Hey there, everyone! Welcome again, I hope you'll have a good time reading this chapter. Without further ado, here are teh songs I picked for today:
* Umineko – Le 4 Octobre
* Rose Guns Days – Duel of Rose
* Rewrite – Toxiplasma
* Higanbana – Banquet of Neverending Night
* Higanbana – The Dead of Night
* Umineko – Le 4 Octobre
In the middle fo the mountain, almost unconcerned by the fighting taking place not far, there was a mansion of sort. It matched, and even exceeded the expectation the word 'manor' could foster: it was moderately luxurious, but also quite huge in its proportions – almost excessively so. It was understandable to an extent, as it was to be used as a fortress for battle, but it made it even more of an eyesore in this place where it didn't belong.
Needless to say, such a building was absolutely out of place here in the Himalayan mountain range, not only because of its size and the ridiculousness of its location, but equally because of its appearance. It looked nothing like a modern mansion, and the walls and floor bore proof of the passing of time. It was Western in style, probably from the second half of the 18th century or so, maybe even a bit later. A construction that would be impossible to be found in China, and for a reason since it was not originally located here.
This mansion was actually Caster of White's 'workshop', although only a small portion – the basement – was being used as such while the rest was more or less useless beyond everyday life. However, it was not a pure invention on Caster's part: unlike his Red and Black counterpart, the man summoned by Evangeline Golodiaïev was a bonafide magus in life. Consequently, he had possessed more than one workshop worthy of being called such, and one he particularly affectioned had served as the basis for their base. There were multiple differences apparently, mainly the size of it.
The original building, known as the Boleskine House, was much smaller and didn't even possess a second floor. As for why Caster had modified it to look like this, it was a different matter entirely. It had been neither Caster's nor Evangeline's decision, but rather a wish expressed by their 'guest', Berserker of White's Master. And it was the latter whom Evangeline was currently looking for, searching through the maze of hallways and rooms in hope of finding the albinos girl.
Honestly, it was a hassle to look for somebody in that place, or even to go anywhere really. At that height, oxygene was rarer so it took more efforts for Evangeline, who wasn't a very physical person to begin with. Though, it wasn't too much of a problem usually, as Anastasia – the girl she was looking for – didn't move around much, if at all. She would stay in her room all day, reading or daydreaming whereas Evangeline would move up and down the manor to help Caster. She wasn't bitter about that; in the first place, she was the one insisting on giving her Servant a hand. Moreover, in regards to physical eforts, Anastasia didn't fare any better than her, and that meant something. Simply moving from one place to another within their mansion would take a toll on her.
Hence Evangeline's surprise when she walked up to the albinos girl's room only to find it empty. It was hard to imagine Anastasia leaving her room, not as much because of her condition than because she would have no reason to. Whenever she needed something she didn't have withn reach, Berserker would fetch it for her in a matter of second.
Describing things this way, it could seem as though Anastasia was a lazy and antisocial person, but that could hardly be further from the truth. She was a sweet girl, as sweet and as naive and clueless as a five-year-old. Which was the reason why she wouldn't do much in the first place: she had nothing to do, and even if she did it was better for someone else to handle it in her place. She wasn't just clumsy, but also disconected from reality at times and a romantic – the reason she asked Caster to change the Boleskine House's appearance was because she wanted it to look like the mansion from a book she had just read. That was it, she simply wanted to see an unrealistic mansion in reality.
No, actually it was more complicated than that. Anastasia didn't ask Caster anything – she couldn't even know what the manor would be like. But when she mentioned her expectations to Evangeline with stars in her eyes, the latter personally asked Caster to do the modifications.
She didn't do that to please Anastasia or anything like that, mind you. In fact, she regretted bothering Caster with a stupid request like that.
The bottom line was, Anastasia was not the kind of person you'd like to be walking around freely, especially in this mess of a building. Seriously, why did Caster have to accept? Did it not cost a large amount of magical energy? Granted, the Servant of Magecraft was draining mana directly from the ley line below them, but still.
Evangeline couldn't rest easy until she had found where Anastasia had disappeared to and why.
She stumbled upon her accidentally after more than half an hour of searching. She could have kept looking much longer: she found her fellow Master of White collapsed in the middle of a random hallway, not a room or a destination in particular. 'Collapse' was actually inaccurate, as Evangeline was quick to find out: Anastasia wasn't unconscious or napping, she was scrawling on the ground.
Very slowly.
She looked bothered by it, but not in a dramatic way. It was more a 'dammot-not-again' mild embarassement.
"What are you doing, Anastasia?" Evangeline had come from the front, yet the girl had not noticed her approaching due to being too busy using her slender arms to pull herself forward. "Why are you here crawling in the hallways?"
"Ah, Evan~!" When she became aware of her presence, a beaming smile appeared on Anastasia's face. "I was looking for something, but I couldn't find no matter what. Then I fell down and I had to keep going like that."
Indeed, her nose was now bright red, proving that she had tripped head first onto the carpet. There was even a trickle of blood coming out of her nostril, but she didn't seem to mind at all.
"I've been like this for sooooo long!"
"Where did you fall?" Evangeline inquired.
"Huuuuumm...at the corner behind I think?"
That was a good twenty meters. For an unknown – but presumably long – amount of time, Anastasia had been dragging herself on the floor and only covered that much distance. Evangeline didn't know what she should be flabbergasted by the most. But more importantly, she had a duty of lecturing the girl.
When she was done holding her head in her hand, she took a reproachful tone and addressed the girl that was still crawling even with Evangeline in her way.
"Anastasia, why did you leave your room? If you wanted something then you should ask Berserker, or at least wait for me to come back. What if you got lost for good and something happened? We're not here to play, we have ennemies at our doorstep!"
"Oh nooo." Anastasia showed a genuinely sad face. "But! I didn't get lost! I know the way around here."
Evangeline wondered how that was even remotely possible. Beside Caster, it was likely that nobody would understand the full layout of this place.
"And I don't want to go back! I'm still searching, so I won't go back until I've found! But then I tripped and the floor caught me. Now it doesn't want to let me go!"
How would that even work. Surely, if you fell the ground was sure to be there for you, but how could it 'catch her'. It was just her way of saying she couldn't get up, though Evangeline suspected her to truly believe the floor was malicious. That was a perfect exemple of how ingenuous she was. And that she wouldn't think of getting up was a perfect exemple of how much of a klutz she was.
"Why don't you simply push yourself up? Even with your strength you should be able to do it. Or do you actually like the floor and dust that much?"
"..." Anastasia didn't reply, but stared at her with wide-open eyes, visibly shocked by Evangeline's words.
For a second, Evangeline became worried that she might have sounded too harsh – Anastasia could be very simple-minded, and by extension very sensitive. It had already happened several times before, she would say something inconsiderate and that would result in her crying and brooding for some times. Evangeline hadn't apologized any of those time, but she told herself she would avoid it in the future.
"Oooooooh~, I didn't think about it!"
"...Huh?"
Before she could think more about it, Evangeline was taken off-guard by the energy in Anastasia's reaction. She had expected some tears, but not the starry-eyed look of admiration she was being given. The albinos girl (she had finally stopped dragging herself) was looking at her as though she was a savior. A stupid thought Evangeline proceeded to berate.
"W-what do you mean, you didn't think about it?!"
"When I fell, I thought 'well, I have to on like this now', and I forgot I could try to stand up~. Thank you Evan, you're so smart~!"
"I-I don't think so...anyway, please stand up now, it's not healthy lying on the floor."
Anstasia did just that; her arms, that looked like fragile porcelaine, managed to lift her up enouh to sit down. The next step was more complicated for her and she wobbled a little, threatening to fall over again. But with Evangeline's help she successfully complted the ordeal that was standing on her two feet!
"I wonder how you even managed to get this far by walking..." Evangeline muttured under her breath. "By the way, why how did you end up on the ground? There's no obstacles here."
"I tripped on my dress!"
"..."
True, Anastasia was wrapped up in a pristine white dress log enough that it reached the ground. It made her look like a kind of princess – which was the point – but it was kind of ridiculous to walk around in. She was not supposed to go on walks in the first place, so Evangeline didn't take that into account when making it. Yes, it was Evangeline that made it for her, but only because the girl did not have much to wear in the first place, mind you.
