Chapter 6: Slaying
". . Ah. Well. It's a pleasure to meet you," Tyler bowed his head. "We are from the Chaldea Security Organisation, we've come to recover the Holy Grail that was planted in this period to create this Singularity,"
"Really, have you now," Jeanne pursed her lips, but nodded. "I'm afraid I don't know anything about the location of a Holy Grail, but I'm not opposed to aiding you in your search, if, that is, you aid us in our cause in turn,"
"And your cause is removing the British occupation from France?" Lily asked.
"That's correct,"
"Why, though?" Lily pressed. "This is a Singularity. A divergence from Proper Human History. Nothing that happens here matters, it isn't going to change what happened. There's no point,"
"I know that!" Jeanne snapped. She paused, taking a moment to steady herself, then repeated, "I know that. I know that this time and this place is an aberration, that should not exist and soon never will have existed. Maybe if I had the Grail, its power could warp history and enforce these events on the true timeline of this world, but I don't so it's a moot point. But . . but I have regrets, alright?"
"And what is it, exactly, that you regret?" Everyone turned to see Altria staggering up to them on unsteady legs. "Is it dying? Is it that that you were killed by the British? Is this all for the sake of revenge?"
"Don't mock me!" Jeanne yelled back. "I would happily lay down my life for the cause I believed in, and anyone who says any less is in for a rude awakening! No, I regret failing!"
Altria suddenly collapsed, and Lily and Tyler rushed to her side to support her. "I'm fine, I'm fine!" the corrupted King of Knights barked at them, forcing herself back to her feet.
"Good. I failed to take back France, and I failed to obey the voice of God. I was defeated, I was captured, and I was burned. Worse, as a Servant I can no longer hear His voice. So maybe none of this matters. Maybe it's a dead time that never existed, leading to an outcome that never happened. But I have a chance here and now to resolve the greatest regret of my existence as a Heroic Spirit, so I'm going to take it. Maybe then, when I return to the Throne, I can rest peacefully until the next time I'm summoned,"
Silence followed her declaration.
"Besides, helping us is in your own best interest, anyway. Me and d'Eon here, as well as a couple of other strays we've picked up, are rogue Servants. We don't know who summoned us or why. But the British seem to have a bunch of Servants on their side, and we don't know where they keep getting them. If they have a Holy Grail and are using it to summon their own army of Servants, that would explain a lot," Jeanne added.
"I see. Well, alright then. Lily, Altria, how do you two feel about this? Joining the French to defeat the British?" Tyler checked.
"You're the Master! Don't ask your Servants' opinions! It's obvious what you should do either way!" Olga-Marie yelled, and the Master muted her.
"Hey, you know me, I'm down with whatever. There's only so much I can do right now, but if you need someone to hit things, I'm your girl," Altria assured him.
"I'm . . admittedly not thrilled. But we're fighting to save the world here. I can't in good conscience object just because we might end up fighting a former friend of mine. Frankly, life as a Servant makes that all but inevitable regardless," Lily admitted. "I'm with you,"
"Great! Glad that's settled. C'mon, I'll take you back to camp. The British have fallen back, and now they're holed up in Paris. It's probably going to turn into a siege. I'll introduce you to my other allies, and we can strategise," Jeanne invited them, and suddenly the massive black dragon that Tyler had seen before landed behind her.
As the natural reaction to the sudden appearance of a dragon, Tyler yelped and scrambled backwards, both Sabers leaping in front of him and drawing their swords.
"Huh? Is something the matter?" Jeanne turned and frowned, half expecting an enemy but seeing only the dragon.
It took a second, but the penny dropped. "Oh! Ohhh, right. Sorry about that. Everyone, I'd like to introduce you to my closest ally and a good friend of mine. The Heroic Spirit, Fafnir!"
X
"Yoooooo, Master! There you are!"
Nikki started, turning to see Astolfo dragging an unconscious pirate behind him. "Oh, there you are! Sorry about that,"
"It's fine, you're all good," the paladin assured her. "Anyway, this guy turned out to be a flake. He said something about capturing us as a gift to his goddess?"
"Goddess? Why would there be a goddess in the sixteenth century?" Nikki questioned. "Wait, no. Holy Grail War rules. We beat up a goddess of the underworld yesterday. Why wouldn't there be a goddess?"
