement of the room's construction. Thankfully, the donated items were treated with utmost care. Replacements were impossible to encounter unless a singularity happened in the recent past, which was a rare occurrence.
One of those donators of two game consoles sat on the opposite end of the white couch from the frustrated servant. Currently on a personal break day thanks to his specialization, he had his white socks, on one of the wooden coffee tables, and his nose buried in a strategy guide. His Engineering Division tie was completely loose and the top button of his uniform undone. He ran a charcoal colored hand through his black hair as he lowered the magazine to look at the screen in front of them. His brown eyes blinked twice before looking towards the servant.
The employee grinned at his friend.
The servant's choice of casual clothes contrasted heavily with how formally he usually dressed himself. Blue jeans and black socks rested against the soft carpeting. A dark green sweater had its front completely zipped open, its hood replaced with a simple collar. Underneath the sweater was a white shirt with a unique bronze design on the front showcasing the world. Written across it were several Japanese characters, but some English across the center spelled out Admirable. The grumpy caster turned towards the employee with a scowl.
"Don't even say it, Tyler," The servant grumbled, making the employee chuckle.
"I mean, I did say it already, y'know?" He smirked at the servant who rolled his eyes. "Dark Souls is famous as one of the toughest game series for a reason, Waver."
The caster clicked his tongue. "I'd argue this has more frustration than entertainment value."
"Ah, don't be like that! That was only the tutorial! That's the whole draw of it! You don't play it... You survive it and boast of getting good!"
Lord El-Melloi II and Tyler Fields were on very cordial terms, even a friendly rivalry, since they broke ice over a mutual interest in video games. They liked most types in general, though the caster was more specific in his preferences. The future rivals met after the room's creation when they wound up the final competitors in a Japanese fighting game tournament. It was the first contest, and the two had dominated their competitors in a show of supremacy.
Tyler is the only one who could evenly compete with the servant in any video game since his childhood was spent almost solely on said form of entertainment. He gladly spent all his break hours in the Game Room when he wasn't helping to maintain or refabricate parts for some of the units floating around the facility. All that free time spent in the room and interacting with the servant led to an eventual friendship, which was strong enough for the heroic spirit to allow the employee to call him by his real name, Waver Velvet.
The servant let out a sigh as he offered the controller to Tyler, who only shook his head when he held up a New Nintendo 3DS that was currently on but muted.
"I still don't get how you could stand trying to catch all four hundred of those bloody bastards," The caster grunted in amusement, picking up a nearby water bottle.
"Neither can Spartacus. Said something about Pokemon being oppression or something like that," Tyler chuckled as he looked back at the game guide he was holding. "And it's seven hundred now actually."
El-Melloi nearly choked on the water he was drinking, "…and here I am, remembering when there were only a hundred fifty of them."
"Oh don't you get started, Gen Wunner," Tyler said with a mock glare before putting the guide down. "Just found out how to get myself a Porygon Z!"
As he picked up the controller again, El-Melloi simply shook his head with a small scowl. It had been one of his hobbies to play video games and send back detailed reviews to the distributors. Some series he had continued to play and fill out their survey cards, but Pokemon had lost his interest after the third generation. They had simply rehashed the same design repeatedly, so if all that changed were the characters and variety, he had not further interest. Dare he say, it was akin to replaying a damn Grail War in different colors, but with more diversity and an unholy amount of repetitive grinding.
The underlying strategy was nice though.
Still, he had to give respect where it was due for the employee. He voiced it a few times, but the caster figured Tyler never paid much attention to it. Determination and drive to complete what he set out to do was a respectable quality, and the employee had that in spades. It was simply exasperating that ambition was directed solely at video games. El-Melloi figured the employee in his mid-twenties would have been as much of a genius as his coworker Anton if he put more effort into work.
Perhaps the casually friendly employee just needed a mentor to point him in the right direction… not that he'd be the one to do it. He could mentor someone like Paracelsus or Scathach did, but his gaming rival was out of the question. He's a mage, and he was an engineer. Though he didn't have as much distaste for technology as the rest of his affiliation, that stuff was simply out of his league.
His scowl increased. Action games were out of his league too, especially when compared to the types he favored. Regardless, he hit the continue button, making Tyler look up and laugh. "Alright! You're slowly turning into one of us masochists! Praise the sun!"
"I am not. I'm simply not going to let a tutorial get the better of me."