"Anyway, let's go back. We can't leave your nose like that. I hope there's first aid lying around somewhere..."
"No!" Evangeline, who was supporting Anastasia, began dragging her back to her room, but the albinos girl struggled with a rare strength. "I'm still searching, so I'm not going back!"
Evangeline sighed.
"I told you the situation could be dangerous. If you want something I'll go fetch it myself okay?"
"Really?!" She cried as though it wasn't a normal thing to say. "Thank you, Evan!"
"Yes, yes. What were you looking for anyway. It's not like there are many things in this mansion to begin with, so I'm curious to know what's so important you'd go instead of using Berserker."
"Actually, it's Berserker I can't find anywhere."
"Berserker? Now that's something I can hardly believe."
After all, Berserker was always so insistent about staying around his Master that Anastasia could hardly have a moment to herself. However, it was true that he was nowhere to be seen. It was hard to imagine the knight in white armor to let his Master wander off inside the manor without accompaning her. That would be harder to explain than him disappearing all of sudden.
"I swear that's the truth!" The Master of the Servant in question promised, rather pointlessly. "He was being all restless and stuff, especially when he heard the explosion outside. And then, before I knew it he wasn't around!"
True, you could easily here echoes of the battles taking place, but only when those were being particularly brutal.
"Can't you just call him through your mental link? That would be ten times easier than looking for that guy."
"Buuut! I don't understand how it works! I've never used it before!"
True, Berserker had never walked away from her before, which could explained why she was so worried. Evangeline was somewhat exasperated though. According to Caster, Anstasia's magic circuits were of the highest grade, yet she couldn't seem to get around magecraft-related things. She had a lot of potential, but she was a better reader than she was a good Master. At least that didn't seem to bother her Servants. The latter was so loyal to her it was almost disgusting.
Why would he leave her then?
Well, Evangeline could guess. Whether he could use speech and basic thinking or not, Berserker was a Berserker. He was a knight used to the battlefield, and knowing that his enemies are close-by, the most logical action for him to take would be killing them for his "King". By the way, that was how he reffered to Anastasia, regardless of her gender. That was probably a manifestation of his regrets in life – that even he who advocated peace would itch for battle, that said a lot about him.
The battlefield had to be a mess because of Caster's maneuver, but it would be very dangerous for a lone Servant to face off against so many opponents at the same time. And Berserker was only reasonable when Anastasia was around.
However, it wasn't really a bad news; it was starting to get tiring, having Berserker restlessly walking around waiting for something to happen, so it was unavoidable in the end. And he was going to be alright. Probably. As a knight and a Berserker, and with a quality Master like Anastasia, he would be a shame of a Servant if he got offed easily. Although, truth to be said Evangeline was unsure about Berserker's actual skill in battle.
That was mainly because they didn't manage to summon the good Servant and ended up with him instead. The Catalyst Ivan had provided for Anastasia was an old fragment of ivory, dating back all the way to Charlemagne's court. They had thought it to be a piece of Roland's Olifant, but maybe they had been too optimistic about it. After all, ivory was a common spoil of war amongst Charlemagne's generals. Even so, they could have expected to summon Olivier, Astolfo or Ogier, any of the twelve peers.
But the result was unexpected.
"Whatever. I guess I can look for him." Evengeline told a white lie to cheer Anastasia up. In truth, she'd simply ask Caster to look after the Servant of Madness.
"Really?!" Her eyes lit up even more.
"Of course. I wouldn't have said it otherwise." It hurt a little to say that, but she didn't let it show on her face. But she couldn't help it; there was no way in hell she could go fetch Berserker and bring him back here.
"Thank youuuu, Evan~! Thank you!"
"Hey now, stop jolting around or you'll fall again!"
"Bfoi!"
"See, I told you!"
After she helped Anastasia get up once more, the two of them finally reached the girl's room. Evangeline had her sit on a chair that was laying around, and got her hands on some basic medical equipment and set on to clean Anastasia's bloody nose.
"Does it actually hurt?"
"A little~!"
"Strange. You used to feel nothing when injuring yourself."
"Yup. But now it stings a little. It's very uncomfortable!"
"Of course it is. Why do you think people don't want to hurt themselves? Pain is uncomfortable."
"Buuuut! It's the first time a boo boo hurt like this!"
"Yes, yes. Ah, you got some blood on your dress!" Evangeline grumbled while trying to whip off the red liquid off the snow white fabric.
Truth be told, the color of blood suited Anastasia. Her eyes were already crimson red because of their lack fo pigmentation. The rest was white, her hair more than her skin. The reason Evangeline had made her dress white was to match Anastasia's surreal beauty. If one ignored her red nose, she was really beautiful like a Greek statue. It was like she had been culpted that way – which may not be off the mark. Her whiteness would be even more fitting in this snow-ladden landscape, without a doubt.
However...
"You're gaining more colors, huh?"
She was not quite colorless anymore. When had it started? A few months ago, some strands of hair lost their whiteness to gain a light chestnut color. That wasn't all: her eyes were red because the iris had no opacity and allowed blood veins to show through. Yet, it seemed as though they were turning light blue, and the redness was fading. Her skin was not as white as before.
They had no idea what was causing this.
Anastasia was not a normal human, so maybe unnatural things were bound to happen. That didn't ease Evangeline's worries though. Anastasia was fragile in many ways, a sudden change like this was not a good sign in her book. Caster said there was no reason to be alarmed though, so she let it slide for now...
"And here, we're done."
"Thank you, Evan! You're like a mother~!" Anastasia giggle with a wide smile.
"A-a mother?! You look older than me, so you're the one who should be fitting the bill!" Though she was clearly the adult out of the two.
"Buuuut! I'm only two years old! Evan is much, much, much, much older than me~! You even gav me my name!"
"I'm not that old. At least you could have gone for an older sister, geez."
"Okay, then! You're like a big sis, Evan!"
"Wait, I didn't mean that you could...whatever I guess." Evangeline simply Sighed and shrugged; no point getting upset about every little thing. "Oh, you cut yourself on your arm."
"Ah? Must be when I fell. It doesn't hurt at all~!"
"And when I disinfect it?" Evangeline asked, just as she touched the cut with a cotton soaked in disinfectant.
"It stiiiiiiiinnngsss! It stings, I don't like it!"
"Come one, let 'big sis' tace care of your wounds~." That was tasteful revanche.
"I don't wanna!"
"Good girls should stay put an behave! Come on, there are more cuts!"
"Nhaaaaaaaa!"
Not without a struggle, the operation was eventually completed. Anastasia was sobbing on her bed now though.
"You meanie!"
"Come on, Ana. Don't cry for this much."
"I hate you, meanie!"
Evangeline sighed – that was something she did a lot since she found Anastasia. There was probably no helping it this time. She would wait for her to get over it; with this idea in mind, Evangeline stood up and headed for the door.
"Are you leaving?" Surprisingly, Anastasia adressed her between two sobs. "Say, are you leaving?"
"Yes. Now that I found you, there's nothing reason for me to stay."
"...Can you stay?"
"Huh?"
"Berserker's not here, so can you stay?"
"I thought you would go back to your books."
"sniff...Don't wanna. Can you stay?"
"...I guess there's no helping it, is there?"
But that was only because she insisted, mind you.
Chapter XIX: God of War
* Rose Guns Days – Duel of Rose
But although the battle between Lancer of Black and Archer of Red had been put to a halt, they weren't the only Servants fighting amidst the peaks of everlasting snow. Somewhere else, where familiars had already been exterminated, a blacksmith had made an unfortunate encounter with an opponent way out of his league.
When the White Caster's plan had been put into motion, his Red counter-part hadn't even had the time if searching for his Master. Right where he had been stading, with carbonated remains of familiars scattered around him on the whole plateau, he had felt something coming his way – something that was neither a human nor a familiar. In other words a Servant, which he could assume to be an enemy, was coming for him.
The best option should have been to run. A fighter though he may be, Caster was not reknowned for taking on strong opponents. He could tell without even seeing them that this one was especially bad. But running away was useless: they were much faster than him by a margin. He could turn into spiritual form, but that would not make him invincible nor unreachable.
