70: Unreachable City of Triumph - Paris

The room is silent for a brief moment, as Ahab's story sinks in. A tale of comrades and events lost to time, bound up in a hell of twenty-four loops that not even I can remember. There's tons of different thoughts running through my head.

There's a feeling as though I've betrayed everyone - I should remember, dammit! It may have been painful, it may have been hell, but that's my job! I should be the one to carry their memories forward!

There's a feeling as though I've been betrayed - What the hell, Satella!? Just how naive are you, woman? For you to fall for Prelati's illusion he put on you in every loop of twenty-four… I've got some bets as to what he was showing you, so I kind of get it, but can't you learn some basic pattern recognition!?

There's lingering feelings of pain - dozens upon dozens of scars left upon my body and psyche by Prelati's torture, and above all the phantom pain of my missing hand.

But.

But, above all of these feelings, the one thought echoing, screaming out in my mind, flooded with emotions of disappointment and indignation is-!

"That plan sucks!" I shout. "The greatest Strategist of the Warring Kingdoms Period, given access to time travel and Heroic Spirits, and the best he could come up with is 'throw some different guys at it and hope it works out'!? This isn't the work of a master strategist, this is the work of some hack writer trying to invent the work of a master strategist! This movie sucks! I want my money back!"

"Aye, to call it barebones be too generous." Ahab shrugs. "Though, there is that personal skill to account for - [Tactician's Advice], which grants him the ability to deliver 100% accurate advice, even if he lacks crucial information."

"What the hell, that's broken!" I shout.

"-But, against foes with high enough luck or skill, it ceases to be effective." He concludes.

"What the hell, that's useless!" I shout.

Considering Lancelot's luck, he might as well not have mentioned the damn skill!

"Not useless, but 'twas fated to fall apart at some point close to thy arrival in Paris." Ahab notes.

"Hence he didn't even offer any advice beyond that point… what an annoying guy." I sigh. "Still, the question becomes, what the hell do we do now? Satella has already been-"

At that moment, something slams into the door, letting out a small squeak of pain. The door is flung open, and Mash enters in a hurry. "Saint George has fallen. The shadow got Fafnir and Carmilla as well, but we don't have much time."

In a brief moment, before the Feng Shui is broken, several bits of information flow through my mind.

Her outfit has changed. She's wearing a sword now. She seems more confident, despite a slight wobble here and there in her step. It's not an injury, but something about her footsteps is out of balance.

"A-ah, Master, you're awake." She notes with a stutter - no, not a stutter. It was forced. Why would she fake a stutter, and furthermore an attempt at adopting a more meek posture that doesn't quite look right.

"Master." She said "Master.", not "Senpai". No, I didn't notice, but-

The spell breaks, and it slips from my grasp - but the notion is still there.

"Mash." I say, trying to hold in my panic. "Can you step back out of the room for a second?"

With a slightly confused look, she obliges, and the rest of the puzzle falls into place.

She called me Master, not Senpai. That's not abnormal. She does that sometimes, especially in combat situations - but.

"In theory the summoned servant was supposed to possess me, allowing them to permanently manifest."

But now that I think of it, she hasn't called me Senpai once since she learned of Galahad's identity, has she?

"-Tch, so that's how it is. You can come in, Galahad." I find myself snarling.

She - no, he, cringes, looking away from me. I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I understand that you withheld your name for a reason. I know you never wanted this. But even so, I can't forgive you for this.

I take a deep breath. "...Is Mash-"

"I'm sorry." Galahad responds. "Although I defeated Lancelot…"

I exhale softly. It doesn't matter anyway. We're already screwed; it's not like Satella will just leave.

"H-hey, don't just step over me and ignore me!" A new voice blurts out, a vaguely familiar pink-haired girl with a faint bruise on her forehead entering the room. Behind her, a draconic tail swishes irritably. "Not after I flew you all the way here - you would have gotten eaten by that Shadow too if it wasn't for me, so give me some applause!"