"Zactly! Hey, Roman! Can you do a scan?" Astolfo yelled at the Master's wrist, which flickered to life and presented a sideways Mona Lisa.
"Dr. Roman's currently fretting over our little wannabe dragon, so I hope I'll suffice - wait, why is everything sideways? Keep the camera level when you're talking to me!" Da Vinci demanded in a petulant tone, which was as close to anger as they'd ever seen from her.
Nikki hastily corrected her posture, and the Caster nodded. "Better. No, I'm not reading any Divine Spirit patterns. This goddess must be on a different island. I am pinging another Spirit Origin in your vicinity, though. Very close, too! Just a hundred metres to your northeast!"
Nikki obligingly turned and started walking. "No, no, that's southeast," Da Vinci told her.
Grumbling to herself, she turned again and resumed. "Now you're going west," she was promptly informed.
"Master, this way," Astolfo grabbed her and tugged.
"But that's a wall!" she protested.
The Rider cast her a flat stare, then gestured to the door set into the wall, with a sign above it declaring it to be the site of a PUB.
"Ah - wait, the Servant we're looking for is in a bar?"
"Yep!"
"I really hope we aren't about to team up with some crazy drunkard," Nikki whined, but nonetheless they went in.
X
Tyler didn't care what anyone said, or how bad everything else was. Riding a dragon made this the best day of his life.
"So, are you certain that Fafnir is a Servant?" Lily asked.
"Sure he is, what else could he be?" Jeanne shrugged. "I'm sure he's not supposed to be in fifteenth century France, so he must have been summoned here. I guess he's a Rider or something?"
"Lily!" Tyler yelled. "We are riding a dragon! Stop complaining, this is the best thing ever!"
Jeanne just chuckled as Fafnir growled in what sounded like amusement. "So tell me, how did you end up coming here anyway? You're a long way from the average magus,"
"Well," Tyler considered the question. "There was a lot of fire, I got sick, lots of people died, the best choice got lost, and in the end I'm the only one that made it. Well, and you two,"
Jeanne cast an incredulous look at the Sabers. "Surely there's more to it than that?"
"No, that summarises it well," Lily confirmed.
"He left out the sword beams," Altria pointed out.
"Oh yeah! There were also sword beams!" Tyler nodded.
". . Right," Jeanne decided that was the best she was going to get, and tapped Fafnir. "Time to set us down, buddy!"
The dragon nodded and tilted, sliding downwards through the air. In mere moments his claws hit the ground, and carved chunks out of it as the soil found itself unable to support his weight. Fafnir, though, was entirely accustomed to landing in this way, and he braced himself, sliding with the landing and dropping to his belly to minimise the shock to his passengers. It still caused the Sabers and Tyler to stumble, Jeanne only riding out the shock through experience.
After a brief moment of reorientation, Lily helped Tyler slide down to the ground, the others following them. "Thanks, big guy! You're so cool!" the young man beamed and waved.
An eye the size of an exercise ball swivelled down towards him, and the massive dragon turned his head slightly. A gust of warm air ruffled the Master's hair as he exhaled.
"Hey, he likes you!" Jeanne grinned, snatching the sleeve of his Mystic Code. "Now, come on, meet the rest of the gang," she commanded, leading the way to a tent on the edge of what was obviously an army camp. Quite a large one, too; with the naked eye he couldn't see the end of it when peering between the tents.
"Dr. Roman, Director, are you getting this?" Tyler checked his communicator as he stepped into the tent, and the hologram flickered to life.
"Oh, yes! Both of these guys have great Spirit Origin readings! I'm glad we've ended up with such powerful allies!" Dr. Roman crowed.
Processing his words, Tyler paused, looking at the three people in the tent. "Uh, you mean all three of them, right?"
"Huh?" was the doctor's eloquent response, and he squinted at something they couldn't make out. "Oh. Uh, whoops. There's a third reading, but I can barely see it next to the first two,"
"I presume that's me," one of the Servants piped up. She was a lithe brunette in a simple maid's dress, an entirely mundane sight in the manor of a nobleman but throughly out of place in a battlefield. "It's alright, I know I'm very unimpressive, especially next to this beefcake,"
"You should not sell yourself short, my dear Charlotte," said the most impressive of the three people in the tent. He was a tall and gaunt man with blond hair that faded to turquoise at the tips, dressed in black robes under a long coat that hung past his knees and ended at thick-soles boots. He all but projected an aura of contempt for everything around him, even as he was sprawled on a bench, nursing a gaping wound in his hip.