That left only two solution. Firstly, defeat his opponent; but, ever the pessimistic blacksmith that he was, Caster had no faith in this. He could tell his enemy was strong, like the aura of a wild beast approaching furiously. He was left with only one option then: he had to reach a stalemate, or at least create a window for escaping.
"I guess I can't count on back up or reinforcement, can I? Of course not, it's just this old smith and his runes here after all." He sighed tiredly under the lush beard covering his chest. "I wear to the gods, if I ever survive this I'm going to complain twice as much as before."
Not that he held his life as precious to him – at the end of the day, he had already died once and didn't mind doing it a second time. But he still had yet to complete his sword, and that was one thing he absolutely had to do before kicking the bucket. Anyway, his thought would be better employed at searching for a way to survive.
For records, it is normally not possible to tell a Servant's strength without seeing them in actions, let alone without seeing them at all. But this was different. Though he recognized the prana signature of a Servant, something here was different.
(They're like a living calamity looking for victims; even the land is dreading their presence. I wonder what kind of Heroic Spirit would give off such a foreboding feeling, ever from afar.)
He sighed again, with all the air from his lungs, and cursed his misfortune. He didn't feel all that stressed though – a blacksmith though he may be, he still had pride that wouldn't allow fear.
"Oh well, I guess I still do have the spark of a fighter inside me. It should be a better challenge than those small fries." He steeled his resolve, and waited for his opponent to show up.
He didn't have to wait for long. He heard the sound of powerful steps coming closer, and suddenly a shadow arose on the other end of the highland. From where he was, Caster could see they were completely wrapped into a large raicoat which hid their appearance. He couldn't even tell whether they were a man or a woman. On the other hand, something was clearly visible: they were covered on familiar blood. They had slayed so many with so little care, the grey-ish liquid was now splashed over the raincoat to the point it might as well have been its true color.
Caster readied his sword in front of him – words were unnecessary. Immediatly, he felt a strong gaze weighing on him, although he couldn't discern the Servant's eyes from this distance. It seemed they agreed with him, as they didn't speak a word and simply took out their weapon: two arms came out from under the coat, each wielding a short single-edged sword.
The skin of their hands was black, but it wasn't a natural color at all. It reminded Caster of those people who had used too much magecraft, to the point of altering their own body.
(So a Saber, huh?) Caster analyzed the two weapons instantly with his Master Blacksmith skill. In his life he had never seen this style of sword – they were Dao's, a traditional Chinese weapon. (That means they're probably a hero from this country. Just my luck.)
But there was something starnge about these swords. Namely, they were nameless. With a Luck-check, Caster could try to guess a weapon's True Name, but he didn't even need that here: these were simple weapons, without a name nor a concept behind them. Yet, there was something about them that made Caster uneasy.
But before he could tell what it was, the Servant – Saber of Black took the first step and moved first.
Their silhouette was moving across the snow at a frightening speed, but not so quick that Caster couldn't react beforehand. In fact, the latter attacked before Saber could make contact: wordlessly, he drew runes in front of him and the ancient letters turned intof ire that swallowed the Servant of Black.
But there was a rejection. Caster's spell was countered as soon as it approached its target, and without harming nor slowing down them.
That was a pretty high Magic Resistance; Caster's runes were nothing to scoff at, and yet they had been dispelled so easily. Caster estimated it to be at least A-rank, and that wasn't good. As a Caster, his main mean of attackin was magecraft. Since that was not an option anymore, close-quarter combat was unavoidable.
(Anyway, it would be worse. They should only be able to counter spells directed at them, at any rate.)
Thinking that, he raised his sword to meet his opponent who was already singing theirs while jumping. The the meeting of steel against steel was brutal to say the least – Caster was almost blown off his feet by the sheer strength of it. But he held on thanks to his other trump card, the runes he could use on himself. With them, his speed, strength and even eyesight could keep up with true fighters, just like that Saber.
But the latter had only used one sword to attack, and swung the second almost as soon as the first swing failed. Caster only had one blade, and he wasn't fast enough to block to nigh-simulatneous attacks with it. That was why, he picked the simpler option of blocking it with his free arm.
The blade met his forearm just as ferociously as its twin, and the steel dug into his flesh. But not with ease – for he had hardened it with runes, and the sword couldn't cut through his bone.
The Saber of Black was visibly surprised by this turn of event – maybe they had never fought an opponent using rune magecraft. They opted for safety by breaking away from him immediatly, and they put a short distance between them. Caster was thanksful for it, although he could only used this small break to wait. He wasn't so foolish as to rush at them.
The mantled Servant was now crouching in the snow, observing Caster who reciprocated. Their hands had disappeared within the coat once again; he heard the noise of metal, quickly followed by a familiar sound.
"...A bow?!"
That was the sound of a bowstring being drawn.
Caster owed his survival to his quick reflexes. When he understood what his enemy was doing, he raised his arm at once. At the same moment, Saber revealed their arms again, and sure enough they were holding a magnificent bow, with arrows ready to pierce him. A short salva was fired promptly, and had it been a second earlier Caster would have been dead. But the numerous sharp-headed projectiles were stopped midair by the rune barrier Caster had barely erected.
But he couldn't catch a break – not even waiting to see if their arrows had reached him, Saber was moving again, and this time they skirted him to attack from the side. Caster could barely follow with their speed, and only had the time to raise his sword in an attempt to shield himself. There was still enough distance for him turn aro-
CLANG!
His thought were cut off by an abrupt sound assaulting his ears, and the sharp pain in his cheek. Once again, he had preserved his life by a hair's breadth: he had thought that Saber would close more distance before attacking, but he was proven wrong when a long shape almost slashed his face off.
It was a spear – Saber had suddenly materialized a Qiang spear, and had swung it sideways to slice his head in two. But the sword he had haphazardly moved to protect himself had met with the staff, saving him by a small margin: the tip of the spear had cut into his cheek and fractured his cheekbone.
On the other hand, he had been caught completely by surprise and for a second e had trouble understanding what had happened. With this spear swing, Saber had completely broken his guard, and they didn't let it go to waste. Another long, blurred shape materialized in Saber's other hand – it was Gun staff, which the warrior used to swipe Caster of his feet violently.
His huge body fell heavily on the snow while his sword escaped his hand, leaving him defenseless against a relentless Saber. The latter moved in unisson with Caster's fall, and the Qin spear dematerialized to be replaced by a battle axe, which Saber lifted above their head like a lumberjack.
But, maybe thanks to the contact of freezing cold snow against his burning skin, Caster managed to pull himself back together – he had to push Saber away, at all costs. As soon as they were close, not even his boosted abilities can match theirs. And the worst part was, he had a feeling they were holding back.
Runes danced in front of Caster, who raised yet another shield between him and Saber, and met with Saber's formidable strength. The axe, like a guilloting thirsting for his blood, proved to be much more dangerous than the arrows he had blocked previously. That was probably because it was a weapon designed to penetrate through shields and armors; or maybe it was just Saber's hardheadedness. Cr acks were quick to appear all over the rune shield, and Caster would feel it being pushed back.
"Tch, I have more than one trick up my sleeves!" The blacksmith shouted with ferocious determination. "Uhooooo!"
He added another layer of runes to his shield. However, those were not for protection: offensive magecraft will be countered by Saber's Magic Resistance. However, it seemed shields were not taken into account. In other words, another spell could be used behind one of them!
The handful of runes danced for a second before converging, and from their fusion, a violent gust of wind was born that blew everything away. Caster was lying on the floor, so he managed to stay in place, but Saber was standing right up. They were sent flying backward, but landed on their feet without difficulty.
Finally, Caster could catch his breath as snow was flying around wildly llike a storm. First things first, he grabbed his sword ans stood back up while surveying Saber. The latter hadn't moved, leading to yet another staring contest between them.
This allowed Caster to collect his thoughts, especially concerning the weapons Saber had so skillfully used in succession. Axe, staff, spear, bow, arrows – all of them had given Caster the same impression as Saber's swords: they had no name, nor did they have any concept concealed within them. They gave off a different feeling from weapons whose name was sung in legend and carried a strong Mystery. They were like blank slates that belonged to no legend.