Galahad's eyes widen, and he immediately kneels in apology. "Apologies, my lady - I was distracted. Know that you have my eternal gratitude for saving me." He grasps her hand, delivering the classic chivalrous kiss to her knuckles.

"T-that's right, you should - w-w-w-what are you doing to an Idol's hand you shameless girl!?" She stammers, her entire face going red as her tail stiffens. "I said applause! Applause! N-n-not this! What will my fans think! Kyaaaa!"

"What the hell is this mood whiplash..?" I mumble.

"Aye, useless though she may be in most things, Bathory doth at the very least serve as a source of amusement." Ahab says with a faint grin.

My eyes widen, fury starting to build as the pieces click together - "Bathory!?"

"That's me - but don't get me confused with that old hag, Fishie! I'm the fourteen year old me who was summoned as a lancer, the hot new idol on the Throne of Heroes, the Innocent Demoness of Fresh Blood!" She exclaims, striking a cute pose and winking. "Nice to meet you and please take care of me "

"H-how did you vocalize a heart as punctuation!?"

"It's an Idol's secret "

"Th-the star too!? She really is an Idol!"

A loud beep interrupts the back and forth, and from the wrist communicator on my remaining hand, the thoroughly frazzled-looking image of Olga Marie Animusphere appears.

"Connection stable, fucking finally - can you hear me now, Natsuki?" She asks.

"Ah, so communications were down… no wonder I hadn't heard from you." I say, slapping a fist down in my - right, I'm still down a hand.

"HOW DID YOU NOT KNOW!?" She shrieks.

"Well, I've been really busy, so-"

"No, save it, we don't have time! That shadow that ate our reactors might be gone for now, but we still don't know when it will be back - before anything else, we have reading on the grail!"

"What-!?" My entire grasp of things is sent reeling, but I don't have any time to put things together before-

"It's moving towards you - a single servant is carrying it, and from these readings it looks like-"

The door is kicked off its hinges.

"Yo, brats." The intruder says, a sharp-toothed grin on his face.

"-Chlodovech" The director concludes.

He looks like hell. A full clump of hair is missing from his bruised head, and his clothes are torn and covered in blood. His oversized axe is nowhere to be seen, and both of his arms have been twisted as if to wring the blood out of them.

"-Tch. You're still not pronouncing it right. Less stress on the syllables, girl." He rolls his eyes, before flopping towards me with one of his arms. "Hey, smelly boy. Was that shadow thing yours? It smelled the same."

I blink. "No, she-"

"Don't call up shit like that in my country, you idiot. Had to break my damn axe to get her to fuck off."

What.

"You what!?" I blurt. "How could you - no, I get that the [RESTITVTOR • ORBIS] was powerful, but with just the fragment in that axe, you-!?"

"No, I used the grail too. Put the pieces together, kid." He rolls his eyes. "Anyway… 'Shatter the illusions of Francois Prelati.', and 'Slay the false Jeanne d'Arc and claim the Grail.'. That's both orders completed, and I'll throw in sending that shadow woman home as a bonus. Don't say the elderly never did anything for you."

What.

You've got to be kidding me. This guy, who put us through hell. This guy, who killed Jeanne in front of us. This guy, who forced Amadeus to sacrifice himself-

This is your master plan, Kongming!? You bastard! I want a refund! Give me back my twenty-four loops! Undo that pain you put Ahab through and just give me Gareth from the start, you worthless fake strategist!

"-Of course, the blowback hit my Spirit Origin too. There's no place for the ghosts of old men in my country, either." The ancient king says with a dry chuckle, and his body starts to crumble into golden dust. "The grail is yours, brats. Congratulations."

Wait. No, that's not right.

"S-seriously!? There's not even a final fight or anything? You're just giving it to us?" Bathory blurts out, as gold dust starts to come off of her body as well. "What about my chance to shine- wait, wait, why am I disappearing already!?"

This isn't right! I can't just move on like this! Not after all of this!

"Thou'rt a rogue servant, art thou not?" Ahab says, as he too begins to disappear. "'Tis not odd that now that things are at a close, we shall disappear as well."