"Oh, oh jeez. What happened to you?" Tyler winced as he took in the injury, pacing over to him. "Uh, First Aid!" he cast, green light playing over the injury, causing some flesh to regenerate.
"Ah, thank you, my boy. That helps. Do forgive my rudeness in not standing to greet a guest in our humble abode. I am Vladimir Tepes III, and this is my good friend, Charlotte Corday," the Servanr introduced himself.
"Vlad the Third? Oh, no way! You're Dracula!" Dr. Roman exclaimed in disbelief.
There was a beat of silence.
Jeanne took a step back. "Oh, shit, he said the D word,"
"D word?" Tyler mouthed, glancing back at Vlad.
The room grew cold and dark as the king's cold and eyes became the only source of light in the world, an oppressive aura of palpable killing intent sending every nerve in his body screaming with the urge to run, run and hide, save that pure fear held him paralysed in place.
"Do not. Ever. Speak that name in my presence. I will forgive you. Once," Vlad hissed.
When his legs started working again, Tyler scrambled over to the central pole of the tent and leant against it until he was certain his legs wouldn't give out. "Wow. You . . don't like that?"
"That blood-sucking abomination is a perversion of my legend. The corruption it has inflicted on my record in the Throne of Heroes sickens me to my stomach. I would sooner die a thousand deaths than so much as acknowledge the existence of that abomination," Every word he spat was laced with venom.
"Okay, um, on a lighter and more cheery subject, what gave you that horrible injury?" Tyler asked, desperate to get his mind off what he'd just heard.
"The sword of the dragon-slayer," Vlad rumbled. "Earlier today, I led the charge against Paris, only to encounter that man defending the city. Honestly, that I should run into him again, here of all places. It beggars belief,"
"Who are we talking about?" Lily pressed.
"Siegfried. The dragon-blooded knight. He has manifested as a Saber, and stands against us, defending Paris," Vlad rumbled.
"Yes, about that. I have some good news for you, we've found out who seems to be commanding the defence of Paris, and, I suspect, keeping Siegfried in line. Him and that black Berserker," d'Eon reported, joining them in the tent. "William Shakespeare, the British playwright,"
"Shakespeare too? Gods, it's Trifas all over again," Vlad rumbled.
"Trifas?" Tyler parroted.
"A Grail War in the past. I was allied with Siegfried, but he either doesn't remember or doesn't care. I never liked Shakespeare though, not that I saw him much," Vlad summarised.
"You can wander down memory lane when we break for dinner tonight, there's still enough daylight left to be productive," Jeanne chastised them, poking her head behind a curtain, into a partitioned-off section of the tent behind which a shadow was visible. "Gilles!"
"Yes, Jeanne, my beloved?" an answer came but the man didn't move from what he was doing.
"Come out here and meet our guests. They're from Chaldea, and they're here to help us," Jeanne commanded, and dragged out what had to be the most strangely dressed man Tyler had ever seen. He wore a long, grey overcoat, and some kind of striped scarf around his neck with several fronds protruding from it, over a green undershirt. His hair was black and shocked into several spikes, and his eyes bulged out from underneath a heavyset brow.
Tyler stifled a shudder. He was the walking embodiment of the word 'creepy'.
"Chaldea, hmm?" The man raised an eyebrow, and nodded. "Tch! Very well. If my beloved Jeanne thinks they can aid us, I shan't object. Carry on!"
"Yes, good. We've won the field, but Vlad's offensive failed," Jeanne recapped. "Oh, right, you newcomers don't know. The battle was a diversion, a successful attempt to lure out enemy Servants. Vlad was supposed to lead a troop to attack Paris and make sure they had nowhere to retreat to, but the enemy predicted us somehow. Siegfried was waiting for him,"
"He could have killed me, but he was focusing on defence, rather than defeating me. It's infuriating," Vlad glowered.