However, that wasn't to say they were bad weapons – their individual ranks varied between C and B, the axe was even A rank. More than that, as a blacksmith Caster was able to gauge the craftmanship behind them, and he was in admiration. They were unlike the swords of legends he created, but they were perfect war tools that could become proper Noble Phantasms in a hero's hands.
Which all led back to Caster's strange feeling about these weapons. He could tell back when he analyzed Saber's twin swords that something was off. After the reflection he just had, it was now clear as day to him. He didn't understand it at first because it was something he had never seen with his own eyes: all these weapons were original prototypes.
Generally speaking, Noble Phantasms in the form of weapons did not come from nowhere. The further on one goes in history, the 'weaker' these weapons are, and vice-versa. That was because all of them held concepts that predated them by a margin, abilities based on an older model. Those models could be reffered to as the 'prototype' or the 'origin' of these newborn Noble Phantasm. And wth each cycle, the concept and power of these weapon became weaker. And if one went back through these copies and prototypes, they would eventually find unadulterated weapons, the original prototypes.
Saber's weapon were similar: they were pure, no watered down like a cipy would. While they held no concept of their own, they could very well birth new trees of Noble Phantasm on their own. For Caster, whose most famous feat is making such Noble Phantasms, this idea was fearsome.
And even more fearsome was the warrior wielding them: regardless of how such weapons ended up into Saber's hands, only a handful of Heroic Spirits could possibly own them; so few that Caster could count them with the fingers of hand. Combined with Saber's frightening fighting prowess and their obstinacy to hide their appearance, it all filtered down to one name.
And Caster was afraid of it.
It wasn't pessimism this time: he was approaching a dead end. He would not get away alive unless he used a trump card of his. Even then, he had to act first and he had to act fast.
"Well then, O ancient one." Were his brief forewords, before he let his prana flow freely through his circuits. This would be costly, but surely Charles preffered a living Servant to a dead one.
Saber's head jerked slightly when they noticed he was preparing a spell, and they begun to move at once. But Caster had a small head start: the first step was to buy time, as much as he could. A few seconds would do, but he needed them. And the best way was the old way: his first spell were regular fire runes.
However, those were not aimed at Saber directly – they were fired at the ground itself. Fire blasts spread out like fiery flowers on Saber's path, but he knew for a fact that wuldn't suffice. The point of this was to obstruate Saber's visual range through natural reactions: Caster's flame were hot enough to meltcommon metal, but hee they were, hundreds of meters high in the mountains, in the middle of winter. The natural result, was steam.
Plenty of steam.
The span of a moment, the distance between the two Servants turned into a sauna, preventing either from seeing their opponent. However, they could still feel each other's presence, which greatly reduced the effectiveness of this makeshift smokescreen.
But all Caster wanted was for Saber to hesitate a moment – a moment he used to reach a more advantageous position.
After all, the most iconic part of Völundr's legend was his escape, which he accomplished by air.
From below Caster's tunic two wide metalic wings shaped to ressemble an eagle's came out, and the next moment the blacksmith was rising up above the cloud of steam. Saber surely noticed this, but no doubt they must have been confused. Regardless, it was time for step two.
Just when Caster was above them, Saber whipped the air around them with their spear, and the already filmsy screen of steam was dissipated entirely. They could reach him easily with arrows, but Caster had already proven this to be ineffectual. But Caster was just there above them, so what else would they do than reach for him directly.
With the promptness and accuracy of a man-sized grasshopper, they leaped toward the winged man like a cannonball. But this jump was ended prematurely: midway to their target, the cloacked figure encounter an invisible obstacle, a wall they crashed into with full momentum. This barely hurt them, but it wasn't without relief that Caster saw them plummet down just as fast as they came. He had taken advantage of the steam cloud to create a strong Bounded Field surrounding Saber like a prison.
This was just another way to buy time, but it was an effective one. But that Saber was the personification of relentless destruction: their first failure didn't disheart them in the least, and each time they tried again with more power. It would be pathetic to watch a beast charge against a wall over and over again, if said beast wasn't successful. Whether it was the sheer strength of each leap, or the fearsome weapons Saber was using to strike the invisible wall – cracks were appearing along the Bounded Field.
But Saber couldn't destroy it fast enough. Caster had doubted from the start his spell would last long, but that was all the time he needed to cast his real attack.
He was ready to unleash his Noble Phantasm.
Saber must have felt it too since they stopped hammering their prison like a maddened monster. Prana was flowing inside Caster's body, but also all around Saber inside the Bounded Field. The primary purpose of this barrier wasn't only to stall Saber – it was to keep them in place so they couldn't avoid the next strike.
"Sorry, old one, but I'll have to eat into your reserves!" Caster muttered as he pumped prana through his contract with Charles Pendleton.
This Noble Phantasm was pure destructive power, an Anti-Fortress Noble Phantasm which he only planned to use as a last resort. Not only because it was cost-heavy, but also because it was essentially a large scale explosion. In this regard, the Bounded Field also served to limit the area of impact.
"Behold, the power of the greatest Æsir! The weapons and wisdom of Odin, and their true might!"
All around Saber, who merely watched events unfold, all eighteen Primeval Runes appeared in a circle. At first, they were as unmoving as their target, but they started rotating, faster and faster like an endlessly spinning wheel.
It was a Noble Phantasm that invoked all eighteen runes combined, a secret attack of sort subliminated into a powerful magic explosion. It had been created by a Divine Spirit, the Æsir Odin, but it could be used by anyone with the proper knowledge. Consequently, it had limitations, and Caster doubted he could make it as powerful as its original owner.
Still, it was essentially a magical nuke.
"Return to dust and go down the path to Hel! Ochd Deug Odin: Great God Carved Seal!"
* Stop music
The True Name was released, and with it a mighty flash of light.
Saber materialized a wall of high-quality shields around them. But as good as they were, no mere shield could withhold such an attack that could destroy a castle. The barricaded figure was swallowed by the light, whcih shone with such intesity Caster had to raise his arm to protect his eyes. The blast of magical energy was tremendous, incomparable to anything Caster could have accomplished with individual spells. The earth shook, and even the atmosphere seemed disturbed.
The Bounded Field had been greatly fragilized by Saber, and to begin with it couldn't contain the explosion; it shattered like shards of glass and Caster had to rise higher so that he wouldn't be caught in his own Noble Phantasm. The yielding of the barrier was accompanied with a strong gale that blew away snow, rocks, bones and ashes all the same, before fading away.
Eventually, the light vanished, the tremors ceased and all that was left below Caster's feet was large fuming crater. All the snow had long since melted and evaporated, so now the ground was bare stone and dirt. However, he could see none of it since volutes of smoke were rising from this devastated soil – that included the area where Saber and the Bounded Field had once stood.
Saber should be dead – it would be obvious that a single Servant could simply not withstand an attack of this magnitude. However, Caster was not planning on lingering around and finding out. Regardless of the result, they should not be able to pursue him anymore, and with that certainty in mind he set out to fly far away from this place. Charles was not dead yet, since Caster wasn't either, so the first thing on his list was to find him.
Or so he thought.
* Rewrite – Toxoplasma
It happened much too fast for Caster to react. Of course, he had felt something was off beforehand: the residual prana from his Noble Phantasm – no, even the od contained within the mountain had drastically disappeared. But it wasn't like it vanished all of sudden; though it was alarmingly fast, it was abruptly depleted in the same way he would chug down alcohol. And it had gone somewhere: something had sucked it all in like a monstrous vacuum cleaner. No, much worse: somebody had absorbed it all, and a dreading aura had poisoned the atmosphere like rotten air. When he felt that, Caster felt the blood drain from his face, and a terrible chill ran down his back.
But he couldn't react in time, for a second later he was brought down: before he could fly far away enough, a shadow lept from the black cloud of smoke and losed the distance between them like it was nothing. Caster turned around just in time to see the blade of a massive sword being swung down on him.
