A/N: Hey ya'll. I'm back with the next chapter, and just to let you guys know, this is the LONGEST one to date. Near 20.000 words and 27 pages. Talk about a lot. Now, for a quick Reviewer Review:
1.) Arturia WILL return eventually people, so please stop asking. I have already explained this to you all, but I have something in the works. It will be in the next few chapters during one of the interludes between arcs, though, so stop bitching about that already dammit. Gets old really fast if you don't.
2.) Reki does have a Driver's license, he just was better suited to fighting while somebody else drove as he covered their escape in this situation. One of the requirements of joining the Dragoons was for those who became their field operatives had to learn to drive well enough to have a license. Just so you all know, so yes, Aya can drive too, but no, Rin and Illya are NEVER to get behind the wheel, as they would crash and kill both themselves and/or somebody else in the process. And that whole thing about Shirou taking so long, I believe I already explained this before: Shirou can use the First to the Fifth True Magics, but he is NEVER going to master them fully. He took a few minutes to properly get a fix on Reki's dagger after he had to readjust his jump point. Ya don't just pop in with the Kaleidoscope and pop back out. It takes careful calculations for anybody but Zelretch, and Shirou needed to redo his because of Reki not following his carefully made ones.
3.) Lastly for now, That comment about Vimana not supposed to take so long, yea, that was deliberate. I know Vimana can go that fast, but the reason it took Shirou so long was because he was worn out, his girls was hurt, and he needed to find someplace to hide and lay low while the rested and healed back up.
A/A/N: Updated the Harem/pairings lists. And a shout-out to the first ones who noticed I forgot Caren and Bazett. Thank you guys for reminding me.
Now for the disclaimer:
DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own either 'Campione!', 'FATE', or any other franchise referenced, as they are the respective properties of their respective creators and publishers. This fic is an AU of Marcus Galen Sands 'God Slaying Blade Works' on the premise of 'WHAT IF' based heavily on the 'Harem Ending' of Nua Realta, ideas taken from other fics credited as used, a meshing of canon lore, and my own original ideas thrown into the mix. This is a FREE, UNPAID FANFIC of a FANFIC, meaning an fan-made fiction of a fan-made fiction I wrote myself for no monetary gain on my part at all. So if you paid to read this, then you got ripped off. If you do not like it, then you do not have to read it. Nobody is making you.
And now onto the story:
Story Start
God Slaying Blade Works: The King of Wrought Iron
Twentieth Blade: A Trinity of Blades, Hidden Dragon, and a Sword's Resolve
Third-person P.O.V.
Long ago, there was once a nameless African deity, a god of war and blood, of violence and death. Wherever he went, war and conflict would erupt, and wherever war and conflict erupted, he would go as well. He had no name, for none would name him. As such was the terror and dread of his presence, and none was needed to refer him by; he was simply what he was, for names were meaningless for something that was as natural as breathing to him: A nameless deity of savage violence so brutal, so bloodthirsty, he caused all whom he met to fear his savage barbarism being unleashed upon them if they were unfortunate enough to cross his path.
In time, however, his worshipers had crossed over the seas, taking him with them and integrated with the local culture they found there, hence finally giving him the name of [Laran]. The God of War and Violence had changed with their beliefs of him, changing into the form of a naked man wearing only a helmet and wielding a spear. In a sense, the people whom worshiped him had become civilized, and so too had he become 'tamed', with the only semblance of his brutal savagery being the berserker-state his followers went into by stripping their armor in battle, taking drunken pleasure and euphoria in taking injuries in battle, and inflicting wounds upon their foes in turn.
In time, his worshipers were once more to be integrated into another culture, the Greeks, and [Laran] became [Ares]. But out of fear for the God of War's violence and savagery, he was changed, and turned into a bumbling fool, hated by all, not even properly revered by warriors any longer, and treated poorly by his new 'family' while only ambivalently treated by his people. His very attributes as a God of War given to [Athena], whom they sought blessings from for battles rather than from him. For years, he was bound by his myth, the once feared God of war and violence reduced to a bumbling fool of comedic cruelty.
Then just as before, the Greeks were too assimilated into the Roman Empire, and he was once more changed, as [Ares] became [Mars], regaining his militant might as a God of War under their worship. The bumbling fool became the mighty warrior once more, far more dignified and disciplined than his previous self had been. The god of battle and slaughter had become a true God of War in all sense of the term, for the Romans took the militant aspects of the God of Crafts and returned it to him, restoring him to his former bloody glory.
For centuries, the god of war had grown far more powerful and influential, granting his boon and his grace to both mighty generals and to great warriors alike, but just as it had before, it would not last. With the degrading strength and decline of the Roman Empire's eventual collapse, so too was his influence. His followers had carried him to the island nation of Briton, where he would actually find and meet his destiny.
Faced with the majesty and strength of the Strongest Steel, [Mars] had found a purpose to his existence he felt compelled to fulfill, choosing to follow the King Who Appears at the End of Eras, once more shedding his old name and donning a new one, along with a new mantle and armor to cover his old one, and taking a new name, meeting with other deities in his sworn liege's service, including a certain dying and nameless deity of steel in its final moments, and having later struck his sworn King down, breaking his oath and sealing his fate to forever have his identity tied to that of betrayal and treachery…
...for he was fated to become the first Black Knight symbolic of Betrayal…the Knight of Treachery… for his name is…
Shirou P.O.V.
Shit, this will not be a very easy fight, not that I ever expected it to be as such. This opponent is by far the most dangerous type I have ever had the misfortune to battle so far in this world, for one simple reason. [Angra Mainyu], as strong as he was, wasn't really a warrior or a dark lord as he was often believed to be, but a simple villager who fought not to win, but rather he fought not to lose. [Gilgamesh] for his part, was arrogant and looked down on everybody, making it easy for him to underestimate me and take him by surprise. The two of them were both too busy battling one another and distracted by me when I caught them by surprise and finished them both off after they had already worn each other down first. [Perseus] was selfishly seeking to fight his old enemy, and not bothering to take me seriously as an opponent from the beginning, and as such, not prepared for fighting me in a battle of actual skill, rather than cheap tricks, and had been caught off-guard by my 'stolen techniques'. [Melqart] was merely blinded by his rage against his last battle being interrupted by Godou-san and being reduced to a mere nature spirit for a time, making it easy to beat him, as he could not rationally think his actions through due to his uncontrollable emotions. As for [Hades], he had strength, speed, and stealth far superior to my own, but was very poor in terms of skill or even how to utilize it being a king rather than a warrior, on top of his unjustified anger towards me clouding his judgment.
No, the god I was battling right now was different solely because he didn't sacrifice either skill or strength; he fought using both effectively and simultaneously, and with brutal efficiency that had both balance and strength behind the blows. The most dangerous combination to go up against in any opponent. He swung at me with his drawn sword, I had just barely managing to trace [Kanshou] and [Bakuya] and deflected the blow, not blocked it, but deflected it. The sheer brute force behind his strike alone had I not done that would have most likely resulted in me ending up with a massive amount of broken bones from the impact and the landings after being sent flying through whatever happened to be in my path, if I was a normal human, if not outright killed me.
I tried to counter this using a particular trick of EMIYA's that he used a few times in his memories. I was off-balance from the blows and had no time before the next blow came, so instead of trying to firm my stance, I decided to jump back with the blow, using the force of the impact to put some distance between us while allowing me some breathing room, if only for an instant. If done right, one can easily jump back up into the fight with minimal effort and momentum wasted. Instead though, what happened was the force between the blow shattered the married swords into pieces, sending me flying back into a tree behind me. By the Root, it felt like I had just tried to block a damned cannon being fired right at me at point blank range. The tree I had crashed into was a rather sturdy one, but it had broken off halfway from the sheer force behind my collision and landed between me and my opponent...I think it may have actually bruised a few bones, if not cracked them slightly...what ridiculous strength to do that to my body, given how tough it is. If a normal Campione, if there ever were such a thing, were to fight this guy, that blow would have crippled, if not killed them outright...that's gonna hurt for the next few minutes while they heal with [Avalon] as I fight...
Taking the brief opportunity given to me, I quickly traced another pair of swords to fight with. Not [Kanshou] and [Bakuya]; those swords wouldn't work here, and I wasn't going to risk losing my new twin gun-blades that I had Reki help me forge for this fight. This god was not messing around; he wasn't taking me lightly in the slightest and was giving me the full brunt of his intentions to fight me without giving me an opening or weakness to exploit so easily, unlike my previous opponents had usually done from the get-go...I reiterate my previous thoughts: Shit. He's a fucking monster in a fight...
The two swords I traced this time was just a couple of nameless swords, nothing really special other than being perfect conduits for the [Dragon-Slaying Steel]'s effects. They were meant to be wielded with two hands, but with my level of physical strength as a Campione, on top of my enhanced parameters as a Sorcerer, it was child's play to wield them both one handed in my original duel-wielding style. While I may have based it slightly off of EMIYA's own suicidal style, I modified it using my tried and true method: actual battle experience. By sparring with some others in friendly training sessions, I was able to perfect it. It helped that Godou-san and his girls had come by my house after school for a few physical combat exercises in my dojo. They helped me as much as I did them in that regard, but they were only one of the means I did so to perfect it for my personal use. While his was meant for using disposable weapons, mine could make them permanent, so I had to adapt it slightly to suit me and my new, unique style.
Grabbing them in a manner that made any self-respecting warrior trained in the formal or orthodox methods of combat styles balk in incredulity, I rushed at [Mordred], leaving the holes in my defenses on purpose in a manner that made it look like I was mocking him...and he took the bait. Swinging at the opening I deliberately left open to my shoulders, I deflected the blows, parrying it with minimal movements. The force behind each blow resulted in me ending up spinning in the air as I deflected each blow swung, taking a few minor wounds and scratches from his attacks kept me airborne during the exchange, but never anything more than than that. This kept up for an exchange of aerial strikes countering a grounded assault before we were forcibly separated by the momentum of his last strike's force sending me flying back once again. The Black Knight before me then began to become wary of me, as he realized what I was doing. I knew it probably wouldn't be kept hidden from him for very long, but even so, he still wouldn't be able to counter it so easily, even if he knew what I was doing.
It's part of the reason why EMIYA was so damned annoying to fight up close in battle despite being an Archer: the cynical asshole was able to control the flow of battle to the point you danced to his tune and got right where the smug bastard wanted you to be for him to strike you down from where you least expected it. The fact he pulled a Trojan Horse against Caster in one of the iterations of the [Fifth Holy Grail War] by betraying Rin and pretending to ally with her was a dick move on his part, especially when he tried to kill the version of me in that war deliberately at every chance he got before coming out into the open with why he was trying to do so...fitting to end up being bested by the past version of 'himself' in that war by kicking his own ass and being forced to remember something important that he had failed to realize and had long since forgotten; something that should have made him realize that what he was doing wasn't wrong in the slightest for him to do, and was in fact commendable...