We're not even remotely satisfied, satiated, happy with this result! We need to do more, take more, learn more, until the puzzle is solved!

"I just got done with the final battle, girl. Blame yourself for missing it." Chlodovech chuckles. "One last thing, foul smelling boy-"

"No. This is the limit." I mutter, inhaling sharply.

I can't allow this to continue. Victory is in my grasp but-

I can't move forward, not like this. With the bitter taste of all those sacrifices in my mouth, as if we could be remotely satiated!

…I sidle closer to Ahab.

"Ahab, give me your harpoon." I murmur.

The whaler grins. "There are easier ways to die, boy." He mutters back.

"But none that inflict 'all your experiences' upon the target, right?"

He lets out a bark of laughter. "Take it then, thou fool!"

In a single movement, the harpoon is thrust into the floorboard.

"You really need to - you're not listening!?" Chlodovech says. "It's good advice, I promise!"

"Save it for next time, you damn shotajiji!" I shout, resting my hand on the harpoon.

For just an instant, I hesitate. Can I really do this?

Nothing is forcing my hand. I'll be casting myself back into Prelati's grasp, for sure. Can I handle his torture another time?

I can.

Is it worth it? I couldn't die just for Jeanne d'Arc. I couldn't die just for Mozart, or Gareth, or Marie.

Can I die for Mash Kyrielight?

Galahad tackles me, and I lose my grip on the harpoon.

"What are you doing, Natsuki Subaru!?" He shouts, but I-

"Thanks for the meal, Ahab." I lick the palm of my hand.

The pain is instantaneous. Blood oozes from my gums, like the teething pain from Fuyuki but a thousand times worse. My authority of [Gluttony], freshly bloomed, swallows the curse of his spear.

Echoes of experiences course through me - the agony of twenty four loops of strife against impossible odds. Torn limbs, shredded skin, bullet wounds, arrow wounds, sword wounds, knife wounds, the agony of being eaten alive by Fafnir - and more beyond even that, the clash against the whale, the numbing pain of drowning, the loss of comrades, the loss of limb, the loss of direction save that the damned whale must die.

But despite it all, it's worth it - the defenders of Paris, their names, their mannerisms, their hopes and dreams, are engraved upon me. And more importantly, those they faced - dozens of tricks I had yet to see from the enemy are laid bare. The Noble Phantasms of Dark Jeanne, Berserk Saber, Berserk Caster, and the Berserk Archer who had been conspicuously absent the entire singularity - all of them are revealed to me, along with their fighting styles.

Through it all, my heartbeat pounds between my ears like a bass drum, until suddenly, with a sharp pain in my chest, it stops, and I die screaming.

And awake screaming, on a horribly damaged carriage, the heavy footfalls of the Tarrasque behind us. Dimly, through the echoes of agony from Ahab's curse, I can make out the pain of a dislocated shoulder and broken fingers.

"Senpai!?" Mash shouts in worry, moving towards me, and in an instant, heedless of injuries, I find my arms wrapping around her, drawing her close, clinging in terror that if I let go she might slip away again.

"S-s-s-senpai!?" She shouts with a totally different tone, and I can't help but let out a pained laugh. "S-senpai what are y-you-?"

It's fine. This is fine. Even from all the way back here, even without Galahad's power, even as the world dissolves into white fog and we proceed into Prelati's spiderweb once more-

We can win. I'm sure of it.

A/N:

Got called out by a reviewer the other day. "The only reason the singularity has taken too long is you, you know."

It hurts because he's right.

By the way, the gluttony authority in this chapter has been tentatively titled [Filth Eater]. It specializes in eating curses, but as you saw if the curse is nasty enough Subaru might just die... in this case, though, it was the cumulative damage from Prelati's torture plus the cursed harpoon that did it; if he wasnt already suffering blood loss and exhaustion he might have survived.

I'll see you guys next chapter. I should probably know better than to announce dates at this point, but let's aim for Wednesday anyway.