Chapter 16: The Rage of War (Part 2)

Emiya Kiritsugu focused on the bigger picture. He kept his sights trained on the different players spread across the board. He was fully intent on keeping to the shadows for as long as he could. As bad as things looked, nothing would be worse than for him to recklessly reveal his position. With four Servants duking it out, any Master foolish enough to enter the fray haphazardly was asking to be surrounded from all sides.

"Maiya, keep your sight focused on Rider and Caster. They're merely observing at present, but that can change the moment one of the Servants show any sign of weakness," Kiritsugu whispered to his subordinate through his comm.

On the other side of the harbor, across from where Kiritsugu hid, a woman dressed in all black clothes whispered, "Roger that." She wasted no time and did as she was instructed, aiming her sniper rifle at Caster's head.

The woman's name was Hisau Maiya. She was Emiya Kiritsugu's sole subordinate, disciple, and personal assistant. As someone Kiritsugu had personally taken under his wing, she was a woman who walked the same path as he did. Ruthlessly efficient and a stone-hearted killer, that's what Hisau Maiya was.

So even without Kiritsugu spelling it out for her, Maiya could understand Kiritsugu's train of thought. When one of the Servants in combat had either won or were on the verge of losing, Caster or Rider might intervene to snatch the kill. Granted, Rider didn't seem the type to do something dishonorable, but Caster was a definite wild card.

Both Maiya and Kiritsugu had faced off against mages countless times before in their line of work. So, they were fully aware that for a magus like Caster, there was no line that could not be crossed. He was someone that needed delicate attention.

Ever since he revealed himself, Caster had asserted a dominance. He had named Archer when no one else could. He outed Assassin whose presence had eluded the other Servants. And he had orchestrated a series of events of that left every other Servant besides him to be locked in combat. He demonstrated a frightening degree of control in dictating the terms of the war. His magecraft and True Name were most likely something to be wary of.

But neither Kiritsugu nor Maiya truly had much to fear in the way of mages. Emiya Kiritsugu was appended the title of Magus Killer for a reason. His methods and magecraft were meticulously engineered towards systematically annihilating mages. So, Maiya was confident that Caster, while being a deadly enemy, would fall like the rest.

But just as she contemplated the possible measures to be taken for Caster, Maiya clicked her tongue.

Kiritsugu heard the clicking sound over the comms. His eyes narrowed. Maiya should've know better than to make any noise needlessly. "What's wrong?" he asked with a hushed voice.

"It was only for a second, but I'm sure Caster's gaze just turned my way. It's possible he already knows my position," Maiya muttered under her breath in irritation.

Kiritsugu furrowed his brows. Caster's presence detection was truly better than they had initially anticipated. If he could sniff Assassin out, then he could no doubt tell where Maiya was. He might even know of Kiritsugu's own presence.

But still, the fact was that Caster had only glanced at Maiya's direction briefly. His full attention was paid to the rest of the Servants fighting. This fact alone worked in Kiritsugu's favor very much. It showed that Caster, like all the other mages Kiritsugu had killed before, was prone to arrogance.

Kiritsugu didn't know if Caster actually had the strength to back up such a lofty arrogance, but the very presence of it was a potential weakness they could exploit in the future.

"Maiya, stay on standby, but be ready to move out. Caster doesn't seem interested dealing with us for now," Kiritsugu said without blinking. He knew he was gambling his and Maiya's lives on the benevolence and carelessness of a Servant they knew nothing about. But he felt the risk worth it. It was a gut feeling.

Besides, Kiritsugu hadn't come all the way to Japan to play it safe. He'd come for the Holy Grail. One last-ditch effort to achieve his childhood dream. He had come prepared to risk it all. Even if it should mean the death of Maiya or his wife and child, Emiya Kiritsugu would not flinch. That's what he swore to himself when he accepted to be the Master of Saber.

"Stick to the plan. If Saber can't take Lancer out, then I'll eliminate Lancer's Master," Kiritsugu repeated over the comms. He had the perfect vantage spot to kill the Clock Tower Lord as soon as he stepped into the harbor.

Now then, my cute little King of Knights, is this as far you can go? Show me. How will your knighthood prevail in this Holy Grail War?

Right now, Kiritsugu was letting Saber fight as she wished, playing chivalry with her new knight friend. But should any there be any sign of her certain defeat, then Kiritsugu would take over whether she liked it or not.

