I stared at the sight in a mixture of shock and horror. I had always known that, at the end of the day, short of using a Command Seal, a Master could always run the risk of being betrayed by their Servant. Obviously, that had yet to happen to either Ritsuka or I, and hopefully, will never happen.
But as many have come to learn throughout the centuries, knowing of the possibility of something happening and seeing that very thing happening before your eyes were two entirely different beasts. Next to me, with her helmet now retracted, I could see the look of utter disgust in Mordred's eyes. Some might comment about it being ironic that the supposed 'Knight of Treachery' would be repulsed by seeing someone else commit that every act.
I knew better than most.
"Ugh," Blackbeard groaned, coughing up a wad of blood as he stared incredulously at his attacker.
"What?" Mash said numbly, looking as horrified as I felt.
"Teach!" Drake shouted, for some reason using Blackbeard's last name instead of his moniker. She pointed both pistols at the Lancer, looking absolutely murderous. "Dammit, you…to your own comrade?!" The Lancer shrugged off Drake's ire, a pleased expression on his face as he yanked out his spear.
"Well, you finally let your guard down, Captain," the treacherous Servant remarked in an off-putting, light-hearted tone. As if he had just spilt a drink on Blackbeard's chest during dinner, and not surrounded by several Servants. "I mean, you act totally carefree, but wherever I saw you, you're always gripping that pistol of yours warily. This old man's truly impressed. After all, a genius who acts like a moron is more troublesome than a moron calling themselves a genius."
"I see," Blackbeard groaned sadly, clutching the new injury as he stumbled towards the nearest section of railing. He leaned against it, struggling to stay on his feet now. "So that's why…I couldn't read your true thoughts…but betraying me under these circumstances?" Blackbeard said incredulously, grinning at his former subordinate. "Mistah Hector, are you an idiot?"
"Hector?!" Mash said. It took me a moment, but then it clicked. Hector was a rather uncommon name, even though it had belonged once to one of the most famous figures in Homeric legends. The legendry defender of the city that had been placed under siege for ten years. Prince Hector of Troy. Hector scoffed, rolling his eyes.
"Oh, please, this old man's doing it knowing there's more than a fair chance to succeed. Alright, Captain, I'll be taking your Holy Grail with me now!" The Lancer said, extending his empty hand. The familiar shape of one of Lev's Holy Grails appeared in his hand.
"The Grail…" Mash said, breathing in sharply. "Edward Teach was the Singularity for this era?" Not for much longer, it seems. My eyes narrowed, and I couldn't help but tremble in anger. I wasn't the only one to do so, either.
"You dare mock me?!" Blackbeard roared furiously, pushing off the railing, his anger re-energizing the dying Servant. Hector moved out of Blackbeard's reach, however, and a moment later, the mortally-injured pirate fell down onto one knee. One hand pounded the wooden deck of the Queen Anne's Revenge, and I vaguely registered that it seemed like the fighting that had been going on around us was starting to wind down. "I screwed up…" Blackbeard moaned pitifully. Hector shook his head, turning towards Drake.
"Now, all that's left to deal with is you, Francis Drake," the Lancer said, before shaking his head sadly. "Sheesh, what a pain. The plan was for us to let the Holy Grail fall into an idiot's hands, causing this era to fall apart. I can't believe that a voyager who exists only to stop that would appear, though! The Naval Chart of Mankind sure walks on a tightrope."
"We?" I muttered softly. So, Hector wasn't working on his own, then? Clenching the hilt of Clarent tightly, Mordred growled angrily. Before she could ask for (or in this case, demand) her next set of instructions, I continued speaking, louder this time.
"Let's finish him off, once and for all, Mordred!"
"You got it!"
"Defeat him, Mash, Nero!" Rits shouted out at the same time.
"I won't allow it!" Mash said in response, addressing Hector resolutely. Nero nodded solemnly next to her, adopting her primary fighting stance.
"Umu, it will be done, Viceroy!"
The trio of warriors charged forward, while at the same time, Drake fired both of her pistols. But then, in a blink of an eye, Hector leapt to the side.
"What?" Mash said in shock, skidding to a halt. My eyes widened as I saw that he had jumped towards the Golden Hind.
"What the hell is he doing?" Mordred spat. Landing on his feet, Hector waved at us mockingly, hooking the Grail to his belt.
