* The House in Fata Morgana – The Wretched King

* Fate/Apocrypha – Before Dawn

* Fata Morgana – The Wretched King

What was the meaning of life?

There was no living being in this world who truly asked to be born; rather, it is something that merely happened. But that was not something they would question. After all, the only alternative to being born was 'nothing'. Imagining one's own lack of existence was as futile and dreadful as picturing what could lie beyond the veil of death.

Yet, the question of meaning was something that inevitably came to any organism with enough sapience. Life didn't exist for any purpose other than to live, so one couldn't find the reason in their birth; that was why, some tried to find it in their death; others yet tried to define it with their actions, without a final destination. But in all those instances, the 'meaning' they sought was more or less the same: a purpose.

There was nothing wrong in itself with living for the sake of being alive. It was the primary instinct all life forms shared. Not matter how many variations of purposes they might choose for themselves, they would still be born, watch the sun rise and fall, and finally reach the end of their journey. That was how life functioned no matter what you did with it, and having no meaning wouldn't strip that life away from you either. So it was perfectly fine to live without searching for a greater purpose.

But then, what of a life with no end in sight?

Once one had lived beyond, much beyond what life had in store for them, what was the meaning of existing? When a concept of end did not exist, then the concept of beginning lost any significance, and incidentally everything in-between became trapped in this meaninglessness.

Yes.

Even a life without meaning could not exactly be called meaningless, as long as it could begin and end as a life should. But after forsaking the greater plan of nature, one could only be an outcast in all matters and forms. Once that which defined the existence of those around them was no more, then their life had truly become meaningless.

That was what he thought, over and over again, powerless against his own meaninglessness. He had all the time in the world to think, after all. Too much time even, all too much when there was nothing to think about. He could also choose to forsake thinking. It wasn't easy to achieve but he had done it before, for a long time he had roamed the land like a beast with never a thought spared for his own condition.

But he wasn't a beast.

If there was a meaning to this life, then he had to be able to think in order to find it. Because of this instictive fear, he had given up on being a beast.

Then, what was he?

That was hard to tell.

He could put a word on it – people hadn't failed to come up with plenty of terminology to define the likes of him. But that only carried meaning to them, as he was an existence that they had to define in contrast to their own.

If he had to define his existence by himself, then... he could only tell what he was lacking, instead of what he had.

In the end, maybe it was accurate: perhaps he was an empty shell, the husk left behind after everything had been taken from it.

He didn't need to eat, only to consume blood.

He didn't need to sleep.

He didn't need to care about time.

He couldn't afford to stay under the light of the sun for too long.

Under these circumstances, could he really be seen as a living being? A person's daily life was rythmed by their meals and their sleep, and they saw their life within a definite range of time. Once all of that was lost, the sensation of being alive disappeared with it. Perhaps that was why finding a purpose became an obssession. That sensation was not the only thing he had lost, however.

He didn't know how long he had lived, because he had stopped counting at some point. His only measure of time was the evolution of humanity. Modern cities with their towering fortress-like buildings, their population reaching what would have constituted a country long ago, and the mentality of those inhabitants had all become alien to him. Comparing it with what he felt should be right, then he had been alive for a long time indeed.

The memories of the place he had been born in had faded.

The faces of those who had shared his life had faded.

Even his name had been eroded by the centuries.

Then, he truly had nothing and he truly was nobody.

If only there was a meaning... if only there was a purpose behind this everlasting wandering, maybe he wouldn't have forgotten.

Or had he also forgotten the meaning of it?

...

He had thought about taking his own life.

It wouldn't be hard.

All he had to do was to refrain from sustaining himself, which would lead to his body breaking down. If he wanted to make it faster, he could simply expose himself to the sun until he was a heap of ashes. He had considered it very often, almost as often as he had pondered about his existance. It was a logical conclusion, in a way.

But he had never gone beyond thinking about it.

It was hard to explain why. A part of him had enough of walking the earth aimlessly until the end of times. But another part was asking him: 'If you end it now, then what was the point of making it last for so long?'.

It was probably contradictory and ridiculous, but that was all he had.

The one and only spark still fueling his existance.

That and... ... ...no, maybe that was all.

And this spark made him survive no matter what even without knowing why – in other words, it meant giving in to his vampiric urges. His immortality had already made him too much of a pariah to live amongst humans, so with this his relationship with them had become completely predatory. It wasn't as though he enjoyed drinking blood or killing human beings. If possible, he would suck on the blood of other mammals, but those did not fulfill his thirst inthe same way as human blood did. And so, there would unavoidably be times when he would latch on the first people he would come across.

There were others like him throughout the vast world. He had met some of them on a few occasions but he had never felt any form of empathy for them. Those who called themselves 'Dead Apostles' had completely accepted their existence and what it entailed. They had even formed a society of their own – in that sense, they were closer to humanity than him.

But he did not accept them.

To him who saw humans as his once brethen, they were disgusting beings, however hypocritical it might be of him. And for that matter, Dead Apostles did not accept him either. Most of them ignored him while others were openly hostile. At any rate, he avoided them when he could and had never risked a clash. After all, there was the possibility of him being killed, something he wanted to push as far into the future as possible for the time being.