Tohsaka Tokiomi shook his head for the fourth time now. He didn't understand how fast things had escalated. Granted, a little accident here and there was par of the course for anything magecraft-related, much more for a grand ritual like a Holy Grail War. But still, the present situation went beyond his wildest expectations.

Tokiomi was the kind of man who prided himself with an astounding level of control over his surroundings. Every aspect of his life had been meticulously fine-tuned to work the way he wanted it to, from the crisp ruby red suit he wore to the state of affairs of the whole Tohsaka estate. The Holy Grail War was to be just another check mark in his portfolio as the perfect magus.

But somehow, what had simply been a mere reconnaissance operation had devolved into three simultaneous one-on-one Servant fights. Two participants of which happened to be his Apprentice Kirei's and his own Servants, Assassin and Archer.

Tokiomi was flummoxed. How did that happen? Where had he gone wrong? Shouldn't Assassin's Presence Concealment have been flawless?

Distressed, Tokiomi stroked his goatee gingerly. His fingers sank into the familiar fuzzy sensation of his signature charm point, calming down his frazzled nerves considerably. He took a deep breath. He reassessed the situation as a magus of elegance.

It all began with the appearance of that Rider. Iskandar, the King of Conquerors, had called for the Servants watching from the sidelines to reveal themselves with a jeering invitation. Tokiomi's Servant, Archer, Gilgamesh, had taken the bait almost immediately. As the King of Heroes, Archer could not stomach the insult of another King belittling him.

Tokiomi hadn't expected any of the other Masters to summon a Servant on par with his Archer. But his expectations were dashed with the appearance of two more reputable kings from history, Saber and Rider. Strangely enough, Tokiomi found Archer's stubborn arrogance to be a commendable trait when his Servant refused Rider's query for his True Name.

But even that small respite had been trampled with the appearance of Caster. It was that same magus Tokiomi had seen climb up the steps of Ryuudou Temple a few nights ago. To think that the man himself was the Caster Servant and not the Master of Caster. Tokiomi cursed the infernal Caster for revealing Archer's True Name so candidly.

But the Caster didn't stop there. He dragged out Assassin from her hiding place and threw her straight in the way of Rider's chariot. Tokiomi and Kirei had to enter an impromptu discussion over the merits of Assassin's survival.

The process of deliberation had taken a while, but ultimately, Tokiomi had Kirei sacrifice another Assassin. He hated the idea, feeling it a waste to lose another body of Assassin so needlessly. Tokiomi felt especially fortunate that his student Kirei had no eyes for the Holy Grail. He was doubly more fortunate that Assassin was so obedient of a Servant as to die for their cause.

But still, Assassin's second death had poked a hole in Tokiomi's grand plan. The other Masters and Servants would now think twice before assuming Assassin had been soundly killed off. They might even begin to suspect Assassin's Noble Phantasm.

But even this blunder wasn't the greatest tribulation of the night. Promptly after Rider had started hunting Assassin like common game, Berserker had appeared out of nowhere and challenged Archer to a fight. The King was more than willing to oblige and unleashed his fury.

Now, even as sweat dripped down the sides of Tokiomi's face, Archer opened more and more of the Gate of Babylon. Gilgamesh truly didn't know the word "restraint". He rained down Noble Phantasm after Noble Phantasm at the Servant of madness. Tokiomi didn't mind this. Caster had already outed Archer's True Name so hiding Archer's Noble Phantasm was only delaying the inevitable reveal.

But the thing that scared Tokiomi was that Berserker showed no sign of backing down even after a full half hour of the King's Treasury. The black Servant was nothing more than a wild beast in the guise of a knight, countering Gilgamesh's arsenal with Gilgamesh's arsenal. He had the frightening ability of stealing and expertly using whatever Noble Phantasm Gilgamesh fired. It was like Archer was feeding Berserker ammo to use back against them.

There was no doubt in Tokiomi's mind. Berserker was Gilgamesh's natural enemy. Just the mere thought of any Heroic Spirit actually matching the King of Heroes sent Tokiomi's plans into a spiral doubt. Contrary to every assumption Tokiomi had going into this war, could Gilgamesh actually lose?