[Mordred] decided to try a different approach since he couldn't beat me with the way he was fighting me. He began to try a method I really hated going up against for one simple reason. It was similar in effectiveness to the same method my old man used to force magi to use their mage-craft to defend themselves with so he could use his [origin bullet] to kill them with: he baited me into attacking him so he could attack me with his shield by bashing me with it...it was the one reason why duel-wielding is such a pain in the ass with how impractical it tended to be in the real world. It may look cool and it may seem easy to do in movies, but it was anything but, as well as highly impractical. By using a sword in each hand, you were literally left with the only means of defense being to parry any strikes you could not dodge, and it was impossible to deflect the blows of a blunt-force attack in the form of a shield bashing you in the face...again, it was a method I REALLY hated being used on me, as it reminded me far too much of some of the things my old man did that made him a real bastard at times...and it pissed me off for [Mordred] to resort to such unpleasant methods as the memories it brought up…
'Trace On...'
*CLANG-CLANK-shnk*
"AAAAugh! Thou DARE to pull such a craven move as this?!" The Knight of Treachery seems to find my method to counter his attack very infuriating, but I don't even respond to his provocation or challenge to my honor. I know words are one of his greatest weapons, and I have no intention to allow him the pleasure of trying to twist my own to make himself look good. After all, the pen may be mightier than the sword, but actions speak louder than words ever will, and the time for talk has long since passed. He barely managed to block the swords I had traced and fired at him from his blatant attempt to bash me in the face with his shield, but not before one managed to pierce a bit into the elbow joint of his shield arm. If he wants to call me a coward for my choice of tactics, that's his prerogative. But the Knight of Betrayal has no right to say that to anyone for pulling an underhanded method in battle; he himself is guilty of that very thing, and to call me out for such is a hypocritical thing for him to do. Instead of responded with words, I just give him a deadpan glare right into the glowing eyes beneath his helm. The message I sent unmistakable…
'To talk in battle is a sin. Don't call me a coward when you back-stabbed your own King when he was at his weakest and most vulnerable, you Root-damned hypocrite.'
The sheer incredulity his body seemed to radiate from my glare caused him to actually pause for a moment as he realized just what it was he had said, before seeming to angrily mutter beneath his breathe as he continued to battle me. It seemed even he realized I wasn't going to buy his hypocrisy on calling others out on using any underhanded methods in a fight to the death. He pushed me back again, and this time, I decided to stop trying to fight him from up close and battle him from range. Tracing Archer's bow, I knocked the nameless swords I was using, and fired them both after a quick use of [alteration], and broke them. I launched them right at [Mordred], but then he did something I did not expect. He raised his shield to defend, and then the swords exploded on contact, but...he was completely unscathed from the broken phantasms, low level, but still...shit, his shield is apparently able to prevent any damage…
"Aren't thee surprised? Mine shield cannot be pierced, as it protects mineself from any of thine attacks. You cannot beat what thoust cannot harm." The Black Knight smugly claimed with absolute confidence. Okay, that does it, he is really starting to get on my nerves somehow, and it's not just my Reality Marble that finds him annoying. He's beginning to push my buttons, and that is not something very easy to do in my battle mode. Knocking another nameless sword and breaking it, I proceed to start firing and tracing broken phantasms in rapid succession, testing the rather bold claim of the Knight of Treachery as to his supposed invulnerability. I noticed it before during our clash, but whenever I got too close to actually striking him, he automatically seemed to counter in just such a way that I could not strike him...I wonder...As I continued my rapid shots, little by little, [Mordred] suddenly began to realize just what I was doing, and the arrogance he demonstrated before was replaced with slowly growing dread as he realized just what it was I was doing. I wasn't just firing my shots at him randomly: my 'arrows' were growing stronger with each one I fired. I was testing his supposedly invulnerable shield's durability.
Don't look down on a blacksmith, as even though I may be a sword at my core, my soul is that of a blacksmith's forge, with my mind a repository of thousands of years worth of blueprints and blacksmith's forging techniques. As such, I know that nothing forged of a craftsman's hands is infallible in it's durability, not even a God's weapons can be truly invulnerable; it has a set limit in how much damage it can take. Even a God's weapons can be broken, it just has a higher amount of punishment it can take before it reaches it's breaking point. [Mordred] realized what I was doing just a few minutes after I had begun my rapid fire assault, as he was suddenly having a hard time advancing on me as he had been, and realized with worry in his stance of what I was doing. I noticed his shield was most definitely sturdy, but it wasn't as indestructible as he had claimed it was; it had begun to show a small crack. Then I decided to use an attack I knew could pierce it, as there was no defense to block this particular attack; not even using [Rho Aias] would work, as it would just rip right through it.
I traced a sword I knew would do the job. It had an ornate handle of blue, silver, and gold ornamentation, with a blade that was twisted into a corkscrew shape. I still fired the nameless swords at the Black Knight by tracing them in mid-air to force him to remain in place, as I knocked the sword, and then proceeded to use [alteration] to compress it, making it more aerodynamic and usable as an arrow. I also used [reinforcment] to overcharge it, effectively breaking it, turning it into a broken phantasm…
"My core is twisted in madness..."
...I chanted the aria used for this particular attack, but I had no illusions about it actually managing to slay him. This guy was a God, and as such it wouldn't kill him...but it would manage to probably destroy some of his armor and that annoying shield of his. Realizing what I was doing, he tried to get out of the path of my shot, but it was too late. The shot I fired was already loosed before he could even hope to dodge it completely…
"...[Caladbolg II]"
[Caladbolg], the 'Rainbow Spiral Sword', and weapon of Fergus Mac Roich, the foster father of Cu Chulainn and the King of Ulster. It was said that in a fit of rage, he once used it to cleave the tops off of three hills in a single strike. The sword for me was more useful as a projectile, as when it was broken, I could literally warp space around my shot, causing it to be impossible to block or dodge completely unscathed. It was originally used and altered by EMIYA, who encountered it somewhere either in his time as a Counter-Guardian or during his lifetime somewhere, but he modified it into an arrow to maximize it's destructive blast's penetrative power. As an arrow, it became called [Caladbolg II], the 'Fake Spiral Sword', an altered copy of the Noble Phantasm he could break and fire after making on a whim. While mine is still only slightly inferior to what his was in terms of quality, I can more than make up for it with the [Dragon-Slaying Steel] reinforcing it to make it into the genuine article along with the use of [Denial of Nothingness] for the time being. And even if it's still just a crappy imitation of his for now, it's still good enough for this purpose.
In a burst of air and a sonic boom of an object flying at mach one speed, I let loose the 'arrow', causing a distortion in space in the form of a rainbow-colored aurora warping the very air centered around the projectile, bending and ripping space itself, and causing anyone or anything unfortunate enough to get caught up in it to get shredded and torn apart. Though [Mordred]'s attempt to dodge was commendable, it was nevertheless, a pointlessly doomed endeavor, for there was just one problem with his plan: Emiya Shirou never misses. Even without using [Hrunting] and long before I started using projection mage-craft for producing projectiles, I was quite the talented and youngest Master of Kyudojustu, and was hailed as a prodigy, but frankly, I didn't see it as that big of a deal. Even Fuji-nee said I could have been in the Olympics as a middle-school student with how good I was, but I didn't really care about that. I only learned Kyudo until I mastered its philosophy behind its practice and found ways to apply it to everyday use outside of archery. Besides, it gets boring after a while when you keep getting nothing but bulls-eyes, and I even missed once on purpose, just out of boredom. I am not even bragging when I say I never miss, simply stating a fact.
*BOOOOM*
And the Knight of Treachery just found that out the hard way in the absolute worst way possible for him to learn, in the form of a mystic explosion comparable to a ballistic tactical missile detonating right in his face after piercing his shield, utterly decimating it and his armor in the process. After I fired the 'arrow', I dismissed my bow and proceeded to replace it with different swords ready to trace into existence at a moments notice should the need arise. Through the smoke, I noticed movement, and was floored by what I had seen...what the fucking hell in Root's name...just how in the Blue's tits…
"You…you…HOW DARE YOU!" The Black Knight walked out, with the sword arm and the armor covering it destroyed, along with the shield, but for the most part, his armor was heavily damaged, but still holding itself together...I reiterate my thoughts: What. In. The. Fucking. Root-be-damned. HELL?! Just how did he not get more severely damaged than he did...just what the hell kind of defensive properties did that shield have...I've never seen anything that damned tough, not even in EMIYA's collective memories has there ever been any armor or defense capable of standing up as well as [Mordred]'s armor and shield had done...well shit, this was probably a good thing to get rid of that damned thing this early rather than let him whip it out later, but even so, I cannot help but say just one thing to him…
"...just what in the name of the Root is that damned armor of yours even made out of to manage to still be usable and mostly intact after taking that arrow head on...that damned thing could blow up three mountains in one shot..." I asked him with my incredulity written all over my face at the sheer ridiculousness at the thought. He only seemed pissed at me for destroying his armor, but he never showed any reaction to my attacks before...hang on...taking a second look at his arm where the armor was destroyed, I noticed there was another layer of armor beneath it, this one a leather armor, almost like a hunter's, but more militaristic, like a different style of armor…
[Mordred]'s only response to the destruction of his armor and shield was to take the steel-chain bullwhip he had strapped to his hip that survived the blast and unfurl it, his intent clear as day. He would probably have gone for his bow and arrows, if they weren't destroyed along with the quivers of arrows and the other swords he had strapped to his back-oh shit! Jumping out of the way, I just barely managed to dodge his lashes, but this is just plain irritating. He was throwing all decorum to the side, and the Knight of Treachery had started to swear very colorfully at me in some rather old fashioned curses as insults against both me and mine...huh, who knew the infamous Knight of Treachery could be such a potty mouth when sufficiently provoked—wait-a-minute...how am I able to dodge his attacks so accurately now? I could only just barely managed to do it before by making him target where I wanted him to do so, so how am I able to read his moves and his whip now-! Oh, so that's it. He didn't really flinch when I tried to attack him before up close, but the instant I damaged his armor, he began to lose it, and he even stopped being so unpredictable. Now that I look again, I noticed that the leather looking armor beneath the destroyed section was black with what was left of his gauntlet still on his hand—wait-a-minute...ah ha, so that's it…
"...I get it now, that armor of yours is part of your authority, and by destroying it, I countered your authority of anonymity. You cannot hide your true intentions, if the Black Knight armor you were wearing was to be damaged or destroyed, can you..." The slight flinch at the mention of his authority being negated was all the response I needed. The smirk I felt tugging at my lips all but caused my suspicions to be confirmed by his angry response to my question...
"Damn you, Damn you, Damn you, Damn you, Damn you, DAMN YOU!"
...His angered response caused him to lash out even faster, causing me to barely dodge with the most minute of margins to spare. Okay, this was just getting ridiculous now, he's turning into a Berserker; more strength and raw power, but in exchange for lack of finesse and skill. Getting fed up with playing this game of 'catch me if you can', I decided to jump back out of his range. I then decided to try something I haven't tried before in an actual combat situation yet: bringing out the new weapons that would eventually belong to my children and family. In this case, I decided to trace the whip-swords that formed when I got Rider pregnant. The two chain-swords were obviously designed to resemble snakes but had also had a mirror image of one another in their respective traits.