"Ah, no shame in losing to a stronger opponent," Altria sardonically pointed out, sitting next to him. "It happens to everyone eventually,"
Vlad growled, but didn't respond.
Altria stared at him for a moment. "Oh, holy shit, he actually is stronger than you,"
"It's not just strength! It's his defensive and regenerative ability!" Vlad yelled in frustration. "I struck him dead! I I impaled him straight through the heart! He shrugged it off!"
"What's this about a defensive ability?" Tyler asked.
"It's the Armour of Fafnir. Yes, the same dragon who's waiting outside. Siegfried is the one who slew it in their original legend," Vlad summarised. "Siegfried bathed in its blood -"
"His," Jeanne corrected.
". . pardon me?"
"Fafnir isn't an 'it',"
"Oh. Apologies. Whatever the case, bathing in the dragon's blood makes you invincible, but a leaf stuck to the small of his back when he did, so that one spot wasn't covered. In theory, anyone who knows his true name can defeat him easily, because that point is such an obvious weak spot that a single blow to it will defeat him," Vlad explained.
"But you couldn't hit that spot?"
"He never gave me the chance! He stood on top of a wall and rained gods-damned sword beams at me! There was no angle I could attack him from where he wouldn't see me coming and move to defend himself!" the Lancer snapped.
"So, we can't take Paris until we can find a way to deal with Siegfried," Tyler reasoned. "Are he, Lancelot and Shakespeare the only Servants in the city?"
"To our knowledge, yes," Jeanne confirmed.
"Great, love the uncertainty," the Master grumbled.
"If you don't mind me asking, the problem with defeating Siegfried is that no one can get close enough, to strike his weak spot with enough accuracy, correct?" Charlotte interjected.
"Yes. It'd be one thing if we just had an Archer to help, but to my knowledge none of us have a sufficiently accurate ranged attack," Vlad glowered.
"Director. Might you send Era and Sita to us? If we can get Sita an angle, I'm sure that she could hit him," Lily put forward, looking at the holograms attached to Tyler's arm.
"No, that won't be necessary. I have a plan, at least to deal with Siegfried," Charlotte declared. "My Noble Phantasm might as well have been made to defeat him, tehe. I'll just need a distraction,"
"Literally anyone here can fulfil the role of distraction," Tyler put forward.
"Then I'll do it. I want to settle the score. Even if it won't be my blade that lands the blow," Vlad determined.
"Sounds like a plan. With Siegfried out of the way, the French army will be able to march on Paris without worrying about Balmung raining death on them," Jeanne nodded. "I'm still worried about Lancelot and Shakespeare, though. Either one of them could devastate the army. I don't want to lead all these people to their deaths," she asserted.
"We don't have to worry much about Shakespeare. He's a remarkably weak and useless Servant, with only a couple of tricks to his name. Just don't let him get you talking, his real power lies in his tongue. Say nothing, ignore him, just attack whilst chanting 'lalala' in your head. Do that and I dare say even you could best him in single combat, Master," Vlad assured the group.
Pursing his lips, Tyler decided to take that as a compliment. "Lily, Altria. You knew Lancelot. What're his weaknesses?"
"He doesn't have any," Lily immediately declared.
"None at all," Altria agreed.
Tyler cast them a flat look. "That's really freaking helpful, thanks,"
"We mean it, though. His combination of Knight of Owner and Eternal Arms Mastery -"
"Eternal what now?" Charlotte interjected.
"It's his Personal Skill. And I do mean personal, he's the only one I know of who has it. In short, he can fight perfectly with any weapon he lays hands on. He's so talented you'd think he was born with a blade in hand, and spent his entire life refining his skill with every type of weapon there is. It's second nature to him. Even as an insane Berserker who can't string a sentence together, he's the perfect warrior," Altria explained. "Combine that with Knight of Owner turning anything he lays hands on into his Noble Phantasm, and you have the perfect human fighting machine,"
"But that means he doesn't have any strengths, either," Jeanne pointed out. "No favoured opponents, and all of us are equally likely to defeat him,"
"Eh, I don't like my chances," Charlotte admitted.
"All of us who are any good at melee combat. I think the trick is going to be -"
"Getting the massive dragon we have outside to obliterate him?" Tyler suggested.
