hnh058513: It's the idea.

Guest: You really think I wrote this story without thinking ahead? That I put Pyrrha in Shirou's place on a rash impulse? Of course not! I saw the similarities between Shirou and Pyrrha. They are two redheads who want to sacrifice themselves to save their world. The difference is that Shirou made a pact with Alaya... while Pyrrha never became the Fall Maiden. The scene in the previous chapter where Pyrrha intervenes to protect Arthur... Sounds like a bad parody of Shirou? And yet no... it is quite in Pyrrha's way of acting. Before she climbed to the top of the Ozpin Tower to face Cinder, she moved Jaune away to avoid endangering him... As she has always protected him since they first met. Remember when she saves Jaune Arc from falling into the forest, then helps him unlock his Aura, teaches him how to fight... Pyrrha is the kind of person who would single-handedly attack a foe that she has no chance of overcoming rather than endangering someone else. She is more thoughtful than Shirou and more powerful than her "twin-brother" as the same phase of the Fate/ Stay Night route. And, above all, she does not block the attack with her body, as moronic Shirou in the Saber VS Berserker clash in the F/SN route, but the result is identical. Against a Servant, be a thoughtless idealist or a skilled tactician (and Pyrrha is a genius tactician, look at the battle analysis made by Cinder and Mercury at the end of episode 5 season II of RBWY) makes little difference. What I wanted to show is that even Pyrrha Nikos, using all her talent, all her power, does not do better than Shirou. For a human (even a very strong one) a Servant is an unsurpassable wall.

Author's note: the choice of the introduction (an excerpt from "In Praise of Folly") is a clue about the identity of Servant Caster.

Ergo quoniam omnino aliquid agendu duxi, & id tempus ad feriam commetationem parum uibetatur ac comodatu, uifum eft Moriae encomi/ on ludere. Quae Pallas iftuc tibi mifit in metem inquires?

(Wanting to occupy myself at all costs, and circumstances not being suitable for serious work, I had the idea of composing by game in praise of Folly. What Pallas (another name of Athena, the Greek goddess of wisdom), would you say, put it in your head?

Erasmus of Rotterdam, In Praise of Folly

Second Day

Miyama Town, on the west bank of the Mion River, was the most traditional part of Fuyuki City. An entire district of Miyama was made up of old European-style houses.

Not far from the Tohsaka residence was a luxurious house separated from the street by a large courtyard surrounded by a wrought iron gate. A sculpted stone fountain brought forth waterfalls and several vintage cars were parked in the gravel-covered driveway.

As the sun rose over the city, a shadow jumped over the gate and ran smoothly from tree to tree before arriving at a delivery gate. Assassin had easily crossed the Bounded Field surrounding the residence... because it was his master's house. As the Servant in a long black coat touched the door, it opened quietly on a beautiful European woman in a black dress with white trim, a black full skirt, and a cute white half-apron with ruffle and ruffled headpiece. A maid in French dress...

She bowed politely:

"Lady Assassin, our lady is waiting for you."

"Thank you. But take care of my 'package' first!"

Assassin laid on the ground the package she carried on her shoulder. The fabric slipped, revealing the very pale face of a woman with short magenta hairs and a mole under her left eye.

"She's alive... but barely."

Two other maids had just arrived, one of them wearing a stretcher, while the second had a small white suitcase decorated with a red cross.

The first maid bowed slightly:

"Our Lady knows, we are taking care of the wounded immediately. Please accompany me; our Lady wants to hear your report."

Guided by the maid, Assassin traveled through long galleries. The house was as impressive inside as outside. The floor was paved with alabaster and along the walls were aligned ebony consoles adorned with mother-of-pearl and bronze supporting ivory statuettes, gold clocks, or Chinese vases. In other places, you could see master paintings.

Finally, the maid opened a door and bowed again with a gesture of invitation.
Assassin entered a... bathroom the size of a tennis court!