But Tokiomi reasoned that it was still unlikely. As the fight was dragged on longer and longer, holes in the black knight's defense was slowly appearing. He couldn't avoid everything. Damage was surely being done. Berserker compensated the difference in numbers with the tendrils on his back and Madness Enhancement, but even that had a limit.

Yes, a limit. This was Tokiomi's one saving grace. Berserker by the looks of it was a Servant that required copious amounts of magical energy. No matter how great his Master was, Berserker would be running out of magical energy soon.

But then again, Tokiomi's own reserves were not without limit. Archer had a Spirit Origin that was two-thirds divine. The magical energy needed to sustain his core was considerable. And with every sword and axe Archer threw at Berserker, Tokiomi's magical energy reserves depleted.

Even if Archer won against Berserker, there were still four other Servants ready to fight. Lancer and Saber were caught up in their own fight. But Rider and Caster were merely watching from the sidelines. There was nothing stopping them from affirming some shoddy alliance and crushing Archer after Tokiomi's magical energy reserves were low.

Rider must possess a Noble Phantasm as formidable and great as the shadow he casted in history. And then there was Caster whose True Name and Noble Phantasm remained an enigma.

Tokiomi closed his eyes tightly. He stroked his goatee harder and harder. He knew what had to be done. The optimal path towards victory in the Holy Grail War was now in sight. But going down that path would mean possibly earning the King's ire.

If Tokiomi fell out of the King's good graces, not even all the Command Seals on his hand could save him.

But still, the alternative, the idea of Archer dying tonight by the collective effort of Berserker, Rider and Caster, was worse.

Master and Servant relations could be repaired at a later date. But if Tokiomi were to lose his Servant tonight, then there would be no relation to mend. His decision was clear, thorny though it may be.

"King of Heroes, quell your rage and retreat," Tokiomi said, closing his eyes as the Command Seals on his right hand blazed to life. The outermost crescent mark on his hand shone brightly before disappearing, leaving only a faint shadow of where it used to be.

The demigod king raged, and so the earth trembled. Caster gleefully watched the destruction from a safe distance. Unlike Rider who had the luxury of a flying chariot, he made do with jumping towards a rooftop farther away from the destruction.

The King of Heroes no longer stood aloft a streetlamp. Berserker had thrown a couple of swords at the lamp post and tore it to pieces, forcing Archer to land on the ground. The golden king had thereafter promptly thrown a temper tantrum about standing on the same level as a mongrel and then promised to painfully tear the flesh off Berserker's bones.

That was about half an hour ago, and Gilgamesh didn't make light of his promise. He opened more and more portals of the Gate of Babylon, dishing out Noble Phantasms in the dozens at Berserker. Everything unfortunate enough to be in Berserker's vicinity like the pile of cargo crates and ground beneath him had been reduced to rubble.

Saber and Lancer had taken the ground rumbling as their cue to take their fight deeper into the harbor complex. So, the two fights proceeded without interruption between them.

But amidst all the destruction, Berserker stood his ground. He took everything Archer fired and used it to build up his own arsenal. He would use the two Noble Phantasms in his hands to knock back the barrage of weapons thrown at him. Then once the momentum of the newly fired weapons was stopped, Berserker would drop the weapons he held in his hands and grab the newer ones spinning in the air, stealing them with a touch. The tendrils behind his back also helped him steal more weapons, blackening them as soon as they were caught.

After a cycle of this back-and-forth, Archer inevitably got fed up with hurling Noble Phantasms at Berserker and Berserker snatching them all up for his own use. Archer swung his right arm back, summoning a dome of portals all around Berserker. There had to be at least forty different portals that fired simultaneously at Berserker. It looked like that would be the end of the line for Berserker, but Caster was surprised with the explosive speed at which Berserker's instincts moved.

As soon as the dome of portals had surrounded him, Berserker flung all of the Noble Phantasms he had stolen at them. The ensuing chaos of one weapon clashing with another created a tiny gap which Berserker exploited. He moved with monstrous speed and superhuman reflexes, just barely coming out of the barrage with a few scrapes at his armor.

Archer was of course livid to see the mad dog still on his feet after that last attack. He gritted his teeth and felt insulted that a single Berserker had lasted this long against him. "Very well. I will enjoy cutting you to ribbons before you die, mongrel!" He snarled as he opened another wave of portals, this time directly above and below Berserker's position.