His input was met by a round of baffled blinks.
"I'm just saying. We have a dragon. I get that we can't use Fafnir against Siegfried because he's a dragon slayer Servant and his conceptual bonuses will make Fafnir fold like tissue paper, but I think you all got a little too into the 'one on one battles of legend' routine. Is there any particular reason we can't just rain fire on him from above until he keels over, or tail slap him right back to England?"
". . No, no, that'll probably work. Haha! Alright, I'll tell the big guy. Charlotte, Vlad, head out whenever you're ready. They're probably expecting another offensive, so I doubt Siegfried will move for a while," Jeanne commanded, then paused. "Unless you need more time to heal?"
". . I would appreciate a few more casts of that First Aid spell," Vlad admitted.
The Master nodded, shaking out the sleeves of his Mystic Code. "On it!"
X
The pub was small, quiet and mostly empty.
Actually, save for the bartender polishing a bottle, it was completely empty.
"I think we lost the Servant we were looking for," Nikki sighed.
"No, the signal's clear! They're right in front of you!" Da Vinci advised from the command room.
"But, the only person here is . ." Nikki paused, then stalked over to the bartender, a tall fellow with pale grey hair. "Are you a Servant?"
"Ah . . uh, I'm sorry, what?" the man frowned.
"You know, magic, Heroic Spirits, saving the world. Does any of that mean anything to you?"
". . I think you want the creepy guy who passed out in the cellar," the bartender offered, gesturing to a trapdoor.
Nikki considered this for a moment. "Da Vinci. Does your machine not factor in altitude?"
"Apparently not, just longitude and latitude. Also I must protest that I didn't design this," Da Vinci retorted.
The Master sighed. "I will take a creepy guy in the cellar. Astolfo, could you go in first? Just in case this turns violent,"
"You got it!" The Rider flung the door open and slid down the ladder, landing with a splash.
"Did I just hear a splash?" his Master called. "Is it wet down there? I don't want to ruin these shoes! . . actually, they're probably a lost cause but it's the principle of the matter!"
"Nah, it's fine, come on down!"
"Alright," With somewhat more care, Nikki dropped down the ladder in several quick steps and landed with a squelch.
Covering her mouth, Astolfo did his best to stifle giggles.
Looking down at the black grime that was now splattered over her trainers, Nikki angrily jabbed the communicator. "Da Vinci?" she hissed through gritted teeth.
"Yes?"
"When I get back to Chaldea, I want you to make me boots. The best damn boots you can!"
"Sure, cutie, no worries,"
"And stop being so condescending!"
Something shifted in the shadows.
Nikki and Astolfo froze. "Did you see that?" the Master breathed.
"Go away," a muffled voice mumbled.
Nikki clenched her fist. "I am Nikki Aiadon, Master of Chaldea. Me and my Servant, Astolfo, have come to retrieve the Holy Grail and undo this Singularity, so that we can restore Proper Human History and undo the Incineration of Humanity. We're looking for Servants to help us,"
Something red shifted into the light coming from the trapdoor above them. Greasy hair shifted, and a large, pale green eye regarded them.
"No thanks. Go away,"
Nikki choked. "What? But - you're a Heroic Spirit. How can you not want to save the world?"
"You'll fail. You'll die. It's not worth the hassle," the form mumbled.
"And you're certain of that," Astolfo frowned, wading through the muck to stand over the figure, who was sprawled in a hammock so dark they could barely pick it out against the back wall. A mass of dark hair obscured their figure, save for one exposed hand that was covered in circular tattoos, and a floating, blood-red ring around their head that emitted a muffled confirmation.
"Why?"
"Because," the form grumbled.
Nikki raised her eyebrows, and forced herself to cross the cellar. "Hey, what's your name?"
"Why do you care? Just let me sleep,"
"Because we need all the help we can get," she admitted. After a moment, she sighed. "Look, you're right. We barely know what we're doing, we don't have much of a plan. We don't really know what we're up against and we're probably hopelessly outmatched,"
The eye was staring at her in incredulous confusion now.