It didn't cut him clean in half, because he wasn't inert – or rather, because he was not the direct target od this sword, which was about as long as he was tall. His right ear was the first to be severed, followed closely by his right arm, and with them his wing. The real intent of his aggressor was to take him back to the ground, and they had done it splendily: with one of his wings of steel gone, Caster could not keep his body up in the sky much longer. He didn't srop like a stone thanks to the remaining wing but that was it. Like a plane doing an emergency landing, his reunion with the ground was not gentle.
But he had seen worse. He managed to land on his feet somehow, and his mechanical legs cushioned the fall for him. Meanwhile, Saber of Black had landed all the same a good thirty meters from him, but something was completely different from before. Namely, the raincoat that used to hide their – or rather her appearance, was now gone, reduced to cinders in the explosion. Caster could finally see what his opponent looked like...
And there stood a monster.
There stood a woman who onlt vaguely looked like a human should. She had the basic elements – arms, legs, a head, eyes and an humanoid shape. But each part of what made a human being seemed to betray that definition, as though she had taken teh appearance of a woman only to show she isn't one. As he had noted earlier, her skin was deep brown. Yet, it wasn't due to magecraft overuse as he had previously thought, lest her hair would have turned white as well. On the contrary, her hair was a bright teal green color, unkept and flowing freely down her shoulder and her waist. The feeling it gave was like a lion's mane, a touch of grace in wilderness. It offered a strong contrast with her skin, the latter being deep brown as though she had ink in place of blood.
But aside from her uncanny coloring, what struck the eyes and the heart first was her limbs: to be blunt, she had much more than a man should. Indeed, though she only had one head and two legs, she possessed no less than six arms, three on each side of her torso. Baring the first pair, which would look normal under other circumstances, the rest seemed to be erupting out of her shoulder blades. These were covered in black hairs like a monkey's, and the fingers seemed either covered or made of bronze. Each of them were holding a sword in them. They felt like the wings of an angel of death.
Her body was muscular, like you would expect from a warrior – and that word fitted her more than anyone, for each part of her body spoke of her experience of war: scars of various length and magnitude were spread across her lean musculature, but none on her face – nobody had managed to reach it even once.
She went barefoot. In fact, her clothing was extremely basic. It was the same color as her skin, because it was made of animal skin and fur. She had covered her chest as well as her lower body from her waist down to her ankles. That was about it, it was just the bare minimum to show the difference between an intelligent monster and a wild beast.
Finally, there was her head – two horns were growing out from below her hair, which explained the strange form under her coat. They were unlike any known animal's. The closest Caster could find were a dear's antler, except Saber's horns were made of bronze as well.
Teal bangs were falling down her forehead, but they couldn't hide what was just below: just as she had six arms, Saber sported two pairs of eyes whith the second being on her forehead. Once again, these eyes were only human in shape. The iris – or what should have been the iris – were white like a pearl, and there was no pupil in the middle. They were like a deep sea fish's eye, yet they could clearly see everything in front of them, and they had a ferocious glow despite their immaculateness. The sclera, which should have been white, was the opposite: it was black, darker than her skin.
That was Saber of Black.
And Caster could only behold her, stunned even though her appearance matched his expectations. That was because, the most sinister about her was not her appearance – inhumane as she was, she was far removed from the collective image of an ugly monster. There even was a form of beauty to her, probably the same beauty a perfect weapon of death would have.
No, the worst was her aura: Caster had felt it before, but it had become worst now that she was not hidden behind a raincoat. Merely upon looking at her, beads of sweat perled on his forehead, and his heartbeat went crazy. She was a symbol of fear, and fear she seemed to breath. Even the ground she was standing on was afraid of her, if thatw as possible.
And would it not? After all, she was a monster of this land, and even thousands of years later the land remembered its wound; how the warmonging god who was born there had laid waste to it.
"My..." Caster's throat was completely dry. It was usual for him to be bitter, fool-mouthed and pessimistic. But rarely had he been genuinely scared like he was. When he voice came out, it was raucous. "I wasn't expecting you of all people to be eligible as a Servant, O ancient one. You're honoring this humble blacksmith with your presence."
He spoke with a slightly amused, if broken, tone. That was his way of keeping calm despite having his back to the wall. He had a hunch before, but now he was absolutely certain about Saber's true identity. This appearance was unique among legends, and combined with her abilities there was no doubt anymore.
"The Mother of all Blacksmiths, the god of war Chi You." He dropped the name supplied by the Grail.
He had of course never heard of the devil Chi You even once in his lifetime. This knowledge was supplied to him by the Grail. Nonetheless, the fear he felt was genuine – it was probably one of her ability to inflict fear on those who saw her. After all, the great and terrible Chi You ha been a symbol of fear, in life and almost as much in death. It was an instinctive fear, one of being faced with an embodiment of violence, destruction and war. That was why, even though Caster had no personal fear of her, he couldn't get his heart to beat at a slower pace.
In response to having her name spoken, Saber opened her mouth for the first time since they had met. When her lips parted, he saw her teeth were sharp like a predator's. Even though Caster was at least a head taller than her, her eyes were looking down on him with such an innate sense of superiority that he felt she was much taller than he was.
"That's right, magus. My name is Chi You, she who led the Nine Li, she who conquered the East, she who brought her opponents to their knees and put their heads on stakes! There is no one stronger than me under the Heavens! That is why, today I am also she whom you couldn't defeat, magus!"
Her voice rang sound and clear, softer than he would have expected but firmer than her stare, as she made claims that were anything but humble. Yet, Caster could hardly call her out on it; he was indeed the one in a difficult position, wounded and outsmarted, whereas his enemy was standing proudly.
"Meh, I can hardly believe I was able to stand my ground against you for so long." Running his mouth was pretty effective to keep his calm; it at least gave him something to do. Passiveness would seal his death. "Are you the kind of cat to toy around with your prey? Or was the great warrior testing the water to see if it wasn't too cold?"
It was hard to make fun of someone when you were the one bleeding and trembling. And as expected Saber didn't react with anger, only contempt.
"Neither. A dragon needs not turn the world over to hunt a rabbit. And so, neither do I need to fight seriously against a child shaking in his boots. Your magecraft may be strong, but that's about it. Such tricks are useless against me, only steel can hope to reach me. Sadly, you fail in this regard. The blacksmith should have stayed in his forge instead of playing in the snow."
"Don't worry, O ancient one, the blacksmith would ask nothing better than that. But you're not one to let me walk away, are you? After all, the 'strongest under the Heavens' must have a wish, and will bow down to the Grail to see it granted. So at least grant a wish of mine and answer my question: why are you still alive? Mighty warrior or not, you're a Servant like the rest of us. Surely you're not that tough, even in your motherland."
If Caster needed an actual reason for being afraid of Saber, it would be that she survived Ochd Deug Odin at point blank range, and was mostly unscathed. Not entirely, thank God – that would have hurt his pride. Her skin was severely burned on some area. It was far from the result he had hoped, but it showed that she hadn't negated it.
"..."
Saber didn't reply. She did better yet: she showed him. She bent her back as have her face turned to the sky, and took a long deep breath. That was it; she was simply sucking air in, much more than her lungs should be able to hold – that was because she wasn't only absorbing oxygene. Caster felt it clearly; it was the same phenomenon he had noticed earlier, where the amount of natural mana from the surroundings was diminishing gradually. This time, and even before, it had all been drained by Saber of Black. And as she gathered more od, something seemed to crawl beneath her skin: her body was mdifying itself, accelerating her regeneration. Soon enough, the last burns disappeared as though they had never existed.
"I see. 'Chi You can feed from stones', or so the legend says. In other words, you can drain the natural energy from the land around you and not only from living beings. That's one fearsome ability indeed, and your body is one of a monster without a doubt." Thsi level of regeneration was uncanny, even for Monstrous Beast. It was at least at the level of a Phantasmal Beast at least; her body was made for battle, it automatically healed as long as it had energy at its disposal.
"Don't look at me so accusingly." Her batteries resplenished, Saber resumed staring Caster down. "I am only what people made me out to be. I am the incarnation of their fear and of their envy, the demon Chi You. Your Noble Phantasm had me sacrifice a great many good shields, I'll give you that. But in the end it was just brute force, and force can be countered or withstood quite easily. You wanted to know how I did it? Perharps you were expecting a trick of some sort. That would sound rational to you, wouldn't it? Alas, know that there was no such things. I just let my shields take the full brunt of the deflagration..."