"Just kidding," he shouted. "I don't care one bit about the correct Holy Grail. In addition to retrieving Blackbeard's Grail, I had one other task: collecting her," he said, gesturing at a nervous-looking Euryale.
"Eek!" Yelped the gorgon, wide-eyed. The Archer was only a few yards away from the taller Servant, and she began backing away rapidly even as Lu Bu and Asterios both began to make their way cautiously towards the bow, bellowing their battle cries.
"Euryale!" Ritsuka called out as Hector grabbed her with his free hand. Then, the Lancer picked up the light-weight gorgon, while at the same time aiming his spear at the two now rapidly-approaching Berserkers.
"Hey! Let me go! Someone, help me!" She shrieked, kicking and squirming as violently as she could.
"Please behave," Hector said chidingly. I frowned. The Lancer was trapped. How the hell did he plan on escaping? Surely, he wasn't foolish enough to think that he could take on sixteen Servants on his own?
'Master! There's a small ship approaching rapidly! I tried to stop them, but it looks like a Caster enchanted both the ship and crew!' Astolfo suddenly said frantically, utilizing the rarely-used (at least for Ritsuka and I) method of telepathic communication. My eyes widened.
"Shit. Stop him!" I roared. "He's got friends approaching in a getaway vessel!" Hector laughed, delivering the final confirmation needed to prove my words correct.
"Indeed. I had been waiting for a chance to betray him," Hector said before pausing, barking out a brief bout of humorless laughter. "Ha, how ironic! I suppose you could call me a Trojan Horse in this case."
"Let her gooooooo!" Asterios roared, finally within weapon's reach of Hector. Lu Bu, while not as articulate, roared in agreement, swinging his massive halberd viciously. Hector side-stepped my Berserker's attack, while using his spear's reinforced metal shaft to block Asterios's twin axes, even though he was only able to wield his own weapon with a single hand.
"Whoa! You're both dangerous ones, alright!" Hector grunted. Despite the situation, however, it sounded as if he was unbothered by being attacked simultaneously by two Berserkers. "Minotaur, huh? A combination that is truly beauty and the beast."
"Euryale!" Asterios roared loud enough that I was left with a faint ringing sensation in my ears, despite the distance between us. He swung both of his massive battleaxes, the right swinging downwards while the left swung horizontally, along Hector's waistline.
The Lancer calmly sidestepped the vertical attack, before managing to deflect the horizontal attack with the flat of the sword-like tip of his weapon.
"Still," Hector grunted, and I watched nervously as he subtly shifted his stance as Asterios readied himself for yet another attack, and this time it would be with the aid of Lu Bu. "This old man hasn't fallen so far as to be defeated by measly Berserkers!" Then, for the first time since the start of our rematch with Blackbeard, Hector attacked, using the same lighting speed with which he had used to almost kill me.
My mouth fell open in horror as the green-clad Lancer thrusted forward with his spear at just the right moment, where Asterios would be unable to use either the blades or the shafts of his weapons to protect his unarmored chest.
"Ugh!" Asterios cried out as the tip of Hector's spear went all the way down to the sword-like cross guard. Lu Bu roared angrily, rapidly twirling his own polearm with surprising grace for a Berserker as he hurried to assist a once-more wounded Asterios.
Hector appeared to be unworried, and I released a muffled curse as the Lancer first managed to deflect the halberd being swung at him. Then, he somehow managed to knock Lu Bu off of his feet, and the Golden Hind shook slightly from the impact. Thankfully, though, the now prone Lu Bu hadn't plunged through the wooden deck. However, now both of our Berserkers were vulnerable, and I watched helplessly as Hector raised his spear over his head, ready to impale the Chinese Berserker's heart.
"Asterios!"
"Lu Bu!" Euryale and I shouted simultaneously, before I heard a flintlock being triggered close to me. A second later, my ears were ringing again as someone's gun was fire, and the ball of lead slammed into Hector's unprotected left shoulder in the nick of time. The impact sent the Trojan prince stumbling to the side, away from both Asterios and Lu Bu, though he still had Euryale trapped under one arm.
Quickly turning around to the others, I opened my mouth to thank Drake for saving my Servant, only to notice that the one holding the pistol was a bloodied Edward Teach. For a dying Servant, Blackbeard was one stubborn asshole. And for the first time ever, I was completely okay with it.