"But the fact is, we're the only ones who can do something about this. Chaldea, we, are the sole remaining group on this planet capable of doing anything to prevent or undo the end of the world, anything at all. And we know that the amount of power we can bring to bear right now isn't going to be anywhere near enough, but that's why we want people like you to help us. To join us. Every bit helps, everyone has something to contribute. And maybe whether or not you're with us, helping us, makes the difference between victory and defeat,"
The person sat up, flowing hair parting to reveal a pale, watery face. ". . You're really so certain that you can save the world?"
"Of course not," Nikki admitted with a slight shake of her head. "But we're going to try anyway,"
Those unnervingly large eyes blinked twice. Then the entity before them heaved out a sigh. "Fine. How about a trial run, then. I'll help you on this foolish quest until you find this Singularity's Holy Grail, then I'll decide if you're worth following. If only because I'm already awake now and it's going to be really hard to get back to sleep while this Singularity still exists,"
"That's good enough for me," Nikki nodded with a grateful smile. "I'm Nikki, 29th Master of Chaldea,"
A tattooed hand snaked out and touched hers, wet and slimy flesh sending involuntary shudders up her arm. "Taisui Xingjun. Pseudo-Divine Spirit and Alter Ego-Class Servant,"
Confusion danced across Nikki's features. ". . I'm sorry, you're a what? What's an 'Alter Ego'? And, what do you mean, Pseudo-Divine?"
"I dunno," he shrugged.
"Da Vinci?"
"Uh, I don't know what to tell you either. I suppose he's some kind of false god legend? Same for the class; his Spirit Origin doesn't match any of the main seven Classes. We know Extra Classes exist, after all Mash is a Shielder and over in Orleans Tyler's run into the Ruler-Class Jeanne d'Arc. I guess 'Alter Ego' must be another one of these mysterious Extra Classes?"
"Gotcha. Ah well, maybe we'll run into more at one point or another. Come on, let's go," Nikki beckoned to the two Servants, and without wasting another second clambered out of the dingy cellar.
". . . Astolfo? Where did you leave that Bartholomew guy?"
"Huh?" the paladin frowned, looking around as he exited the cellar, scanning the empty floor. "He was right . . ah. Yup, he's gone. Whoops!"
"Sorry, folks. If you leave someone unconscious and they get up and run off, you only have yourself to blame. That's part of the pirates' code," the bartender unsympathetically offered.
Nikki sunk into a chair, leaning on the bar with her head in her hands. "This is my fault, isn't it?" she whimpered.
"How d'ya mean?"
"We just lost our only lead on what's going on in this Singularity,"
A high-pitched noise filled the air, and without even looking Nikki levelled a finger at her Servant. "Don't! Laugh!"
"This is going to be a massive waste of time," Taisui mumbled.
X
"Siegfried! Saber of Black, if that still means anything to you!"
The dragon-slayer's head swivelled, and he focused on Vlad Tepes III as he stalked towards the position he had taken up atop the hastily erected ten-foot wall.
"I don't know why you call me that, Vladimir. It is a name that means nothing to me,"
"So it doesn't. That's a pity," Ten feet below and thirty away, Vlad halted. He knew that he was within the effective range of Siegfried's Noble Phantasm, but he also knew that the dragon-slayer would only use it if provoked. His goal here was merely to be a distraction, and he wasn't fully recovered yet. If words would distract him just as well as combat would, he had no need of risking himself.
"Why have you come back? I can see that you haven't healed properly. Do you wish to defeat me that badly?" the Saber rumbled.
"Yes, as a matter of fact, I do. But, first I need a question answered," Vlad called back at him.
"And what would that be?"
"Why are you here? Why are you protecting this city? Why do you feel this is worth doing?" In all honesty, Vlad couldn't care less about what was going through the Saber's mind. But making him stop and reflect on his motives and feelings would make it that much easier for Charlotte to sneak up on him.
"Because they asked me to,"
It wasn't working, Vlad determined. Someone as simple-minded and relentlessly driven as Siegfried would never doubt himself just because someone looked at his ideology in an unflattering light. "Ah. Of course. That little quirk of yours had slipped my mind. I suppose it was a foolish question,"
"Perhaps just a little," A faint smile escaped Siegfried's facade.