A woman with long blond hair was enjoying a bubble massage in a huge marble bathtub fed with water by a caryatid carrying a gold vase. Several maids were active around the beautiful young woman. One was busy painting her nails, another was massaging her shoulders, and the last one was waxing one of her legs.

Upon the arrival of her Servant, Luviagelita Edelfelt stood up:

"Welcome, Assassin. You could have shared my bath if you had arrived earlier... alas, I now have other things to do."

Cleaning her beauty mask with a damp cloth handed to her by one of the maids, she got up in her bath while two other maids wrapped her in a bathrobe. As Luvia dried her hair with a towel that another servant had brought to her on a silver platter, the rich heiress of the Edelfelt turned to Assassin, who was kneeling in the posture of a servant waiting for her queen's orders:

"Did you find Bazett in the underground church?"

"Yes, Master."

Luvia nodded twice before resumed talking:

'As always, my teacher was right. I am once again dazzled by his deductive abilities. Besides, he's so handsome with his long black hair..."

Luvia squeezed her two hands on her chest, her face suddenly taking on the ecstasy of a high school girl with a very big crush for her teacher...

Assassin shook her head... had she really seen pink hearts surrounding her Master's head?!

Luvia's face rose suddenly and she coughed in her fist to give herself an edge:

"What I meant to say is that Kirei Kotomine is a traitor! "

"Yes, Master... and he has a Servant."

Luvia nodded while sitting in front of a hairdresser, among the maids eager to comb her hair:

"We already knew it, Lancer... Cù Chulainn... since he stole him from Bazett with her command marks and... and her arm!"

Assassin shook her head:

"It wasn't just Bazett in the underground church. The crypt was filled with mummified bodies... bodies of children. According to the debris in their clothes, they haven't been here for a few months, maybe even a few years. I'm sure they died because a Servant devoured their souls. This means that Kotomine has kept a Servant alive since the Fourth Grail War by sacrificing children to him."

Luvia's expression mixed disbelief, anger, and horror. In a furious gesture, she threw away the silver brush with which she brushed her hair, scaring the maids although they were accustomed to her sudden bursts of anger:

"Children?"
"Based on their size, I'd say, children of eight to fifteen years... given the state of the bodies I can't be more precise."

"Kirei Kotomine will pay for it, I swear on the name of Luviagelita Edelfelt. I will immediately call, Lord El-Melloi II. I must inform him of your new discoveries... and then find us a way to avenge these children."
Her good mood returned, Luvia burst out laughing, hiding her mouth from the back of her hand in a very aristocratic gesture...

Under her mask, Assassin had a smile both sad and cheerful... sad because she regretted not having met someone like Luvia when she was still alive. Happy to have for Master a person still able to cry of unknown children... few Magi were as human as her.

It is said that a smart man would choose his enemies carefully.

In this case, Kirei Kotomine was a fool.

Luviagelita Edelfelt was the most aristocratic of hyenas, and as the hyena, she never let go. Faithful in friendship she was also ruthless with her enemies!

Almost at the other end of Fuyuki, tall glass buildings housed modern offices. The day was barely getting up, but already crowds of employees in suits and ties were getting off the buses to go to work.
In this atmosphere so modern, so daily, so... daily grinds... magic, the Servants, the Grail War ... all this seemed as absurd as the dreams of the night.

Yet, at the top of one of the biggest skyscraper...

The room looked like a modern laboratory. With a dazzling whiteness and cleanliness, the room had the shape of an octagon. Steel and plastic machines full of dials, buttons, and knobs lined up against the walls, light-emitting diode panels were flashing, computers made the air vibrate.

"Ahahahhaha is a... These poor Clocktower fools were so proud of their lineages, their Magecraft, and their Magic Crest... so blind to the power of technology. Only I, Atrum Galliastra, understood the power of technology. A ritual of this magnitude would take hours... but for me, it would be performed in seconds using computers."