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"Showing up for strategy night, Cu Bro?"
"Nah. That stuff doesn't interest me and Scathach wants to spar. I might watch the beginning while waiting for her."
"Just though I'd ask since you're here," Tyler shrugged as the male servant sat on the couch between them. "Which fighter?"
He scratched his chin in slight thought. "I'm feeling Soul Caliber this time."
While the blue hair on top was cut shorter, the back was long and neatly made into a ponytail. His red eyes observed Tyler as he saved his game and placed his personal handheld away. Slowly slouching into the couch, but letting his white socks stop at the coffee table, the man exhaled slowly. He scratched his chest, slightly wrinkling the once neatly pressed green Hawaiian shirt plastered with yellow hibiscus. Quickly, he raised his arm and casually caught a game controller without looking.
Cu was technically another member of a core gaming group that consisted of Tyler, two of his friends, and a few servants. It was unusual to think the great Hound of Ulster would be even remotely interested in these things, but it made sense considering his favorite genre. When no one was around to spar, fighting and party games provided a great way for him to burn time. Thankfully, his competitive drive didn't go too overboard during the events.
That over-competitiveness was almost strictly between the caster and the employee. El-Melloi smirked at the thought. Though he could call him a friend, their rivalry would often heat up very rapidly once they were against each other. Names, taunts, and choice comments would fly faster than their fingers across the controllers. Bragging rights were king between the top two gamers. The caster wasn't much for reputation, but that changed when the occasional nicknames became a thing. Thankfully, none of his fellow servants used them.
"You want in next round, Scowly?" Tyler asked with a small smirk, making Cu chuckle.
"I'll pass."
"Don't worry, El-Melloi II. I'll soften him up so he's a pancake at the tournament later."
"Yea okay, it's on now, Cu," Tyler chuckled as the game started up on the screen.
El-Melloi rolled his eyes as he got up from the couch. "You two have fun with that. I need a smoke before the strategy meeting."
"Aight, have a good one, bro. And don't be late to the RTS tournament at five!" Tyler yelled out without looking away from the selection screen. "I'm taking your champion title for the next week."
"What bravado. I patiently await to see your face after I wipe the floor with it," the servant shot back with a smirk as he exited the room. It was definitely one of the few times his competitive spirit ignited into partial arrogance, but he enjoyed it. It brought back fond memories of a certain loud servant.
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"Calm day… strange," Lord El-Melloi II murmured as he walked up the catwalks to the nearby ridge.
He glanced back at Chaldea with his hands in his pockets before turning back to his climb. The sweater remained unzipped since it wouldn't be billowing out of control, like his exhaled smoke, in the usual gusts. Still, the snow fell lightly around him as he took a cigar container out of his pocket. He smoked them less often than cigarettes since they were more expensive to acquire.
Truthfully, he didn't have to go this far for a smoke. It wasn't uncommon for him to take his break near the Shooting Range or the catwalks towards the Training Grounds. The caster was simply being considerate for those around them, especially if any of Chaldea's child servants were nearby. He didn't want the girls to get any ideas, or else he might receive some reprimanding from their loving mother. The idea of not accidentally teaching the violent, dismembering assassin new bad habits was a funny thought.
Atalanta had taken an entire month to shake Jack's habit with plurals.
The caster finally crested the ridge as he lit the cigar. It only took him one time with the lighter thanks to the conditions. Usually the wind would force him to use a fire spell thanks to the increased repertoire he gained from Zhuge Liang. Whether or not the real heroic spirit approved of the smoking or not, he didn't know. Since they had combined body and mind, he had not heard from him again. He didn't even feel any change in his personality, only a large increase in strategic and combat prowess.
Luck was on his side. It had always been on his side, it seems. He had made it through a past war rather unscathed compared to most. Allowed to live on, he had even become a respected member of the Mages Association. Though there were still many obstacles and difficulties, luck had shined on him since his pride and arrogance got the better of him during Kayneth's lecture. However, there was no greater luck than who the catalyst summoned for him during the Fourth Holy Grail War.
El-Melloi looked up as he filled his mouth with the vivid taste of the cigar. It was almost as clear as the flavor, but his mind etched out that muscular form. The light had been similar to the diffused glow from the snow as he first laid eyes on the rider. He could still remember that flowing red cape whenever he stood before him, ready to challenge everything and everyone for his simply dream. Yes, El-Melloi had been lucky to find his inspiration back then.
