Nerve Damage

Disclaimer: I do not own Fate/Stay Night. There, now will you lawyers PLEASE stop stalking me?!

Note: If there are any grammar, spelling, or information mistakes, please tell me. I hate mistakes.

Not much action here, but not all chapters can have battles. Next chapter WILL though.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The wind was the first sign of Rider's presence.

At first it was a small breeze, barely noticeable.

A second later, it had turned into a gust, and by the time Shirou had turned to face the source, it was a gale that shook the treebranches, and the wingbeats of her legendary mount was audible.

The sight of the Pegasus couldn't help but awe him. And how could it not?

It was a beast straight out of a legend, a pure white steed, with wings that seemed to envelop his vision with its size and shining with the light of a star. It was a noble steed with its own proud mind, and he wondered what kind of hero Rider was, for the Pegasus to have allowed her to use it as a mount.

The Pegasus flew in front of them, then hovered and lowered itself the ground, disappearing without a trace as Rider dismounted.

Nero grinned at the sight of her. "So, what did you find?"

The statuesque woman seemed to frown. "Something dire."

Alter, now clad in a different black dress from before, crossed her arms. "Well, what is it then?" She demanded.

"There were six servants in that battle." Rider stated.

The group blinked in surprise.

"...six?" Lily said tentatively. "How many...?"

"Two." Rider answered.

Silence.

Shirou sighed. "Tohsaka-san isn't going to like this."

He just knew there was going to be hell to pay when she finds out that three other masters had summoned more servants than her.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The walk back was tense.

Lily and Alter had just fought a battle that by all logic could not have happened. He had been killed by a Lancer, but apparently Alter had fought one, and Rider had witnessed another one in combat with five other servants.

There was Rider, whom none of his servants trusted. Saber and Nero had witnessed her aid Assassin, who, by some miraculous fluke he had yet to figure out, had had her phantasm fail against him.

There was also Sakura, who spent the entire time at his side, one hand clutching his wrist as the group travelled back to his house.

When they got there however, another problem reared its head.

"You! What took you so long?"

Rin was there.

The pretty, pig-tailed girl stood in front of the gate, hands to her waist and glaring at him at some offense he had yet to figure out. She pointed a finger at him. "Today's the day, you know?"

Shirou blinked. "Uhh, what?"

Then Archer materialized beside her, and he understood. Her servant must have been recovering in her house all this time. It would explain why the sabers had caught no sight of him at all ever since that night. Apparently, since he was recovered, their deathmatches could begin.

Nervously, he rubbed the back of his head, giving out a weak laugh. "Ah...about that..."

Rin frowned, stepping forward. "About what? Are you trying to back...who is that?" She asked in shock, noticing the extra figures in the group.

Sakura was recognizable. Rider however...

Shirou fidgeted. "Err..."

"She better not be what I think she is, Emiya." Rin said dangerously.

The purple-haired servant turned to her. "I am Rider, Sakura's servant."

Rin twitched. Then she palmed her face and sighed deeply. It seemed that Shirou's stupidity had no limit. "Seriously Emiya? I can understand not attacking the master, but the servant too? You know a certain number of servants need to die for the grail to work, and we can't just go around sparing-"

"That will not be a problem." Rider said.

Rin frowned and crossed her arms. "And why not?"

Alter rolled her eyes. "Because apparently, magus, Shirou is not the only master to have summoned multiple servants." Then she smirked haughtily at Rin. "Strange, isn't it? Are you sure you are an excellent magus? Because you seem to be incapable of living up to the standards others have."

Lily jabbed her elbow at Alter. "Now that was just mean." She whispered.

Shirou sighed as Rin's face turned an unhealthy shade of red. Right. Nothing going well at all...

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Rin, paced back and forth across the room. "So you're telling me that you" she pointed at Shirou "summoned four sabers, you" Sakura "contracted Rider and summoned Assassin, who she got into an argument with and is on the loose. The master of Herakles now has a Lancer and an Archer, and some other master has three servants too?"

Nero nodded, smiling. "Pretty much. Truly, this grail shall be glorious beyond any other before! Isn't it wonderful?"

Rin frantically waved her arms. "No it is not! Do you have any idea how dangerous this war just got? That's what? Fifteen servants? This is more than double the usual number! Four servants isn't a sure win now! You can't just go around looking for battles anymore. You might actually lose."

