Fourth Night (4)
"On your left, Saber!"
Responding to Cú Chulainn's warning the swordswoman narrowly avoided a sweep of the Knight of Fianna's golden spear, blade narrowly missing her flank as she took the more direct approach of slamming her smaller frame into the taller Lancer's chest, knocking him back a step and allowing her to once more engage with Excalibur, the blue-haired spear wielder darting past her side to expertly deflect a swing of Berserker's oversized flail, the metal ball angled away from where it would have flattened the pair of them and instead erasing an entire storefront in a spray of sheetrock, wood and tourist memorabilia.
"Out of my way, Hound! You have no business here!"
Diarmuid's vitriol-filled words simply bounced off of Cú Chulainn's happy grin, the more famous Irish Hero cackling as he replied, "Battle is my business, as a fellow countryman I figured you would have understood that!"
"My goal is Saber and-"
"GGRRRAAAAAHHHHH!"
The spear-wielders interplay was brought to an end as they all leaped into the air, avoiding a ground sweep of Berserker's weapon that cared little for friend or foe, the missed strike ripping into a gas station and causing gasoline to spray wildly into the air, alighting once it reached the fast approaching fires and adding it's own brand of greasy smoke to the conflagration raging all around them.
"Yes, YES! Truly, this Hell will make a fine stage for my dear Jeanne's fall from grace! ARE YOU HERE, GOD?!"
Arturia and Cú Chulainn expertly alighted on the ground next to each other, the Lancer grumbling, "Is this guy sexually repressed or something?"
"I wouldn't hazard a guess what manner of repressment has stricken the crazed fool. Shall we-"
Haunting screeches filled the streets as yet another wave of grasping demons wound their way towards the Servant pair-
-and as mist once more descended over them only pieces of demonic beast came close, Lancer snickering as he said, "I thought she was kinda creepy at first, but I'll admit it. Tiny and lethal is growing on me."
"Of course she is. You enjoy anything that's violent and aggressive."
"Sure explains why I get along with you, now doesn't it?"
"What?! You-"
CRACK!
Their argument was cut short as one of the towering buildings of downtown Fuyuki became dangerously stressed, the pair of battling monstrosities that had appeared not more than a minute ago smashing into it with the fury of sentient mountains, the massive structure showering glass on the ground below as it slowly began to topple, dust and debris kicked up in a flaming cloud as the mud encroached upon its foundations.
"I think we should run."
Saber didn't argue, matching Lancer's pace as they cleared the streets, fragments of destruction and broken masonry collapsing all around them with an echoing shriek as they sprinted out of the immediate zone of danger...only to find a wall of fiery corpses blocking their path, Diarmuid, Lancelot and Gilles-carried by a wall of undulating flesh-closing in on them from behind.
"Lancer, we need to find a way to end this. We're only being pushed from one end of a rapidly collapsing city to another."
"Hey, I'm open to ideas here. You want to try firing off that big ass sword beam of yours towards the portal?"
"I don't think they would be so kind as to allow me the time to gather the necessary power. And as much faith as I hold in your abilities related to combat, I don't think you're capable of fending off all of these foes of ours."
Cú Chulainn eyed the closing wall of corpses intermixed with madly grinning Servants, grumbling, "Harsh, but true. Yo, Assassin, got any ideas?"
Materializing on the top of the man's shoulders the tiny girl pouted, "We jut stab and cut things, thinking is hard..."
"Yah, dunno why I thought you would have a solution."
Saber tensed, eyes scanning the terrain as she murmured, "Does anyone else hear that? Because in all honesty I'm not looking forward to yet another unpleasant reunion from the past."
Lancer and Assassin followed her suggestion, heads cocking and slowly rotating in an identical fashion that, despite the dire straits they were currently in, had Saber cracking a smile. Like a pair of particularly strange owls.
"The heck is that? A chariot?"
What small trace of levity present dissipated from her countenance, Saber sighing as she readjusted her grip on Excalibur.
"Prepare yourselves, we're about to-"
BANG!
With yet another bit of property annihilated a large, oxen-drawn chariot came into view, carrying a familiar face that Saber dearly wished she could have met under more amicable circumstances, now that she had been given time to think on Rider's words.