The same could not be said for the fallen before him. He exhaled calmly. "I hope you're all resting easy."
His eyes gazed across the rows of graves that overlooked Chaldea. Not many employees still made the climb, but some still did. It was harder for them, especially with the altitude, but he would make the trip along with other servants. Many had perished during Fuyuki, including the cryo-frozen masters, and he would make sure these victims won't be forgotten. Hundreds had died, but some still lived to continue their task.
It was an inspiring thought. Though many could still smile and laugh, he could tell the other emotions still lingered. They had been months without family and friends, even without counting it was a secret organization. Many had lost an acquaintance. Still, they persevere for humanity and the fallen with ambition, purpose, and determination. It was admirable and inspiring by definition, both them and the techmaturgic facility they operated.
"I wonder what you'd think of this place, Rider," he murmured into the falling snow as he exhaled the smoke.
The silent air answered him, and he simply chuckled. "Would you ask Gilgamesh for a rematch? Would your opinion of Arturia change if you saw her now?"
With a chuckle, he asked the rhetorical question in his head. He liked to believe he knew the answer, and it was even spoken to him directly. To even question it was stupid, but he had followed in those footsteps and stared at that visualized back more times than he could count. It was what drove him after all.
'Have I proven loyal and worthy, my King?'
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The Strategy Center, sometimes called the Intel Hub, was located near the Summoning Chamber. Its sole purpose was to hold the archives of all past singularities and house a collection of data regarding all known forms of combat, strategies, and tactics. It was a meeting place before deployments as well, especially if a pre-leyshift scan provided vital intel of the area. Besides that, the Intel Hub was only ever occupied by a few people at a time.
The room was very spacious as it was designed to house several dozen magi, but now remains nearly empty due to the Fuyuki incident which took many of the tactical staff. A central table was covered with various open books and documents taken from the surrounding cabinets and bookshelves. There were several computers as a new addition since the fallen mages could no longer complain about directly using technology. One large monitor on one wall displayed an overhead map of the lastest minor singularity visited during the Japanese Edo Period.
Slouching in one of the chairs around the central table, Gudao stared at the report in his hands with tired eyes. Across from him, Lord El-Melloi II scanned through other documents regarding Solomon and his London notes. It was a rare time the pair were able to find some stable time to look through the notes regarding the Grand Caster, with constant supply sorties, emergency singularities, paperwork, and report logs taking up most of Gudao's time. As he let the document slip to the ground, the master rubbed his eyes and groaned, earning a small glance from the servant.
"You should probably take a nap," the man spoke, flipping a page in a log book. "Can't have you passing out and possibly drooling on some documents."
"Harr harr, Adviser, harr harr. Taking quip notes from Gabby, now?" Gudao responded blandly before picking up the document he carelessly dropped, trying to fix the edge of the paper that bent on impact.
"We have been at this for three hours," the caster stated. "While I'm more surprised there hasn't been an interruption from a random servant-related incident, I'm equally disturbed that there's still much about Solomon that we don't know with our notes. It only seems to get worse the more we research what he may be capable of."
"While I'd rather we not encounter him again soon, we may need to in order to figure out his motives and why he's holding back so much. Perhaps a limit?"
"At very worst he's just toying with us."
That's what bothered the caster the most. Solomon had given quite a show of power during the singularity's final stages, yet that was only a fraction of what he was capable of using. As a demoralization tactic, it should have worked rather well, and it did shake Gudao's confidence momentarily. Thankfully, he and Mashu had managed to shake him out of his fall. If that was him playing with the Chaldean force, then what was his full capabilities?
"I wish there was someone here who knew what he was truly capable of."
"We haven't had any luck on summoning David. If anyone would know, it would be the legendary father who fell the giant. I can't imagine many of the others related to his legend would have as much of a chance to become a heroic spirit."
Gudao sighed in disappointment and discontent. "Then all we can do is bolster the servant force and hope."
El-Melloi looked at the master in concern. The man had gone through much since his arrival in Chaldea, and he was impressed he was still confident and holding together. His resolve had been faltering as of late, but that was mainly due to his overworked condition and piling worries. For the entire world to be shouldered essentially on one master was a weight he would wish on no one. Perhaps, for everyone's sake, he should bring up the idea of searching the staff for a second possible candidate.