"Oh? Was that a joke I just heard from the stoic dragon slayer? And here I'd thought you not to have a single drop of humour in your body. I suppose wonders will never cease,"
"I should hope not," the Saber returned equally. "It would be quite depressing to live in a world without wonder,"
"A pity, then, that you cannot see the bloody road that I travel on. Wonder fled my life a long time ago," he admitted with a slight scowl. "But . . What's the term? 'There's no use crying over spilt milk'? I believe that was it. Hm. You know, I'd always wondered, does the idea of righteousness not factor into your decision making process at all? Or do you just fulfil people's earnest requests with no heed for your own morals?"
"A lingering curiosity from the version of me you fought alongside in a past Grail War? I can oblige that request," Siegfried nodded. "You're right. I do want to stand for what I believe in. In life, I walked the path of a hero, and it does not do for a hero to strive for their own selfish desires, so I acted only when asked. I don't regret that. But it does bring me some measure of joy to fight for the benevolence, justice and love that I believe in,"
"One last question, then," Vlad nodded. "Why are you defending Paris? Why not join us under the banner of Jeanne d'Arc?"
Soegfried's tone was flat, without judgement or condescension as he spoke. "Because the actions you are taking will cause people to die. Maybe your cause is righteous, and maybe the transient existences of the people of this Singularity don't mean anything. But no war can be fought without the loss of innocent lives. I won't condone that,"
"I see. Then there's nothing more to say," Vlad nodded, inwardly fuming. What was taking Charlotte so long?
"Indeed," Balmung went up, and Vlad drew his lance.
"If our last bout taught me anything, it's that against you in that spot, there's no reason to try for one perfect strike with which to incapacitate you. Rather," Pointed spears burst out of the ground around Vlad, angled towards Siegfried. First five, then twenty, then a hundred, a field of sharp ends blooming outwards until there were easily three hundred sharpened stakes at the ready. Vlad cracked a crooked smile. "Let's try quantity over quality,"
The spears leapt into the air under his telekinetic control, flying into the air and raining down around Siegfried with a wide enough spray that he couldn't dodge fast enough to avoid getting hit. Even as the first volley of spears was ongoing, the earliest strikes that missed and fell behind the wall jumped back up and came at him from behind, unerringly targeting the exposed weak spot on his back.
Siegfried raised his sword as the lances honed in, and jumped. The fierce of his acceleration smashed him through the few spears that had passed above him, and the stakes from behind flew harmlessly underneath him or bounced off his greaves. His sword came down, glowing with blue light, and a shockwave reduced the stakes that were frantically retargeting him to splinters as he spoke. "The evil dragon shall fall, and the world will reach its sunset! Phantasmal Greatsword - Felling of the Sky Demon: Balmung!"
Vlad frantically flung himself backwards as a blue laser large enough to envelop him emerged from the tip of the sword, crashing down to earth and just barely avoiding the wall as it obliterated the stakes below him, then swept outwards to target him and only narrowly missed. "Damnit! Stop that!"
"I can't oblige that request," Siegfried shook his head, but In the moment he'd been blinded by the light of his own Noble Phantasm, the Lancer had vanished from view.
He cast around, but only saw the remains of the stakes, several trees, a maid, and a mole that was frantically burying itself out of fear for its life.
Wait. A maid?
"Got you!" All thought of the innocent and non-threatening maid vanished as Vlad emerged from the canopy of a nearby tree with another salvo of lances. Siegfried spun to fave him and swung his sword. "Phantasmal Greatsword - Felling of the Sky Demon: Balmung!" Another blue laser lashed out, and Vlad used tentacles of his own lances erupting from the tree to fling him out of the way as the beam annihilated the leafy canopy, flying into the middle distance and narrowly avoiding scorching an unfortunate bush and a maid.
Vlad's lance came down on him, and Balmung was swept up to block. For a moment, the force of his strike held the Lancer in place in mid-air, then both pushed off and Vlad was thrown back while Siegfried's position held firm. His platinum blonde locks billowed around him as he landed on both feet and skidded, left hand coming down momentarily to steady himself as he slid to a halt on the grass between a tree and a maid.
The greatsword flashed with light and came down again. "The evil dragon shall fall, and the world will reach its sunset! Phantasmal Greatsword - Felling of the Sky Demon: Balmung!"