At any rate, he belonged neither with those he used to be like nor with those he had become similar to. He didn't have his place amongst beasts either, he was more so a monster. Predator to all but enemy of none.

Did he pity himself for that fate?

It was hard to feel much of anything anymore.

Even what he liked to think as a spark of hope felt like the shadow of one, just as he felt like the shadow of a man. When those thoughts weren't filling his mind, his only preoccupation was survival. Every night, just like this one.

Tonight, he was walking down a forest road covered in roots and stones. Or maybe it was a mountain path. Frankly, he didn't pay that much attention to his surroundings. Most of the time, he traveled through inhabited places around the world, avoiding contact with civilisation as well as he could. He had even thought about living entirely like an hermit somewhere humans would never find him, but each time without fail he would be drawn back to them.

He could feel his body was demanding nourishment.

These parts were wild but there were villages nearby (he could see lights in the far off distance), perhaps even a city. Humans had spread throughout the planet so much that he didn't even need to seek them in order to find them. If he found someone tonight in these woods, he would drink their blood. He did not wish to kill them, however holding back at those moments was not simple. Another part of him was also scared of what he might inflict upon them if he let them live. If he were to create more empty monstrosities like him, then perhaps ending his life would be preferable instead.

Finding humans walking in the woods at this hour might be too much to expect. Unlike him, they couldn't see well in the dark and would much rather stay indoor. And if indeed there was no living soul on his path, he would have to visit their village instead. The idea made him uncomfortable.

It wasn't that he hated civilisation and neither was he scared of it. Simply, he felt out of place, as though that was a realm he didn't belong in. Hunting all the animals inside the forest might be a better alternative. It would require more efforts however, something that was hard to spare for someone with as little enthusiasm as him.

Thankfully, the matter was settled quickly: he spotted a figure ahead. They didn't have a fashlight or a torch with them, so they must not have spotted him. On his end, he couldn't see them more clearly: a few stealthy steps later, he could tell that this was a young man no older than thirty, if not younger. His steps were confident despite the rough terrain, although they would be less so if he knew what creature lurked here.

He had found his prey for tonight.

But when he approached to take him by surprise and kill him switfly, the young man came to a stop. Suddenly, his eyes were not glancing around randomely at the darkness – they were looking at him, the predator.

"How dreadful." Although he said that, the young man's voice bore no trace of fear.

He must be mistaking him for a boar or a bear, something humans could deal with. But even if he was armed to deal with wild creatures, a vampire feared not the weapons of men.

But when he took another step, the young man umistakably talked to him again:

"You aren't human, are you?"

"..."

"I can't tell exactly why, but your presence is... different."

"..."

"In fact, I can see your eyes shine a bit!"

"Are... you not scared?" He asked slowly.

"Scared? Are you implying you're going to harm me?" The young man raised his eyebrows with genuine surprise. "That is strange, I can usually tell when people want to kill me."

"I will drink your blood... it will only take a second..."

"Ah, so that's what it is!" He wasn't scared by his warning. Quite the opposite, actually: he smiled in a way that was very inappropriate for his situation. "It means you are some form of vampiric being, aren't you? I've heard a lot about those but this is my first time meeting one in the flesh!"

"...A magus..."

That made more sense. For someone to blather on this subject with such casualty, they had to be part of that world. Magi were certainly a lot more common than Dead Apostles and they were very knowledgeable about things that even he didn't know. They were also much more able to fight back than regular humans.

But that did not scare him.

Even with magecraft, magi were still humans.

He knew them to be unscrupulous, so he didn't want to let him get away and to hunt down another, more innocent victim.

"I understand. I don't mind it if you want to feed on me." The young man nodded. "But, just know that I will fight back with all I have."

That didn't matter – he couldn't imagine himself losing to a human.

He hastened to him like he would any other prey, grabbing his shoulders to stabilize him before plunging his sharp teeth into his neck. This was not a speed humans could react to, let alone an unprepared magus. It only took a few seconds to absorb all the blood and devour the life essence of a human.

Yet, he was unable to get a single drop.

His fangs were biting flesh for sure but somehow there was no blood to be absorbed. And while he was puzzled at this turn of event, the young man's retaliation came: the vampire's body was impaled in several places by large blades. A moment later, half of his chest was utterly pulverized and he was knocked back to the ground.

"Whew, that was close!" The young man patted his injured neck. "It's a good thing I'd moved my blood vessels while we were talking."

"... ... ... ..."

This was bad.

It didn't matter if his body was destroyed to that extent; he was already almost back in his original state. However, regenerating meant expending energy, which he was on low supply of. He didn't understand how the young man had attacked him, so killing him during the next clash was unlikely.

To survive, he would have to run away...

"It really is strange, you know?" The young man stepped toward him without hesitation. "Even when you actually attacked me to take my life, I didn't feel any killing intent from you. How many years of training did it take to conceal it that well?"