Saber shook her head. "I find that idea ludicrous. I know who my..." She glanced at Lily and Alter "...allies, are, and I have no doubt that we can match any servant we face in a straight battle. While caution is obviously required now, I still have no doubt of our victory. It will merely take longer."

Rin looked ready to pull her hair. "None of this makes any sense! How did they summon more servants, much less support them? Emiya I can understand. He's like a dynamo! The others? How did Einzbern even summon two more after she's already summoned Herakles? Unless..." Then she paled, and started shaking her head. "No. That's crazy. It can't possibly be..." She looked at Shirou's innocently confused face, and growled low in her throat. "...right. This is probably all your fault."

The sword incarnation blinked. "Me?"

Rin went into another one of her 'lecturing' poses. "Four grail wars. Every single one had seven servants, until you joined in. You summoned four sabers. You broke the war. I read up somewhere that the grail may actually be sentient, that its core was made from an Einzbern Homunculus. The only probable explanation is that it found out what you did, and set the bar higher. Now..." She sighed. "We're probably going to start seeing more servants popping out of the woodwork. Twenty eight is the probable number."

She sat down on a chair tiredly. "Still doesn't explain how it supplies that many servants. I mean, it's been costing me much less to maintain Archer now, so the grail's probably picking up more of the slack than usual to enable multiple servants to one master, but where does it get the energy?"

"Umm...has there been a winner in the other four wars?" Sakura asked nervously.

Rin frowned. "No. Why?"

The plum-haired girl suggested meekly, "Maybe...it's been saving up all that energy? If no one uses them up for a wish, and it still gathers energy each interval, doesn't that mean that each grail war's prana just gets stored into the grail?"

Lily put a finger to her lips. "Hmm, that...actually explains a lot of things."

Then Rin brightened. "Wait, that means..." Then she started cackling to herself, and Shirou honestly started worrying for her mental health.

"Uhh, Rin? Are you alright?" He asked, snapping her out of...whateverit was.

She stood up. "Yeah, better than fine. Never mind the duels. It's nothing but a bad idea now. I'm going back to my house to summon more servants!"

"Oh." Shirou stood up. "Do you want me to come with you? It's dangerous out there with all these servants running around."

She blinked, then blushed and waved him off. "I-I know that! I'll be fine though." She stuttered.

He nodded. "Oh. Okay then. Just be careful okay? It'll be really bad if you get hurt."

Her blush deepened to the point of resembling a tomato's, and she scurried out of the house as fast as she could.

Archer, who had spent nearly the entire time silently looking at the four sabers, gave him a strange look before following his master.

Shirou blinked. "What was that about?"

Nero giggled, "You know Praetor, I wonder sometimes if you really are that clueless, or it's all somekind of plan."

Now that just confused him even more.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Rin twitched as she stomped back home. "Stupid Emiya. No tact at all to that guy. You don't just say something like that to a girl!" She shook her head. "Well, at least I can finally bring something to this alliance. Otherwise, he'll be doing all the work, and my pride can't take that." Still, it was decidedly an advantage that Sakura had joined Shirou. Four Sabers, a Rider, an Archer, and whatever servant or two she could manage to summon. That was actually quite probably the most powerful alliance in this war.

Behind her, Archer followed in spirit form, locked in his own thoughts. He had caught but a glimpse of the new sabers' weapons, but that was enough for his structural analysis to record their wielders' history. 'Four sabers. Saber is the same, Lily is Saber who took an alternate path that resulted in a utopia. Nero...is their ancestor. Alter however...'

He frowned. Her sword had been covered by something. Something dark and powerful. Rin had mentioned that Alter had unleashed it on Cerberus of all people, summoned by a Herakles that appeared to have been summoned in Greece, therefore increasing his power even more. 'As if he needs it.' He scoffed. A normal Herakles was bad enough. Now, he was stronger than ever, and worse, sane, because for some reason Ilya had seen the tactical advantage of letting the greatest hero of Greece use his technique and mind for once.

Still, Alter unnerved him. Saber was warrior-queen that he could never forget. Lily was her better side, the one who had cast aside perfection for humanity, and apparently for the better. Nero was...a boisterously extravagant personality that seemed at odds with her image. Then again, perhaps he was biased in that, as he expected someone with Saber's looks to be an austere monarch.