The man who has been standing in the center of the room and chatting with a look of excitement on his face was a half European half Middle Easterner dressed in black pants, white shirt, and black jacket. His skin was sun-kissed, but his hair was long and blond with a mat falling on his shoulder. The many bracelets and necklaces he wore were as much Mystic Code of mediocre quality.

Everything about him was of poor quality, his Magic Circuits, his personality, his tastes... but Atrum Galliastra thought he was a genius and he had the money to allow him to achieve any of his whims.

This was, in any case, the opinion of the Servant who was the witness of the boasting of the Magus.

Caster tried to breathe calmly, but his fingers trembled with anger. Images of his past came to haunt him as he watched his Master...

All his life Caster had traveled the roads of Holland, Germany, and Switzerland, living as a beggar to help his fellow men. He had entered the legend as Magus, one of the greatest alchemists of all time, one of the greatest theorists of elemental magic, a master of angelic magic... But he himself regarded himself first as a simple doctor. He had fled from the honors, wealth, and arrogant men who believed themselves to be masters of nature.

Why my God... why did you let a man like Galliastra summon me?

This Magus represented everything Caster had fought in his lifetime, a man of iron and cogs, trampling lives and spreading misery around him to satisfy a haunting need of power and fame.

Caster straightened himself to strike down his Master with a look of pure contempt:

"Had you listened to me, you would have understood that all these machines are pale parodies of the divine reign of nature set in order by the Most High. The alchemist is not God. He submits to nature he venerates and respects the holy sacraments. Ora, Lege, relege, labora et Invenies (1). You are a foolish sophistic Blower(2), who exploits only the practical aspect of alchemy. Moreover, I cannot bear that your vile practices sacrifice children. Do you know no shame? Is there no place in your soul for human feelings? Do... "

"I order you to shut up, Caster!"

As Galliastra raised his left hand in a threatening gesture, one could clearly see that one of his Marks of Command had taken on a grayed-out aspect. Caster interrupted, but his sarcastic smile became more pronounced:

"Oh, you're already using threats, Master? Don't you know that violence is the answer of those who don't have an answer? So what are you going to do? Use another Command Mark to silence me, after foolishly wasting one to force me to kidnap children? Honestly, I'm too smart to imagine in what realm of deep stupidity your mind has gone astray. You take the shortest road to defeat, Master."
"Shut the fuck up!"

But Caster continued to harass his Master, anger took away all inhibition:

"Finally, your road leads straight to the abyss. Another Master intervened yesterday! You must understand that continuing to abduct children will make you the primary target of all other Masters. If pity does not keep you from resorting to filthy means, the reason should at least tell you that..."
But Galliastra cut Caster off:

"The Master who dared to intervene in my plans is dead, right? That's what you said."

"Yes, Master."

The Magus had a cruel laugh:

"And killed by Archer... ironic, right?

Caster bowed slightly:

"As you said, Master. No normal human could survive with a hole of this size in the chest."
Taking this answer as an acceptance of his authority, Atruma Galliastra found his smile again:

"Let these poor fools kill each other while I strengthen my power."

He beckoned to his minions, men looking like bodyguards in dark suits and black glasses. They brought in eight children and placed them in glass cylinders.

"Master" intervened once again Caster, "don't do that... I know many methods to make you more powerful. I do..."

"I am the Master. I give orders, you obey. Go away!"

"Yes, Master"

Caster bowed slightly and left the room, he was pale with rage. When the children began to cry out of terror and pain, the Servant leaned with one hand against the wall. A wave of light illuminated the passage... and the cries went out. All the children had literally been digested by the machines of Galliastra, transformed into Mana's crystal.

All those lives suddenly destroyed by a madman...

Caster bit his lips and went to his laboratory.

The place looked nothing like the room full of machines he had just left. There was the greatest disorder, strange objects, books, papers covered with annotations were bordered with copper distillers, athanors, and horns. The smell of chemicals, ether and ammoniac was intoxicating.