In my right hand, I traced one that was silver and blue in color, with a bit of a hook on each bladed segments, causing it to shred a target as it ripped across their bodies. It had a bit of an ethereal glow, reminiscent of water and light. It gave off a feeling of both benevolent compassion, and malevolent destruction in equal measure. It was about the length of a short sword, with a single handle, but with a bit of a hidden trigger mechanism on it, the blade was able to both extend and retract as needed, depending on the manner you pressed it and for how long. It's name was [Ouroboros], the 'Jaws of the Infinity Snake'. It was a weapon with a strong connection to both water and light. Both can bring about life and death in equal measure, depending on how it's used, just like the Dragon of Infinity brings about life and death in equal measure, for which it was given its name. It also could not be used by any who did not possess nobility of heart or the best of intentions.
In my left hand, I traced it's twin, with gold and red as it's coloring. It was blunted at first glance compared to it's counterpart, but it had a sharp texture on its surface like shark skin. It glowed with an eerily dark crimson, and felt as though it had been solidified out of fire and darkness, while also radiating a quite a bit of both heat and blood thirst, enough so that it actually would have melted solid rock, yet impossibly, it didn't catch anything on fire it's wielder did not wish it to, nor did it feel uncomfortable to me in the slightest to hold it. The end of this one had a bit of a spiked flail at it's tip, with a deceptively large amount of weight that was seemingly impossible for its small size, but also didn't affect me in the slightest, just like with it's heat. It's name was [Bahamut], the 'Lord of the Abyss'. It was a sword-whip with dominion over both flames and darkness, with the ability to feast on it's targets blood to strengthen it's wielder, healing any wounds, and restoring itself from any damage. However, just like it's namesake, it would only allow those it deemed fit to submit its might to wield it, just like how the primordial dragon from whence it's name was derived. It would not submit to those corrupt of heart or ill of intent.
Idly, I couldn't help but think if any of these weapons might end up being indicators of what my children will end up being like in terms of both personality and affinity, and if so, then they will be ones I would be proud to call my own, as the two weapons in my hands are those who resonate with both protection and vengeance, as well as joy and wrath in equal measure, just like me when it comes to those whom I call my family. Gripping my newest weapons, I take to engaging [Mordred]'s chain-whip with my two chain-blades. In a flurry of lashes, he and I end up in an impasse, before I decide to pull something I bet he never saw coming, and what I will not like doing for these two, but the sentience of steel within them is willing me to do it if it means helping bring this deity down, as if the steel within them is screaming at him in rage for a slight against them for some odd reason. Acknowledging the will of the steel in my hands, I wrap [Bahamut] around his whip, trapping it as it wraps all the way up to his arm, then I lash out with [Ouroboros], wrapping it around the rest of his body while his attention is preoccupied with trying to untangle his weapon from mine…
"Break! [Ouroboros]! [Bahamut]!"
...and detonated the two whip-swords, destroying what was left of his armor and weapons, reducing them both to useless scrap metal. They both shattered in their respective elements: water and light for [Ouroboros], darkness and flames for [Bahamut]. The vampiric properties of the later actually rejuvenated me and restored my stamina slightly before it was destroyed from the damage dealt to [Mordred] by breaking it, while the former actually shredded him apart with a high-pressure jet of water from each of the sharp hooks.
As I waited for him to come back out from the dust and dirt kicked up from the blast, I once again contemplated what was up with both my weapons and the [Unlimited Blade Works], as these reactions were not quite normal, even with the oddities I've had with them lately. I wonder what is up here…
"You damnable Bastard of Pandora! You DARE to destroy mine Armor!"
...as he walks out, I notice my suspicions was true. Beneath his first armor, was a second set of armor, but this one was Roman or possibly even Greek in style, reminiscent of an Imperial General or a Spartan Military Commander. He had the look of rage in his posture that spoke volumes of his hatred for me in this exact moment. What little remnants of his Black Knight armor were ripped and crushed off his body, crumbling away into the wind as he discarded the pieces...I wonder…
"Do not think that by destroying mine armor, thine has the advantage. Thine has only destroyed one of mine mantles, but not the deadliest, thee hast only stripped mine first layer, not mine strongest. It was merely mine past as a knight thou hast taken from mineself. Be honored, for there hath been but two before thee whose hath done likewise."
...well, shit...if the Knight of Treachery is supposed to be his incarnation and reflection of his past as the black knight, then that just plain sucks ass. He wasn't exactly known for his honor in that legend, and the fact it's his most honorable so far doesn't give a very good impression of him. I had quite the trouble just trying to destroy his first armor; the only question now is which incarnation is his current form representing, and what abilities does it have?
Suddenly, a group of soldiers appears out of the crumpled remains of the steel fragments of [Mordred]'s Black Knight armor and weapons. They all take the form of a platoon of soldiers in the Roman style of arms and armor, and each in perfect formation and synchronicity. I could probably take these all out with a rain of steel, but...something about this doesn't feel right...He's challenging me this time, not as a Knight, but as a Commander...oh, so that's it. If I fight him myself right now, then I have no doubt he would step in to deal with me personally after figuring out too much about my capabilities. So instead, I will fight him as a fellow Commander in a platoon versus platoon battle. Grabbing the charm in my pocket that I Jokingly referred to as my 'battle bag' that I always keep on me since I first made it, I started calling upon the very Authority I use it for. I made this very sturdy bag in the image of a talisman the size of two of my open palms to disguise it from the masses for what it was: a bag filled with the catalysts for [Lord of the Dead] that was made from Kevlar, polyester mesh, treated leather, and a few runes disguised into the design for extra strength to summon forth my undead servants forth.
Never looking away from my foe, the words I speak freely come forth from my mouth as instinctively to me as breathing and saving others...
'I am the Monarch who reigns supreme over the nether, he who commands the souls of the afterlife, and decides whether a death is Just. For I am [Lord of the Dead].'
...and summoned forth the undead servants who've sworn their fealty to me and chosen to answer my call whenever I call for their aid. Compared to [Mordred]'s uniform and orderly army of Roman Legionnaires, mine is a rather ragtag bunch. My motley crew has viking berserkers, samurai warriors, chivalrous knights, ninja masters, and even a few modern day Yakuza assassins and hit-men. While normally those last two would not be on anyone's list of potential servants to call forth from the dead, I grew up raised by a Yakuza group. I don't judge them based on their appearances or their professions, nor do I judge them for their contradictions for their chosen path in life. Plus, I made sure to test each and every one of them after I did a great deal of research on them prior to offering them a place in my services, and they all passed. If [Mordred] wanted round two to be a battle between commanders, then so be it. I just hope he doesn't expect it to be that easy. My motley crew may look like a ragtag bunch, but appearances can be deceiving, and I have taken a few trips to the Emiya Ranch to try and do a few team exercises with my undead servants, just in case a situation like this ever happened.
"We stand ready to aid you, M'lord. Give your orders, and we will follow them to the best of our abilities."
The one who addressed me was none other than Sir Ian, a knight who fought in numerous battles in life, and has experience commanding troops. He was among the best boons and luckiest finds I ever had when I had first summoned him. Not only is he a perfect sparring partner whenever I needed one to hone my skills and test out any new tricks I had thought up, but he is also a skilled commander, weapons master, and a strategist. Despite being a low-born commoner-turned high-ranking knight in life, he was just as sharp in mind as his blade was in battle. He wound up proving to be a competent vice-commander, able to help take the motley crew of undead souls and turn them into a potential fighting force to be reckoned with. He was possibly the best undead servant I had summoned back from the dead after Reki and Renji. Turning to reply, I respond and gave my orders.
"Those steel soldiers are the enemy. Take them down, and leave their commander be for now. He's my opponent for this battle."
"As you command, my lord." With that, Sir Ian turns around and gets my summoned servants into a battle formation that seemed rather disorganized and half-assed, but that was only in appearance. They charged forth against the steel legion, going at their enemies with their respective combat styles. Vikings were charging and sweeping an arc with their great-swords and indomitable spirits. Samurai were calmly striking any who dared to get too close down with swift and deadly efficiency. Knights were entering a great melee or firing upon them with a rain of arrows in vicious and brutal accuracy. Even the Yakuza assassins and hit-men were doing some rather impressive hit-and-run tactics alongside the Shinobi warriors and Ninja masters, and they didn't exactly get along with each other at first between their respective groups. But after some team building exercises and training in coordinated platoon and squad battles, they became rather good friends with one another both on and off the battlefields.
While they were technically undead, they didn't appear skeletal at all, or at least not obviously apparent. If one took a closer look, they would have noticed their faces were sickly pale and their flesh was slightly see-through and transparent. The battle was going fairly well for their first actual platoon combat, but even so...I knew something wasn't right. My suspicions were confirmed just moments later when the weapons my undead servants used could not pierce the armors of the steel legion and were suddenly getting wiped out in a counter-offensive. Doing a quick check with [structural analysis], I realized that [Mordred]'s steel legion was nothing but empty suits of armor, which made me realize, they were a bunch of animated hunks of metal, no different from automatons or golems. Shields in a phalanx formation at their front and moved steadily forward, with all attempts to break through failing. The quality of my undead troops wasn't the issue; the problem was their weaponry; the Steel Legion's armor and shields were enchanted to resist any attacks my forces made. This would be a bit of a problem if things went on like this...time to lend my aid to my troops.
Trace...on...
Tracing a series of rather distinct red spears, I made multiple copies, several for each of my remaining forces."Sir Ian! Take these spears and have them distributed among the troops remaining who can use them with any level of proficient skill. It will negate their defenses by bypassing the magic protections directly! Use them to take the enemy troops down!"
Laying down several dozen traced copies of [Gae Dearg], I have Sir Ian and a trio of undead Yakuza grab them and begin to carry out my orders. The 'Crimson Rose of Exorcism' is one of the most potent anti-magic weapons in my arsenal, with the power to bypass any magical defense, rendering the source of said magic neutralized while pierced by the spear. When the spears were handed out, the battle once more went back into my favor. After the last steel legionnaire fell, I did a quick head count, and frowned at what I found. I had initially summoned a full three-hundred and fifteen undead servants to battle [Mordred]'s five-hundred-strong [Steel Legion], and of them, only about fifty were left.
I wasn't upset that they didn't have more last until the end, no, what I was angry about was that they were killed in battle against a guy who didn't use living forces at all. My soldiers may have been undead, but they were still once living people. The way that [Mordred] seemed to have no qualms over sending his forces to their deaths, even if they weren't living, was just plain wrong. He didn't show any qualms at all, nor any hesitation in the slightest, and that's what bothered me. If he was a God of Steel, even a God of War at that, then why didn't he show more reaction than this...something isn't right here...is he even really a God of Steel…
Scene Change
Guinevere P.O.V.