Golden chains shot out of the portals, threatening to seal Berserker in place. But before they could get a hold of him, Berserker growled in staunch defiance and ran like hell. He narrowly avoided the barrage of chains that shot at him, relying on his beast-like instincts to force through it. He snatched whatever weapon was left on the ground and tried to close the distance with Archer.

Archer, for all his pride, never once considered the notion of falling back. He met Berserker's black blade with a golden sword he pulled from behind his back. They locked blades for half a second, before Berserker jumped back and dodged another torrent of blades that aimed where he stood. Like this, even if Berserker could close the distance between him and Archer, he would still end up being in one place for too long and become an easy target for Archer's portals. If he couldn't force a victory in the short span of time their blades met, then Berserker would most likely just be sealed in place by Archer's chains.

Stubbornly, Berserker repeatedly closed the distance between Archer and him, only to be forced back again and again. Each time their weapons met, both Servants would be surprised by the sheer strength behind each of their swings. Berserker seemed surprised that Archer hid so much strength for a guy who hadn't moved much in the entire battle. And Archer was surprised that Berserker's strength only seemed to be increasing each time they fought.

Caster found Berserker's ability to be incredibly troublesome. Everything Berserker's hands and tendrils got a hold off would be bathed in the same black curse that covered Berserker. Once the objects were dyed in black shade and red light, their ownership would be passed over to Berserker as his new "Noble Phantasms".

But it didn't stop there. Whatever weapon he got a hold off, Berserker would demonstrate a fearsome ability to wield it with deadly expertise. Be it swords, spears, halberds or axes, Berserker could steal and master them all.

Berserker epitomized what a natural enemy to Archer's Gate of Babylon would look like. He was a true Master of All that could use whatever Archer could throw at him. He was a veritable monster. Whatever didn't kill him, only made him stronger.

Caster considered the ramifications of what this information meant. If he were to face Berserker in a fight, he couldn't simply just spam projection magecraft. He would have better chances by just sticking to one weapon. A ranged attack would also probably work. It didn't matter how good Berserker was at using weapons, if the weapons thrown his way exploded in his face before he had the chance to steal them.

Still, Caster didn't want to kill Berserker and he didn't want Berserker to die tonight either. A Servant that could last this long against the King of Heroes was impressive as hell. The fact that he was a Berserker meant he'd be even simpler to manipulate as well. He was the perfect pawn.

"You've got quite the evil face there, Caster," Rider remarked. He grinned as he noticed the smirk creeping up the corner of Caster's lips. "Care to share what's on your mind?"

"It's nothing. Just admiring Berserker over there," Caster answered somewhat honestly.

Rider tilted back his head. "Well, he is quite something. I just don't think he'll be willing to listen to my offer," he muttered glumly, scratching his chin.

Indeed, one could not reason a Berserker into an alliance. But one could just force a Berserker into submission through less reputable means.

Just as Caster was following this train of thought, the ground beneath them stopped rumbling. The never-ending onslaught of Noble Phantasms had finally stopped. This caught the attention of every Servant in the harbor, even Saber and Lancer.

Archer's armor clinked incessantly. His golden earrings shook as he seethed with utter rage. The golden portals behind him stilled, their weapons staying frozen in place. Archer sent a look up to the clouds. His blood red eyes livid.

"You dare order for your king's retreat? How bold of you, Tokiomi!" Archer spat out with abject annoyance.

He waved his right arm, dismissing all the portals behind him and withdrawing all the weapons lying on the ground that Berserker hadn't stolen. He shut his eyes in frustration as he muttered, "You avoided death by a hair, mad dog."

Archer turned his face to address all the Servants gathered, "You mongrels! Be sure to cull your numbers by the time we next meet. Only a true hero should have the right to face me!"

The King of Heroes looked away and stepped out of the battle, dissolving into a flurry of gold dust.

The abrupt departure of Archer left everyone a little flabbergasted. Rider broke the silence by saying, "It seems that Archer's Master was the first to shy away. But it looks like Archer and his Master don't see eye to eye on things."

Caster nodded, assenting to Rider's assessment. This was a turn of good fortune for Caster. Berserker's survival of tonight's confrontation was in his best interests.

But speaking of the Servant of Madness, ever since his designated target had disappeared, he stood stock still. His gaze idled towards his left, where all four of the remaining Servants had gathered. He took one long look and then his red visor lit up wildly again.