"...I wish not harm..." He was feeling the first signs of weakness. Would he even have enough energy to escape that man? "I loath you not... it is merely necessary..."

"Really? That is a strange thing to hear from a being like you..." The young man tilted his head several times, scrutinizing from every angle. "Now that I look at you, I really can't feel anything from you. Such a strange man you are..."

The young man crouched down and moved his arm toward him. He thought he was about to try and give him a final blow, but instead the magus rolled up his sleeve and presented his bare forearm to him.

"What is the meaning of this...?"

"Didn't I say I don't mind giving you my blood? You do look like you'd need it. I just don't plan to die in this kind of place." The young man smiled. "I would rather offer you a cup of tea but that won't help right now, will it?"

"... ..."

He was on his guards. That was only natural: he couldn't even begin to guess what was going on in that man's head. To offer oneself so readily seconds after being attacked... However, he did need to feed himself or else he would perish soon enough. His instincts were pushing him to accept the arm offered to him and it was only a matter of time until he gave in to them.

"By the way, I didn't introduce myself yet, did I?" While having his blood absorbed, the magus kept talking. "My name's Ivan Pedilefey, but just 'Ivan' is fine."

"..."

After he had drunk a certain amount, the blood suddenly stopped flowing just has it had before. That wasn't as much of a meal as he was used to, but it would be enough to stay alive. And so, he let go of Ivan's arm.

"I'm really curious about you. This meeting feels like fate!" His complexion had grown paler but that did nothing to abate Ivan's enthusiasm. "But tell me, what is your name?"

"..."

"You don't want to tell me? I suppose names are a precious thing after all. Us magi never us our real name in fear of curses, even I don't know what name I was really given at birth."

"I have no name... whatsoever."

"Oh? Really? Is that not a bother?"

"I need not a name. None walks by my side but the light of the moon." He shook his head. "What use is a name to one who will not be called?"

"That is not true!" Ivan replied. "A name has many more roles than to be called by it. When you say 'me' or 'I', you can only look at yourself in the present. Having a name is the foundation of our self, if you ask me. Without your name, can you tell me who you are?"

"..."

"Well, it's also very inconvenient for me if you don't have one, so..." Ivan stroke his chin and lost himself in thought for a moment. "'Savrance'... no, let's make it two since that is the norm... How about Savrance Arco?"

"Savrance... Arco...?"

"Those are names I was reserving for future familiars, but I can spare you two of them!" Ivan grabbed his hat and lifted it as a greeting. "Nice to meet you, Savrance Arco. There's a lot I want to learn about you."

"..."

What a strange encounter.

His life had been long, so long that he couldn't remember most of it. During this eternity, he had met many humans who hadn't been preys. Unusual people like him who took an interest in things they shouldn't approach. Their names and faces had long since vanished from his memory, as well as what his relationship to them had been.

Humans were his once brethen but each individual person failed to leave an impression on him, who would inevitably outlive them and meet many more.

But for some reason, that man...

Ivan Pedilefey...

Now that Savrance looked at him not as a prey but as a human, there was a twinge in his heart. A feeling he hadn't thought he could have anymore, both soothing and painful. And with this bittersweet feeling, like rain pouring over a parched land, he felt a new life budding inside of him. It was only for an instant though – after recovering from this shock, the reality of his emptiness returned.

"This encounter truly feels special, don't you think?" Ivan's smile was mysterious and unfathomable. "I usually don't believe in concepts like fate. But something makes me believe this was meant to happen."

Savrance stood up and looked down at him with mixed feelings. In truth, he understood perfectly what Ivan meant. This feeling which had taken him by surprise was one of nostalgia.

An emotion creeping up from a past long bygone.

"Tell me, Savrance, what is it that you do?" The young man asked. "You don't strike me as an aristocrat. So what is someone like you doing out here?"

"...I travel."

"Oh? And what is your destination?"

"... ... ... ... I... wonder..."

"Hmmm." There was a curious glint in his eyes. "I had a hunch. I'm something of a wonderer too, actually! I simply go wherever I feel like going at the moment. But if you aren't headed anywhere in particular..."

Ivan held his hand out toward Savrance. The meaning of it was clear, yet the vampire did not know how to react to that. But Ivan chuckled to see him hesitating so, as though it was endearing to him.

"Don't worry, I'm not going to bind you to any place or to anyone. After all, freedom is what fits us the most. But if you don't mind, I'd like to walk that uncertain path with you for a bit."

What a strange meeting indeed.

It made Savrance wonder...

Had it been thanks to the spark he had desperately held onto?

Chapter LXXIX: Wistful Wanderer

* Fate/Apocrypha – Before Dawn

The Treasure Golems created by Ivan were not very complexe in design. They could only called golems because of the cores they were built around. The technique behind their fabrication was, of course, Ivan's Combination and that was the reason for their unusual appearance. They were little more than weapons and artifacts he had gathered over the years stitched together against all logic and moving thanks to the golem cores.

That being said, this unnatural mean of fabrication was also the secret behind their strength: by putting the effects of different artifacts together, the result would be all the more powerful. That was the philosophy behind Combination in the first place. Thus, even if they were not supposed to reach the level of Servants, they had a few tricks up their sleeves.