He seized a glass globe filled with a milky liquid in which floated a filthy homunculus like a wrinkled baby:
"Show me Saber's Master."

The monstrous creature obeyed its creator and an image appeared in the air. Pyrrha Nikos lay in her bed, bathed in the light that slid between the shutters. Caster had a slight smile. His fool Master, so sure of himself, had not even tried to confirm Pyrrha's death... and Caster saw no reason to reveal that she had survived. After all, unless this Galliastra monster expressly ordered him to do so, Caster was determined to do as little as possible. And then... seeing the golden light that healed the wounds of the young Master, the brilliant alchemist had understood that he had found what he had sought all his life, the very reason for his participation in the Grail War.

"Panacea," he murmured.

Some alchemists were looking for the Lapis Philosophicus, the philosopher's stone, the way to turn lead into gold... But Caster had devoted all his talent to the search for the cure that could heal all wounds, all diseases. If Pyrrha Emiya possessed such power, Caster had no reason to participate in the Grail War... and therefore to help Galliastra.

Arthur Pendragon looked at the forest that lay around him, a green ocean caressed by the wind. Hearing a noise, he turned around.

Pyrrha Nikos had just spread a bush. Clothed in her armor, she walked between the trees, looking around her, her sword in one hand, her shield in the other. Just behind her, a young man was following her. He seemed much less sure. He was dressed in worn armor. His hair was blond, his eyes very blue. He had a sword on his belt.

As a thunderbolt tore the silence of the forest, the teenager gasped:

"Did you hear that?"

Pyrrha turned her head before answering with a calm voice:

"Gunfire. Someone must have encountered enemies."

As she resumed her march, Pyrrha pushed back a branch... which came back like a whip, to hit the young blond man in the face. The Amazon Girl turned around as her friend fell:

"Jaune I'm sorry."

Massaging his face Jaune rose up:

"I'm totally fine. Just a scratch."

As the redhead Amazon approached Jaune, she frowned, astonished:

"Did you not activate your Aura?"

"What?"
"Your Aura."

Jaune wasn't the only one who looked at Pyrrha with a surprised look. Conscious of living memory of his Master thanks to the link that united him to the Amazon, Saber had watched the scene and listened to the conversation. And he, too, had never heard of Aura.

As Pyrrha began to explain what Aura was, his trouble became more pronounced.

"Aura is the manifestation of the soul. It bears our pain and protects our hearts."

Jaune's questions diverted the conversation a little to the "monsters with no soul" "Grimm's creations" "manifestation of nothingness".

The Pyrrha who spoke to Jaune was identical to the one Arthur had just met, she even wore the same armor. It must have been a recent memory, yet nothing she said made sense to Saber. Normally, the Grail gave the Servant all the knowledge necessary to integrate himself to the era wherein he was invoked. But "Aura" and "Grimm's creations" were definitively not included in Arthur's artificial memory.

Arthur saw Pyrrha and Jaune enter a cave... and come out even faster. Jaune was hanging from the dart of a black giant scorpion except for a few parts of its exoskeleton that were white with red lines that seemed to have been painted.

Jaune shouted:

"Stop! Pyrrha!"
The Redhead Amazon running in front of the monster turned and she folded back upon herself Miló transformed into a javelin. But the monster projected Jaune far away... and he disappeared over trees.

Pyrrha followed his path with the gaze:

"He's gone!"

Then turned around... gazing at the huge monster whose claws were snapping right in front of her. The Spartan Girl suddenly showed an awkward smile, massaged the back of her skull... and fled as fast as she could, dodging the claws and the attacks of the scorpion's dart that smashed the trees. While the monster's mass overthrew all the obstacles with the power of a bulldozer launched at full speed.