The double doors of the room opened and tore their attention away. They stared at the interruption, who looked at the pair with lovely rose red eyes. Long white hair flowed down her back which matched the color of her skirt. Her burgundy blouse matched her eyes in vibrancy and was paired with a small, black neck piece pinned by a crystal brooch. Black tights were tucked into thigh high, white boots that zipped closed from the front. A pale skinned hand held back one of the bangs that framed her gorgeous facial features as she stared inquisitively at the two men.
"Need something, Irisveil?" The lord asked, his eyes returning to the document in front of him.
"Sorry for bothering you two, but Gudao, it's about time for the summoning," the woman stated softly.
Gudao checked his watch and smacked his forehead. "Right, time flies. We're just using the surplus generated from today, right?"
Irisveil nodded. "I believe so. Roman didn't say anything changed, at least."
"Are we going to use the shard of the round table we recovered as a catalyst?" the male servant asked, curiosity rising.
"The Research Lab is still determining its estimated age to make sure it's part of the round table. I just don't want a surprise in case something more chaotic and violent gets summoned in its place."
El-Melloi cringed at that thought. Arriving after the French Singularity, he had been surprised to find the maddened Lancelot once more. Though relatively under control by the master, the idea of a rampaging berserker manifested upon Spartacus' arrival. That servant was beyond a headache, especially if any Romans were in the vicinity. Thankfully any damage he caused was limited to cut walls and broken lights thanks to sparring sessions, but it was still something unwanted.
Grail forbid if a much more chaotic berserker wound up within the walls.
"It has yet to happen, but I understand the caution," the former professor stated. The last thing Chaldea needed was to have its sole source of spiritual reinforcements destroyed.
"Almost did when Heracles arrived. Thankfully he listened to me before he attacked Tesla and Scathach. I can't imagine if we summoned Darius or Lu Bu," Gudao replied as he got up and walked towards the exit where Irisveil patiently waited.
"Don't curse it, you might just accidentally summon them now," Grunted the servant, making the master chuckle nervously.
"I'll be back within the hour."
The door closed, leaving the caster alone in the Command Center.
'Guess I'll see if I can come up with anything else until he gets back. Maybe change subjects for a bit,' Waver thought to himself as he moved a stack of books from Gudao's former side of the table to his own.
He checked the clock on the monitor and turned back to the document in his hand. It was a small collection of manuscripts from Jerusalem. He still had a few hours before the tournament began, and he could always use the virtual beat down as a stress reliever anyway. It always made the dinner afterwards taste much better. The servant smirked as he pictured Tyler's glare when he defeated him in the racing tournament the past week.
There was a rustling sound, followed by the caster's groan. "Another paper avalanche. Spectacular."
A loose stack of papers fell off a nearby cabinet, causing the servant to look at the small avalanche and groan. He got up and walked over to the scattered documents. He began slipping papers back into their folders neatly and rolling his eyes at the lack of proper organization. There were folders from very different singularities stacked together with no real relevance from a passing glance. He'd have to chastise Gudao about proper organization, or perhaps see if Tyler could reprogram one of the robots to sort this disaster of a room.
Waver stopped stacking folders and felt a mirthful smile grace his features. Had anyone been around he would have done a better job keeping a scowl on his face, but the name of the folder he picked up brought some fond memories to the servant. How could it not? It was a singularity of those interesting days.
He opened the folder and glanced at some of the images taken by Gudao during that singularity nearly seven weeks ago. His handwriting was present on countless loose log pages. Not caring about his master's occasional lack of proper detail in the report, he simply read through the descriptions of certain sections of the conflict in Fuyuki, specifically the ones involving a boisterous rider and his naïve master.
The servant sat down as he let nostalgia take the reins of his attention. This had been the singularity when Irisveil joined the organization and became a capable caster class. It was also the event he had remembered his frustration regarding a certain servant and his infrequent knack for trying to derail their objective throughout the entire campaign. He could have done without the small reminders of how much of a novice he was when he was younger, but the final conflict between him and his former servant more than made up for it.
To fight against Iskandar as an equal was beyond his imagination, and he was glad it happened.
Closing the folder, he sat there quietly. After a moment, he stood up and returned it to the disorganized stack. Upon sight of the various documents thrown carelessly about the room the servant groaned, and his trademark scowl returned to his face. Maybe he could do a little cleaning just so he wouldn't have to look at this mess longer than he needed. He had taught the master much about strategy and tactics, but maybe organization should be next.
