Original Archive of Our Own Posting Date: September 28, 2020
For the first time since we arrived, I slept peacefully that night. No dreams or haunting memories, only blissful slumber. When I awoke, I felt ready, ready for the daunting task we were about to embark upon: attacking Orléans.
Nearby, I saw that Ritsuka was also waking up. "Good morning Rits," I said softly, getting a sleepy 'hi' in response from my fellow Master. I stood up and stretched, seeing that our Servants were getting ready as well.
There was a mixture of emotions in the air. Excitement, fear, nervousness, determination.
And why shouldn't there be? After all, we were about to embark on the final leg of our journey. One that we must ensure ended in victory, no matter the cost.
Breakfast was quiet, and a part of me felt like it was like a last supper. In a way, I suppose, it was, at least for some of us. Whether we won or lost, Jeanne and the others whom we had met on this journey would return to the Throne of Heroes at the end of this day. It was a sobering thought, though there was still a chance that some or even all of them could be summoned back at Chaldea, and preferably with the memories of these past few days, too. An hour later, and Ritsuka, Mash, and I were packing up our small campsite, our breakfast finished.
Another visit to the town's mayor had seen him outfitting our party with horses after I explained how we needed to get to Orléans quickly, as we had the only way to fix everything. The clear desperation in the man's eyes was heartrending, even if it allowed for us to gain a faster method of transportation that wouldn't exhaust our Servants before our inevitable battle with Jeanne Alter and the forces she could muster.
Thirty minutes later, and we were all saddled up. On the walls were throngs of citizens of Thiers, cheering and waving at us. Apparently, the mayor had spread word about what I had told him, and the locals wanted to wish their 'heroes' off. Ritsuka and Mash looked the most uncomfortable with the attention, while Elisabeth seemed to relish in it. I cleared my throat, gaining everyone's attention.
"Today, we march on Orléans. I can think of no finer colleagues to fight alongside. We fight for not the Holy Grail, but for humanity's survival," I said, trying to be as charismatic as I could be. After all, the stories all told of a speech before the final battle, didn't they? "Do your duties, and look after one another. To victory!" The others repeated the claim, minus for the quieter Servants, like Medea, or more battle-hardened Servants, such as Jeanne, Chulainn, and Mordred. Though, as always, the latter had an excited gleam. Well, she's always going on about wanting to have a challenge.
Who am I to deny my Servant such a simple desire?
"Forward!" I said, and the crowd watching us roared louder as we spurred our mounts forward, making all due haste to the lair of the Dragon Witch.
The first two hours were quiet. Too quiet. The enemy must know of our movements, not that it could have been helped. But still, what choice did we have but to push forward? I will admit, however, that it was a welcome release when I heard an irritatingly familiar roar far above us. I gripped my sword briefly, but didn't draw it, instead pointing skywards, shouting to grab the attention of the others.
"Here they come! Take them down!" I roared, sweeping my hand before the diving squadron of wyverns. Taking bold actions, I raised my other hand and began to fire bursts of Gandr, an action I was copying from my fellow Master the previous day and who was repeating it. The two Casters of our group added to the improvised AA fire, and in those opening moments, several wyverns fell towards the ground, their wings cut or severed.
Still a dozen and a half or so wyverns were almost upon us. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Sasaki stand up onto the back of his horse, his sword gripped tightly as he assumed the posture that indicated that he was about to unleash his Noble Phantasm. Sure enough, a wyvern unfortunate enough to have moved into his range was carved up into three bloody slices.
Towards the rear, Chulainn adjusted his grip on Gàe Bolg, moving the seven-blade spear into an overhand position before throwing it at a wyvern. The cursed weapon pierced the scaley breast of the beast, and its dying bloody tumbled over the ground. The Lancer deftly picked up his weapon from the dissolving corpse as he urged his mount past it, his red eyes already searching for his next target.
Another wyvern swooped down at me, but before it could attack me, the blade of a large broadsword whistled through the air near me, and the wyvern's head was parted from its now-twitching body. "Thanks," I said to Mordred, who nodded back at me, her eyes gleaming hungrily as they typically did in battle.
Before long, the enemy squadron was eliminated. The only things moving in the flat field we were in being our group. Still, the hairs on the back of my neck were still standing, the first clue that something was wrong. The second was a series of high-pitched whistling noises slowly growing louder. My eyes widened as I looked ahead and skywards.
"Incoming! Take cover!" I shouted as dozens of arrows began their final approach, having reached the apex of their flight. Jeanne leapt off of her horse, holding her furled flagpole aloft.
"Oh flag of mine, protect our comrades," she began to say as the arrows drew closer. Warm golden light began to appear around the fabric as the banner unfurled. "Luminosité Eternelle!"