Alter though, thanks to that...thing, he had never seen her blade. He knew nothing about her, only that she was a ruthless pragmatist, and gave off the feeling of bloodlust wherever she went. Saber had always liked a good fight. Alter seemed to prefer a good slaughter. Her very presence unnerved him, and maybe he shouldn't have spent the entire time studying the four, but he was just too curious.

Then of course, the main problem: his past self.

His plan was in tatters. To wipe himself out, would require going back to his actual timeline. This was most certainly not it. If the thousands of nerve-converted circuits Shirou had weren't an indicator, then that strange Word Magic that Rin had mentioned most certainly was.

He had never seen something like that before. It seemed to be weaponized concepts in the shape of bladed implements. But then there was also that person Shirou had mentioned.

A mentor.

Somewhere out there, a magus with access to an entire vocabulary of conceptual magic had seen Shirou, discovered his uniquely-acquired magic circuits, and decided to teach him Word-magic, though apparently limited to sword-related Words. Any magus worth his salt would have kidnapped Shirou and experimented on him in an attempt to acquire such a talent. What had stopped that man?

He sighed. He shouldn't bother. The chances of that man, whoever he was, to visit after all this time was slim. The more important part was the fact that this Shirou was still just like all the others. He still dreamed of being a hero.

In his soul, the numerous swords of his reality marble seemed to shiver in excitement. If nothing else, if the kid wouldn't drop that dream, then he would have no choice but to kill him. Better to spare him of that horror. It was for his own good. Preferably with a sword rain.

...okay, so maybe he was feeling a bit vindictive about that idiot getting more power than he ever dreamed of in his life, but could you blame him?

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Luvia scowled as she reclined in the mansion. Her butt was still sore from Merlin dumping her on her ass with the portal, but at least she hadn't died.

She looked to the windows as she felt her servants approaching.

Dematerialized and recognized by the few bounded fields she had managed to set up, they phased through the walls before solidifying before her.

She frowned at Lancelot's battered armor, then blinked at Siegfried, whose armor was completely gone. Merlin's lack of damage was understandable, as any Caster who had a warrior class get close typically didn't survive. "What happened out there?" She asked.

Rider grinned. "An excellent battle was what happened. Not bad for first contact." He sat down, wincing as certain spots on his body complained at the abuse from earlier. "I actually felt my enemy's hits. Admittedly, he could never pierce my skin, but damn if he didn't hit hard enough to bruise." He shook his head. "And he was their Berserker, who fought sane. Granted, he's a ludicrously powerful hero to be frank. Even without madness enhancement, he had to be at least A+ in strength, considering I had to go berserk to match him in that area. Couldn't figure out who he was, but Lancelot and Merlin learned their opponents'." He gestured to the two.

Lancelot's armor disappeared, and he was dressed once more in that pilot attire, For Another's Honor deactivated to show his true face. "Hector of Troy, and he's every bit the spearman legends made him out to be. He has a similar ability to my Knight of Honor, only more specialized and powerful. What I touch I merely know how to use best. If he grabs anything spear-like, it does turn into a spear, and damn me if his projectiles won't take down a lesser hero in a single hit. That's for scrap though."

He grinned tiredly. "He used his true weapon on me. Called it Roaring Spear, and the prana in it was anti-unit. His skill made it tear the ground asunder like an anti-army projectile though. Would have killed me if I hadn't dodged, and I had him on the ropes if that black giant hadn't interfered."

Merlin nodded. "Odysseus of Ithaca, King of Explorers. Arrows fired from his bow has homing properties I believe, though there are limits. He summoned a special arrow that would have otherwise killed me if it wasn't for my father's luck. I think it's somekind of specialized arrow built for his bow that wasn't mentioned in the legends. He could also use the bag of winds Aeolus gave him, and a cloth that turns him invisible."

He glanced outside, as thunder rumbled out despite the clear night sky. He frowned, before turning back to Luvia. "Lastly, his phantasm, The Odyssey. I believe he can summon any of the now-phantasmal entities he encountered in his journey, and that is quite a lot. I had the advantage due to my sheer variability and chaotic nature, but next time I believe, it won't be so easy. People like him always wise up."

Luvia frowned. "That...is a very powerful team." The frown deepened as she remembered something. "Their master also mentioned another contender with four Sabers."

Lancelot nodded. "Yes, that. Sabers are powerful servants, master. Some say the most powerful. A master with four..." He shook his head. "The power of such a magus would be tremendous, and his servants only moreso."