"AHA HAH HAH! Well if it isn't the Little Girl, playing at being a King! Have you finally opened your eyes to the beauty of conquest, Saber?!"
The King of Britain could only stare at Rider with clear regret and sorrow.
For all her disagreements and grudges with the King of Conquerors-from their ideas on kingship and how to lead to his aspersions of her character-she would have easily admitted to him being a charismatic and successful ruler, deserving of his myth as one of the most famous Heroic Spirits.
The corrupted man before her was a twisted parody of the qualities she had respected.
The proud chariot and oxen were splattered with gore and viscera where they had run down fleeing civilians, spokes decorated with bodies of all ages and genders. Kingly and boisterous features now sported a grin of madness, impassioned desire to test the limits of what a single individual could accomplish now dancing with a primal lust for blood and conquest.
"That you speak of beauty as you are now is a joke in the poorest of tastes, Iskandar. To think, you were once someone both the King of Heroes and I, to an extent, considered an equal of one manner or another."
"BAH! Still the simple and confused little girl you were back then, Saber! The freedom of conquest is greatest when there is no limit, no act too great or bloody to perform! Victory at any and all cost, until the world is beneath my feet! Now, my fellows...I come bearing gifts!"
Reaching into the back of his chariot he tossed a pair of long, dark instruments with trailing belts of metal to Lancelot, the Servant dropping the ball and chain in favor of grasping the objects with almost eager motions.
"Retrieved from a nearby museum detailing one of the greatest acts of conquest in this world's history, World War II! Make use of them, mad warrior! HAH HAH HAH!"
Saber's green eyes widened as Lancelot slowly wrapped the belts-ammunition belts-around his shoulders.
"Uhh, Arturia? Why is the information I got from the Grail causing my asshole to pucker at the sight in front of me?"
"Yeah, what Spearguy said."
Slow, deliberate racks of each gun's slide created ominous echoes across the broken hellscape as angry lines of red spread over their exteriors.
"Because we should be very afraid."
The pair of M2 Browning light machine guns were aimed in their direction.
"We should also run."
"AARRRTTTHUUUURRRR!"
A surge of her prana burst ability slammed the King of Knights into Lancer and Assassin, bodily grabbing them as she blitzed past the ring of zombies fast enough that they flew apart in a tangled mess of limbs, the percussive blasts of flying metal and hiss of narrow misses entirely too close for comfort.
Thankfully they rounded the corner and she was able to release the other pair of Servants...not that they stopped running, Lancelot's guns quickly chewing through the solid concrete and metal building like a hot knife through butter.
Saber couldn't help but wince as she remembered the climax of the last war, how the Knight had used a much smaller gun to chew apart a vehicle within seconds...granted, it wasn't the more powerful weapon she had destroyed-that had annihilated vehicles with one projectile-but these new weapons struck an entirelyundesirable mix between power and rate of fire, only the presence of a second building finally managing to halt the barrage.
"You know, that display right there makes me kinda glad Heroic Spirits of the modern age are hard to come by. Guns suck."
Finding herself agreeing with Lancer as Assassin mewled, "Spearguy, Swordlady, our ears hurt..." Arturia glanced around, mind rapidly trying to suss out a plan of action-
-and Rider's chariot sped around the corner, trampling aside a semi as he snapped the reigns and hollered in bloodthirsty mirth.
All while Lancelot rode atop the bulls with perfect balance, guns at the ready as his legs spread akimbo...in much the same manner as his guns.
The trio of Servants didn't waste their breath, turning and running at a breakneck pace as the air was once again filled with percussive noise and hot lead.
The armed chariot was bad enough, but now Caster and Diarmuid had also rejoined the fray, the Lancer bounding alongside them just waiting for an opportunity to strike while Gilles' monsters began to close in from all directions, heedless of Lancelot's gunfire.
"GONNA BE REAL WITH YOU, SABER! I'D RATHER BE TIED TO THAT FUCKING ROCK WITH A WET SAUSAGE FOR A WEAPON THAN BE HERE RIGHT NOW!"
Cú Chulainn's aggravated shout caused Saber to grunt, a brief line of pain shooting up her leg as a round struck dangerously close to home, a line of red now adorning her skin.