She had finished deploying her Noble Phantasm not a moment too soon, for seconds later the hail of arrows struck. Before I could finish blinking, the ground surrounding our group was covered with arrows, but not a single one had struck us. Despite a somewhat strained look marring her expression, the saint maintained her Noble Phantasm as we looked around frantically.
"Did anyone see who did that?" Ritsuka called out as we grouped up, our Servants dismounting. I tried to follow, but Mordred stared at me, and I could feel her glare behind her horned helmet. I nodded my surrender in silence and she returned the gesture, standing close by.
Thankfully, we didn't have to wait long for our attacker to reveal themselves.
"RULER!"
The shouter was a woman in an intricately-designed green dress. Her hair was an unusual mixture of greenish-blue in the front and blonde, and at the top poked out what appeared to be two ears like the ones of a lion. A lion's tail trailed behind her. She carried a bow, an arrow already notched and the bowstring drawn. Her green eyes bore into Jeanne d'Arc, who was unable to move as she was still deploying her protective Noble Phantasm.
"MONSTER! MURDERER! DIE!" The Servant howled. So, I had three things to go off of right now: She was an Archer, she had been given the Berserker trait, and she had a hate-boner for Jeanne d'Arc apparently. "I'LL KILL YOU FOR WHAT YOU DID!"
Yep, definitely getting from Berserker Archer a strong feeling of hatred towards our French comrade.
"What the hell, this really is a Greater Holy Grail War reunion!" Mordred groused. I grunted at my Servant.
"Another old colleague?"
"Mhm. She was Archer of Red. My…teammate. I didn't learn what her True Name is," Mordred said quickly as Berserker Archer prepared to fire another rapid volley of arrows. "Nor the reason why she's going after Ruler," she added before I could ask.
"Damn it! She's certainly living up to her class then! Anything else about her that you can share?" I asked a bit gruffly as more arrows impacted against the invisible barrier Jeanne had given.
"Yeah, don't get shot," the Knight of Rebellion responded dryly. I gritted my teeth but didn't snap at her. Honestly, we were stuck as it were. Berserker Archer had a range advantage, and if Mordred's advice was anything to go with, her Noble Phantasm was probably some sort of crazy 'area of effect' type.
"Not coming up with any good plans here," Ritsuka said warningly to me. I growled in agreement, biting my lower lip when suddenly, to my surprise, the rain of arrows had stopped. She couldn't possibly have run out of arrows, not for a Servant.
"Gah! Damn you! If you won't die to my arrows, then I'll rip your throat out!" The crazed and bloodthirsty Archer roared, leaping forward. A dozen more wyverns had appeared by now with the apparent intent of assisting the Servant against us. Well, this was still problematic, but at least we had a better advantage now.
"Siegfried, Georgios, Sasaki! Bring those beasts down. Mordred, go protect Jeanne! Elisabeth, Amadeus, stay back in reserve," I barked out my instructions.
"Mash, please assist Mordred. Chulainn, stay back for now. Medea, Kiyohime, assist the others," Ritsuka said immediately after me. Our Servants sprang into action. "I'll keep an eye on the wyverns, you go focus on watching the others defeat Berserker Archer," my fellow Master offered. I nodded graciously before looking just in time to see Berserker Archer skid to the side, courtesy of Mordred's slamming of Clarent's cross-guard into the side of her face.
Berserker Archer recovered quickly, however, and lunged at Mordred, gripping the bottom section of her bow with the apparent intent of using it as a club. She swings it but Mordred easily blocks it with Clarent.
Mash came charging in from the side next, slamming her massive shield into the maddened Servant's side. She quickly recovered, however, with a feral snarl she lashed out at Mash. Ritsuka's Demi-Servant barely managed to deflect the strike with her shield before Berserker Archer suddenly changed tactics, swinging her bow low, knocking Mash off her feet. The Shielder cried out in alarm as her back hit the grass beneath her, Berserker Archer glaring down at her.
Mordred came charging in next, intent on bisecting the troublesome Servant at best, or at the very least, force her to switch her attention away from the prone Demi-Servant at her feet. In a blur of motion, Berserker Archer lashed out with her foot, hitting Mordred hard in her midriff and sending the Saber skidding several yards away before she lost her balance and tumbled a few yards more.
However, Berserker Archer didn't follow up with attacks on either of the two girls, instead still glaring murderously at Jeanne. As the Maid of Orléans began to break off her deployment of her Noble Phantasm, the Archer was within her guard, delivering a strike with the tip of her bow to the Ruler's midriff. The force of the blow caused the Ruler to bend over, wide-eyed, before a hand grabbed her by the throat, holding the now-thrashing Servant off the ground as she fought for air.
"Ruler!" Mordred exclaimed angrily, trying to regain her bearings.
"Now die, Ruler!" Berserker Archer roared as she threw Jeanne to the ground before swiftly notching an arrow and pointing it at the Ruler's heart.