Cursing, the king leapt behind the nearby tree, but howled in pain as the sword beam clipped his leg. "Gods damnit!" he bellowed, limping out from behind the tree and casting his fiercest scowl at the dragon slayer. "How can you possibly have the magic to fire your Noble Phantasm so many times?"
"I don't know. But I do, so I'm going to use it," Siegfried shrugged. ". . Do you need a minute?"
"Oh, to hell with you!" Vlad roared, throwing his arms out. "Bloodstained King Demon: Kazikli Bey!" Stakes erupted from his body. Unlike the earlier weapons, these were made of flesh, of blood, of hair and of bone. Though they were fewer in numbers they moved much faster, and Siegfried found himself struggling to defend.
So he didn't.
Heedless of the pain as they pierced his shoulders and feet, he trusted his Armour of Fafnir to keep him alive even as he ripped one of his feet apart to free it from the stake of hair before a bone spear could impale the small of his back. He swung his sword and drew breath - but the blade did not appear in his vision, did not block his view of the grass and the maid in front of him.
Somewhat belatedly, he realised that the spear in his right arm had severed his tendon, rendering him unable to swing Balmung. "Huh. Not bad,"
"It's a pity we can't work together. I really do respect you," Vlad offered, picking himself up and limping towards him. "But with you unable to move that arm, I think this fight is-"
Siegfried's thumb jerked, and his sword bounced in his hand, just enough that it came down three inches and pointed at Vlad. "Phantasmal Greatsword - Felling of the Sky Demon: Balmung!"
Caught off-guard, the Lancer barely had time to splutter before the laser bodily threw him into the middle distance.
Siegfried heaved out a sigh. "Better luck next time," he mumbled in the direction in which Vlad had disappeared.
"Wow, that was awesome!"
Who was speaking? Siegfried looked up in surprise to see . . a maid?
"That was so cool! You were all fwoosh, and he was like babababang, and you just weren't having any of it - oh, gosh, sorry, you're injured! Let me help you up!" she declared, and before he could protest her arms were wrapped around his body and forcing him to his feet.
"You really don't have to," he mumbled. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but there was something about this maid that didn't seem quite obviously wasn't dangerous but . . what was a maid doing in the mettle of a battlefield, anyway?
His body went rigid as the tip of a knife found the small of his back.
Earlier…
"So, just out of curiosity, how exactly do you plan to defeat Siegfried?" Tyler asked as Fafnir lifted them towards the point where Siegfried was defending the fortifications around Paris.
"Well, I'm gonna walk right up to him while he's not looking, and then I'm gonna stab him!" Charlotte explained. "And he'll never see it coming because I'm way too pretty and innocent to stab someone!"
The Master's eyebrows inched upwards. ". . Is that all?"
"Yep!"
". . We're turning this dragon around and coming up with a new plan," Tyler asserted. "There is no way in hell that's going to work!"
"Tyler, was it?" Jeanne cautioned him. "If any other Servant was suggesting this, I would share your concerns. Hell, any other Assassin probably couldn't pull it off. But this is Charlotte Corday. If anyone can make a hare-brained scheme like this work, it's her. She's a stab-happy airhead, but with an absurdly high Luck ranking. Frankly, this is exactly what I expected,"
X
"Love To The Homeland, A Dream Of Drowning: Le Rêve Ensoleillé," Charlotte whispered as she buried the knife in Siegfried's back. "Did you think such a sweet girl couldn't be an assassin? Tehe. Have a pleasant dream,"
Siegfried choked out one last gasp, then fell to the ground and started to break down into golden particles.
A/N
A/N
Be honest. Who expected Nikki to meet Francis Drake?
If you did, you're going to continue to be disappointed; I don't particularly like Drake, and actually quite enjoyed the storyline of Okeanos . . except for all the parts that included Drake. The only thing she contributed was a bit of Mash's character development and a boat. Instead, we get sea monster boi!
As for Jeanne d'Arc . . the mystery deepens.
Well, okay, no, it should be obvious at this point that she's Jalter. Or Joan, whichever you prefer. (Actually, what's the origin of 'Joan'? I've heard Jalter a lot but Joan gets bandied about sometimes? If anyone can tell me, I'd appreciate it.) But in the absence of the real Jeanne d'Arc, no one can tell her she's wrong to say "I am Jeanne d'Arc!"