That was what Lancer of Red discovered while facing the angel-like Treasure Golem that had suddenly attacked him and his Master.

He had not expected this fight to last more than a few exchanges, but that karakuri-looking bastard was awfully tough for what it was. There was nothing his spear couldn't slice through but he unfortunately lacked the sheer firepower to blow the golem to smithereen. The reason why this was an issue lied in fact that all the hits he had landed on it so far had been healed within a few seconds.

The first thing that came to his mind when seeing that was Ravana's absurd regenerative abilities. But this situation was not quite the same: you couldn't really 'heal' something that wasn't organic in nature, as there was no such natural process to begin with. Thus, the only way to mimic such an ability would be to wound back time or to automatically repair oneself; and since the former was way out of the league of a mere golem, the answer was clear.

Automated self-repair had to be enable by something; it wasn't like a Noble Phantasm that worked based on Mystery. Maybe it was a spell engraved in the golem, or maybe a specific part of it was activating the process.

Whichever it was, as long as he could get rid of it that doll would be like paper mache before him.

"Ora!"

While avoiding the golem's flail with ease (even though it was made of many weapons, for some reason this was the one it used to attack), Lancer retaliated with a thrust powerful enough to blow a hole right through his opponent. He knew it to be futile but he needed to observe the way to regenerated. After exactly three seconds, the Treasure Golem emitted a faint glow and the hole started patching itself up. At the same time, a metallic sound could be heard – it was hard to tell if it was related however, since that golem was mostly made of metal objects anyway.

But while making these observations, realization struck him.

(Since it's made of a bunch of things, then one of 'em has to be responsible for it. And if it is, then it has to be noticeable...)

Let us assume that humans could move their organs around. Where would you hide your heart in order to make it harder to reach? It had to be in the back of course – not necessarily in the middle of it, but it certainely wouldn't be at the front where most of the damage would be dealt.

In order to make sure, Lancer proceeded to dash around the golem, delivering a flurry of slashes that left marks all over its body. When it started reconstructing itself, he kept an eye out; nothing seemed amiss on its back or on its legs. The artifact in question could be as small as an ant for all he knew, so this was not a foolproof method. Even after trying two more times, he still didn't have a clue.

But while thinking a bit more, he noticed something: what were those wings for anyway?

Certainely, it wasn't as though it could take flights with wings made of rubbish stacked together. It looked like an artistic choice more so than smart design, but it did make Lancer think that they were hiding a good portion of the Treasure Golem's body.

Hence, with the next swipe of his spear he cut both of them clean off at the base.

"Bingo~!"

Three seconds later, an object in particular made a suspicious movement. It was hard to see because half of it was hidden away inside of the golem, but he could still make sense of its shape: it looked like a western-styled, elegantly ornate balance. The scale that was visible swayed strangely. When the wings floated back to the golem's back and reconnected, the balance was hidden from sight, but Lancer could guess it had settled down.

"Can't escape me now!" Once he knew what to aim for, it was a piece of cake. "Even if ya buried it a kilometre inside the earth, ya still couldn't hide it from me!"

With a few precise yet swift movements, Lancer delicately cut a hole that was more or less the shape of the balance and, with a kick, ejected the artifact from the golem. In the fear that it might still work even when seperated from it, he promptly reduced the balance in pieces as well.

And now, there was no need to hold back.

With no chance to fight back, the golem was diced up. While doing short work of it, Lancer came up a part in particular which was spherical and suspicious. When he destroyed in, half of the golem crumbled on its own.

"I see, so that's the thing keepin' ya goin', huh?"

With that, it was over.

Or so he thought, but the pile of rubbish metal was proving to have willpower to spare: although half of it was gone and the other half was in bad shape, it kept moving. The various pieces and scraps laying around shone a bright purple before propelling themselves at him like rockets. It was as though a shrapnel bomb had exploded next to him, and it turned out to be much deadlier than he could have imagined: some of the blades fired in this fashion managed to scrape him despite his ability to detect projectiles.

Now that it had no more vital part to protect, the Treasure Golem fired more and more bits of its body at him. Lancer finally understood where this vitality came from when he spotted another spherical object within the golem.

"So ya had two of those from the beginning...! I see, nigh unkillable in one hit and able to build yerself back..." He quickly destroyed the second golem core, upon what the Treasure Golem came apart completely. "Ya can get a practically invincible warrior like that. With an army of those, anyone could take any castle without breaking a sweat!"

This time, thankfully, his opponent was down for good.

"Really made me waste my time for nothing, didya..." He wasn't oblivious though. Those golems had appeared to support Savrance Arco, so their objective must have been to split them up. "We're already limited in what we can do against that tough bastard, I don't like where this is going..."

Elena and Odysseus were busy dealing with another Treasure Golem, one that was shaped like a giant ox. They were having a bit more trouble than Lancer it seemed, but he wasn't going to help them out, no sir. If they couldn't handle it, they would get what they had coming for half-assing their plans. He had his own responsabilities to take: if someone didn't keep an eye on Hatsuyo, she was bound to act recklessly.