"Jeanne!" I cried in alarm, and Mordred pushed herself back up onto her feet, running forward as fast as she can. She wasn't going to make it…
"Chulainn! Now!" Ritsuka called out next to me. The Irish Lancer looked over at his Master briefly, nodding, a wild glint in his eyes before he locked his gaze onto Berserker Archer.
"Your heart is mine! Gàe—" Chulainn turned into a blur of blue, silver, and red, dashing past us as cold red energy pulsed menacingly from his spear. The next moment I could see him properly, he was within Berserker Archer's guard. Her eyes widened, and even in her state of madness she had recognized the danger.
Too late.
"BOLG!" A horrid, wet squishing sound could be heard as Ireland's Child of Light impaled Mordred's former teammate. The Archer gasped in pain, a line of blood drippling out of the corner of her mouth as Ritsuka's Lancer withdrew the cursed spear that had pierced her heart.
"….thank…you," She whispered, the hold of madness Jeanne Alter had afflicted her with now broken. She closed her eyes and faded away without another word. Meanwhile, Mordred helped Jeanne back onto her feet, the latter rubbing her throat with a wince.
"You okay over there, Jeanne?" I called out. The Ruler looked at me with a soft smile.
"Yes, Master, I am fine. She just caught me off-guard," she explained a bit sheepishly. I nodded, forcing my shoulders to relax as best I could before speaking into my commlink.
"Doctor Roman, what are your scanners telling us now?" I asked, unwilling to relax despite our victory.
"At least several Servant readings and one ultra-sized lifeform are waiting just a few miles ahead," the acting-director of Chaldea reported to us dutifully. I looked at the others, noticing the unanimous display of resolve. This was one of the things that it meant to be a Hero. To face long odds with steel in their soul, and sword and spear and bow in hand.
"Well, let's not keep them waiting for us, huh?" I said, forcing a grin on my face despite my anxiety over what was to come. Everyone else had dismounted from their horses, unwilling to risk the faithful steads to dragon fire. When Ritsuka and I began to do the same, however, we were stopped and told that it would be better for us to remain mounted so we could keep up with the others without having to use prana. With no further words needed to be said, we began moving closer and closer to Orléans.
Fifteen minutes later, we stood before Orléans. The ground was barren, scorched to the earth with dragon fire. Blackened bones and broken weapons were scattered everywhere, the signs of the destruction Jeanne Alter had rendered upon the city and its surrounding areas. It was like a chapter straight out of a fantasy novel. Of the heroes facing off against an army of evil. An irony that wasn't lost on me as I gazed up at the host before us.
The air was filled with hundreds upon hundreds of wyverns of various sizes and colors. Red, green, and black. They hovered, their orange eyes gazing hungrily at us, but they didn't move forward. Nor was our attention truly focused on them, numerous though they were.
No, we gazed at the massive black dragon we had encountered only a few days earlier. Fafnir, the Evil Dragon. And before him stood a familiar figure, her flagstaff firmly planted into the ground, its banner unfurled and fluttering in the wind, displaying a stylized depiction of a dragon.
"Hello, trash I left behind," Jeanne d'Arc, the Dragon Witch, said, leering at Jeanne d'Arc, the Maid of Orléans. For once, the words of the fallen Ruler did not affect my temporary Servant, who instead looked the other 'her' directly into her yellow eyes.
"No, I am a vestige," Jeanne corrected. "Most importantly, I'm not you, Dragon Witch."
"But you are me. What are you talking about?"
Jeanne sighed at her alternate self's words, a look of sadness and pity in her eyes. "No matter what I say, I can no longer reach you." She gazed intensely at our foe, slamming her own weapon into the ground as a proclamation of her resolve. "After this battle is over, I'm going to give you an earful!"
"Silence!" Jeanne Alter roared, spreading out her arms to gesture at the mass of creatures behind her. "Behold these dragons! Behold this horde of dragons!" As if to emphasize this fact, Fafnir looked upwards and released an earth-shaking roar. "We have turned this nation into a nest of dragons! They will devour everything, and nothing will eve live in France again! Then this world will be complete. Then this world will be destroyed. The dragons will fight one another for eternity. Endless war. Endless death. Endless devouring…That will be the true Hundred Years' War: A Hundred Years War of Evil Dragons!"
"Fire!"
Suddenly, a wave of booms came from nearby, as well as thudding sounds as balls of stone and fire began to rain down onto the horde.
"What?!" The Dragon Witch roared angrily.
"Gilles!" Jeanne said excitedly at the same time. Sure enough, the dark-haired man in silvery-green armor from a few days ago was there. The rallied remnants of the French army were at his back.