The battle with Mordred was most certainly an unusual one. I decided to watch the battle from atop a nearby cliff, and wait for the chance to strike my hated enemy down. I might not be able to take him out on my own in an upfront fight, but borrowing power from the [Holy Grail], I may just be able to slay him when he lets his guard down, but I won't get more than one chance. I honestly didn't think this Eighth God-slayer had much chance to beat [Mordred], especially when I noticed he had singled him out, meaning he was targeting him from the very beginning. I was simply waiting for the chance to strike the traitor down, and I thought I had my chance, but then the Eighth God-slayer jumped back into the fray, and displayed a feat I could scarcely believe I had seen, despite having saw it with my own eyes…
I have seen quite a few different battles before over the decades, and even in the centuries of my previous life, but this...He was battling [Mordred] in a manner which used his whole body as a trap, countering the Black Knight's authority of anonymity by forcing him into striking where the Eighth Devil King knew they were coming, then countering it in a manner that could be considered suicide...and yet it was ingenious. By forcing his opponent to strike at openings he himself made deliberately, he could always defend, and forcibly control the flow of battle in his favor. Not only that, but he was also deflecting attacks that should have by all rights been completely unblock-able, and doing all of this with absolutely no wasted movements, and only the bare minimum required expenditures of his own strength. What's more, he even proceeded to strip that traitor of his First layer and negated his authority of anonymity, forcing him back into one of his prior incarnations. Even more impressive, the weapons he used were a pair of matching, yet contradictory whips with the powers of opposing elements and named for two different primordial dragons of old. Then he proceeded to summon an army of undead servants in response to [Mordred]'s [Steel Legion]. He managed to take out the legion, but lost a good chunk of his troops, and looks angry about the traitor's complete apathy and disregard of the losses. I was starting to watch the battle between the two far more closely than before...perhaps this Devil King can be of more aid to me than I initially thought...and maybe I can finally figure out why his bizarre abilities draw my curiosity so…
Scene Change
Shirou P.O.V.
This guy was really starting to rub me the wrong way...something about him just didn't feel right. It was like he didn't mind losing his troops, yet even the most ruthless commanders and generals felt something when their forces fell in battle, whether it be rage at their perceived incompetence, sadness at their loss, or disappointment at their failure. But [Mordred] showed none of that...just what is going on here…
*Shwing*
...huh? What the-what just happened? Oi, why are my undead servants suddenly getting downed by a series of crimson blurs...I didn't even have the chance to truly see what they were, but the only reason I didn't detect them was because the attack was not aimed at me...
"Well done, thee hath bested my legion, thus this armor's abilities are nearly used up. However, I have another Authority to use against thee. Be proud, for thee hast forced mine hand to reveal an authority I do not like having to resort to, but I felt thee hath proven thine mettle. One I've hath only used once before on a most troublesome of thou's kind."
...and a large number of crimson filled the air behind him-
ABOMINATIONDEFILEMENTDESTROYABOMINATIONSHATTERBREAKABOMINATION
...what the fucking hell in Root's name was THAT THING?! I scanned them with [structural analysis], but what I saw...pain, terror, rage, agony, misery, sin, atrocity...they all have nothing but atrocities associated with and embedded within their very being...these THINGS are NOT swords, nor are they actually weapons, but even so...boy am I glad I actually can't copy them. Every time I try, they just simply leave my reality marble, but even if they could be recorded, I would immediately force myself to forget them out of mere principle alone...the sheer memory of the memory of all the atrocities of wars contained within just ONE of them...oh by the sweet divine whore who felt heaven...who would even dare to to produce such an ABOMINATION as these-these-things?!
"So, how does thee plan to fight against these Atrocities of War. These swords of mine are the manifestations of all wars' atrocities and crimes from whence I hast held dominion over. The sins and sufferings, the rage and misery, all of wars' brutalities are contained within them. Tell me, thee has the ability to create blades, but can thee match my thousand swords of War's Atrocities? I think not." [Mordred] smugly declared to my face, his tone completely assured of his victory over me...his posture one of absolute certainly, like he was saying the sun will rise from the east or commenting about the weather...
*SNAP*
In that instant, something within me just snapped, his very words caused me to feel a deep-seated hatred of him for his blatantly arrogant insult to the very idea of a 'sword'. For the first time in a very long time, I felt the urge to murder someone in cold blood from the very bottom of my glass heart for this desecration...and he just found himself on the very short list of people I truly hated, along with Kirie, Gilgamesh, and Shinji...fitting that all the people on that list so far are all dead men...lowering my head to the point my eyes were shadowed by my bangs, I gave him my thoughts of his declaration...
"..."
"Hmm, what didst thou say? I didn't quite catch that?"
"...I said not to fucking insult me with that damned abomination you call a 'sword'."
[Mordred] looked a bit dumbstruck by my blatant language, before he suddenly shivered in absolute terror of my wrath right as I lifted my head up to stare at him dead in the eyes, my golden left orb burning like a forge from hell, with my right silvery one hardening into a cold, steely death-glare, both eyes filled with murderous rage and letting him know exactly what he had just made the mistake of doing…
"A thousand swords, you say… Where are they then? Because those are NOT swords, they are merely abominations in their shapes, an effigy in their form, but they are NOT 'swords'..." The sheer murderous intent coming off of me in this moment shows just how pissed off I was at his blatant mockery of a blacksmith's sacred craft. His 'swords' are but abominations insulting the very idea of what 'swords' are. I did not unleash my rage, oh no, I wore my wrath, murderous intent, and blood-lustlike a Root-fucking-damned coat, fully manifesting the Asura in all it's bloodthirsty glory upon him, and any sense of mercy or understanding I could or would have given him was gone. [Mordred] was a dead man walking, and I was about to become his executioner. You DO NOT insult a sword in such a blatant manner as this heresy…
"You are fucking dead, [Mordred]." There was no uncertainty in my voice, no compassion, no warmth or kindness, not even a single bit of my typically laid-back and easy-going attitude. Oh no, I was in full-on Magus Killer mode, and come hell or high-water, I was going to fucking kill this Root-damned bastard…
"A thousand counterfeit swords? Is that all you've got? How insulting. I went up against HUNDREDS of THOUSANDS of swords before at the hands of [Gilgamesh] before I even became a Campione, and yet you think to beat me with a mere fraction of that?! You go ahead and use your insult of one measly thousand blades, and I will raise you by INFINITY!"
...and a whole WALL of blades of all kinds appeared behind me. Swords, Axes, Spears, Halberds, Pole-arms, Daggers, Scimitars, Buster Blades, Trench Knifes, you name it, and every type of bladed weapon that fit even loosely the definition of 'sword' materialized right behind and above me from the depths of the [Unlimited Blade Works], blocking out the very sky above with the sheer amount of steel, iron, and blades ready to rain down upon him at my command. The sheer disbelief in [Mordred]'s gait was all I needed to know that if his face was visible, then the look on his face would have been priceless and rather satisfying to see, if only it was visible. The Asura behind me was also absolutely visible, even to me. It's eyes were bleeding, and it's face set into a countenance to match my wrath at this moment. Fitting for the rage inside I felt for my foe…
"So tell me, Knight of Treachery..." I spread my arms in a rather uncharacteristically mocking manner as I taunt him one last time before we started Round Three…"Do you have enough 'swords' in stock?!"...before I fired them at him in a manner that was more of an avalanche of steel and blades than a rain like I would typically do. [Mordred] got the message, and fired his own 'swords' at mine, colliding the two opposing forces, but I was also on the move, heading on a collision course right for the insolent prick. I am normally fairly polite for the most part, but this guy crossed the one line you just never do with me, and wound up right on my 'Kill on sight' list. I don't have many people on it, and it funnily enough also happens to be the 'People I hate' list.
The effigies of blades tried to hit me, but each was met with a wall of hundreds intercepting them before they even could so much as touch me. I was not so much as straying from my course, nor was I going around. Oh no, that wasn't going to happen; I needed to make a point to this bastard, and the best way to do that, was a head-on assault in the most straightforward path imaginable: the path right in the middle, straight to his face.
'Come forth Ayamari, Crush them Yagarish. The time for hunt and carnage is nigh' upon us. Do battle the likes befits a warrior of Twin Clubs!'
I summoned the twin clubs right into my hands, planning to bash his face in along with his armor, for his blatant insult. I was absolutely PISSED right now, and I intended to give him a reason why never to do that, the hard way. But as angry as I was, I also knew not to let my guard down. I was charging at him head first, but I was not in a blind anger. After summoning the twin clubs [Yagarish] and [Ayamari], I move forward towards my goal. In an explosion of steel against fake steel, blades against effigies, I rushed onward, straight at [Mordred]'s face, as I swung my clubs at him, [Yagarish] heading right for one of his blades raised in his defense, the one I noticed he kept by his side, and when it connected…
*SKRSH**WHAM**KRNCH**WHUMP**BOOOOM*
...the mocking effigy of a sword shattered from contact with [Yagarish], followed through by [Ayamari] slamming into him from the other side, striking three times in rapid succession, true to its name as 'the chaser', before landing a second and final strike from [Yagarish], slamming him into the ground hard enough to crater the ground beneath him from the sheer force behind the swing leaving a massive crater about twenty meters in radius, and [Mordred] right at the epicenter of it. Normally, I would never put any serious strength behind 'the crusher', simply due to the sheer destructive power a light tap can do to pulverize a boulder the size of a small bus into a pile of gravel, but in this particular instance, I didn't really mind if I killed the one I hit with it. I was just THAT pissed off right then and there at the moment.
*GUUAHAACK*
Coughing up a bit of his blood, [Mordred] most certainly got the idea right then and there: You do NOT insult a sword by making an effigy of one to me and expect to walk away from such an insult unscathed. A sword is not just some blade attached to a handle that anybody can slap together. There is more to making a sword than that. These things, these-these...ABOMINATIONS...were NOT swords. Having made my point clear to him, I moved to strike him again, but before I could strike again, my instincts blared in warning, and I just barely managed to dodge back out of the way of a slash with an effigy in the form of a corrupted blade. I didn't even need to have it touch me to know that thing was not something I wanted to be hit with. I could already guess what it was: a poisoned blade of some kind. I may not know what it would have done, but just by the instinctive urge I feel not to be hit with it, I can pretty much guess. Lethal.
Tracing a nameless knife noble phantasm and firing it at the toxic blade, shattering them both, I removed the potential threat of a poisoned blade. I may have immunity to poisons and toxins, thanks to [Avalon], but that is something that would still slow me down a bit, and I cannot afford to be anything but my best with this guy. I started to move forward to continue my assault, but before I could get any closer too him than a few feet, I was suddenly sent flying back with the force of a damn two-ton truck…what the fucking hell just happened…
Mordred P.O.V.