Arthur was present only spiritually, he could only watch the scene without being able to intervene, without even being able to feel the energy of Pyrrha's enemies. However, the scorpion left him an abnormal impression... as if this "creature of Grimm" should not have existed... or rather as if it did not really exist. What had Pyrrha said? "Manifestation of nothingness". Yes... it was the impression that these monsters left.

[Because you think Grimms are the main anomaly?]

Arthur startled by "hearing" Blaise's mental voice. She laughed:

[I'm a half-succubus. Entering mortal dreams is part of the rudiments of the profession. But look up instead.]
Mechanically, the king of Britain obeyed. The giant scorpion cave was dug on the side of a cliff. The trees of the forest did not grow directly under the natural wall. As he looked up, Arthur discovered the blue sky, a few white clouds, the sun shining peacefully, and the moon...

...

—or what was left of the moon. A good quarter was floating in the form of debris.

[Pyrrha Nikos does not come from Earth. I think you have the most interesting Master of this Grail War. ]

Arthur opened his eyes.

He sat with his back to a wall, a few steps from Pyrrha, still asleep on her futon. He looked at the face of the young red-haired Spartan Girl. Her features were peaceful, even if the complexion remained pale... well, it was rather difficult to say, Pyrrha had skin almost as white as ivory. At least his Master didn't seem to suffer anymore.

Arthur unconsciously clenched fists as his memory replayed the scene where the young woman's chest exploded pierced by an arrow shaped like a corkscrew... Anger and horror invaded him. He no longer really knew who he was really angry with... Archer? Although the chivalrous code forbade the Knight of the Silver Sky from attacking an enemy unconscious of his presence, King Arthur could not blame the Servant of the Bow for attacking from distance. After all, it was his role in the Grail War!

Perhaps he was especially angry with Pyrrha. The scene where she collapsed in his arms in the midst of an explosion of blood was constantly replaying in his mind, refusing to leave him in peace, making him relive his horrified disbelief. As a knight, Arthur could not bear the thought of a woman risking his life to protect him. It insulted his honor, it makes him feel bad, like a failure of a knight... and besides, it was not the role of a woman to fight!

He laid his hand on the forehead of his Master. The fever had practically disappeared.

How could she still be alive?

She must have had a powerful healing power or perhaps a Noble Phantasm who was healing her wounds. Not only had Pyrrha not died instantly despite the horrible injury she had received, but almost all traces of the injury had disappeared by the time he brought her home.

Rising up, Saber picked up the basin of water and the damp cloth which had been used to wipe the front of the Amazon Girl. He hesitated and Blaise intervened:

[You should go make something to eat. Pyrrha will soon wake up. She's gone from coma to deep sleep and will soon start dreaming. I'll follow her in.]

[Well] King Arthur agreed.

In fact, leaving Pyrrha's room suited Saber. He had a lot to think about. His Master had involuntarily shared her memories of the initiation ceremony at Beacon, especially the fight against the Death Stalker in Emerald Forest.

And then...

Arthur loved to cook. It had always been a way for him to relieve stress.

The feeling was strange.

Pyrrha stood in the middle of a plain of green grass. The wind blew a few white clouds into a blue sky and caressed the grass to the horizon.

Yet Pyrrha did not feel the wind on her skin, nor the rays of the sun. In fact, she was bathed in a feeling of unreality.

She must have been dreaming.

As she turned around, the Spartan Girl realized that she was not alone. She discovered a medieval wall and behind church steeples, a castle, a whole city. She was separated by a camp of round tents preceded by poles where kite shield decorated with the coat of arms of the residents hung. Of servants and knights in armor came and went, some held by the bridle of the caparisoned steeds, others wore jousts' lances. Hearing a trumpet bell, Pyrrha turned to a jousting ground separated by lice, two knights threw themselves against each other. From the mob came shouts of encouragement.

Under canopies decorated with coat-of-arms, on the chairs and thrones, a crowd of noble lords surrounded by their vassals attended the tournament. This was to be an important event as many of the spectators wore royal crowns.