To be fair, Gudao was a neat freak, and this mess was mostly Da Vinci and Roman's fault.
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Armor clanked as Roman legionnaires recollected themselves after the recent fight. A few servants dashed through the surrounding woods with lighter armed scouts, assuring the area really was clear. Atalanta's silhouette dashed to a taller tree to provide a longer sight picture. Well below her, the master was flanked by his closest servant and the male advisor.
"Dammit. That was sloppy and reckless. I lead us right into that ambush."
"Bless your luck, then. We made it through just fine."
El-Melloi studied the heavily breathing Gudao. Mashu remained at his side as he sat on the ground against the trunk of the large tree. The other servants were scattered about, ensuring the offensive from the attacking army had been halted. By the reports from Empress Nero's troops, there shouldn't have been any troops on route to Massilia. It was clear there had to be some investigation into report quality.
The ambush by the road had not caused any casualties in the servants, but a few troops from Nero's legions had been killed. She didn't blame him, and took the responsibility herself. It was clear to El-Melloi Gudao still blamed his own inexperience and poor insight. There was no sign Gudao wanted to talk about it though.
"How much longer until we meet these allies Nero talks about?" Gudao asked as Mashu handed him a bottle of water. He finished the drink and handed it back, making the demi-servant more concerned for him. Fou's ears twitched on her shoulder in worry.
"Senpai… I'll go refill the bottle at the river. I'll see if Marie and Emiya have found anything to make you a snack when I get there," She nodded firmly before quickly walking off.
Gudao watched her disappear into the brush, before quickly turning to the caster. "Tell me truthfully, Lord El-Melloi II. How bad did I screw up?"
The caster fished a cigar out of the pocket of his coat. "We shouldn't have walked on top of the ridge, but mistakes happen. Learn the lesson."
Gudao looked down at his feet and sighed. "Nero was adamant on getting to the destination on time."
"She may be the empress here, but we are a separate force. I know you prefer to be a diplomat and play nice, but there comes a point you have to make strategic decisions and suggest alternate means for your allies. You have an issue with being assertive, Gudao."
To his surprise, and respect, Gudao nodded in agreement. "Gabby complained about that more than I could count."
"No one's perfect," El-Melloi stated as he took a small puff of the cigar. "Do not chastise yourself so hard for this failure. It's clear Emiya did a fine job when you're giving commands with confidence in a fight, but you still have quite a bit to go."
Gudao met his eyes and nodded. For a few moments, he looked unsure, before the resolve returned. He stared firmly at the caster. "Can you give me any lessons on strategy and tactics? I want to become a better master for Chaldea."
With an exhale of smoke, he nodded. "Perhaps I should have offered upon my arrival over a week ago. It is good to see you acknowledge your shortcomings though. If it's strategy and tactics, I can help with that thanks to my newfound knowledge."
With a sigh of relief, the master quickly smiled and nodded. Truthfully, the caster was relieved. Though clearly inexperienced, the master had an almost borderline fearlessness when directing the servants in combat. He had been worried this would translate to arrogant bravado, but it was clear the master knew his limitations. It wasn't that his strategies were particularly bad in combat, but there were still some holes that needed to be filled. There were even marks of brilliance in his ingenuity.
That order for Medusa to let Atalanta provide aerial fire support from the Pegasus had been a decisive play earlier in the campaign. Honestly, it made him curious. "I simply need to know what you understand so far, so I know where to begin."
Gudao nodded and shrugged. "I know some basic strategy like numerical superiority, clear sight lines, and using the high ground."
'That's why we walked the ridge,' El-Melloi thought with a nod. Still, basic strategy didn't involve that ingenuity with airborne attacks. That was much further down advanced and expert coordination. "And air superiority?"
"I learned most of that from my dad. He was really big on that sort of thing, and I am too. I think air superiority is key."
The caster's interest suddenly grew. At least now he knew which way to properly guide the master, just like Iskandar had for him. Though he didn't know it, the rider had subtly picked up what the young, naïve master had truly needed. With words of encouragement and leading by example, he truly did give Waver the means to improve. He wasn't expecting to become some sort of idol for Gudao, but at the very least, he now knew more than enough to fix his problems while encouraging his personal interests.