"Ha! Take that, Hector!" The face of the Servant in question began to twitch violently, and some of Drake's crewmates who had remained on the Golden Hind hurriedly began to drag the two Berserkers away from Hector.
"Hey now, Captain, you're still alive there?" Hector said in his typical nonchalant manner, though this time I could detect a trace of either ranger or frustration just underneath his words. Blackbeard cackled manically.
"Hee hee hee. It's the power of love!" Now it was my own face that was twitching, but I bit down on my tongue. Blackbeard then groaned and slumped against the railing once more. "Just kidding. Afraid that was my final blow. Too bad I missed your head."
"Bah! A nuisance to the last, Captain! But it doesn't matter. I've achieved my objectives, and it looks like my ride is here!" Cursing, I was finally able to see the ship that Astolfo had warned me about. My eyes quickly ran over it, taking in as much detail as possible.
The design was of a galley, combining the ancient propulsion methods of sails and oars into one neat, effective package. The design looked like one from the later stages of the Age of Sail, a contemporary perhaps of the ships of Drake's own era. There were three masts, each one having a triangular-shaped sail attached, in contrast to the squarish shape of the sails of Drake's galleon. The rowing deck was completely protected, meaning that the only two reliable methods of disabling the oar banks would be to either board the ship and kill the oarsmen or fire as many cannonballs into the hull of the ship and hope that they take out the majority of the sailors required to operate the oars. There was one last thing that I immediately noticed about the ship design itself. Curiously, the deck lacked any cannon mountings on either the sides or directly ahead.
It seemed to be a vessel designed more for speed than for fighting. Astolfo's warning about the crew being enhanced somehow (no doubt through the works of either a mage or, ever worse, a Caster or other type of Servant) drifted around in the back of my mind, and my eyes widened slightly.
While being enhanced meant that the sailors manning the getaway vessel would be stronger and tougher than the average pirate among Drake's crew, that same endurance could translate into having crew members operating the oars at a faster and longer rate before tiring.
Then, I noticed the insignia that had been painted over the main sail. While the edges of each of the three sails had been embroidered with some sort of intricate geometric pattern, I dismissed them as holding no real significance. Rather, it was in the center that had drawn my attention. Showing oof proudly was a stylized depiction of a ram's coat, colored a rich and brilliant shade of pure gold, in a field of pure white. While it was obvious an important sign, I couldn't figure out who it belonged to. Certainly not any of the various pirate captains of either Drake's or Blackbeard's eras.
"No…" Medea said sharply, standing nearby on the deck of the Golden Hind. I whirled to look at her, intent on demanding if the Greek Caster recognizes the image, but the words die in my throat as my gaze came across her. Medea looked beyond livid. Her teeth were tightly clenched, her fists curled, shoulders raised. Though I couldn't see the look in her eyes due to that cowl of hers that she almost always kept raised, I couldn't help but suspect that if I were to see them, they would have a hellish fire dancing in them.
The sheer aura of malice was almost choking, so much so I actually stepped away, and I wasn't the only one. However, right now, Medea's anger was quite frankly the least of our concerns, as I was reminded by the shrill, panicked cry of alarm that Hector's captive was making.
"Asterios!" Euryale cried out, and the wounded Berserker tried to stand back up, only to slump to the ground. I gritted my teeth as I heard the humorless, though not cruel, laughter that escaped past Hector's lips. The Lancer's body had tensed up, indicating that he was about to jump off the Hind.
"Too bad, pirates!" Hector said mockingly, before leaping off the bowsprit of the Golden Hind, and landing on the deck of the smaller ship, with Euryale kicking and screaming helplessly. Before any sort of grappling hooks could be tossed onto the enemy ship, the galley had pulled away, sails unfurled while below deck the rowers moved their oars back and forth as fast as they apparently could.
I cursed under my breath, before the distressed-filled voice of Astolfo echoed in my head as my eccentric Rider circled overhead. 'Master, I'm sorry. The crew manning the vessel have been enhanced somehow.'
'It doesn't matter now, Astolfo. You did the best you could. For now, just follow them as close as you can, and report on their movements, and if we're going to be sailing into another ambush.' I communicated calmly. I could feel the sheer relief Astolfo felt at my words, and with a final salute, my Rider headed off in the direction of the retreating galley.
I turned back, noticing that now, aside from Blackbeard himself, the only ones standing on the main deck of the wrecked Queen Anne's Revenge were Drake and her boarding party, Ritsuka, Mash, Mordred, our Servants, and myself.