"ARRRRTHAAARR!" Berserker roared like a beast, before breaking into a mad dash straight into the middle of Saber and Lancer's paused duel.

With the two black halberds in his hands, Berserker charged at Saber, putting all his weight into a downward swing.

The King of Knights met the black knight's weapons head on with Excalibur. The ground beneath her feet was crushed, but she remained standing. With their weapons locked, Saber got an up-close look at Berserker. But the harder she stared, the less she could see from the black haze covering Berserker's armor.

"What quarrel do you have with me, Berserker?" Saber asked with gritted teeth as she felt waves of anger roll down Berserker's entire body.

But the Servant merely growled louder. His sanity had long since evaporated, leaving him with only the bearings of a beast dictated by its passions. And for whatever reason, Berserker had chosen Saber as the next object of his rage.

Caster frowned at this new development. His steely gaze watched from afar.

A sinking feeling of discomfort whelmed up within Saber. Something about Berserker's aura unsettled her very core. She channeled that frustration into her blade and knocked back the spears out of Berserker's hands. She didn't let up and proceeded to swing down another slash at Berserker's undefended chest.

The tip of Excalibur just grazed against Berserker's armor as he bent back to avoid her swing with monstrous dexterity. He quickly leaped to a safe distance.

This move brought Saber's eyes to widen. For a knight in full-body armor, Berserker was extremely nimble.

Saber didn't give chase but remained ready for next attack. Her green eyes widened more when she saw Berserker retreat all the way back to where he had left his collection of stolen Noble Phantasms.

Berserker roared with renewed vigor as he threw one Noble Phantasm after another in Saber's direction. Saber could very well retreat, but that would mean endangering the woman behind her.

Irisviel von Einzbern, wife of Saber's Master, had been dutifully sticking close to Saber. It was the smart thing to do in a warzone with seven Servants roaming around. The safest place was most certainly by Saber's side. Also, Lancer was an honorable knight who wouldn't do something so underhanded as to attack Saber's Master in the middle of their duel. So, Irisviel had acted as Saber's silent shadow, offering medical assistance to Saber when necessary.

But now, against a Berserker who had no qualms with collateral damage, Irisviel was in serious danger. If Saber just stepped to the side to avoid the onslaught of weapons, then there was no guarantee that Irisiviel would be able to move fast enough in time to do the same.

Her decision was made instantly. Saber stepped back closer to Irisivel and proceeded to deflect all of the Noble Phantasms Berserker threw. Her Excalibur knocked aside explosive halberds and magic swords. The vast majority of them landed a good distance away from where she stood. She made sure to keep them as far away as possible from Berserker's reach.

Eventually, Berserker ran out of weapons to throw and kept the last battle axe for his personal use. He jumped back to close the distance with Saber. The momentum of his leap, combined with his use of two hands on the axe shaft, meant he could place a monstrous amount of force in his strike.

Saber met the axe with her sword. Her arms buckling under the weight of Berserker's attack. Blood ran down her left arm, the aftereffects of the curse from Lancer's spear. Saber gritted her teeth. She was about to lose her ground. She could feel it. But if that were to happen, then Irisviel behind her would be…

"Saber! Hang in there," Irisviel said as she pulled out a strand of hair off her head and used it as a medium for her magecraft. With a single flick of a finger, she weaved a silver wire-construct mallet and swung at Berserker to get him off Saber.

She placed an incredible weight into the swing, but it didn't even faze Berserker. He kept himself rooted by the tendrils on his back sticking to the ground. The attempt to separate him from Saber only seemed to make him angrier as he mustered more force into his axe.

As if responding to Berserker's wrath, the stolen Noble Phantasm activated. Its blade screeched to life like a chainsaw. Sparks began to shed off the deadlock between Excalibur and Berserker's black axe. Saber was just about to consider taking the blow with her armor when Berserker was forcibly kicked out Saber's personal space. He was sent rolling to the ground in a loud crash.

In Berserker's place stood the intimidating figure of an angry Celt in green leather armor. The man took a few steps back and stopped at a position equidistant to both Saber and Berserker, creating a three-way deadlock.

Spinning his two spears in hand, Lancer glared at Berserker. His amber eyes smoldering with hate. "Mad warrior! If you continue to get in the way of my knight's duel with Saber, then this Diarmuid Ua Duibhne shall be your enemy as well!"