"Alright. We'll see if we can't remove those second-guessing and brooding issues while teaching you proper strategy and tactics. Just be warned… I'm a stern professor."
¨·..·¨·..·¨·..·¨(¯ˆ·.¸ VII ¸.·ˆ¯)¨·..·¨·..·¨·..·¨
"H'oh yea! Wooooooo and that's good game, gentlemen!" Tyler grinned as he set his controller down, some grunts and sighs coming from his fellow players on the couch.
"Geez, trying to wear yourself out for the tournament later?" El-Melloi asked from the doorway as he shook his head.
"The strategy is working! You'll owe me for it later," Cu joked with an exasperated expression. He had just clearly been defeated.
"I wish my skills in these were even half as golden as his," chuckled the muscular man on the far end of the couch.
His fully exposed chest revealed a golden necklace that matched a shining belt with 'Gold' written on a giant buckle. White formal pants lead to equally dark socks that rested on the edge of the coffee table near a crumpled blue dress shirt that presumably belonged to the servant. Dark sunglasses covered his eyes, which was peculiar indoors but anyone who knew this enthusiastic servant acknowledged it was his thing. The sharp features of his face were framed by cropped, bright blonde hair. Unlike the Irish lancer next to him, the Japanese berserker was grinning.
"Just keep playing, Brotoki. You'll be able to smash Waver or myself someday," Tyler encouraged, making the blonde-haired servant laugh. The caster rolled his eyes from the doorway. "And you know that grumpy caster won't stand a chance against me tonight, Cu Bro."
"Quit talking like I'm not here, Tyler."
"Oh hey, Grumpy McGrumps-a-lot! When'd you get here?" The employee quickly dodged a thrown pillow from another couch as the other two servants laughed. "Ayyy, but seriously... Aren't you supposed to be in a strategy meeting with Gudao right now?"
"He's a bit late, so I presume there's a new arrival," the caster noted with a sigh. "I'm just here to request my bracket be moved later in case I run late."
"Yea sure, we'll just switch you to the last one. No big deal," Tyler waved off. The tournaments were rather lax save for their rivalry.
"Thanks," he nodded. "I'll see you three later then. I'll head back to the Command Center."
"Cool stuff, see you in a bit, Wabro." Cu chuckled at Waver's forced nickname as the caster walked out of sight. His presence quickly faded.
The lancer picked up the controller again as Tyler set up the next round on the screen. A few beeps and menu swaps later and the screen returned to a roster selection consisting of several different characters. The selection range was wide, running a gauntlet between an elf bearing a sword and shield to a mummified individual with dual katars. The trio began moving their cursors to select their chosen champions as a timer ticked down from the corner of the screen.
"Ora-Ora," Kintoki grinned as he selected a yellow electric rodent as his champion. "I'm getting you to one life this time."
"Tch, Not before I get you both," Cu stated as he chose a burly figure in a metal diving outfit, complete with a large drill for one hand.
"Here, I'll pick a character that sucks," Tyler smirked as he selected a small, pink ball with red shoes. The other two laughed.
The employee's friendship with the legendary Cu Chulainn and Sakata Kintoki had been easily founded with El-Melloi's help. It was also thanks to the robotic expert's very outgoing attitude and friendly disposition. The man never felt intimidated by servants like the magi were, but rather saw them as celebrities. It was totally rad that he could hang out with important historical figures.
Tyler's friendship with the two solidified completely on their initial interest in video games when the room was finally constructed. He was more than happy to show them the ropes, though it did start with fighting games since that was Cu's real interest. Since then they've been a close-knit group when around, with Lord El-Melloi II making it a quadra. Cu was usually hanging with his fellow Irishmen, but they still counted him since he fit rather well.
The lancer and berserker couldn't peg the strategist as a game fanatic, and were even more surprised he was so good at them, specifically the Japanese or strategy variety. While there was always curiosity about why, the only answer they received was that it brought back fond memories; The small glint of nostalgia in his eyes proved it. Deciding to leave it as a mystery, and since Tyler never really questioned it, the duo's attention switched to attempting to dethrone the dynamic gaming rivals.
As the stage loaded up on the large monitor, the chosen champions were dropped onto the floating castle stage and the game began. The sounds of mashing button filled the room, along with small grunts, chuckles, and random commentary as the trio smacked each other virtually for dominance. Occasionally items spawned onto the field, leading to much mischief and shenanigans as the two servants used them to try and level the field against the skilled gamer.