This cannot be happening...this damnable Bastard of Pandora and Child of Epimethius has been far more trouble then he ought to have been by all rights...I haven't been forced this far into a corner since my battle against HIM...I tried to use my Legion after he bested my Knight, I used my Atrocities of War when they were bested by his own troops, then when I tried using my [Blade of War's Curses], he shattered it with yet another of his damned weapons after he dodged my attempt. And now I am being pummeled by a damned pair of over-sized clubs like some rodent in a child's game the mortals have created in the time since I slumbered-what did they call it again...whack-a-rat or something? How humiliating…
At this rate...I might lose...is that really going to happen? I, who have never once been beaten except at the hands of theKing of the End, the one whom I have sworn to surpass and am fated to claim the title of the Strongest Steel from...will I truly lose, before my fated battle for my destiny…
…..
…
….
….NO, I CANNOT lose here, not to a damned mortal! I have one last authority to use, my oldest one, but no, it's not yet stable, but if I don't use it now then...dammit, I have no choice then but to use it! I CAN NOT AFFORD TO LOSE HERE! NOT YET!
Shirou P.O.V.
"...ooww...did somebody get the number of that truck..."
Ugh, what the hell just happened...one second I was about to finish off [Mordred], then the next, I'm being sent flying back after being hit by what felt like a two-ton truck...turning back to my opponent with a pained groan as [Avalon] healed me back up, I suddenly froze at what I saw, my very pupils dilated, and my breathe choked within my throat, for what I saw before me...was an absolute ABOMINATION…
It looked like [Mordred] used yet another authority of his, but...something was wrong with it, he was thrashing around wildly without any of his prior display of skill as a warrior. At first I thought some kind of mad deity had tried and failed to fuse a dragon with a suit of armor when I saw this abomination. It was at least thirty-seven meters tall in height...it was bigger than my frigging house, and I live in a mansion...What's more, it looked like some kind of scaled beast with wings and claws, but had metal grafted into its hide replacing its reptilian scales, turning it into some kind of metallic monstrosity. It had what looked like a giant suit of armor sticking out of it's chest, the helm where the lower jaw should have been, going all the way down the chest, shoulders, and torso of the creature, with metal spikes and blades seeming to protrude from it's body in seemingly random places. The most disturbing part of this thing was the fact it had no eyes, no ears, or even a nose. It seemed to have no facial features at all, with it's maw lined with multiple rows of razor-sharp metal spikes acting like teeth, the crest of the helm making it look like there was bone sticking out in a morbid display from it. The suit of armor had two arms sticking out, each wielding a massively over-sized blade that even it's arms could never properly wield and simply dragged along the ground.
There's just something wrong about such a nightmarish beast, especially since it wasn't something even a mad deity would ever consider making as a creature...but wait a second...a God's authorities aren't supposed to do this, they are a part of their legends, the myths that give birth to them, as much a part of who they are as breathing would be for anybody else, and they should always reflect the deity from whose legend it gave rise too...then what the in the name of the Root is this effigy of a dragon—wait-a-minute...
It suddenly clicked into place. It makes perfect sense now. The reason why [Unlimited Blade Works] seems to feel absolute loathing for him, why several blades within it wishes for me to fight him, and even realize as I thought about it why all of said blades all had one thing in common: they were all Anti-Dragon weapons...it all makes perfect sense now…
"You're not really a God of Steel at all, are you? You are a God of War, but not a true deity of steel, merely one who was changed into one over time, the weapons and armors layered to cover your true nature almost fooled me. But you aren't a true God of Steel, for you were not originally steel, nor were you ever one at your core. You are a God of War, but one of Earth and Blood, not Steel and Chivalry. And what better embodies the vicious brutality and savagery of the Earth than a Dragon. If you were a true God of Steel, I wouldn't have been so confident, but you're not. You're a Dragon, and you picked the absolute worst opponent, because I can kill a DRAGON!"
...and now I let the boost of the [Dragon-Slaying Steel]'s full effects take hold, dismissing the [twin clubs] in favor of tracing a new weapon. It was a two handed great-sword, with little to no ornamentation aside from a rather distinct talisman hanging on a tassel from the pommel. It had a broad single-edged blade that was longer than I was tall, but the materials it was forged from was the bone of an ancient dragon. The blade was merely a nameless sword once wielded by a long-forgotten dragon-slayer who once used it to slay a group of dragons, but died of a curse he suffered at the hands of the very beasts he had slain in question. I simply traced it by random, but it would do. After all, it's time to begin a dragon hunt…
Guinever P.O.V.
I was riveted to the scene before me, then realized I had forgotten to breathe. I may have been an immortal of divine origin, but even I was not divine enough to ignore the need to breathe. Recollecting my attention to the scene before me, I could not help but be in awe of what I was witnessing. The Eighth God-slayer had unleashed such murderous wrath by [Mordred]'s blatant taunt that he actually made even the traitorous knight freeze in absolute fear for his life. What's more, he not only shocked me beyond all expectations in his performance against [Mordred], he even went so far as to surpass them by pushing the hated traitor farther than even my beloved King of the End had done during his infamous betrayal of him so long ago. My memories may have holes and gaps in them, but the one thing that I recall clearly is the Knight of Treachery's strength is not something one can underestimate, as he could battle the armies of Campione raised against Arus and managed to perform such a heinous act as wounding the Strongest Steel. The Devil King even managed to reveal the traitor's true origins, not as a Heroic Deity of Steel, but that of a Warring Dragon of the Earth! Even in all my time I knew him, never had I once thought of [Mordred] possibly being the King of the End's natural enemy all this time.
I couldn't look away from this battle even if I wanted too, but even so, I have to be prepared to act just in case. I must not lose my focus, lest I end up missing my chance. Taking the time necessary, I start to cast the spell necessary to slay the traitor in the event the Eighth Devil King fails. I must be ready to act, just in case, and I even draw a bit of power from the [Holy Grail] itself in order to 'supercharge' the power behind it and ensure it would be enough to finish the job...but I'll only get one shot at this...I must not miss. Yet even so, I cannot help but to be amazed. This Devil King was not even twenty years old and was the newest of his peers. I assumed when [Mordred] singled him out for battle he would become a lamb to the slaughter; instead he was pushing that traitorous knight to the very edge of his powers...not even the Strongest Steel ever managed to push [Mordred] that far in his infamous betrayal of and subsequent battle with the King of the End...
Shirou P.O.V.
Under the effects of the [Dragon-Slaying Steel], I am now having less trouble than I had before. With [Ayamari] and [Yagarish] no longer swinging left and right, I used the nameless blade in my hands to battle the dragonic abomination, switching from overwhelming brute force to finesse and precision. It wasn't anything special, just a nameless noble phantasm wielded by a long-forgotten dragon-slayer. Even so, I found it to be a very oddly appropriate weapon to wield in this instance for some odd reason. The blade itself felt like it radiated a desire to fight the foe before it, and I felt like there was no reason to refuse obliging it's wishes. I weaved in and out of his attempts to lash out at me, trying to snap me up within its metallic jaws of the monstrous abomination he turned himself into. He wasn't even a challenge to me right now, but even so, I need to be careful. Still, I cannot help but wonder...is the reason he didn't use this authority before not so much he didn't want to use it, but because it was something he couldn't use. That would make so much more sense, now that I think about it that way.
The last time he descended upon the mortal plain, the heretic god before me was a single entity: [Laran], [Ares], [Mars], [Mordred]. After finally managing to successfully analyze the swords he swung at me without his authority of anonymity, I realized that all of these were his names, but his identities were not tied to one another properly the last time he descended upon the mortal plane of existence. The different Deities that make him up should have been separated, as the modern era had separated these Gods as different individuals thanks to mass media and television. That was why this form of his was, for lack of a better word, wrong. It was diseased, rotting, practically putrid in the sheer wrongness he gave off in this form's discrepencies. These contradictions are making this particular authority unstable. The second he returns to his myth, these contradicting aspects of his original being will fragment into the separate entities that they should have become a long time ago. While this power might have made him stronger, it also gave rise to such a twisted and diseased form as this rabid berserker before me.
Dodging yet another blind swing of the metallic abomination's proportionally incorrect limbs, I started to begin carving it up with my blade. But there's just something not right about all of this...it's way too easy...something's not right here...My instincts are telling me there's something wrong, that he was plotting something, but I wasn't sure or able to figure out just what it was, just that his next move was going to be dangerous...Wielding the nameless dragon-slayer in an overhead stance, I began to swing it overhead for added momentum, jumped high over [Mordred], then proceeded to bring it down upon his head, slashing a large gash then I moved before he could counter me yet again...but something was still bugging me about this whole thing, some nagging in the back of my mind that wouldn't leave me alone, so to be safe, I decided on adding a little something else into the mix. I knew it would also be a bit of a gamble to use it now, but I felt the strong urge to settle this fight now before whatever he's plotting can finish this battle before I can.
'The parents watching their child die. The soldier cut down in the middle of battle. The pauper in the alley stabbed. The beggar in the ditch looking to the lord's palace. I take from them their grudges, their hate, their malice, and unleash [Never Ending Vengeance].'
Channeling the curses of [All the World's Evils], I channeled it into the nameless dragon-slayer in my hands, the disgusting feeling of fetid, putrid, raw sewage flowing within my circuits along with the authority. This was part of why I hated using this authority. Normally, using this authority in conjunction with [Dragon-Slaying Steel] active and a sword that was used for slaying a dragon would result in it exploding on me, as I had discovered from learning the hard way in my experiments. However, I had also learned that I could use the two in conjunction of one another with certain weapons and blades that had strong ties to curses in some form or manner, such as cursed weapons like the Dragon-slayer in my hands. Although it was the weapon of an unsung hero who slew a whole flock of dragons, it was also a demonic weapon cursed by the very ancient dragon's bone from whence it was forged by bathing in its kin's blood and brought about said wielder's death at the hands of the curse placed upon him in his greatest and final hunt. He brought the dragons down, but the curse caused his wounds to cripple and eventually claim his life. As such, this sword is one of the few I can use so far with both authorities active at once.
As I ran up to the metal-dragon-abomination, I flooded the curses into the blade, twisting it into something far more sinister looking as it greedily drank up the curses. This sword was similar to [Meradach] in the since that the Sword of the Original Sin was a powerful sword of a hero but was highly compatible with curses from its origins. Figuring it was best to start out with something simple and weak, I used the weaker curses of retribution and slowly built them up as needed in terms of power. Dodging yet another madness-induced swing, I began my counter-assault. Due to him being the God of War and Blood, he is the absolute perfect target of [Never Ending Vengeance]'s curses of retribution. Since he is has dominion over not only numerous wars, but all their atrocities, the fact he picked me as an opponent was a double mistake on his part to single me out to fight against; He was both a dragon and a God of blood and conflict, whereas I was a God-slayer with the power to kill dragons and inflict curses of retribution upon the wicked.