In fact, she already had.

Lancer understood how she felt but this wasn't a battle where they could afford to pick personal targets – Savrance Arco was out of her league. That was something he had ascertained during the very short clash they'd had with the vampire. His Master could accumulate plenty of strength and reflexes but she ultimately had experience only in fighting other humans or weak familiars.

Savrance Arco, on the other hand... something was definitely up with him. When they had fought, Lancer had certainly had the edge in terms of speed but even so he hadn't felt like he had been at an advantage. There was also his annoying ability to suck up magical energy but that was a different matter.

Servants wouldn't do well against him, so Lancer might not make much of a difference. His place was to die defending his Master though, not standing on the sidelines.

"Now, where have you gone to... ... Hm?"

But when Lancer set out to find where his Master and the vampire had gone to while fighting, a hole opened not far from him. Another piece of modern art, one that ressembled a large feline, lept out of the hole and toward Lancer.

"Oi, are you kiddin' me!?"

Hastuyo was an endless source of surprise for Savrance.

Naturally, there was the formidable strength, agility and stamina she was displaying despite being a human. His instinct was telling him that this was a power once displayed by humanity a long time ago, but his most recent memories were of this modern era and he had grown accustomed to the frailty of those who lived in it. He even wondered if that girl might be inhuman like him but this peculiar essence was unmistakable.

What surprised him even more, however, was her boldness. It was one thing to be pitted against him against her will, but Hastuyo had been the one to come to him and to initiate battle. Savrance had already shown the extent of his own strength, so this couldn't be ignorance. Her eyes were sharp and calculating, with no trace of fear or fury that might cloud her judgement. On the contrary, she was coming at him with almost too much confidence and brazenness for her own good.

Thus, Savrance could only see it as a display of courage.

At this sight, he felt pride; although that might be a strange thing to be feeling in this moment. It wasn't something he could help: he admired humans and the progress they made, although he himself didn't understand the reason. That was why, he conceived pride at the thought she could stand in front of him so bravely.

Yet, he also felt immense sadness.

Truth be told, he had intended to take out the Servants and spare the Masters if he could. He hadn't thought the latters would try to step up to him after he had shown he could keep up with Heroic Spirits. The thought of killing these humans didn't please him.

Was this feeling misguided?

In the very long time he had been alive, he had always stayed out of the conflicts of men as far back as he could remember. He had only ever fought to defend his life or to feed himself – he had never seen anyone as his enemy. But this time, he had taken the oath to protect. If he intended to go through with it, then his weak-willed mindset had no place on this battlefield.

He knew that.

And yet... he hadn't found the will to kill Laurent when he'd had him at his mercy.

He wanted to protect the humans on the Ark, but this feeling extended to those attacking it. If it was only up to him, he would have preferred if this war never took place. That was how he had felt ever since he had come to live on the Ark and he knew this feeling to be true. But a feeling alone couldn't accomplish much – what he needed was resolve.

That was why, even though it pained him, he fought against Hatsuyo Toriyama.

"Die!"

Leaping around him more nimbly than a hare, Hatsuyo delivered a single stroke meant for his neck.

Such an attack was predictable however, and Savrance only had to raise his sword to block it. Because his armour protected most of his body anyway, there was little she could do except attacking the exposed areas. But even if that hadn't been the case, she should know already that wounding him was pointless. Perhaps she believed removing his head from his shoulder might kill him for good but that was naive.

"Do you hate me so?" Savrance retaliated faster than she could react and swung his blade at her open side. Thankfully for Hatsuyo, she also had some piece of black armour to guard her, although it was in worse shape. "Your blows carry a curious weight. What is this acrimony that guides your hand?"

"What's with all of you and chatting during a fight?!" She delivered a flurry of slashes aimed at different weak spots in his armour. Only a few successfully inflicted a wound and they were too shallow to celebrate; she rolled out of the way to avoid his blade. "You're in my way! That's all the reason I need!"

"Is that what gives you the strength to kill?"

"Shut up!" Her expression filled with even more animosity. After evading an attack by a hair's breadth, she slashed his arm and almost cut it clean off. "As if you'd understand! I'll be the one who gets the Grail and that means everyone else has to die! Don't pretend you don't understand!"

"You would go to such length for the Holy Grail...? Even so far as to needlessly put your own life on the line...?" Savrance muttered.

The Holy Grail War was meant for Servants to fight and best each others. For her to wage this battle on her own, she would need a strong conviction; a strong desire. Should he be in awe or should he be in grief? The determination which animated her and supported each of her swing was something he couldn't match with the void inside of him.

Maybe that was what the resolution he needed looked like.

"That is not a wish I shall allow." He replied firmly. "Child, although this war is none of your fault, I cannot honour your resolve."

"And who are you to say that, huh?! I won't let anyone decide for me!" She howled.

They kept crossing blade like this, never taking a meaningful advantage over the other yet never quite falling behind either.