"Blackbeard's subordinates…vanished?" Mash asked aloud, looking around quizzically. Once more, as if on que, her wrist-mounted commlink gave off a soft chime, and the Demi-Servant answered it.
"They were created by Blackbeard's magical energy given to him by that Grail. Now, with said Grail no longer in his possession, they can't be maintained," Doctor Roman hurried explained to us. The acting-director then paused for a moment. "Even though it seems that the Servant himself appears to still be full of energy, despite the scope of his injuries."
Blackbeard responded to Roman's comment with a mournful chuckle, shaking his head slightly. The dying Rider's body was starting to dissolve like all his (mostly loyal) subordinates had, but even to his last, he appeared fixated on Drake. He pointed towards her, just as the scarred pirate had ordered her crew to return to the Golden Hind.
"Hey everybody, it's almost time for us to say good-bye! That was one hell of a fight, but don't you dare think you won, you old hag! You got that?" Blackbeard said, pouting furiously. Drake shook her hand dismissively.
"Yeah, yeah," Drake said in a tone that sounded vaguely taunting. "The more you talk, the more you sound like a sore loser. Hurry up and begone, Edward Teach. It must be hard for you to breath right now, let alone stand."
"Damn you." Shaking his head mournfully once more, Blackbeard adopted a small, lopsided smile. "You're being nice to me…makes my heart flutter. If we were under better circumstances, I'd say 'marry me, I'll make you happy', or something along those lines. I mean, you've been single since you were born, no?"
Drake's face exploded into red, but instead of it being anger this time, I would swear on my dying breath that for the first time ever, Captain Francis Drake looked absolutely mortified. To be fair, if it was me who Blackbeard was flirting with, I'd probably have a rather similar reaction.
"I've had of your ramblings, nitwit!" A flustered Drake all but roared. "Hurry up and kick the bucket, damn it!"
Now just little more than a head and torso, Blackbeard threw his head back to laugh one last time. "Hahaha! What a nice insult! Now that I'm satisfied, it's time to die! At least this time, I won't be beheaded! Why am I dying satisfied, you might ask? Because I am the greatest pirate of all time! I'm a merry pirate, and thus shall die as one! My only regret is that I couldn't create that harem I've long dreamt of, but I still had fun! I approve!"
I couldn't tell if I should have felt more irritated or confused by Blackbeard's final ramblings, but I finally settled on both. Couldn't he just die a little faster? I mean, it's not as if we had to chase down his last, former subordinate and rescue our comrade or anything, ya know?
Heedless of the delay he was causing, or perhaps simply not caring, Blackbeard tilted his head slightly to look at Drake once last time. "Oh, one last thing, old hag. Don't you need a story route where I'm revived? Wouldn't it be great if that happened to me, I did so with a line like, 'It's been decided, I'm the one who will defeat you!' or something like that?"
"Just die already!" Drake and several others shouted out at once. "Can you take any longer to do so?"
"Well, fine. Ha, fine and dandy. It's all fine and dandy. Fandy and dine! She is present at Blackbeard's deathbed, and he keeps his head intact for once! Then, farewell humanity! Farewell pirates! And so, Blackbeard draws his last breath!" His laughter echoing across the now (relatively) quiet ocean, Blackbeard finally died again.
"Next time an enemy Servant does something like that as they're dying, I'm cutting their fucking head off!" Mordred spat, looking restless. I grunted in agreement.
"I'll help," I said softly, before hearing Drake sigh softly.
"In the end, Teach, you and I are both headed to hell. We pay for our misdeeds with disgrace and shame, like true pirates." Before I could ask her what she meant with those words, the Queen Anne's Revenge gave off a violent shudder. Though the main mast had already been removed by the explosion Artemis and Orion had caused at the start of the battle, now the remaining masts fell into the water, thankfully on the side opposite of where the Golden Hind was still wedged against.
Now that Blackbeard had been sent back to the Throne of Heroes, he could no longer support his Noble Phantasm. As a result, the ship was breaking apart.
"The ship's collapsing," Mash reported, rather a bit unnecessary. "Let's go!"
Less than a minute later, and I watched as the last of the Queen Anne's Revenge fade away. Only a few pieces of broken wood remained, and even those were vanishing. "And so thus ends our tale with Blackbeard," I said, before my eyes widened. I shook my head, chasing away that line. There's no way in hell that I'm about to be infected with Blackbeard's inanity!