As they were playing, they heard the door to the main room slide open again. Tyler glanced the clock and saw there was still an hour until the tournament gathering and shrugged.
"Huh, crazy. Fernando or Lisa got here early," he shrugged as his champion knocked the electric rodent off the map, eliciting a complaint from Kintoki.
"It's a servant. Definitely has the presence, but a rather strong one," Cu noted curiously.
The sounds of heavy footfalls made the employee raise an eyebrow, his friends following soon after. Their champions stopped moving on screen as they simultaneously turned towards the entryway to the virtual section in time to meet the figure that had just walked through. The employee's curiosity peaked as he eyed the large man and guessed he was a new serv-
The sound of a high-pitched yelp from the screen brought Tyler's attention back to the monitor where he noted his champion's lives had dropped by one and Cu was laughing. Kintoki soon snickered alongside the blue haired servant as Tyler's eyes switched between the lancer and the screen rapidly.
"Dude! Cheap!" He scolded, even if there was a grin on his face. "Oh it's on now! It's ON!"
"You should've paused the game, champ!" Cu yelled as he brought his laughter under control, moving his character to run away as Tyler's pursued its new priority target.
Tyler brought his own chuckling under control and passed glances towards the individual who just entered, "Never seen you before. You new here big guy? And more importantly… you want in on the next round? We got space for one!"
¨·..·¨·..·¨·..·¨(¯ˆ·.¸ VIII ¸.·ˆ¯)¨·..·¨·..·¨·..·¨
Lord El-Melloi II checked his watch and sighed, shaking his head before nodding and waving as Arturia and Jeanne passed in the hallway. As they turned down a corridor, he heard the familiar chuckling of Astolfo as well. He picked up his pace a little and let out a sigh, wishing he could take another smoke break outside if he wasn't a tad pressed for time. The servant turned away from the corridor that led to a small observation deck near the firing range and into an open, empty elevator.
The tournament started five minutes ago. Thankfully he asked for the bracket shift.
The caster and master had been going over new formations in the Command Center after Gudao returned much later than expected. The caster's most recent creation was to utilize a new spearhead tactic that paired mounted riders with archers to create a new breaching technique against defensive positions on open ground. It was just one of many new strategies and tactics in the playbook that he had helped Gudao create, along with the input of several other servants. It could have been rather handy in America.
The servants could usually handle anything that presented itself, but the prana efficiency and building fatigue left a lot to be desired before dedicated formations and techniques came into play. No one had argued how much easier the singularities had become after actual combined arms coordination was introduced. As opposed to winging it and relying on sheer weight of individual skill and instincts, it gave a solid base of reliability. Those lessons for Gudao, and his continued advising, had truly paid off.
The servant had inquired, while taking a small break from the formation brainstorming, about Gudao's tardiness. The man had intended to scold his master on keeping his word when he returned nearly an hour later, but decided against it upon learning he was giving a new servant a tour of the facility. Normally Gudao would be excited about a new servant and talking up a storm, but at the moment he was practically a walking zombie. El-Melloi had done most of the talking since he returned, noticing the master's drowsy state.
It was actually the servant who called the end of the small meeting upon noticing the time, and realizing he probably would only get snores out of a practically sleeping master.
The ring of the elevator door opening brought him out of his thoughts as he walked down the hallway towards the Game Room. He could already see the increased traffic and bustle of the place. Some younger employees and servants chatted in the vicinity of the open doors, while more were inside. Sighing to himself, he buried his hands in his pockets and walked forward.
There was no real need to mentally prepare as Tyler was his only real competition. The rest of the tournament considered third place the start of the real winning placements since the employee and servant were practically gods. He jokingly speculated if being a video game god could grant divinity. As he neared, a woman and a certain demi-servant turned their attention to him as they likely waited for someone.
"Good evening, Gabrielle."
"Hey! Strategy meeting went long?" The female employee with golden eyes asked as he neared the door. She wore the standard uniform for the Chaldea Magecraft Division and had shoulder length orange hair, part of it tied into a small ponytail on one side. The servant mused her uniform was tighter than it should be for her top, which was typical for her. It still remained a partial curiosity if it was the reason she was a little more popular than most employees around Chaldea, though her sunny personality was likely the real reason.