It should be a no-brain-er that I would be the victor of this battle, and yet...this was all just TOO easy a victory...I was never this lucky, nor was I ever matched up against something like this where I held the advantages for so long...Something is just bound to go FUBAR, it's simply a matter o-
*BOOOOOOOOM**CA-CRASH**WawhahwahwaWHUD**SHLK**GAHACK*
Yep, I called it...the second I began to try and finish him off after inflicting [Never Ending Vengeance]'s curses of retribution, he did something, shattering my weapon and causing the divine curse-infused blade to explode, sending me flying through five different trees before stopping...son of a bitch, that fucking hurt...I knew that using the curses of [All the World's Evils] could come back to bite me on the ass with my E-rank luck, and I was right...to make it even worse, I was just pinned in place via impalement to the said Root-damn tree by what looks to be a primitive spear made out of animal bone of some kind...or what's left of one anyway...Good news, it hasn't damaged anything too important that won't heal with [Avalon]; Bad news, it forced me to lose my grip on [Never Ending Vengeance], so now I'm being wracked by crippling pain on top of being impaled to a fucking tree...looking back to where that metallic abomination was before being blasted, I internally swore very colorfully by what I saw...I knew completely just how how badly I was fucked in this moment...why...just why...Murphy's Law always has to bitch slap me upside the head so damned hard every chance it gets…
Where there once stood a massive metal-dragon-abomination, there was now a tall, dark skinned man with very minimal armor, and by minimal I mean a helmet and nothing else. By the Root, the god before me was completely in the nude aside from a ceremonial-looking helm fashioned from animal bone and hide along with a rather small loincloth that did very little even to protect his modesty. There was a wooden shaft made from what looked to be another spear just like the one I was impaled on with a second obsidian flint weapon carved from the stone in his other hand. His eyes were a very disturbing blood-red, that seemed to glow in an eerily crimson with his face seemingly snarling at me in a furious scowl...and he was directing his murderous rage right at me...By the Root...fuck my E-rank luck…
"I suppose that thee hast mine gratitude, forth on thine one hand, thee hath actually forced me to return to mine roots, mine very origins, by battling you, yet still now thine battle hath ended, with thine own defeat..."
I realized just what the heck happened now...shit, it would seem that I was right about him trying to wield a power that should not have been usable in the first place...and now he has managed to gain control over his form by turning it into what he was truly in his original incarnation. He drew his stony weapon, and I got a better look at it. It wasn't so much an obsidian sword as it was an unholy union of a club and an axe of some kind made out of obsidian and flintstone, capable of hacking, slashing, and bashing. He was also walking towards me, fully intent on finishing me off, if the sadistically bloodthirsty look in his crimson eyes was anything to go by...
"...yet on thine other hand, thou hast forced me to revert back into mine original form as a God of Earth, which hath made all mine attempts to turn from Earth to Steel rend-ed fruitless. For that, thine death will be slow and painful."
He was about to walk another step towards me, before something unexpected happened. A spell in the form of a lance of magical energy as big around as a Greek column and as long as a telephone pole was shot out at [Mordred], resulting in a blast that kicked up dirt and dust, blocking him from view...but who attacked him just now…
Guinevere P.O.V.
I saw how [Mordred] was distracted by the wounded and injured God-slayer, and realized this was the best chance I had to strike him down. I had long since finished casting the spell, I was simply waiting for the right moment to unleash it. Firing the spell, I saw it hit where he was, and kicked up a cloud upon impact from the force. I watched closely, waiting to see if it hit him, before I was suddenly grabbed and dragged from the cliff I was perched upon and dragged down to the very battlefield where I had fired at the traitor...I had missed…
"Thou would believe that thine spell went unnoticed by mine attention?! Thee was not as subtle as thine thought!"
This is bad...I needed to call Sir Knight right away. Opening my mouth to try and chant the spell words, however, was only met with a crude weapon in the form of [Mordred]'s spear striking and sending me back a few feet on the ground with enough force to break my legs and making me scream out in pain. I could probably heal from this easily if given time, but I was not in a position to do that so easily right now…
"Thou shalt not call thine protector here Guinevere! Thou shalt not! If thee tries to utter a single attempt at a spell, mine weapons shall take thine tongue! Thou shall suffer a thousandfold for thine attack on mine self, Guinevere!"
Dammit...I knew this may happen, but I still could not help but curse my own helplessness in this situation. Though by some miracle my legs weren't broken, my ankle had been twisted on one with the other having the bone bruised. I wasn't going to be running anywhere for a while, so I did the next best thing in my current condition that I could do: crawling away on my hands and knees as fast as I could to get away until they had the chance to heal. Unfortunately, [Mordred] was not letting me get away so easily.
Screaming as he struck me again, this time he did break my legs. He grabbed me by the top of my head, dragging me by my hair, with an animistic fury in his eerily glowing crimson and bloodshot eyes, all I could do was scream one thing before I believed I was going to be killed…
"...Help me, Lancelot!"
...and then my plea was responded to with a blur of motion from the last person I had expected to save me, yet made me think of Sir Knight for some odd reason with his attacks and his moves...
Shirou P.O.V.
Dammit...I can't move right now...the fact I'm practically pinned to a damned tree not withstanding, the backlash of using [Never Ending Vengeance] is wreaking havoc on my body, filling my mind with pain. I don't know who that was who attacked [Mordred] just now, but whoever it was, I was barely cognizant of my surroundings. I could barely make out some shouting, and the sounds of a sickening crunch, but I could barely register it through the pain…
"Thou shalt...Guinevere! Thou shalt not! If thee tries..utter...shall take thine tongue! Thou shall suffer...Guinevere!"
...wait...what did he just say...Guinevere...as in Lady Guinevere, the Queen of Camelot...I heard yet another scream of pain and the sound of something being struck…
"...Help...Lancelot!"
...within the very depths of the Unlimited Blade Works, the series of countless weapons suddenly began stirring from a long dormant slumber, the spirits of their original long-dead wielder's long since faded away, yet their wills having been embedded within the steel of their very weapons, the personalities of said wielder's most of all…
...Guinevere's...in trouble...must...save...Guinevere!
...and most of all, the weapons of the Knights of the Round, the Defenders of the Kingdom of Camelot, suddenly awakened from their slumber at this singular desire, and the weapon of a certain Knight of the Lake most of all was eager to answer the call to arms...resulting in something so unprecedented, it could even be called a Miracle…
...SAVE...GUINEVERE!
...In life, Sir Lancelot du Lac regretted many things: he regretted breaking his sworn oaths, he regretted betraying his King, he regretted murdering his own brothers in arms, he regretted his King not punishing him for it, he regretted falling into madness as a result of the guilt, he even regretted not joining his King at Camlann when he was prohibited from fighting and not going anyway in defiance of his participation's prohibition even after being stripped of his status and title as a knight and banished from Camelot. But the one thing he will NEVER regret was loving Guinevere...for even in his madness and everything else he has done only to regret, Sir Lancelot du Lac would NEVER allow her harm...the love he bore for her so strong, it even embedded and engraved itself deeply into his sword...
...ripping myself from the tree while ignoring the most painful sensation of the spear ripping and tearing through my flesh imaginable, I moved completely on instinct...what's a few drops of pain compared to the ocean of agony that I was already in...not even thinking about it, I reached out into the [Unlimited Blade Works], simply taking any weapon that will answer my call at this moment, and a sudden surge of strength overwhelms me for the weight of the blade that ripped itself out of my inner world in response as it answered my call…
...and the Unfading Light of the Lake jumped at the chance to fulfill the singular desire of it's original wielder...the regret its master suffered in failing to save his love deeply embedded into it, and the Weapons of the Round rallied to lend their aid as well, in response to the sensation of their King's sword being wielded by a successor...with each waiting to do their part in the Miracle of the Weapons of Camelot's finest about to take place…
...in a sudden burst of sheer speed, as time around me slowed to a crawl from instinctive use of [Magic Blue] and [mana burst], I struck out, lashing at my foe in a manner which would have made the Knight of the Lake himself proud as [Arondight], sister sword of [Excalibur], weapon of Sir Lancelot du Lac, and the 'Unfading Light of the Lake', found itself held within my left hand…
...with its emergence, came knowledge. With knowledge, came purpose. And with purpose, came the strength to surpass the physical limitations of the pain that had been blacking him out into oblivion. Gripped in a firm stance, the sister sword of 'The Sword of Promised Victory' was grasped in the hands of the Second King worthy of its sibling, and acknowledged the purpose for which he sought its strength, causing the seals on Excalibur to release, unlocking almost half of them, one for each blade and Weapon of the Knights of Camelot to be wielded in just mere moments, as the Weapons of the Round Table stirred in response to the call to arms once more by the wielder of the sword they served under…changing the Sword of Promised Victory to something more...
"WHAT?! How art thou still even awake?! How doth thee find the strength to stand, lest of all battle so?! And just what is thine sword?!"
Before I answer him, I simply turn to glance at Guinevere from my peripheral without taking my attention off of [Mordred]. She is most definitely not the Guinevere that Arturia knew, but rather this worlds version. She isn't the same one...but that doesn't matter, nor does it change what I have to do next…
"[Arondight], the 'Unfading Light of the Lake', sword of Sir Lancelot du Lac, and sister-sword to [Excalibur]."
I heard Guinevere gasp behind me in response to the revelation, but [Mordred]'s reaction was a snarling bellow of feral rage so beast-like, the next questions coming from him was almost unintelligible from how he growled them out…
"Why dost thou interfere?! What possible boon dost thou gain from thine intervention?!"
It took me a second to realize just what he was asking, blinking in response before as I simply smiled with my answer to his question…
"Does anybody need a reward simply for merely doing what is the right thing to do? After all, it's never wrong to help others."
Mordred suddenly went quite as my response seemed to sink in for him. The recognition on his face one of absolute shock at my words. I could also practically hear Guinevere's mind racing from my response, as though she recognized my words from somewhere. The next words he asked, however, was asked in an eerily emotionless monotone.
"...what art thou?"
I simply chuckled as I gave him the same smile on my face."...so you haven't noticed...I suppose it makes sense...after all, [Ama no Murakumo no Tsurugi] noticed it almost immediately after drawing its attention...but I should've guessed a God of the Earth would not have noticed it so easily..."
Guinevere P.O.V.
The one who came to my defense was none other than the God-slayer whom I had rightly assumed should not have even been able to move from his wounds...I knew that sword in his hands, and yet, at the same time, I did not know it. Yet he called it Sir Knight's weapon...that bears investigation, especially his claim of it being the sister-blade to my King's own [Excalibur]...but that should be impossible. I would have known if something like that had existed, much less if Sir Knight had such a blade...but the words he said in response to [Mordred]'s question caused the shocked gasp that escape my lips to be nothing by the implications of his next words…
"Does anybody need a reward simply for doing what is only the right thing to do? After all, it's never wrong to help others."
My mind froze for a second, began to start running a thousand miles a second, crashed, then started doing the same thing all over again before the implications of what he had just said had finally sunk in. Those words...that was exactly what that mysterious god of steel who once knew the King of the End said just before he died...but then that means…
"...what art thou?"
"...so you haven't noticed...I suppose it makes sense...after all, [Ama no Murakumo no Tsurugi] noticed it almost immediately after drawing its attention...but I should've guessed a God of Earth would not have noticed it so easily..."
Frowning by what his words said, I decided to check what lain within his soul, but caused my mind to completely screech to a complete stop and not move again, blanking at the sheer impossibility of what dwelt within there, for what I saw...was a world of NOTHING but infinite blades as far as the eye could see…
"WHAT?! What art thou, to have such steel within thee?! What art thee truly?! NO mortal should hath such steel at thine core!"