Merlin rubbed his beard. "Well, it seems this grail war won't be the easy win we thought." His eyes narrowed. "We will need to be careful from now on. This is a most unusual grail war, and who knows how many servants are actually going to be present? No, I believe we should lay low for a while. Preferably for enough time for me to create my temple and forge some items."

Lancelot grinned at this. "I would not call your creations merely 'items', Merlin. Your works have always ended up quite beyond compare for our age, and could stand with the best of them in the Age of the Gods."

The wizard laughed. "Oh yes, time to put that skill to good use. You especially, Knight of the Lake, are going to need some weapons. Can't have you fighting with scrap of all things, even if you can make them workable."

Rider shrugged. "Whatever works for you. I need no items. My sword and my mettle are all I require." He stood up and stretched. "I will rest. See you tomorrow, master." He walked away.

Lancelot raised an eyebrow at Siegfried's retreating back. "Rather confident, isn't he?"

"Comes with being invulnerable. Wouldn't you?" Merlin answered, before humming a tune and walking out to start on converting the grounds into his temple.

Luvia sighed. "Well, this wasn't according to plan."

"In my experience. Plans, never survive contact with the enemy, unless the plan is just 'kill them all in any way possible', master." Lancelot answered lightheartedly.

Luvia giggled, before turning serious. "Still, if just that one team was that tough, what about that other master? Four servants, all at the same time..." She shivered at the implications. "He must be a legend. A magus to shame other magi, the pinnacle of our art, a master. Perhaps one of the tower lords? Or maybe..." She paled at a thought. "...the Queen..." She could do it. The Bartholomei's Blue Blood Magic Circuits could most definitely supply four sabers, and the queen was nothing if not legendary.

She shuddered. "No. That's just too much. The queen's back in England. It's someone else. It's someone else..." She sighed. "Of course, that means we have no idea who he is..."

And so, as Siegfried slept away his bruises, Merlin built his temple, and Lancelot stood guard over their master, Luvia wondered at her prospects in this grail war, and the possibilities of a person who could summon four sabers.

Only the best would have been able to do so. If his personality and skills and lineage were unknown, one thing was for sure: He was most probably a brilliant master magus that would take her very best to defeat. And yet, as an Edelfelt, a family who prided itself in its combat capabilities, Luvia looked forward to such a challenging fight.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Ilya sighed as her servants told her of the battle.

"So, an invulnerable berserk Rider, a Berserker that doesn't lose his skill while Berserkering, and the Wizard of Camelot himself, who is apparently the son of the devil himself." She summed it up.

Berserker nodded. "Forgive us, we should have done better."

She shook her head frantically. "No! You did your best. They just..." she sighed once more. "No one could have expected that." Honestly, her summoning more servants had surprised her! Who could have imagined someone summoning three, too?

Odysseus tested his bow. "Well, next time won't be as easy. That wizard was the most chaotic spellcaster I ever met. The mishmash of magic he knows somehow meshes well together into a style that I cannot help but admit as supremely effective. Nonetheless, I've seen most of his tricks. I'll know what to plan for later." He grinned. "Second time is always easier for me." The he looked at Ilya. "It is late. You should be asleep now."

For a moment, it seemed that she would refuse, then she smiled tiredly and allowed Berserker to take her to bed, being carried in one large arm.

When she was gone, Hector materialized beside him.

The King of Ithaca gave him a look. "She doesn't blame you, you know."

The wounded soldier frowned. "I almost died. It took Herakles' help to keep that knight from killing me. It was pitiful." The grip on his golden spear tightened. "Next time..."

Odysseus sighed. "Very well. If you want to make yourself useful, set up your bounded field. With it, no one can assault us without you knowing about it and a severe disadvantage."

"Only the best for our little lady." Hector agreed. He leaped out to start with the ritual.

Berserker stepped out and nodded to him. "Your turn tonight. Keep her safe."

Odysseus gave the demigod a determined look. "My life for hers, any day."

Their enemies had won one battle. The war however was still in the air, and for the one they had adopted as their child, there would be no line they wouldn't cross for her happiness.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Interesting." Waver muttered as he studied the destruction caused by the battle. The street, to put it bluntly, was a mess. On one part, it seemed as if two titans had gone at each other and trampled the ground into a shattered mess. Many were the gouges that seemed to be from a greatsword or a large jagged implement, as were places where apparently they had taken to throwing cars, park benches, and parts of the very street at each other.