"Fire again! We fight for the survival of France! Fire everything we have! Fire, fire!" The general roared, as his gunners made ready their primitive cannons to fire another salvo. Further back, catapults and the odd trebuchet were also being prepared to fire.
"Do not be afraid! Do not sorrow! Do not falter! If you have human blood, now is the time to die! I will say it again! There is nothing to fear! For we—" Gilles continued, waving his sword as he looked towards us. Or rather, towards a certain blonde saint. "For we have the Saint on our side!" Apparently, Jeanne's old friend and brother-in-arms had been busy trying to rehabilitate the Ruler's status, for his soldiers and knights all gave out mighty battle cries. More projectiles were launched, and the close-formation of wyverns began to suffer horrendous casualties even as they began to move towards the larger group in response.
"….Gilles!" Jeanne said happily, her cheeks a soft rosy pink. The fact that there were countrymen no longer cursing her must have been heavenly for her, not matter how much she had said the judgement she had encountered hadn't affected her. It seems that she had thought upon the words I had spoken to her about Gilles. Jeanne Alter glowered at both the general and her counterpart.
"Hmph," she huffed angrily, "such stubborn belief. It makes me want to vomit. Fafnir!" The dragon roared upon the Dragon Witch's calling of its name. Jeanne Alter stepped to the side as she pointed her flagpole at Jeanne. "Incinerate that Saint, that army, this nation! Burn them, burn them all! Burn everything to the ground!"
Siegfried stepped forward, his sword held before him. His eyes stared into the eyes of the advancing black dragon. "Hah. I never thought I'd see you for a third time. Perhaps, in another time or world, we could've been connected in another way…Fafnir! I am here, wicked dragon! I, Siegfried, am right here! Once again you shall taste my blade. This, I swear by my righteousness, and by all my beliefs!"
"Damn it! Come forth my Servants!" Jeanne Alter commanded. I recognized the three who answered her call. Berserker Saber, Berserker Lancer, and Sanson. The Assassin looked almost mindless, but was glaring murderously at Amadeus, who gladly returned the favor. Without a word, the two broke off from their respective groups, and prepared to settle the score between them over a certain French Rider. Of Berserker Assassin, there was no sight of her.
"Hey, you guys, good to see you're doing well!" Berserker Saber said with good cheer, beaming at us with a wide, almost unsettling quite frankly, smile on their face. "I am Chevalier d'Eon. This time I lend my blade to evil, but it remains as pure as ever. Now, fight me with all you have! End this nightmare!" d'Eon implored us, taking up a fencing posture.
"So, you came, huh? There's no shame in becoming fallen," Vlad said in his rich baritone. "Defeat is the greatest shame of all. I've become a mere puppet in the search for the Grail. I am praised as the immortal vampire," Berserker Lancer admitted with disgust thick in his cultured voice. "Fiction or not, it is all I have left," he added bitterly.
"Masters, they're coming! The French army is holding off the wyverns!" Mash reported. "This is it!"
"Let's do it, Mash!" Ritsuka said.
"No finer words have ever been spoken at the start of such a battle! Siegfried, Georgios, Sasaki! Focus on Fafnir, hold nothing back! Elisabeth, Kiyohime, take out Berserker Saber!"
"Understood!"
"So be it."
"You got it, Puppy!"
"For my Love."
I then turned to Mordred. "Ready to finish what you started with Vlad back at La Charité?" I asked the Knight of Rebellion. Though her helmet covered her features, I could almost feel her excitement.
"Absolutely," she said with feral savagery, bracing her body before she began launching attacks.
"Then let's do this!" I said, and almost in unison the Servants of Ritsuka and I sprang forward, weapons at the ready as they launched themselves at their designated opponents, who copied their actions.
With that, the Battle of Orléans, the outcome of which would decide the fate of humanity, began.
Original A/N: And done! Next chapter is going to be a bit of a headache for me to type, at least until good ole Siegfried strikes down Fafnir! So what did you guys think? Good chapter, I hope? Sorry, just been worried that my writing skills have been going down and I wanna make sure that I am killing the enjoyment compared to earlier chapters lol. Probably just my own imagination. On a side note, I have now broken my record for a longest story, so that feels great! Now, sadly, I couldn't get as much as I would have wanted out of the fight between Berserker Archer (AKA Atalante) and Jeanne d'Arc as I was planning due to the lack of proper terrain to be used considering that she had a lot of range capabilities. Thankfully, this won't be the last time that these two foes from Fate/Apocrypha will meet. Now, for the question(s) of the day: What do you think was the least enjoyable event on FGO so far? Also, does anyone else think that Artoria Lancer and Artoria Lancer Alter, lookwise, feels a bit too much? Was talking with my sister about how she was designed and she pointed out how it looks a bit too much ya know? As always, thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoy it! Looking forward to reading comments, feedback, and all that lovely stuff, and see you next time!