Towards the stern, I could hear Drake shouting out orders, and I looked back to see her with a thunderous expression on her face.
"All hands, to your posts! Let's retrieve our comrade!" Drake shouted, slamming her hands on the railing as she stood near the ship's wheel. Bombe and the rest of Drake's crew began shouting and bustling back and forth, moving as rapidly as possible to do their part in bring the Golden Hind to her top speed.
"That sneaky rat bastard," Mordred seethed, her shoulders rising and falling as she glared at distant galley. "I'm going to make that Lancer rue the day that he slipped out of his mother's womb!" I couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at Mordred's vitriol, but I didn't comment.
Truth be told, she had every right to be angry, and quite frankly, so was I. It took a surprising degree of restraint to keep my head in the game. I grunted softly, and Mordred looked at me, her features softening slightly as well.
"'We.'"
"Jacob?" Mordred asked softly.
"Hector said 'we'. Seeing as how he just betrayed Blackbeard, I highly doubt he was referring to the Rider." I watched as Mordred's eyes widened slightly in response to my explanation.
"Meaning that the bastard is under the command of someone else?"
"Yes. The question now, then, is who that person or people are. I have a feeling that what we just finished, boarding Blackbeard's ship and all? I feel like that is going to be the easiest part of today." Mordred clapped me 'gently' on the back, almost causing me to stumble forward from her strength. She had that cocky smirk of hers on full display.
"Just stay close to me, where I can keep an eye on you," she said, and I tilted my head towards her in agreement.
"Remind me to never wish to go on a ship on the ocean during a Rayshift deployment," I muttered, and Mordred huffed in dry amusement.
"Ditto. It restricts a lot of my attacks. The others, too. If I could have used Clarent Blood Arthur, that Lancer would've been dead by now!"
I nodded, though internally I was not in full agreement. In the Iliad, Hector had been portrayed as a wise, resourceful, and strong warrior. He met his death not on the typical field of battle, but in a one-on-one fight with the mighty Achilles in the final year of the war, after Hector had slain Achilles's closest friend, and in some commentaries, lover, Patroclus. During an attack on the Greek encampment, during which Achilles had obstinately refused to partake in the defense, Patroclus clad himself in the armor of Achilles, had had taken to the field of battle. Hector had seen the young man, mistaking him for Achilles, not realizing his mistake until after mortally wounding Patroclus.
In response, Achilles went into a bloodthirsty rage, eventually killing Hector, and then in an act of belittlement, tied the corpse of the fallen Trojan prince to the back of his chariot, and dragged the body back and forth before the gates of Troy, in full sight of the horrified citizens Hector had fought so dearly to protect.
Even though I couldn't dissuade her from focusing on taking the Lancer down the next time we cornered him, I suspected she knew that she was going to be in one hell of a fight. Hopefully that time, though, will feature a chance for her to fight at her best, with no need to fully restrain herself.
A sharp cry had me looking back over my shoulder, reminding me of yet another troubled Servant.
"Eu..ry…ale.." Asterios moaned, slumped against the railing and clutching his gut wound as Medea briskly began to heal him in silence. I reached out and cautiously rested a hand on the injured Berserker's shoulder, and he looked up at me.
"Don't worry buddy, we're going to save her. You'll be back with Euryale before you know it."
"Hmm…" Asterios grunted in what seemed to be a rather noncommittal manner, before closing his eyes. I walked over and leaned against the forecastle of the Hind, my jaw clenched, Mordred standing loyally by my side, looking equally tense as we both watched the faint outline of Hector's ship.
"We better, at least…"
Original Endnotes: And done! What did y'all think? Good, bad? Honestly, not much else to say, mainly because I am bouncing off the walls in excitement for what's about to happen in three chapters or so!
Now, for the question(s) of the chapter! What are your thoughts about Hector, both personality-wise and in fights?
As always, thanks for reading and for sticking to this story! I hope you enjoyed the chapter, and eagerly await y'alls feedback! Have a wonderful day, and see you guys and gals in the next chapter!
Updated Endnotes 12/20/21: Please stay safe and warm this month. If you want to skip the wait, the more up-to-date copy of my story is on Archive of Our Own, with Chapter 144 having been posted yesterday. Hope you enjoyed today's update, and see y'all next time