On another side, it was pockmarked with uniformly-sized craters, and quite a few lampposts and streetsigns had been torn off for some reason. And of course, there was that trench of wrecked concrete where it seemed as if a god had gone and slashed at the ground with a sword.

The battle here, despite all the damage, seemed par for the course for a war between heroic spirits.

Beside him, Iskander tsked. "A pity that we had not arrived earlier. Truly, this battle was an intense one, with multiple participants. It would have been a grand entrance to the war for us to have joined in on this battle."

Temujin walked up to them after running off somewhere. "In that lies the problem. There's too many."

Iskander raised an eyebrow. "Say again?"

The Khan nodded. "Too many servants. I followed a trail, there were two more servants fighting. There weren't four servants fighting here. There were six."

Waver put a hand to his chin. "Six...that's..." he shook his head. "That's rather unbelievable. But then again..." He looked at the two servants he had summoned.

Grimly, Iskander nodded. "Then this war isn't like the others. More servants are present. Perhaps more just double, because if what we see here is true, then it was not a free-for-all. It was a battle between alliances, or two masters with three servants." Then he grinned, and the Khan mirrored him.

"Well then, it'll just take longer to win this war, won't it?" Temujin proclaimed.

Iskander laughed. "Yes, that would be the issue. Now then, as I believe none of us have any proper tracking capabilities, back to the house! There is still much I have to catch up to." He walked back to the Gordius Wheel, the vehicle by which they had arrived in the first place.

Waver sighed, and stepped up to it. Temujin himself declined as before, summoning Naiman with a whistle, and his faithful steed manifested in a flash of blinding sunlight.

The legendary horse was the equal of Bucephalus in every way despite its smaller size, and though Iskander arrived first, it took barely half a minute before Temujin caught up to them.

Then of course it was back to gaming. It seemed not even the prospect of a much more lethal grail could daunt the King of Conqueror's desire to experience how much the gaming industry had improved. Temujin too, after a while, decided to try it out, though it seemed he preferred the ones where you built your own army and conquered others'.

For Waver Velvet, he could care less about the war. His king was alive, and he was by his side. Let the world throw its worst at them, he would face it with a smile with his liege.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Well bugger me. It's Lord El-Melloi." Jordan muttered as he watched the Tower Lord step onto the gigantic chariot and fly away. The other servant, an Asian, summoned a horse with a whistle and a flash of light, before mounting it and riding away.

Napoleon frowned beside him. "You know him?"

The Englishman nodded. "He's one of the instructors in the Clock Tower. Probably the best. Every one of his students turned out excellent, and he has A LOT of students." He chuckled. "They say if he gathered all of them and went on a coup, he has a good chance of actually succeeding. God knows every single one of them worships the ground he walks on and probably wouldn't bat an eye if he suggested that."

The Emperor of France narrowed his eyes at the retreating figures. "Sounds like a great man."

"He is a great man. He was a contender for the last war. Expect him to be brutal and efficient. He may not have my battle experience, but considering how the last war was, he's going to fight with no hesitation and probably very little bullshit. No gloating, no shenanigans, just your elimination." Jordan informed him.

Napoleon crossed his arms. "Then why didn't you let me shoot at him then?"

Jordan chuckled. "You saw him arrive on that flying chariot didn't you? That one's a Rider. Kill the master, and escape isn't an option. You just aren't fast enough. As for beating him...do you really want to face two servants with unknown abilities?"

"To charge into battle without proper information is the height of stupidity. I studied tactics, boy. I understand your decision." Napoleon admitted.

Then Jackie manifested.

"So, what did you find out?" The enforcer asked.

"They said six servants fought in all. Four here, two beyond there." She pointed to a field far away to the left.

"Anything else?" The magus asked. "Something that could reveal the servants' identity?"

She shook her head. "Nothing."

Jordan shrugged. "Well, it was a long shot anyway." He cracked his neck. "Well, this just confirms it. This war's special. Way too damn many servants."

"As much as it galls me to admit, eliminating the girl really would have been a tactically unsound move." Napoleon admitted.

Jordan rolled his eyes. "I'll pretend I didn't hear that. Right, back to the house." He started walking away, then noticed that only Jackie was following him. "Hey Archer, you coming?"

The Emperor turned to him, and shook his head. "I wish to explore the city for the night. Do you mind?"

Another shrug. "Go ahead. Just be careful okay? We don't know how many servants are walking around in the city."