"I ask you once again to rethink your decision, young Arthur. If you draw this sword, you will never again be human."

Pyrrha turned around, surprised to hear a voice so close to her.

In fact, two people were standing by her from the beginning.

First, there was a young man dressed very simply in a tunic fastened to the belt and with short breeches that only went down to his ankles. The fabric was unbleached, not dyed.

The man must have been a little younger than her, his hair was blond, his eyes green. She recognized him immediately... Saber!

In front of him was a woman sitting on a rock. She was wrapped in a long cloak as white as snow. The hood was folded up and Pyrrha could only see her lip and jawline. Between her arms, the woman, or rather the Magus, held a large black wand adorned with a large ruby and several strips of fabric of all the colors of the rainbow. She was the one who just spoke.

They were separated by a large rectangular stone block surrounded by a few steps. In its middle was planted a bastard sword with the pommel, handle, and guard mixing blue lacquer and gold. The base of the royal blade was also adorned with two inlaid rubies and a few letters of unknown writing could be seen.

Saber did not take the time to think. He had his own questions:

"Will people be safe? Will they be able to live? Build houses, raise their families? Laugh?"

The Magus slowly nodded to each of these questions. Without any hesitation, Saber laid his hand on the guard of the splendid sword and drew it slowly. Pyrrha heard the scraping of the steel on the stone. Effortlessly, with one hand, Saber took it out of the rock and brandished it. The stunning blade began to radiate a pure golden light and the bond knight smiled:

"Then I would carry all the weight of the Isle of Britain for them. For as long as they smile, I would be happy."
Pyrrha felt uncomfortable, having the impression of spying on an important memory of Saber. But the rest surprised her more. The Magus dressed in white suddenly rose up, dusting the bottom of her dress before advancing towards her. The woman's smile was accentuated:

"And you, Pyrrha Nikos? If you had been in Saber's place, would you have taken the Sword of the Selection out of its stone scabbard?"

The Invincible Girl startled, suddenly aware that a character in the dream was aware of her presence... then she suddenly understood:

"Blaise?"
"Yes, who is asking for her?! Finally, given what has just been revealed to you, you should perhaps call me by my real name. I am Merlin."

Pyrrha felt lost for a moment. Why Blaise... well Merlin thought that there was no more reason to hide her true identity. Uh... Merlin?... Merlin? Why did the name sound familiar? Arthur? The Sword of Selection? Britain?

The sudden realization of which was Saber hit her with the "softness" of a mass of cast iron released from the fifteenth floor.

She had spent ten years on Earth, enough time for Hollywood to release two films, three series, not to mention several Japanese anime and mangas all devoted to the Arthurian legend.

Pyrrha held out a finger to Saber, who had remained as if statued still brandishing the luminous sword:
"King Arthur?" Even to Pyrrha's ears, her voice seemed as high-pitched as a little girl in awe who had just met Santa Claus.

Merlin laughed out loud:

"One hundred points for Griffindor!"

Merlin threw a full handful of confetti and strips of colored cloth at the Invincible Girl while striking a foghorn.

"Any inhabitant of this world would have understood in five seconds... you had to think a good minute. I mean, I guess that's normal..." Merlin's smile became mocking "at least if you're not born on Earth. Isn't that right, Pyrrha Nikos quadruple champion of the Mistral's tournament? "

(1) Pray, read, reread, work and you will find (alchemical motto).

(2) There are two types of alchemists. The operating alchemists (known as the Dry Way) try to transform lead into gold... to enrich themselves. For speculative alchemists, the goal of alchemy is spiritual development (the Wet Way). Their goal is to transform their lead soul into a gold soul... and also Ignis Natura Renovatur Integra (to ignite nature to completely renovate it), that is to say to resurrected the world into an earthly paradise. "Blower" is a derogatory term used by alchemists of the Wet Way to speak of alchemists of the Dry Way.