Because they both displayed strength and skill beyond human, the advantage conferred by those was canceled out. In other words, characteristics which usually only mattered for a normal match became important factors, including their size and weight. Hatsuyo was by no mean a short person but the gap between their bulks was still incredible. Thus, while she was bouncing all over the place trying to land the best hits possible, Savrance stood strong and unmovable like a bulwark.

The difference in strength was also noticeable: if the vampire could easily block her attacks without breaking a sweat, Hatsuyo prefered getting out of the way when he came after her. Whereas she couldn't break through his defense and immortality with her best effort, he was held back only by his halfheartedness. In that sense, once could say he had an insurmountable edge over her.

This was something she too should have understood.

And yet she only redoubled in fierceness.

His lack of killing intent was to her advantage: he was more defenseless when he attacked than when he was on his guard and she seemed to choose these moments to strike. He didn't do anything to prevent it though, as even then he was invulnerable. But this lack of thoroughness was also something that could be used against him – unbeknownst to Savrance, he was letting her observe and think.

"So that's how much time it takes you to heal."

"Mh?"

Hatsuyo made a feint and pretended to be on the defensive, but when Savrance moved to attack her she bared her fangs and swung faster than him. With a single, swift stroke of her sword, she had cut the sinews of his wrist. This forced him to drop his sword – he instantly moved his other hand to catch it, but only then did his notice that she had done the same with his second arm; all in one attack.

After forcefully opening his guard, Hatsuyo ducked and dashed past him. Now that she was in his back, she stabbed the back of his knees: these areas were not protected by armour to allow mobility. With that, she had made his kneel and, before his arms were completely done healing, she went for his head.

Thack, thack, thack–!

But instead of a clean, simple swing to behead him, she hacked his skull repeatedly with unbridled violence. At that point, Savrance lost the ability to think: her furious assault on his head had wrecked his brain. Thus, he didn't know what she did with the few seconds that would pass before his regeneration brought him back. She might be able to keep him unconscious forever by doing this over and over again, relentlessly preventing his head from healing – but if she did, his regeneration would instinctively focus on that area and heal him faster than she could wound him.

When he came back to his senses however, he was surprised to find that all she had done had been to hurl him away. They had already moved quite a lot while fighting and now Savrance found himself on the edge of the Ark. Where they fought didn't change anything though, so he couldn't wrap his head around her intentions.

"This duel is not one you can win. There is no need for you to lose your life here; stand back and let your Servant fulfill their duty." Even now, Savrance solemnly begged her to quit.

"You're really getting on my nerve, you know that?" She walked toward him eyes cold like a snake's. "I can fight. And if I can, I will. What even is the point of having this strength otherwise? You can keep your pity and your pretty words for yourself!"

"...The wrath that dwells in you, I cannot understand it." No matter what he said, it was lost on this girl. "Do you not value your life?"

"Care to find out?" Her words carried a dreadful grimness. "You sound so sure of yourself but you're not as strong as you think. I will be the one walking away with your life."

"..."

Perhaps it had been foolish from the start to expect the fire of her determination to wane.

Incidentally, since she had sent him flying while he had been unconscious, Savrance was now unarmed. But if she thought that gave her an advantage, she was sorely mistaken: electricity ran across his golden armour and the air filled with static. This put Hatsuyo on her guard and she lept back, but she was not his target – a moment later, a sword came flying his his direction and he skillfully caught it by the handle.

His opponent was not deterred, however.

Savrance expected Hatsuyo to take off on the assault once again, yet she was simply observing him with her weapon at the ready. He didn't really understand what she was hoping for anyway; that was, until he noticed something. It was a smell – he had not paid any mind to it because of their duel but his nostrils were filled with the scent of burning.

(I see... I understand now, this was your objective from the start...!)

Hatsuyo had not taken him on simply because she trusted her own strength. Thinking about it, that other magus accompagnying her – Elena Bujart had said out loud that his weakness was the light of the sun.

Hatsuyo had remembered it and had planned from the beginning to kill him with light instead of steel. He know understood why he had made him move all the way here and why she had thrown him away when given the occasion: the Ark's edge was an open area with very little shade, and on one side was nothing but the sea. In other words, he could only go in one direction if he wanted to hide from the sun – and now that she had him where she wanted, Hatsuyo would do everything to make him stay.

He had greatly underestimated her.

For someone of his kin, life and death was decided by the deterioration of their body. Sunlight was dangerous not because it directly harmed them, but because it accelerated this process of degeneration. That being said, it wasn't absolutely deadly: Savrance was capable of staying out during the day for relatively long amount of times. But that was when he was sufficiently fed. Because of his old age, he required important quantities of blood to keep existing, and even then he only ever took enough to prolongate his existence.

Since he had not eaten in the last few days, he couldn't claim with confidence that he would survive the sun.

How long did he have left?

A few minutes?

Less?

More?

(I need only break past her defense.)

He knew for a fact that he was stronger than her and so his next action was simple: he rushed toward the City. If she stood in his way, he would attack. Hatsuyo had also come to the same conclusion and chose to stop him nonetheless. If he put all of his strength into it, he believed he could swipe her aside with little difficulty.