She never thought the day would come when, in all honesty, Camlann didn't seem that bad compared to current circumstances...at least Mordred hadn't come equipped with modern day weaponry that would have erased an entire line of mounted knights with a single damned sweep!
"YOU MAY RUN NO FURTHER, JEANNE~!"
Right on cue with Caster's crazed words a wall of literal flesh rose up before them, snapping teeth and tendrils cutting off their frenzied escape route as Saber knew they were faced with a choice. Either slow down and gather the necessary strength to blow apart the barricade, or risk running full speed into it and hope their momentum proved to be enough.
...She carried little confidence in the latter option, knowing from firsthand experience just how deceptively strong Caster's monsters were. Her eyes met Cú Chulainn's and Assassin's, the three of them instinctively knowing what their decision would be.
Stand and fight against overwhelming odds, a range disadvantage and a resources disadvantage. After all, they were still tied to their Masters and a finite amount of prana.
...But there was no choice.
As one the trio skid to a halt, facing down Iskandar's chariot as Lancelot shifted his aim, barrels lining up with his targets-
"Get em' Berserker!"
-and a rush of air alongside titanic WHAM coincided with the bulls flying off to the side and into a building with pained bleats, the chariot following suit with a splintering of wood while Lancelot howled with thwarted rage.
"Herakles?!"
Standing proud from where the Greek Hero had battered aside Iskandar's vehicle the towering Servant roared with triumph, Saber gawking as a youthful appearing albino girl leapt down from his shoulder.
"I-Illyasviel?!"
Now appearing in the range of fourteen or fifteen years of age and sporting armor that was oddly reminiscent of Archer's the Homunculus offered the trio of stunned Servants a cheerful smile.
"Nice to see you again, Saber~! You looked like you could use some help."
"I suppose we could. What happened in the past few hours, you didn't-"
"No offense, Saber...but maybe we should hold of on questions until we're out of immediate danger of dying."
Lancer's words were sound and the King of Knights held her tongue, especially as a familiar roar echoed alongside the sound of a fist impacting solid bone, their eyes widening as Lancelot leapt out of the ruined building and punched Herakles across the face.
None of them could decide what was more impressive, the guts it took to perform such an insane maneuver-even by the standards of a Berserker-or the fact that, for a brief moment, it actually staggered the larger Heroic Spirit.
Of course that just meant Herakles returned to the fray with an enraged yell, pulverizing a swath of road with a vengeful swing of his sword-axe, Lancelot slipping outside of the range of said weapon and finding his own preferred means of blunt-force trauma.
Such as ripping an upturned car in two, smashing the halves together to form an improvised pair of gloves before both Servants of madness charged at the other with deafening howls.
"Yeah, I'm not going near that."
The horrendous screech of metal and blast of air that would have flattened a grown man that resulted from their collision lent a great deal of credence to Lancer's comment, Saber instinctively standing in front of Illyasviel in a nostalgic maneuver she had often performed for the girl's mother.
And on that note…
"Illyasviel, do you have a plan to end this nightmare-"
"IT MATTERS NOT THAT YOU HAVE THE AID OF A DOLL, JEANNE! DEVOUR THEM, NOW!"
Both Gilles and Diarmuid announced their presence with renewed charges, the barricade of grasping tentacles and writhing flesh surging forward in a tidal wave of disgusting intent, Saber readying herself for an attempt to slash through the walls while Cú Chulainn and Assassin turned to face Diarmuid.
"I can handle this, Saber~!"
The Homunculus's cheerful tone caused the King of Knight's to gape at her as she lazily plucked a few hairs from her head, tossed them into the air-
-and an audible thrum of prana caused each fine strand of silver to burn, wavering lines of heat visible as the ropes snapped themselves into the form of oversized claymores, the cheerful grin on the albino's face turning malicious.
"Angel's Fire."
The swords snapped forward at speeds comparable to one of Saber's more casual swings-
-and where the burning edges touched monstrous flesh ash and sparks flew, the living walls screaming in agony as the blades carved through them with essentially no resistance whatsoever, just a few seconds of whirling death enough to fill the streets with cinders and smoke.