"...And you continually healed yourself by sucking the mountain dry, I get it." Caster completed. "But even knowing that, I can't believe you are still in one piece. I was expecting to see your body scattered across the Himalaya."
Even with an explanation, it was plain preposterous. Ochd Deug Odin could even kill a dragon, but here was a creature more fearsome than the king of monsters.
Saber looked around her, not the moutain range, but the horizon beyond it. If they were not in the middle fo a deadly battle, the view would be breath-taking for sure. However, for Saber it must have had a completely different meaning.
"...This is the country where I was born. Where I got stronger. Where I rampaged with my armies, the country that made me into a monster and into a god. As long as I stay on this soil, my fame – or reather, my infamy makes me stronger. I thought that was common knowledge for Servants? You can try your Noble Phantasm on me a few more times if you want; see the result for yourself."
She didn't seem to be joking; such confidence was frightening, all the more because there he had seen with his own eyes what she was capable of. Yet, he was grinning. His life was hanging by a thread, but for a moment he forgot even that. He had never been much of a warrior in life, but even he must have possessed a spark of recklessness. His sword was God knew where along with his missing right arm – so instead, he materialized a large round shield he had also prepared in advance.
"Then what about curses? Do monsters take them well, O ancient one? You must have realized, don't you? My Noble Phantasm isn't a mere explosion; it is a spell created by the great god Odin, a curse for those who survive it!"
As he had said, Ochd Deug Odin also contained a curse meant for whomever survived it. It wasn't as impressive as a curse of death, but Servants within its range (aside from Caster) would be temporarily weakened. This included stats, skills and even Noble Phantasms. Even if only for a moment, Saber was brought down to a regular Servant's level of power.
"Monster, god or whatever, you are a Servant just like the rest of us. You are tied down by the same rules, the same weakness. For one, your abilities may be powerful, but they aren't free. There's a cost, one of magical energy, and there's only so much you can pump out of the surroundings. In fact, I think the reason you're not going all out is because you can't afford to. Just fighting normally is costly enough for you; I guess your Master can't fully supply you, can they? You'll reach your limit eventually."
And Caster was hoping to push that limit. Saber was absurdly strong due to being so close of her legend's origin, but she was still a watered down version of herself.
"Now, do you want to see if I can stall until you give in?" Caster was holding his shield has efficiently as he could with one arm. It was the last rempart protecting his life. "O great god of war?"
"...Your head is smart, but your mouth is foolish." The swords in Saber's hands disappeared; on the other hand, she summoned a massive sledge hammer that seemed made to break stone. "A single hit is enough."
Saber did not lose any more time in words, and spent it on action instead. The distance between them meant nothing; one instant later, the hammer was brought down on Caster. It was a simple vertical swing, wihout any tricks or strategy. It would be brute strength against brute strength – in other words, a battle of submission against defiance. Caster didn't fail to intercept the heavy mass of metal coming down on his head; and as expected the impact was unprecedented.
Until now, barring the time where she tried to finish him with an axe, Saber had used agility and dexterity instead of raw strength, but Caster had a feeling that was where her true might lied. The demon Chi You who threatened to conquer the world, and who brought the concept of war and chaos by destroying the natural balance.
He had put his last prana reserves into reinforcing himself as much as he could. His shield was made harder, his muscles stronger, yet still the shock of weapon and shield had brought him down on one knee. He gritted his teeth hard enough that his jaw hurt, and was using every fiber of his body to resist the pression.
But he held on.
Most of Saber's strength had gone into the initial impact, and Caster had managed to endure it. Once it was over, the balance between them was restored; between his won strengthening with runes, and the curse on Saber's body, they were equals. Slowly but surely, Caster managed to stand on two feet again.
"It will take...more than this...to finish me...!"
But that was not meant to be; his ears were ringing from the clash of metal against metal, but Caster heard it – "Fool", Saber had said once again with an antipathic tone befitting her just right.
She was probably right, considering he had forgotten a very basic possibility: Chi You was the maker of the first weapons, it was more than probable she had an ability to make Noble Phantasm, which would explain why she possessed so many originals. And what is somebody with an unlimited amount of Noble Phantasm prone to do?
(...Shit! Broken Phantasm...!)
Indeed, that had been Saber's plan all along when she had said one attack would suffice: since she couldn't break him with strength alone, she would double that power. Caster felt the magical energy – wich the hammer was made of – go wild, and its form grew unstable has cracks appeared all over its head and handle. The result was, of course, an explosion.
It wasn't an extremely powerful one, but it had caught Caster off guard when he was already in a severe pinch; this time, he truly fell to his knees. The shield, although it had held on until there, was broken apart by the unforeseen blast; at the very least, it upheld its duty to the end by protecting its maker from the Broken Phantasm.
But that was the end of the race.
Caster was without protection, without weapon, was severely injured and was missing an arm. He didn't even have his dignity as he was kneeling in front of the person who defeated him. He had used all his ressources for this final stand but–
"It's over, weakling." Saber declared indifferently. Surely, for her it was just another scene of an opponent conquered, only waiting to be killed by her hand. "You were onto something about me being limited. And I guess that curse could have made a difference in another situation...but not for you. You may have weakened me, but even in this state you are but cheating your way to my level. At least you can die in peace for struggling until death."
"Pff." Caster chuckled cheerlessly; meanwhile Saber was walking up to him. "Don't make me laugh! I would care about a honorable if I was a warrior, but this blacksmith here has only regrets for not finishing his last work! Heheh, I guess you're still not in the mood for letting me go, are you? Well then, let's finish this..."
Now that he was on his knees, Saber was the one towering above him. She was standing right in front of him, blade in hand; it was pretty much an execution by now.
"I see you have as much pride as you are good at fighting. Begging the opponent to spare you how unsightly...!" Saber's look became more disdainful, if that was possible. "Then die. I have much more interesting opponents to battle, worm."
She had nothing more to say – he was already a corpse in her eyes. She raised the word meant to take his neck, and was ready to swing it...but didn't. Something happened, which she hadn't expected. Neither did Caster as a matter of fact; not even those watching this battle from a comfortable place would not have seen it coming. It wasn't a trap laid out by Caster, nor was it Saber's whims. It wasn't a sneak attack, nor was it an order to retreat.
It was a shout.
"Stay your hand, vile beast!"
A voice belonging to neither of them suddenly roared before Saber could carry out Caster's execution. She had frozen the moment she heard it; not because she had been surprised, but because that would have left an opening: their new guest was not one of her acquaintances. Caster didn't know him either, and he was flabbergasted to see his life being saved, a hair's breadth away from death, by a complete stranger.
A little further away from where the Servants were standing (or kneeling, to your convenience), there was proudly standing a knight in white armor with a thick fur cape covering his shoulder and falling on the ground. He held for all weapon a sword with a golden handle and a blade black like ink.
"It is a shame for the strong to lay hand on the weak! I shall be your adversary, vil manant!"
* Higanbana – Banquet of Neverending Night
Hurried footsetps navigated through the large Boleskine House, all the way down to the basement. It was, as a matter of course, Evangeline Golodiaïev as Anastasia didn't have the physical strength for such a feat. The former had received a sudden communication from Caster, asking her to come to his workshop as soon as possible. In the meantime, she had already comforted Anastasia, so the latter didn't protest against her leaving.
By the time she reached the entrance to the basement, Evangeline was covered in sweat and had trouble breathing from hurriying so much – all the more since she was wearing a thick fur coat, which she considered removing for a moment.
But even knowing that wouldn't be good on her, she wouldn't have come any slower than this; after all, Caster of all people had requested her presence, and so she shall be present. That was how much she looked up at him, almost to an unhealthy degree. There was hardly anybody else in the world who received such a treatment from her. In fact, she couldn't claim to know that many people beside Caster, Anastasia and Ivan Pedilefey.
Even so, she couldn't shake off that uneasiness each time she entered the workshop Caster had established in the basement (by the way, the basement was also a new addition to the Boleskine House). It was a strange feeling, like a chill down her spine, except it didn't stop there. She also felt as though she had lost a bit of weight, and the air was much less rare than it should have been. In fact, Evangeline who was out of breath not even a second ago now felt perfectly fine.