Hence his surprise when Hatsuyo not only withstood his attack, but also managed to push him back.

Had she gotten stronger? Savrance knew nothing about the source of her strength, yet even so he could swear she wouldn't have been able to do this before. But the reason might also be elsewhere; the more his body was broken down by sunlight, the weaker he would get.

This was barely noticeable for now but if she could gain strength while he would only lose it...

She had trapped him completely without him noticing.

Savrance tried many times to break through her defense, even running away from her in hope of slipping into an alley. But Hatsuyo would not let him get away from her even a single second. Unlike before when she had been forced to keep away, she was now pressuring him mercilessly; like a predator already latching onto its prey and waiting for it to be exhausted.

If this went on, he would truly die.

"..." What was this feeling?

Savrance felt something burning in his chest, different from the sensation of his seared flesh. He had fought for his life before, against humans and monsters alike. But had he ever been cornered?

Even though there was little tying him to this world, the emotion setting his heart ablaze was one that all creatures felt, the hallmark of life itself: the rage to live.

After coming all this way...

After finally finding a semblance of a place here on this Ark, it would seem he could muster more than a mere spark.

"I... cannot fall here!" He shouted with a conviction which surprised even himself. "I have yet to find a meaning to this eternity...! If there is a purpose to my still being alive, then I cannot allow myself to die now!"

Tension filled the air around him and, the next moment, there was a thunderclap. Before his reserves could be drained from him, he unleashed a blast of lightning centred around himself. Not a halfhearted attack, but one filled with the resolution to kill. This was one thing Hatsuyo could not defend against; she was blasted away, although she had jumped back just in time to avoid the full brunt of it.

"Kh...!" Her back hit a wall with a resounding thud but she made a visible effort to stay on her legs. "You're finally making some damn sense..."

She moved to intercept him but this opening had been all Savrance needed: he rushed back into the shadow of a street. The scorching sensation disappeared but he was not saved quite yet: a bit of shade wouldn't reverse the damage he had already received. He reached inside his armour and grabbed something from the fabric of his clothes. It was an emergency ration of blood, something he kept with him in case his bloodthirst got the better of him while he was around the other Masters of White.

It was quite a pitiful amount compared to what he needed but he was in no position to complain – after all, the only other source of blood in the viscinity was coming at him sword in hand.

With his energy somewhat resplenished, Savrance met her blade with his own. They seemed to be evenly matched now, despite his precarious situation and her power boost. That wasn't only thanks to his emergency blood – this newfound conviction was giving him strength. It made him desire victory. During the next clash of their swords, he overpowered Hastuyo and sent her flying.

Still she did not lose her composure and her eyes were sharp as ever. Pulling a feint she managed to slice his eyes – that was no detriment to him though, he could detect her every movement with smell and sound alone. After deflecting her katana, Savrance delivered a powerful kick right into her stomach; if not for her light armour, he could have ruptured her organs. His opponent was sent rolling away again with her lung emptied of air and struggling to keep the content of her stomach inside.

Savrance had no more hesitation. Their dynamic had returned to what it had been at the start of their battle, with the exception that he was allowing her no respite.

Channeling electricity through his sword, he made an easily detectable swing at her with the intention of electrocuting her through her own weapon. But since he had shown that trick before, she knew to look out for it and jumped out of his reach instead. Since that was the case, he instead unleashed his thunder around him, which she only escaped by hiding behind a corner.

Even though he was giving her little leeway, Hatsuyo was still making her best effort to keep the battle from moving deeper into the City. Savrance wasn't fooled, he realized full well that she intended to send him back under the sun. He wouldn't allow it to happen a second time though.

If she had accepted to get away from the Ark's edge, she wouldn't have been cornered this easily. Her stubbornness in clinging to the only strategy she knew was what spelled her defeat. This battle was now headed toward its conclusion: after backing her against a wall, Savrance managed to knock her weapon out of her hands with a strong blow.

However, he had been a bit hasty in deeming her harmless: abruptly, Hatsuyo's fist buried itself in his face.

It hadn't been a hazardous punch thrown in the throes of despair; her body was in proper martial form and she had delivered that hit by using his momentum against him. The next second, another punch followed which hit him hard in the corner of his chin. Finally, she repelled him with her knee. Unfortunately for her, Savrance was barely affected, only surprised. She was showing signs of mental fatigue as well: even though she had successfully pushed him back, instead of using that opportunity to get away she bent over to pick up her katana.

Her back was fully exposed.

Savrance raised his sword abovehead; even if her back was also protected by armour, he could break through it with enough strength. And even if he didn't manage to, the impact alone would knock her down and he could finish her.

And so, he swung his blade down on her back with all his strength.

Clang–!

"...! What...!"

The one taken short was him, however.

When his sword hit her back, something hard stopped his blade. The coat she wore covered her armour, so at first he believed it to be the one responsible, but this was even sturdier. He had noticed before that there was a strange shape in her back but he had paid it no mind – as it turned out, what she had hit was a long, metallic object.