Napoleon just laughed. "I am afraid of nothing, boy. But very well, I will retreat if I find two or more servants. One however?" His eyes glinted viciously. "May that hero's gods, whatever they are, have mercy on his soul, because I shall pound his body to dust."

With that, they went on their separate ways, Napoleon with the urge to explore, and Jordan with a Jackie clinging uncomfortably close to his arm.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Samson didn't ask where they were going. He had met enough prophets to know of certain gifts that nearly all of them had. One of them was a divine guidance to the ultimate fulfillment of a goal. They knew not how, or why, only that they had to do this, go there, or make that.

Which was why his question wasn't about where they were going after walking for more than an hour in the middle of the night right after disembarking from their journey, but rather his ally's current state.

"You look tired. Are you sure we need to do this now?" The Wrathbringer of God asked Moses.

The ancient prophet looked worn out, rare for servants. Bags were under his eyes and his wrinkles seemed deeper. Nonetheless, he looked straight forward with defiance to his fatigue. "The goal is to win this war. The fires urge me to go tonight. Tonight and no other night, for this is our best chance of eliminating an enemy."

Samson frowned. "You pushed yourself really hard you know? Not that I'm complaining from the results, but it will be troublesome if you die in the fight because you're so tired from making so much."

The prophet turned to him, and religious fervor shone in his eyes. "Believe what you will, Wrathbringer. I travelled the length of the desert while leading an entire country of people. I know fatigue, and it daunts me not. What I know is that it will be harder for us to attack later with me fully rested, than now with me tired from my creations."

Determinedly, Samson nodded. "Very well. If that is what you believe, then that is the truth. My only question then is if we can go faster."

Then Moses stopped, and pointed to the side, where a house sitting on what could almost be called a field could be seen. "In my sight, it burns with purpose." Even then, the bounded fields created by the magus to drive away the masses would have been enough of an indicator for him. "Prepare yourself, we assault a fortress. Wear the shroud I made for you. You will need it."

Samson grinned, and in an instant, civilian clothes disappeared, to be replaced with primitive iron armor. He took out an expanse of cloth made of brown and red thread, putting it on as one would a cape. Instantly, he felt rejuvenated, as if his body was filled to bursting with life. His bronzed hair seemed to crackle with suppressed energy as a strange weapon materialized in his hand.

It was an axe with a haft of black iron lined with bronze, with an axehead made of a donkey's jawbone dipped in bronze. More importantly however, was its size and proportions. The jawbone was gigantic, the blunt 'axe-blade' it formed more than three feet long. The haft itself was short for such a large weapon, being barely half as long as the axe-blade's length. Even then, Samson gripped it by the middle, and despite his own large size, it looked comically big in his hands.

Moses breathed deeply, and his ensemble changed, becoming a pure white cloak, with a large red scarf around his neck, both articles of clothing radiated power. What their effects though, were unknown even to Samson. The bronze staff in Moses' hand shaped like a snake seemed to give the surroundings a predatory look.

Then he spoke, in the language of ancient Hebrew, a language no one could properly speak now. Even then, the way he spoke it would have been archaic even to the people of his time.

"Oh Yahweh, Strike them down."

A bolt of lightning came from the clear skies, slamming down into the center of the field with enough power to vaporize an oak.

"Go." He ordered, and with that, the prophet and the wrathbringer stepped into the field of the Witch of Dun Scaith.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

[Earlier in the day]

For Bazett, it had been a good day, all things considered.

Admittedly, waking up between the naked bodies of her childhood hero and his female mentor had been supremely embarrassing (for her, at least. The two seemed to have no shame, strutting around without a care as they retrieved their clothes), but after getting dressed, what she had done started to sink in.

She had had sex. With Cu Chulainn. And Scathach. It was like...well, she honestly had no idea how to describe it besides cataclysmically orgasmic (or was it the other way around?) seeing as the two had teamed up on her and pleasured her to unconsciousness before going at each other.

"Hey Bazett."

The Irishwoman nearly leaped into the air in surprise at Lancer. "Uhh, y-yes?" She asked, after recovering her composure.

"You got any woad?" He asked.

She blinked, then shook her head. "N-no. Why do you ask?"

Lancer held up his spear. "Need something to paint this with. Can't carve runes into it, so paint is the only method. We need everything we can get our hands on to beat that kid with the four sabers, and runemarking Gae Bolg is just the start."

"Oh." Right, those four. Get your mind out of the gutter, Bazett! There's still a war going on! "Well, we could always buy some paint."