But as she walked down the barely-lit stone stairway, she sometimes felt a bit confused and nauseous, because it seemed to her that distances were longer than she thought, and the time she spent walking down there was never quite the same each time. This would last until she reached the actual workshop. Today though, the travel was quite short and before she knew it she had reached the surreal room covered in magic circles and formula.
Usually, Caster would be standing in the middle of the room, preparing yet another scheme with the pages of his book turning endlessly. Evangeline wasn't a magus herself, so she wasn't sure what thaumaturgy was supposed to look like. However, even she could tell the spell used inside this workshop of his were on a different level from what he did outside. They were not world-shattering or never seen before, but she just had that feeling. Maybe it was subjective on her part, but even Caster insisted that there were things he could do inside his 'temple'.
Again, she wasn't familiar with magi's terminology; it seemed a temple was a stronger version of a regular workshop, but she didn't fully understand what made it so. However, she would gladly believe this place was abnormal. It felt unnatural...or otherworldly?
"Ah, Master!" But unlike usual, Caster was crouching on the ground, busy with doodling symbols on the ground. "I was not expecting you so fast! There was no need to be in a hurry, you know? I don't want you to collapse from exhaustion; I would be a horrible Servant for overworking you."
"S-sorry, I d-didn't mean to...I mean...I don't want you to feel..." Caster had such a way with words that sometimes she didn't know whether he was being nice to her or blaming her. "Did you not ask me to come as fast as possible?"
"I said as soon as possible, fufu." He chuckled, with this enigmatic smile of his. "You could have spent more time with your friend if you wanted to."
"S-she's not my friend..."
She wasn't. Anastasia was simply a fellow Master, somebody who was all too eager to join in the Grail War without understanding what was at stakes. It was true that Evangeline had done a lot for her, but it didn't take a friend to help a girl locked in a basement. Actually, she was more of a pawn; she was so attached to Evangeline, she would to anything she say.
Yeah, that's how it was. Evangeline had no friends.
"Fufu, well then. With two of us we will get this done faster, I guess." Caster flung something small for her to catch. Evangeline caught it easily, and found out that it was a chalk of some sort; Caster had another one in hand, and was using it to draw. "I understand that you are quite skillful with your hands, Master?"
"Hum, I guess." It was true her fingers could do fast and precise movements with ease. "I've only used it for needlework though...what are you expecting of me, Master Therion?"
"Something simple, really. As you can see I've already started drawing the circle. I only need you to listen and draw the symbols as you are told."
It wasn't so simple actually; the maic circle Caster was making was very intricate, and much wider than the others. It ought to be somewhat laborious for someone untrained like her. Even knowing that, Evangeline complied readily and followed Caster's instructions as well as she could. She was pretty confident in her drawing; she could draw a straight line without trembling. Moreover Caster was looking after her wor, so any little mistake was corrected in the blink of an eye.
Nonetheless, she couldn't help wondering what this circle was for. It was completely different from the rest. With its width and complexity alone, she could tell it was much more important than the rest. It also used a different suite of symbols, the likes of she had never seen him use. When the circle was completed at last, the question still burned her lips, before finaly escaping.
"What is this used for? Are you going to make more familiars?"
"Hmmm, yes and no. I don't plan on making any more familiars for now. In fact, the ony reason why I made this little army of ours is to test the limit of this workshop, and to toy around with out guests. Speaking of which, it seems this plan has completely fallen apart by now. Most familiars and golems have been wiped out, and from what I can tell Red and Black have almost stopped fighting. More likely, they have started to understand what is going on."
Caster had said this very matter-of-factly, as if he was talking about the weather, and even seemed to laugh at it. Evangeline on the other hand...
"What...? What did you say?! It's can't be... Weren't we relying on this plan to escape?!" She took the matter very at heart. The truth was they were in a difficult situation: they had the Grail Shard, but in exchange they had been cornered and now had the two other Factions after them. "What can we do? Only Berserker can hope to match them, a single Faction is already enough trouble for us. If they team up it we can't defend against them!"
"Fufufu."
"Master Therion, this is no laughing matter!" She snapped at him. Evangeline, who barely dared to look at him in the eyes, actually got angry and lectured him. That only seemed to amuse Caster more though. "Berserker went out of his own accord! He's alone against four Servants, he's going to be killed! Even if we try to run away now, we need his help to carry Anastasia!"
She said all of this in one breath, as if vent her frustration for the first time in a while. By teh end of it she gasped for air a little. Her cheek were flushing red – she had realized what she was doing partway through. Even so, she was staring at Caster with a strong resolution.
"Fufufu, do not fret Master. Miss Anastasia's life will not be in danger." Not matter how much she liked to deny it, Anastasia meant a lot to the girl. Whenever and however that homonculus was involved, the shy girl would suddenly grow a backbone like a mother bear. She cared about her more than about herself.
"I-it's not just her! What can we do on our own!"
"Ouch, you're hitting a sensible cord here, Master." He was still laughing though. "But please have more trust in your Servant. Overrunning our enemies with familiars, and pitting Black and Red against each other – those were not real plan, just experiments."
"E-experiments...?!"
"Yes. Truthfully, we had a head start from the beginning, and we even found the Grail Shard before the Red Faction arrived. But as you said, I'm quite weak as a Servant, even if I have a couple tricks up my sleeves. I wanted to see how I could fare against fellow Servants, hence why I made an army. Well, I was also testing the limits of this temple I've made. Despite making an outrageous amount of monsters, I only spent a small amount of prana! Sadly, maintaining them outside my territory is very costly, so it is only half a success truly."
"So us still being here was only to play around with your Noble Phantasm?"
"Your words are harmful, but I can't really deny it either. However, that's all the more reason why you shouldn't worry: I knew perfectly well from the beginning that my plan would most likely fail. And so, I wasn't relying on it too much. But this." He waved his hand toward the freshly drawn circle. "This is the final step, and the key to getting out of here."
Evangeline still had no idea what it was supposed to be, and thus could only give Caster a confused look.
"Ah, my bad. I was supposed to give you an explaination, but I got sidetracked it seems." He cleared his throat and stepped into the circle. "This is actually something you've already seen, when you summoned me."
"...A summoning circle! Then, you are trying to summon a Servant?!"
"Ah, not really. In fact, not at all. I'm afraid I lack the knowledge to summon a Heroic Spirit without the help of a grail. However, I can summon a creature that is just as powerful as a Servant, if more uncontrolable. And more unconventional."
Evangeline was still without a clue, and cocked her head. Something as powerful as a Servant? It was hard to imagine – Servants were the pinnacle of power, for several reasons. If it is something that mighty then there weren't many options. Caster eventually answered that question, with a mere two words:
"A demon."
"A...demon..." Those words slowly sunk into her head, as it was something she had never considered before. "It's possible?!"
"Of course, absolutely! I am famous for writing three books: the first is the Libel Al vel Legis." He gestured toward the book, which was still floating unnaturally in this alien territory. "And another is the Clavicula Salomonis Regis. In other words, I am familiar with the summoning of angels and demons."
"But, isn't it...dangerous to make a pact with a demon?" She asked timidly. That was part of the reason why she hadn't considered it: the idea of summoning an entity bearing the name of 'demon' was out of question to her.
"It is, greatly so! No magus with their head would try to summon one to do their biding. Truth be told, I could summon an angel instead, but I'm afraid my...constitution will get in the way."
"Your constitution?" Evangeline did not understand at first – was there something wrong with Caster's body? But she remembered, something she had asked about him some times ago. "You mean the Innocent Monster skill, don't you?"
"Indeed. We Servant are also shaped by humanity's vision of us. And you are not without knwoing about mine! Fuhahaha!"
He was laughing heartily, but he was right. Caster had been called 'The Wickedest Man in the World' both before and after his death, and people's impression of him were...less than flattering. As a result, he received the Innocent Monster skill, though his rank was small. It had only slightly modified his Saint Graph, making his tip toward 'evil' more than 'holiness'. It had no repercussion on his personality, but he now had a predisposition toward black magic and witchcraft.