From his rooftop, Caster whistled. "He must be popular with the ladies," he commented dryly.

Saber stared with a stunned expression at Lancer. His knightly countenance lifted her spirits. "Lancer, you…" she muttered.

"Don't get the wrong idea, Saber. We are still foes. It just wouldn't be a satisfying end unless I best you by my own hands," Lancer said, shaking his head with a resplendent smile.

Berserker got back his bearings. He stared menacingly at the latest interruption, some pretty-boy in green. He wanted to attack again as soon as possible but felt his magical energy reserves critically low. The drawn-out fight with the King of Heroes had left him so drained that his Madness Enhancement took a step back to let him regenerate more magical energy.

But just as things were looking up for Saber's precarious standing, a nasally voice resounded across the harbor, "What are you doing exactly, Lancer?" Kayneth asked, his voice irate. "Hurry up and defeat Saber. Stop wasting your time by provoking Berserker. He's doing us a favor!"

Lancer scrunched his brows. He spread out his arms to present his plea to his Master. "Milord, I humbly ask you, let me deal with Saber by myself as soon as this interloper is vanquished! I swear to bring you victory and the Holy Grail!" Lancer implored with his utmost sincerity.

But Kayneth only snorted coldly. "Hmph. If you were truly capable of that, then Saber wouldn't be still standing right now." His voice grew angrier with every word he spoke. The frustration Kayneth had pent-up burst forth as malice. "It seems you need to be reminded of your place. To even dare talk back to your Master…"

"Milord!" Lancer begged desperately. His handsome face ruined by his Master's distrust.

"Lancer, by my command seal, I order you to defeat Saber with Berserker's aid," Kayneth mercilessly commanded.

The expression on Lancer's face contorted into one of utter guilt. He lowered his head solemnly at Saber. "I'm sorry, Saber," he muttered under his breath before he leapt at Saber. His red and yellow spears shining menacingly with demonic light.

"Irisviel, get back!" Saber barked. She parried the yellow spear and narrowly avoided the red spear aiming for her throat. But before Saber could relax, she felt the air shake when Lancer stepped aside for Berserker to jump at her with precise timing.

It all happened too quickly. One minute, Lancer stepped up to help Saber fend off Berserker. The next minute, Lancer and Berserker worked in perfect tandem to systemically back Saber into a corner.

Saber felt her breath go ragged as she just barely parried another blow from Berserker, before having to block Lancer's yellow spear and then taking a hit from Lancer's red spear to her left shoulder. Blood gushed out as Gae Dearg breached through her armor's magical defense.

The King of Knights drew several steps back, clutching her shoulder.

"Saber!" Irisviel called out as she stitched up Saber's wound good as new with her healing magecraft. She still stood close to Saber but was safe as the two enemy Servants were solely focused on Saber.

"Irisviel, you should get to safety. This… may be the end of the line for me," Saber said as she panted. With her left hand still in shambles and her Noble Phantasm sealed, she was quickly being overwhelmed. Assuming that nothing changed, her defeat was only a matter of time.

Saber deflected another swing of Berserker's battle axe and used a burst of wind from Excalibur to sway Lancer's jabs into missing. She didn't dare look behind her, but still felt Irisiviel's continued presence. "Irisviel!" Saber insisted again.

"No, I'm not going anywhere." Irisviel's eyes hardened with resolve, shaking her head. "Believe in your Master, Saber."

Kiritsugu's here?

Saber thought of her aloof Master. She knew him to be capable, but she doubted how one shrewd man could turn the tides of the battle before her imminent defeat at the hands of two Servants.

But unbeknownst to Saber, in another corner of the harbor that miraculously survived Archer's wrath, a shrewd man had a rifle pointed at Lancer's Master. The Magus Killer's trigger finger was itching, ready to fire a bullet straight through the man's brain.

Author's Note:

I tried to make the Saber and Lancer interaction a little rosy.

Also, some shameless self-promotion. I started a new story called "The Sword Demon's Rage". It's a crossover story between Fate/Stay Night and Kimetsu no Yaiba. The premise is that Shirou is summoned by the Counter Force in the body of a new-born demon as a Berserker. His mission: Slay all the demons!

Thanks for reading.