Shirou P.O.V.
"WHAT?! What art thou, to have such steel within thee?! What art thee truly?! NO mortal should hath such steel at thine core!"
"...steel? I am not steel." I could not quite help the smirk and slightly bemused chuckle at that. As I reach over to my left shoulder, where the [Shroud of Martin] is kept tied around my left arm, pulsing prana into the fabric with my right hand as I did to remove the seal…
Shroud of Martin...release...
"I am Sword..."
*SHWOOOOOOOOOOOOM*
The sheer prana I released in that moment was dense enough to shred something just by getting too close to me, causing a sudden surge in both my physical and mystical parameters. The output of my prana after becoming a Campione was already massive, but when my body had altered the second time after I had inadvertently achieved sorcery, I had to do something to contain the sheer prana output to a more manageable level in order not to cause problems just by my mere presence alone. Archer's Holy Shroud remnant just so happened to provide the perfect means to help in this endeavor. By using a bit of [alteration] and a few other custom-made minor mystic codes I forged myself in conjunction with it, I was able to create a seal of suppression to limit my total prana output. By releasing the seal, I can go all out with my prana output completely unhindered. While I may not need the seal to prevent anybody from being harmed by my presence, I would still cause stuff to be shredded, so I took to utilizing it for a day-to-day life. I can manipulate and direct it at specific targets, but I cannot prevent it from destroying something just for being too close.
Stabbing [Arondight] into the ground, I rush forward, reaching out for any other weapons within the [Unlimited Blade Works] to heed my call. The ones who answered were the rest of the Weapons of the Round, each eagerly awaiting the call to fight this foe, even [Clarent], oddly enough. Guess it takes offense to its former master being compared to this world's version of Mordred. Tracing the blueprints for each one, I ready them to be brought forth into the world whenever, and rush forward, manifesting the weapon of one of the youngest and most promising, yet possibly the most tragic among those of their ranks: [Ira Lupus], the Raging Maiden Wolf and lance of Sir Gareth. 'His' jousting skills was the best among the Knights of the Round, which was praised by Arturia herself as the best among her knights, and from my reading of its history through my tracing, the way 'he' lived, fought, and died was best described and summarized as 'the most promising potential as a knight, having the ferocity of a relentless wolf in battle, yet the tragically innocent loyalty of a sad puppy.'
In life, Sir Gareth adored Lancelot, one could even say it was a rather one-sided crush that even Gareth herself wasn't even aware that she felt for her idol. When Guinevere was set up to be executed and Lancelot's infamous betrayal to save her, she refused to don her armor or weapons, infamously stating she was not there willingly, which became her downfall as she was killed by Lancelot by having her skull crushed in his enraged massacre to stop her execution and save Guinevere... a rather sad twist of cruel fate for a maiden in love without ever even realizing or knowing she was ever in love or what she was feeling for the Knight of the Lake...Gareth's regret is that she couldn't help Lancelot until it was already too late, nor did she realize how she felt for him until her dying moments...her last thoughts of admiring the man she had sworn to follow...
Launching forwards, I strike with each blow of mine causing some major winds to burst forth from the tip of the spear, propelling [Mordred] further and further back, a few feet with each blow, in a battle of beastly might that I idly noted finding comparable to that of a fight between a fleeing dragon and a relentless wolf in mild amusement. In an attempt to force an opening to counterattack, [Mordred] attempts to attack Guinevere by throwing his spear at her, but I wasn't about to let that happen...Without even breaking my stride, I traced another Weapon of the Round: [Lord Camelot], the Fortress of the Everdistant Utopia, and shield of Sir Galahad the Silver Knight. It blocked [Mordred]'s strike, sending the cross-shaped shield flying back twenty feet from the force of the impact and the thrown spear deflected off-course to disappear into the forest nearby with a resounding boom from the impact.
Sir Galahad was the son of Lancelot du Lac, and while he may have despised being compared to his father in his later years, he admired him in his youth, and was considered and described as 'a saint who found the grail, yet returned it to Heaven'. Though he died in the battle on the Hill of Camlann, he was one of the few loyal knights to remain with Arturia to the very end. His sole regret in life was his failure to protect those he swore to do so, and the failure to keep both his King and Camelot protected...
Having had enough of this, I decide to start getting real serious now for that last one...
"My Body is made out of Swords"
...and summoned forth two different weapons this time from two different Knights of the Round. In my Left hand came forth [Excalibur-Galatine], the Sword of Revolving Victory, and the sword of Sir Gawain, Knight of the Sun and Arturia's right-hand man during her reign over Camelot. It had the power to literally unleash the flames of an artificial sun upon its target, due in part to Gawain being 'the sun' whereas Arturia was 'the moon'. If the Sword of Promised Victory cleansed with light, then the Sword of Revolving Victory did so with flames, and it was fully living up to its name as the other sibling sword to [Excalibur] alongside [Arondight] by unleashing its fiery wrath upon [Mordred]. In life, Gawain regretted not comprehending the suffering of his King, not realizing the depths of the pain Arturia was willing to endure until it was too late, and upon his dying breath at the Hill of Camlann, swore an oath that if he was to be given a second chance, he would do even better and properly serve his King as he should have been all this time. This oath was deeply embedded within the sword itself, and his wish became reality as a Heroic Spirit, truly becoming the embodiment of a Knight of the Sun with his sword following his engraved will's wish and answered the call to arms for its sister-blade's new master eagerly.
In my right hand however, what I called forth was something that would have raised quite the number of eyebrows in sheer incredulity at its presence. What I called forth was not a sword, but an odd-looking bow with of an ornately coiled and shaped silver-colored metal wire in place of wood and numerous bowstrings, looking much more like a harp with numerous strings than an actual bow for archery. This was the bow of Sir Tristan, the Knight of Lamentation: [Failnaught], the Fantasia of Lamentation. However, this was no ordinary bow, as the bow itself was actually the harp-string of Tristan's favorite harp that he would pluck to shake the air off of it. It was a bow that created a vacuum arrow that was nearly impossible to dodge the bullet of air fired from it. Tristan's life was one filled with misery and suffering from the day he was born. Many were his regrets and despairs, as befits his title as the Knight of Lamentation, but none more so than his regret of leaving Camelot and his King's service before the final battle, dying later after suffering a poisoned blade in an unrelated battle. His very parting words which he muttered as he left becoming an unintended curse upon his brothers in arms that eventually spelled their end. This was deeply embedded upon his weapon, as he wished he had stayed to battle with the good Monarch he felt he had betrayed with his leaving the Round Table, a wish his bow is eager to fulfill in place of its first master.
With [Excalibur-Galatine] firing off cleansing flames at the Heretic God before me, [Failnaught] was doing a different purpose. Though it was used mostly as a bow, the Fantasia of Lamentation was also able to make traps out of its string, as that string was the true form of this Noble Phantasm, producing vacuum traps in the form of snares capable of devastating and shredding the ones unlucky enough to be caught in them, or even taking them out by wrapping the string around their necks and plucking it to behead them. I was using it in a similar manner to this last one for close combat, as an impromptu vacuum blade to slash the very air itself in pursuit of [Mordred]. By making the vacuum, I created pockets of concentrated air, thereby causing the flames produced by the Sword of Revolving Victory to be greatly enhanced and the heat produced strengthened to the point of potentially exploding into a burst of near-supernova level heat. Though he might have been a God, not even divinity could walk away from that kind of heat unscathed unless they were a deity of the sun or flames, neither of which was [Mordred].
"Iron is my Blood, and Glass is my Heart"
Taking full advantage of the intense flames raging around the Dragon-god before me, I dropped the weapons in my hands to the ground as I continued forth, manifesting the next Weapons of the Round: the [Grail Sword] and the [Red-Hilted Sword of Balin], the Sword of the Virtuous Knight. The former was the weapon of Sir Percival, one of the Knights of the Round Table capable of determining the condition of the Holy Grail. It changes it's appearance in reflection of this, as well as to what the Grail's condition is in the current world its in. In a world where the Grail is damaged or corrupted, it would show signs reflecting the specific changes, whereas if the Grail was untainted, it would actually become strengthened greatly. Currently, the Sword of Sir Percival was in a deceptively serene-looking state, with the sword's sole blemish being a large eerily green crack glowing along the side of the blade from the damage it took in its wielder's legend. In life, Sir Percival regretted how he was not there to aid his King at Camlann, nor his failure to attain the Holy Grail for Arturia as she tasked for him to. Now, his sword eagerly seeks to accomplish any task it is given for its King's successor worthy to wield the Strongest Sword…
As for the latter, Balin was never an official member of the Knights of the Round. He was really a prisoner of the Round Table who was just released from his imprisonment when word was received of a sword offered by a damsel that could only be drawn from the scabbard it was stuck in by a virtuous knight. All the knights tried and failed to draw the sword, when Balin asked to give it a try. When he pulled the sword from the sheathe successfully, he was allowed to keep the sword, however, he was warned that the sword was cursed to ensure his own destruction by slaying the best friend of it's wielder with it. That came when the curse was fulfilled when he accidentally killed his own brother, Sir Balan, in battle. It was then later taken by Merlin and placed in a stone, only to later be drawn by Galahad. His sole regret was that he caused the fall the one he called his best friend and brother, and could do nothing to prevent it. Now, his sword wished to aid his sibling's sword in any endeavor it can with their new King…
Using the [Grail Sword], I powered through the flames, ignoring the heat of the fire as well as the pain as it cauterized my injuries shut, and proceeded to run [Mordred] through with the Sword of Sir Percival, making the God of Earth howl and snarl in both rage and pain in equal measure at me, before I cleaved the weapons in his hands with the Sword of the Virtuous Knight. While the flames were obviously bothering the Knight of Betrayal, I suffered far worse in the Fires of Fuyuki. Not much could ever hope to match up to the cursed flames of that hell. After I disarmed him, I decided to start letting loose…
"I have created Infinite Blades"
Sir Bedivere, Sir Agravain, Sir Palamedes, Sir Gaheris, Sir Kay, Sir Ector, Sir Ywain, all the Knights of Camelot, whether famous, nameless, and even those unsung heroes among their lower ranks who have long since been forgotten through the passage of time, I began to trace their swords, spears, axes, and unleashed them upon [Mordred] in an iron rain. He was literally impaled to the ground in place as the iron and steel of numerous weapons began littering the ground around us. There was now only four weapons of the Knights of the Round I have yet to call forth, but feel one wasn't quite right to use yet, the second wasn't for meant to be used here, the third one would be best to use to finish him off with, but the last one was something I felt was oddly appropriate…
"Forged From Heaven's Feel"
...as I summoned none other than [Clarent], the Radiant and Brilliant Royal Sword. This was the very sword that denoted the right of succession to the rightful heir of Camelot, stolen by Mordred during 'his' rebellion of Arturia's absence from the Royal Treasury, and without approval. While the sword was supposed to be a beautiful and holy weapon on par with [Caliburn] and the sibling-sword of [Florent], Mordred's hatred for her 'father' and rage at Arturia's rejection of her had twisted the once beautiful holy sword into a demonic sword cursed with his malice towards the 'father' who rejected him. It feel's the strong lingering urge to be approved of, yet will only allow those that are rightful Kings to wield it, such is the sword that perfectly reflects the Knight of Treachery's personality. Unleashing a blood-red [mana burst] with the blade of his counterpart, I fired at [Mordred] and let go of [Clarent] before the final slash, letting it stab into the ground after letting it vent its rage at supposed 'Knight of Betrayal', having been satisfied by lashing out at which it felt was an insult to its former master, and pulled the last blade from within the depths of my soul that would finish him off…
"Tempered through Hell's Flames"
*SHUNK*
...as I sunk my final weapon for this battle into his chest, the god calling himself the Knight of Betrayal simply went wide-eyed at the weapon now sticking from his chest in recognition of it…
"...Ex-"
"[Excalibur]"
...I whispered as the sword cut him off with an explosive burst of light, blasting a hole big enough to fit a basketball into his chest and still have plenty of room, killing him instantly before he ever had the chance to even hit the ground. As his body disintegrated into dust, I fell to my knees in exhaustion, pain, and worst of all, mental fatigue as I resealed the [Shroud of Martin] from all the weapons I summoned back to back and using their previous master's skills left and right. While I may have the prana reserves now to keep up a fight like this easily, my physical and mental stamina is still limited. Granted, I really had far more mental strength than any normal person should ever have, and my stamina may have increased along with my prana reserves, but still, right now...all...I want...is...to...sleep...