"I have lost all compatibility with Enochian magic. Even should I try to call for an angel, I can't make any promise. Onther other hand, because I am 'wicked' I am especially compatible with demonology. Without a doubt I can summon a powerful being." There it was, his mysterious smile; a smile that calmly invited to take dangerous steps. "As you pointed out, I'm quite weak. I can twist my way around it, but we've seen the limit of it by now. And of course, I was planning on using that power to let us escape; understand that without it, we will definitely be lost."
He had her cornered. Evangeline was full of apprehension, but Caster had laid out argument after argument, ending with the most important, and now there was nothing she could say against it. Her courage and resolve from before had vanished, and she had returned to her shy self already. Not a minute before she could match her eyes against Caster's, but now he was glancing at her feet.
Caster took it as approval.
"Do not look so downcast, Master. As I said, trust your Servant a little more. Your safety and mine are directly related, I wouldn't take any angerous mesure without a good reason."
"I'm sorry...I-it's just...it's not safe to do that..."
"Worry not! Your Servant always has a hidden card. As long as I am here, in this holy temple, I am the master of my own Fate."
* Higanbana – The Dead of Night
The preperations were ready; Caster didn't need any tool, no sacrifice or even assistants. He had simply called her here to watch. He had all the necessary knowledge engraved on his mind, and the circle was perfect and made using ether chalks. Even with all the odds on his side, it was still a gamble, but one he was delighted to take.
Though he stressed the importance of this ritual, it was yet another experiment in the end.
"█▄▄▀▌▐▄█▌█▬■▌▄▀▌▐▄██▐▌▀▄▀▀▄█▌█▄▀▬▄●▼█▌▀"
Standing in the middle of the wide magic circle, Caster had closed his eyes and focused his mind to recite the incantation. Sound was leaving his mouth, for sure, but she could not decern any words. It was like a faint echo, coming from everywhere around her; a language humans were not supposed to use to begin with.
Caster was speaking in Enochian, the language of angels. Though he did say he could not summon one, he needed it anyway to summon a demon.
"█▄▼▀●▐■▬▌█▀▄▌▄█▐◄►▀█●●▪▲▌▄▀█▌█▄▀▀▀▄█▄▀▀▀▀▄█◄●►▌▄▄▐▌▄█▌▐▀▄█◄▪■▬▐▄█▀◄▌▐█▄▄██▌▐▄█▬▄█▌■▪■▼▄█●▐▌▄▌▄▄▐█▌▄▀█▐▌▄■▬■▪►▀█▐◄▼▄██▀▐▌█■▀▄▀▄█▌▐■█▌▐▼◄▬▲▐▌▀▄■■▪●▐█▌▀◄▄▀▄█▌▄"
Something was coming.
There were barely noticeable changes: the air getting heavier; the light growing dimmer; the feeling that something was breathing down her neck. The heat was rising, and atthe same time a knot was forming inside her stomach as these impression grew stronger.
"█▄▄▀▌▐▄█▌█▬■▌▄▀▌▐▄██▐▌▀▄▀▀▄█▌█▄▀▬▄●▼█▌▀"
Before long, those were not meager anymore.
Evangeline's head was aching, and she felt as though the air – already rarer at this altitude – was taken away from her lungs.
There was wind – a soft warm breeze. It wasn't comfortable at all however, it was like a giant mouth was breathing.
Eyes slowly opened in the middle fo nowhere – sometimes on walls, sometimes on the floor, sometimes even on Evangeline's clothes. She couldn't scream, she didn't dare to. Her heart was in her throat, and it was preventing any sound from leaving.
Then, a heartbeat. A slow, regular, omnipresent heartbeat shooked the air, indicating that life – albeit unnatural – was here. It was like they were inside the demon's stomach, signs of life were all around them but they felt crushed.
Or at least, Evangeline was – Caster did not separate from his unreadable smile, though he was giving her an apolegetic look.
At last, there was a voice – there was no clear origin to it, it was resounding all around her the same way the smallest sound echoed in a cave.
"In response to thy summoning, I present myself.
We are Goetia, but I am Bathin.
Who dost summon me?
What knowledge doth thou seek?
Where is thy objective?"
"..."
"...?!"
The summoning was a success. The voices inside their head confirmed it, the demon Bathin had answered and was directly adressing them. But as Evangeline expected Caster to answer his question, the latter didn't say a word. He simply stared above himself, where only darkness prevailed. All the eyes in the room were fixated on him; she might as well not have existed.
"Why doth thou ignore my words?
I can see them in thy heart; pride and conceit.
What knowledge doth thou seek?
Where is thy objective.
I, Bathin, can reach all place at all time.
Now, answer me."
"..."
"Why art thou obstinated so?
Thou art weak; I offer my power to thee."
"Then, I will take it." Caster finally deign to reply, but it was without a condescending tone.
"Good.
I will grant thy wish, if you chase hubris from your heart.
What knowledge doth thou seek?
Where is thy objective?"
"I seek no knowledge I don't already have, and don't want any from this world. The knowledge you could grant me is of no important, for I am aiming higher than you. My objective is nowhere but in this very place. Tell me demon, do you like that prison?"
"A conceited fool, such is the one that invoked me.
Doth thou pretend to order me around, even though I am graciously granting my power?"
"And I graciously accept your power. As I said, I will take it. I will take it from you."
"Conceited. Conceited. Conceited!
Thou deserve not my power, only my ire!
What makes you so confident, human? Is it this place in which you feel strong?
This...
This...
...
...
...
...
Where am I?
What is this place?!
I cannot...I cannot materialize!
This is a trap?!
What is this place?!
Why art thee standing inside the circle, thou should be outside!
What art thou planning?!
Where did thou summon me?! This place is...this place should not exist!"
"It doesn't exist yet, but it's a possible outcome for the World. An outcome I have made, but it is weak for now. As for why I'm standing where I am...that is because you are summoned to be inside me."
"Blasphemous! Preposterous!
I cannot be brought down by a mere human!
I will cannot fuse with thee!"
"I did not ask for your opinion. You see, due to an unfortunate reputation, I have more the making of a demon than that of a human. That is, my soul and body make for a perfect catalyst to absorb demons like you. This world you chastized is mine, and inside it the rules are different. I am the rules."
"No.
No!
Nooooo!
Do not!
Please!
Stop!
Thou!
Thee standing over there!"
All the eyes suddenly turned to Evangeline who was petrified. The whole room, verything in her sight was staring at her with a sad, tragic feeling to them. The eyes were panicking, powerless and pathetic, and she could only behold the show with horror engulfing every last inch of her body.
"Do not let him!
Stop him!
Save me!
Please!
I'll grant all your wishes!
I will take you to Heavens if thou will it!
Don't let me...!
Don't let me...
Don't let meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee-..."
The demon was gone.
What had happened to him? Was he imprisoned inside Caster's body? Inside his soul? But the way he struggled, fought back and begged Evangelineto save him; it seemed as though he was going to...
"...die." She could breath again. The oppressive feeling which had coated the room until now, had completely vanished. But even though fear was gone, it shadow as still lingering in this place. "What...just happened to him?"
She turned to Caster. With great shock, she noticed he was not smiling anymore. His expression was sober, stark even. She respected him from the bottom of her heart, and had a great deal of trust into him. But in this moment, she was thoroughly terrified by this lean figure surrounded by mysterious lights.
"'I world that should not exist'...huh? For an omnicient demon, you really were scared by the unknown weren't you. Too bad for you, we humans love the unknown. And this applies all the more to magi."
Suddenly, like a mirage the austerity disappeared from his traits, and were replaced by a familiar smile.
"Now then, Master. I believe we've overstayed our welcome in these mountains."
Thank you for reading!
This has to be the first chapter in forever that wasn't delayed by anything; hopefully, the rest can come out just as fast in the future!
The battle between Caster and Saber really hijicked this chapter, didn't it? I was hoping to showcase Berserker of White a little more, but that'll be for later I guess. Overall, this chaoter was really focused more on the White Faction, especially the Masters who have barely be seen so far – as well as a really unconventional Servant.
Once again, thank you for reading this chapter. Don't hesitate to comment, review or ask a question!
~Legends Storyteller