He nodded. "Sure. Woad would be best, but I'm guessing they don't have that. Blue paint would be the next best thing, and it must be organic for it to stick."

She stood up. "Right. Let's go." Walking out, she found Scathach walking around the field, her hands tracing innumerable figures into the air. "What are you doing?"

The spellsword looked at her. "Making my temple. Best to take advantage of everything, yes?" She squinted at them. "Buying paint? Save some for me, too. You two go on ahead, I want this done by tomorrow."

After an hour or so, they returned with four buckets of the stuff, and Lancer immediately opened one up and started delicately painting runes onto his spear.

Scathach herself continued with her temple. It would take about two days to create it, and if what they had heard was true, if the two of them were to beat the sabers, they would need as many advantages as they could get. Runemarked phantasms and mystic codes were just the beginning.

Honestly, that prodigy was just too troublesome. He wouldn't stay dead and then summoned four servants when about to die once more. Out of nowhere and without a ritual too!

Still, hopefully her superior battle experience would be enough to take him down if the two fought. Fighting someone whom Cu Chulainn considered fitting for the Age of the Gods would be a daunting prospect for anyone.

Then in the middle of the night, a lightning bolt came down on the building, tearing through the walls and nearly striking her, but instead vaporizing the wall beside her.

She blinked.

"Master, enemy servants! Get out of here Bazett!" Lancer screamed, crashing through the door and leaping out of the newly-created hole.

After him came Scathach. The redhead strode purposefully towards the interlopers, features locked into an emotionless mask of concentration. "Do what he said. These two...they are powerful foes. We cannot spare the effort to protect you." She leaped forward, her armor upon her body once more and a runemarked greatsword in her hands.

Bazett didn't argue as explosions started occurring.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

For Napoleon, the city was a wonder. In the modern day, what was once only a king's privilege was an everyday occurrence to the masses. Granted, there were still poor people, but every city had to have those.

Universal satisfaction after all, was just plain impossible.

Then he saw him.

A blonde, red-eyed man in expensive-looking clothes, staring boredly at a clothes shop.

It was the presence that alerted Napoleon to the supernatural nature of the man. People just seemed to unconsciously go out of his way, like the sea parting before a shark, only no one seemed to notice. That, and the aura of power and glory that surrounded him.

Servant.

Napoleon grinned, and followed the man. For a few minutes, it seemed as if he had not been noticed, then the man's eyes shifted to look into his, and a sneer formed on the blonde's lips before he wordlessly started to march somewhere secluded.

The Emperor frowned. That sneer...it irked him. It was as if that man considered him below his attention, like a rat that had been taken notice by repeatedly bumping into his shoe, and that needed to be exterminated out of sight.

"I'm going to enjoy wiping that sneer off his face." He was Napoleon Bonaparte, the Emperor of France, and that man was going to regret dismissing him as a threat.

And so he followed him. In a minute, they were in a secluded yard, junk scattered all around.

The suit disappeared from Napoleon's frame, to be replaced by the imperial military attire. He grinned. "So, are you ready to fight, servant?"

But the sneer remained, even as the modern clothing was swapped for a golden full plate. "Mongrels. Mongrels everywhere. It seems your kind is just popping out of the woodwork. I would have deigned to ignore you, but you had the gall to stalk me. It annoyed me." The eyes narrowed in anger. "And the punishment for annoying the king, is death!"

The air behind him shimmered, and dozens of noble phantasms manifested.

Napoleon blinked. "What the hell? How do you have so many?" It was impossible. Yes, heroes typically had multiple phantasms, but not dozens. What had he gotten himself into?

"Die, mongrel." Gilgamesh, King of Heroes, declared.

And the legendary weapons launched themselves at Napoleon.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Yeah. I totally just sicced a cliffhanger on you.

So, Moses and Samson attacked Scathach and Cu Chulainn because any later and the place would have been impregnable by virtue of being a fully-formed Caster Temple.

Also, Napoleon's gotten himself into a scrap with Gilgamesh. Should have walked with Jordan, dude. I wonder how you're going to get your ass outta this mess...

Oh, and Rin's going to summon her servants! Take a guess who the heck the new ones will be! I've left enough clues that some should know about them.

On a side note, I posted the Nerve Damage Servant sheets. It has all the skills of each servant, and noble phantasms will be posted as they appear in-story.

Review! It feeds me.