"Gudao wasn't keeping track of time, but it's alright. I sent him to take a nap before dinner," the servant stated as he glanced into the room. There were roughly two dozen presences total, which was the norm. While it would be hard to find a place to sit, there was still plenty of room to walk around. The young woman sighed and shook her head.
"He's so overworked. It's ridiculous! He needs better sleep!" She grumbled, and he smirked. It was reassuring how much she cared.
The woman's mood quickly flipped, and she winked and nudged the quiet demi-servant next to her. "And he also needs to let loose sometime and enjoy himself. You can help him with that again, right, Mashu?"
"P-Please Gabby, I told you I was drunk and…" She trailed off, her shade of red turning brighter by the second.
The employee laughed and patted her on the back as the servant gave the pink haired girl a sympathetic nod and small smile. It didn't help her flush in the least. That incident had gotten around the facility, though at least Scathach and Cu managed to stop Kiyohime. Mashu turned away and looked down as the caster walked into the room.
¨·..·¨·..·¨·..·¨(¯ˆ·.¸ IX ¸.·ˆ¯)¨·..·¨·..·¨·..·¨
After getting several cheers and comments in the other section, El-Melloi made his way towards the back. Tyler, who was leaning in the entryway, spotted him and waved the man over before turning his attention back to the interior of the virtual section. Another simultaneous cheer rose through its inhabitants as war sounds echoed from the game.
"And here I thought I was going to get the title easily," Tyler joked as Waver smacked him on the arm, causing the shorter man to laugh.
"As if," The caster rolled his eyes and stared into the room. "So who's fighting in this bracke-"
His voice caught in his throat as his eyes widened upon recognition of the muscular man on the couch. There was no way he could mistake that leather chest piece and accompanying battle dress. His sandal clad feet fidgeted and rocked endlessly with excitement. The caster eyed the fiery red hair and beard, heard the booming laughter, and noted black eyes full of enjoyment. It was humorous to view such a large, muscular figure sitting on a couch and manipulating a game controller that looked tiny in his grip, but to Waver it was the first moment he saw his king once more.
"You should see this guy play! Man, he's a natural! Might actually give Tatiana and Jared some competition!" Tyler stated in amazement before noticing his friend's stare.
The crowd within the room cheered as the muscular man stood up and thrust both arms into the air, one hand still firmly gripped to the thankfully wireless controller as he yelled in victory. He quickly shook hands with the blue haired employee he battled with before giving him a rough pat on the back, sending him to the floor with much laughter. Handing the controller to the next contestant, he stepped away from the couch and met the eyes of the caster.
"Yo, you alive, dude?"
Tyler looked curiously at the stunned servant next to him before looking at the new servant. The room had grown progressively quieter upon noticing the silent exchange, interest leaving the tournament momentarily as the two servants stared each other down. Kintoki looked between the two servants from his spot where he leaned on the wall, confused at the look of nostalgia and relief in the caster's eyes and the recognition in the rider's own. The blue haired lancer next to him, who had been present in the singularity, simply grinned and watched in understanding.
"Hey! Earth to Waver, you're making a scene with your goo-goo fuck eyes, bro," Tyler stated which instantly snapped the attention of the caster to him, returned the man's trademark scowl, and earned the smirking employee a smack behind the head to much laughter. "I was just kidding!"
"I had my suspicion… So it really was you, boy," The muscular rider stated as he stepped towards the caster, his attention centered once more on the man. The next bracket began selecting their factions for their round in the background.
"It's good to see you again, Iskandar, my king," Waver stated as he kneeled on the ground and bowed his head towards the servant. Tyler, who noticed he was too close to the reunion, snuck into the room past the two to join Cu and Kintoki on the back wall.
"Stand up, Waver. You may still be my retainer, but here we are equals and allies, no longer adversaries or master and servant," he said with a laugh as the caster stood and nodded, giving the rider a smile. "And judging by that familiar shirt you're wearing, I expect you will finally play some games with me this time."
"Of course, idiot," Waver stated jokingly, with a small, mischievous glint in his eye which Iskandar caught, causing him to raise an eyebrow.
"But in this room, you've got a long way to go if you want to equal me."
"Not for me, Scowly Scrub! I'll taste your tears of defeat tonight!"
El-Melloi fumed. "Tyler, you bloody son of a-"
Rider's laughter boomed though the room.