Guinevere P.O.V.
I was absolutely floored by the display I had just had an upfront view of. Now only had this God-slayer fought and slain [Mordred], he even revealed the traitorous deity's true nature, and unleashed all kinds of weapons I cannot help but feel was familiar, yet at the same time know I have never once seen before...crawling over to the fallen Devil King, I notice that his wounds, though they are healing rather unusually fast, are badly scorched and will possibly cause him a great deal of trouble later, as his stamina is most likely heavily drained. I can sense his life is not in danger, despite how much he must be physically drained, and yet...for some odd reason, I just cannot bring myself to leave him be…
While I could easily teleport myself away to heal myself, it would be rather ungrateful of me to not repay the debt I owe this Devil King for saving my life, even though he had no need to do so...but there was only one way to heal a Campione…
*Fwoosh*
AAAAH, why am I getting so flustered for?! I cannot just let him go unrewarded after he saved my life, but at the same time, it's my first kiss...and I do not know what to do, or why my heart is leaping from within my chest as it is beating so hard...just what is wrong with me?! Why am I acting like some love-struck mortal for?!
Steeling myself, after getting my emotions back under control, I decided to do what I knew was embarrasing for me to have to do, but felt had to be done anyway…
"Consider this an honor, to have Guinevere's first kiss...Sir Shirou..."
I am not sure why, but saying his name and seeing his face was making my mind melt like butter...AAAUGH, this is getting ridiculous! After I healed him, I quickly healed my legs enough to get around on my own before I hastily began to teleport away just as he was coming to, with a bright red blush burning it's way up my face at the thought of ever seeing his rather handsome looking face again—AARGH, what is going on here?!
...As Emiya Shirou came to after his battle, he had no idea, he was currently being watched by a couple of individuals, watching him from the distance, nor was he aware of the trio of weapons that suddenly appeared within his Reality Marble they placed there, right at the center of his world, along with a few new statues to go along with them…
...not until some time later, when he checks the changes of whatever was going on within the world of Unlimited Blade Works…nor just what significant history they have with him personally when he finally does...
Scene Change-Netherworld-Susanoo's Domain
Third-Person P.O.V.
"So, how did he do? How'd it go?" [Susanoo] asked the two visitors as they returned.
"He did pretty damned well, in my opinion. Even managed to score himself yet another girl in the form of that little witch who served that numb-skull calling himself the 'King of the End'. Honestly, he is ridiculously popular with the ladies to the point of it being ludicrous...then again, [Xiphos] was just as bad, if not worse, as he was a full Primordial Daemon, not a merged one like the boy is." [Muramasa] responded back with his usual flippant attitude, albeit with a rather irked and exasperated smirk as he can already tell just what the boy's future is most likely going to be like with the ladies. The Demon Swordsmith isn't sure if he should be envious of his popularity, or pity his situation, though he himself doesn't want to be in such a position personally, considering how the last family he had turned out. He was not planning to die by being murdered by any jealous lovers like certain other Deities of Steel did.
"...he is truly obtaining far more of [Xiphos] latent abilities than one would expect. Yet oddly enough, the two are actually in a symbiotically beneficial arrangement: the boy becomes his heir and eventual successor, attaining his powers in order to achieve his dream, while the Primordial Daemon's remnant helps to ensure he does not break and prevents him from straying and retaining what little of his compromised humanity he has left and even regain some of it back. It is truly a wonder, for the original Divinity of Steel, from which all other Deities of Steel derive, to have chosen a mortal of all things as the one among his very descendants to merge with in such a manner...it's almost funny how much the two of them actually had similar ideologies and ways of thinking even before that woman meddled with his fate...Oh, how I wish I could be there once he gives [Alaya] a taste of what humanity has suffered as a result of her abusing Master's stolen power..." Replied yet another new face to [Susanoo]'s territory of the Netherworld.
"Yes, I couldn't agree more with you there, old sage. It is only a shame you will be freed of your position before that happens. It will be a bit lonely in your part of the netherworld without you there anymore, [Plutarch]." Spoke [Masamune] a bit sullenly. The Sword Saint knew that the Old man of Time was merely kept immortal thanks to overseeing and safeguarding the fragment of Akasha that [Xiphos] had entrusted to him so long ago. He will have to return it to the boy eventually, as it is rightfully his, and when he does, then his curse of immortality will be lifted, allowing him to finally pass away after his duty has been fulfilled and ending his life instantly. He will miss being able to speak with the Custodian of Fate very much over the specialty tea blend he makes himself from scratch.
"Do not fret, [Masamune]. While I may be gone, I can assure you, the blend I use is most likely something that can be gained from the boy after he fully inherits his birthright as the successor to the Primordial Daemon's power. After all, it was [Xiphos] who taught me how to make that tea blend, and I very much doubt he would not have passed the knowledge onto Emiya Shirou as well as his position and powers." The Old man of Time said as he knew exactly what the Sacred Blacksmith was thinking, much to his relief. The two had often hung out together, so for the two, their routine talks over tea was something they both enjoyed as a method to pass the time.
"Oh yeah, that's right I almost forgot. It will certainly be strange, not being able to see you ever again. After living here in the Netherworld for so long, I actually forgot you not even an actual god, but merely an overseer who resides here to keep [Alaya] from getting her hands on you or what your holding onto for the old Daemon." [Susanoo] actually speaks up in sudden realization as he remembered that important fact. While [Plutarch] may technically be more immortal, he is still human. His immortality is simply a curse he took upon himself to prevent [Alaya] from being able to find him by hiding in the Netherworld, where she has no control or means of doing anything. The only way she could would be by sending in her Counter-Guardians, and the gods who call this realm home would flat out thrash them from the realm if they did step one foot within the plane of existence. This was their place to spend their existences in peace. Attacking their home was grounds to have every god turn around and attack her in retribution. She may have stolen the position as the Owner of Akasha and Overseer of the Throne of Heroes, but not even she could fight a war with every true god that exists simultaneously and honestly expect to win.
"Still, it is good to know I will finally get a my well-deserved rest I put aside so I could fulfill this last task from my Master...though I do feel some concern...how will the Demon King of Wrought Iron who sits atop the Throne of Heroes feel, when he sees just what the King of the End has done to his ancestor's corpse...I don't want to even imagine the destruction of the wrath he will unleash upon the poor fool of a god for such a betrayal of the Primordial Daemon. He was the first of his kind, the progenitor of the race that became the Guardians of Humanity itself, the ones who eventually became the first Gods of Steel that we know them as today...the sheer desecration that bastard showed...it won't be pretty when the two finally meet face to face, especially considering the bargain he made with [Alaya] to try and keep the boy from ever confronting him..."
...the gathered deities could only shudder at the thought. After all, the Primordial Daemon was the First Daemon, and his rage towards those harming any he took under his protection was rather notorious among the few who were still around and remembered it. The thought of his successor having as bad a temper as him was a frightening enough thought to consider such a force of nature unleashed...making them actually feel sorry for the King of the End for what they all knew was coming…
...the fool only brought it on himself by trying to outwit a prophecy, only to make an even worse situation to take its place for himself to suffer...all they can do is carefully prepare to minimize the damage as best they can, when the inevitable clash begins, as prophesied by Xiphos himself just before he died...
A/N: And that's the Chapter peeps. Just so you all will know, yes, there will be a slight inclusion for the aftermath next time of the Monkey King arc, as well as the introduction of the Feast of King's interlude from GSBW. These will be a series of interlude chapters before I do a few slight additions for the events leading up to it, as well as a few minor characters with slight plot relevance later on. And as promised, here is the Harem/Pairing Listings so far for God Slaying Blade Works: The King of Wrought Iron!
Shirou:
Caren-Seven Children(all boys)
Bazett-Five children(two boys, three girls)
Rin-Four children(first twins, 1 boy and girl, then a boy and girl for third and fourth child )
Sakura-Five children(first twin girls, then triplet boys)
Medusa-two twin girls
Ayamatsu-three girls
Oda-six children(four boys, two girls)
Illya- three children(one boy, two girls)
Guinevere-four children(one son, three girls)
Futsunushi-sextuplets(all girls)
Arturia-four children(two pairs of twins-two boys, two girls)
Alice-five children(three girls, two boys)
Annie-five children(two sets of twin girls and an eldest son)
Lucretia-Fifteen children(eight boys, seven girls over several sessions, including twins)
?-twenty children(fifteen girls, five boys including a few sets of twins over several sessions; won't reveal her name, as it hasn't been revealed yet)
Hercules:
Luo Hao-Sixteen children
Lancelot(serving as a fellow guardian spirit for Godou)-five children
Godou:
Erica-four children(one pair of fraternal twins, one girl and one boy, two other sons later)
Ena-three daughters
Yuri-three children(two boys and a girl)
Liliana-two children(one boy and one girl)
Hikari-twin girls
Athena-triplet girls
Circe-twenty-two children
And that is the Harem/Pairings list for now and the number of their children for now. Also, yes, I will update this list at a later date as well. as for the higher number of children for some of them, lets just say those are some rather enthusiastically fertile couplings and leave it at that. Also Lancelot will still become a guardian spirit for Godou like in canon, she'll simply also be in a relationship with Herc as a fellow guardian spirit who catches her interest, proving that there are SOME women who don't automatically fall for him just because they happen to be in contact with him. But damn, over a thousand favs and twelve-hundred follows...I am really on a roll. Until next chapter, PEACE OUT!