But that wasn't what surprised him the most: despite the violence of the blow, Hatsuyo had not bent nor had she fallen to her knees – she had resisted it as though she had expected it.

No, not 'as though'.

"Finally fell for it, damn it." She clicked her tongue.

Savance realized he had been had. It was then that he also noticed her hand was not picking up her sword; she had grabbed his ankle. Swiftly, she also latched onto his shoulder with her other hand.

And finally, she put her feet against the wall.

"Say..."

He understood too late: the direction she was facing, the one he was turning his back to, was the edge of the ship.

"...can vampires fly?"

Hatsuyo used the wall as a support and launched herself with all her might. Savrance was trapped in her clutches and propelled alongside her. She had lept with such strength that, in no time flat, they left the shadows and entered the light once again. When she had no more momentum from jumping, Hatsuyo put her feet on the ground and sprinted while lifting Savrance above her. In his panic, all the vampire thought of doing was to swing his sword, but the only thing he could hit was her back which was still protected.

Then, when they were near the large railing of the Ark, Hatsuyo hurled him with a grunt of effort.

Savrance still had a chance.

When he felt his body being thrown, he hurriedly held his hand out toward the railing. This had been a right call to make: he successfully caught himself on the corner and avoided passing overboard.

"No you don't!"

Hatsuyo swung her fist down on his hand and crushed his fingers.

Savrance fell off the Ark.

Sunlight wasn't the only weakness a vampire had: water could be extremely problematic. Forget being able to fly – if he fell down into the sea, he would sink. That wouldn't kill him immediatly but at that point this was a superfluous detail. Even as he was plumetting along the Ark's tall, white hull, his movement were already growing sluggish.

It took all the tenacity he could muster in order to cling to the hull and slow down his fall. That was nothing to rejoice over, however: even if he didn't fall into the ocean below, the sun was still casting its scorching light on him. This time, there was absolutely no shade anywhere near him.

His forces were draining.

He didn't have the strength to pull himself back up on the Ark.

In his mind, all he could think was whether he wanted to drown and wait until his body broke down at the bottom of the sea, or if he would rather be reduced in cinder right where he stood.

However, the flame within him was not extinguished quite yet.

Desperately, he looked around for any miracle, any possible way to get out of this situation. There had to be one. Could he really have lived through this tortuous life only so he could realize at the very end how unsatisfied he truly was? Did all the lives consumed to get here not amount to more than this pathetic death?

(Not yet... ... ... Not... yet...!)

Then, finally, he found hope.

Either through luck or through fate, a ship made of pure gold was stabbed into the side of the Ark, a mere few hundred metres away from him. He knew just how much damage it had caused to the hull and part of the City; there lied his very last chance to live a little longer.

With all of the energy he had left, as well as the force of despair, Savrance dragged himself across the Ark's hull and toward Neo Helios.

* Stop music

Hatsuyo let out a long, weary sigh.

That vampire didn't seem like he was coming back up. She didn't peek over the railing to check; in her state, she was afraid she might give out and fall over by accident. At any rate, this battle was over. Her mind acknowledged it but her body was still on the alert and refused to settle down. She was used to it though; it would take a bit of time for it to relax.

She had just come out of the hardest battle she had ever fought, after all.

So this was the feeling of truly fighting for her life. Not a one-sided massacre but a proper battle where any mistake could end up being the last. It was the kind of situation this power had been made for... the kind of battle Hatsuyo Toriyama was meant to wage.

"..."

She didn't feel anything though.

There was no real satisfaction safe for the short-lived relief of victory. It really wasn't a power meant to make anyone happy, in the end...

But Savrance really wasn't returning and this fight was over, so she shook her head and stopped thinking about it.

Although...

'If there is a purpose to my still being alive, then I cannot allow myself to die now!'

"...Took the words right out of my mouth."

She turned her back to the sea and walked back to where she had been fighting Savrance earlier. Every part of her body was aching. That was the price for so many strengthenings in such a short time. It was nothing compared to her headaches, so she could bear with it.

She spotted her sword laying down on the floor, next to the wall where everything had been decided.

This reminded her:

"Goddamn uncomfortable..." She pulled Volündr's gift out of her coat and set it aside. The fabric was torn where Savrance had struck but the content was intact. It was her only possession aside from her katana, so she had been carrying it out of necessity. "It was surprisingly useful."

With that said, she finally picked up her sword and put it back in its sheath. This accursed sword, it seemed to her, was reproaching her for dropping and abandoning it.

"Shut up. Don't piss me off."

She should go find Lancer now; he should have had more than enough time to deal with their own problem. While she thought this, Hatsuyo heard a single pair of footsteps approaching.

For a second, she thought it might be Lancer who came to find her instead, but her body sized up: she knew that pace.

The footsteps stopped and she could hear someone breathing heavily.

"...You..." She turned around and found him standing there, staring at her. "Why did you come here...?"

Leo took a second to regain his breath.

Then, he waved his hand:

"Yo."

Thank you for reading.

For the record, the scale found inside the Treasure Golem is the same Chris and Ashurbanipal used to cook.

~Legends Storyteller