All eyes except for those of the clashing Berserker's turned towards Illya, the girl smirking as the lethal bits of magecraft flew back to her side and hovered there in a splayed pattern reminiscent of angel wings, haze of released power casting her armored form into indistinct wavers like some manner of avenging spirit.
Saber found herself wondering just what had happened to the girl in the few short hours since the battle at the castle. She was no Magus but spending a great deal of time among practitioners like Merlin and Morgan meant one learned at least the basics of the art, as well as its limits.
Forming constructs like the ones Illyasviel effortlessly did-with that level of Prana output, with seemingly no strain whatsoever-was not a cheap endeavor.
"So why don't we finish this up, hmm~? We have a lot of work to do~!"
Diarmuid warily eyed the burning blades while Caster gaped, shaking with barely contained rage as for the first time the whole battle Saber smiled with relief, feeling like they had a chance at turning this unmitigated disaster around.
"Well spoken, Illaysviel. We shall-"
"Oi, behind us!"
Cú Chulainn's shouted warning came a moment too late, the group turning around to face the direction he was turned-
-only to be swallowed up in an a wave of white light.
Saber's verdant eyes slowly peeled themselves open, greeted with the image of endless sands and her comrades gathered around her with visible confusion on their features.
Assassin, Herakles, Cú Chulainn and Illyasviel. Of them, she was probably the only one who had an understanding of just where they were...and just how much of a lopsided battle they might be in for.
"Well, Saber? You're the expert here, what's up with this?"
Sighing at Lancer's question the King of Knights calmly explained, "We're in a Reality Marble. More specifically, Iskandar's Reality Marble. The Ionian Hetairoi."
An irritated huff left Illyasviel as she stamped a foot, grumbling, "Reality Marbles are rare and unique...as if! There have been three this stupid war! Well, technically two because one was from the same person...no, they were pretty different, right? Gah! This is so frustrating!"
Lips quirking briefly at the Homunculus's aggravation Saber turned towards the horizon, already knowing what to expect.
Ranks upon ranks of warriors, all of them possessing abilities comparable to the weakest of Servants while a few were no doubt far more skilled...all covered in flames and mud, proud courage and honor replaced by bloodthirsty desire for domination.
And at the forefront of the slowly approaching host stood their foes, Lancelot, Iskandar, Gilles, and Diarmuid.
...Not the best of odds.
"Gettin' some really uncomfortable flashbacks to Ulster here."
"You should feel right at home then, Cú Chulainn. Besides, this time you have comrades to aid you."
The Hound of Ireland gazed around at the small group of wildly differing individuals...and barked out a laugh, stabbing his spear deep into the ground.
"And what a motley bunch of allies it is! Oh well, to be completely honest I can't think of who else I'd rather have at my side right now..."
"You two can kiss later, we need to focus on winning this fight right now."
Saber sputtered at Illya's comment while Assassin curiously gazed at her and Lancer, asking, "Are Spearguy and Swordlady married?"
"No we are not!"
Snickering to himself Cú Chulainn turned to face the opposing army as with a titanic roar they charged, the pounding of countless boots shaking the sand beneath their feet.
"Making jokes even though we're probably all about to die? Gotta say, girlie, I think you and I are going to get along just fine."
"Who said anything about us dying?"
Saber was going to ask what Illya meant by that-
-and words died in her throat as a blinding light ensconced the albino's form, formations of glowing prana highlighting her body as the blades slowly reformed into long, cylindrical shapes...almost like the barrels of Lancelot's guns.
An observation that proved highly accurate as a compressed ball of energy flared to life at the 'start' of each chamber, glowing with ominous intent as the albino smirked, prana cannons taking aim at the charging army.
"Let's get to killing, shall we?"
So I was just recently exposing my roomate to the Mask of Zorro last night (frickin' great movie, btw) and I was like hey, if Antonio Banderas can ride horses akimbo then so can Berserker. While wielding light machine guns. Because why not?
And thus that bit was added.
Also Illya now qualifies as a hammerspace character? Except instead of a hammer it's giant oversized prana swords and cannons. Which is a vastly improved version but eh, that's just my take on it.
