* Yakuza 5 – The Battle for the Dream
* Ryuu ga Gotoku Ishin – Assassination of Boddhisattva
* Fata Morgana – A Noble Death
Chapter CXXV: Burn the Past
* Yakuza – The Battle for the Dream
Galahad rushed forth.
Blasts of energy were sweeping across the central room of Boleskine House. Beams of moonlight stretched from one wall to another while the space in between was filled with burning clusters of mana just waiting to flare up. This place had become a deadly room ladden in traps to an extravangant degree. Galahad understood that Aleister was tempting him, presenting obstacles that the knight could simply endure through.
However, with the state his body was in, he wasn't even sure how much of that damage he could afford to take.
And so, he showed the magus that he wasn't quite out of resource yet: the holy sword drew a vertical arc through the air, slicing through imminent traps and attacks. He dashed into the resulting opening, always in a straight line toward Aleister who floated in the middle of the room. After exactly two seconds, the rest of the snare moved in accordance to Aleister's silent command and surrounded the knight – luminous clusters smaller than his palm fluttered together like a swarm of fireflies. Their glow shifted from pale blue to a bright yellow and then a deep purple, expanding as each of these miniature bombs chain-reacted.
By that time though, Galahad was no longer on the ground.
To escape the swarm, he had taken to the air until he landed on the ceiling. There, he applied enough strength and velocity to defy gravity and he raced across the room upside down. Simultaneously, Aleister gathered the scattered energy left from the deflagration. With it, he created large spheres around himself, overloaded with mana for the knight who was charging at him on such a predictable trajectory.
In the middle of his course, Galahad materialized his shield; but he didn't need it for protection.
"Hmph!"
He gripped the aegis and threw it like a discus toward Aleister. One sphere protecting the latter was shattered before it ever got a chance to fire, whereas the shield kept toward the magus. One metre away from target though, it froze dead in its tracks, suspended into the air as though nailed to an invisible surface. But that wasn't an issue, for the next thing that approached was Galahad himself.
He had dove into the gap in Aleister's defenses, escaping the barrage that scorched the ceiling.
It took a fraction of a second to close in – his blade whipped the air and moved to cleave his opponent in half. Aleister brandished one hand and intercepted it, all while preparing an attack with the other. Galahad acted faster: while his sword was blocked, he reached for his shield with his free hand. He pulled on it with an inordinate amount of strength and wrenched it free of its shackles, whereupon he swung it toward Aleister's head. A hit like that would be enough to break through a bunker wall, let alone the Caster's skull.
Before this confrontation could be resolved, time seemed to slow down. Space shifted around Aleister like water around a turbine, producing centrifugal force that shouldn't have existed. Everything spun around, Galahad was forcefully displaced and the shield fractured the floor, widening the hole at the centre of the room.
"There is no secret to the way you fight." Aleister muttered. "As plain as a book. What is the matter? I haven't needed to escape once since we came here."
He waved toward the knight.
In answer, a colossal hand made of mist arose. It flew across the room at blinding speed and swept Galahad like a gale. The Saber slammed through the wall and disappeared on the other side in a concert of crumbling stone. An instant later, he leaped back into the room – but from a completely different direction. A ruse of that level couldn't trump Aleister's all-seeing eye, unfortunately. The magus had played his card before the knight had even come charging this way, as proven by the pillars of light which began emerging between them.
While Galahad shot at full speed toward his opponent, he raised his foot high and stomped it down with all his might. The shockwave broke the pillars adjacent to him; the rest had already been sliced apart by his blade, and so he kept on without slowing a bit. The power behind his stomping had the side effect of fracturing the ground from one end of the room to another; the pieces were glued back together by Aleister's power and restored as though nothing had happened.
The holy knight was still approaching at full speed.
Aleister raised his hand in front of him. At once, space twisted around the Saber and contracted. He couldn't crush him completely with this power alone but it made him stop nonetheless. The invisible binds tightened further around Galahad, forcing one knee to the ground and pushing him down stronger still.
Galahad too a deep breath.
Then, he stood up – he broke through the prison of space abruptly, his own power whirling around him as a heavenly glow.
In the same motion, he had swung his sword upward with both arms. The blade parted everything that stood in its way and beyond, save for Aleister – before the slash could threaten him, he had deflected it with his defenses. Pebbles were hurled every which way, but those that flew toward the magus were disintegrated without touching him.
"Splendid. But unsurprising." Aleister said. "You must think otherwise, I suppose. This much tribulation and you haven't achieved what matters."
He spread his arms horizontally on either sides. Strands of blue wavered into existance and became fully tangible, weaving themselves into a single cloth of moonlight. Galahad brandished his sword but that was exactly what Aleister was interested in: the moonshine strip slithered smoothly yet also fastly. It approached Galahad and wrapped around his weapon, then around his hands and now it wanted to take his arms too.
"Are you tired of struggling for naught against absolute power?"
Saber's entire body tensed. He resisted the pull trying to suck in not only his flesh but also his essence. It was like arm wrestling, with each side trying to grind the other and to flip them over completely.
"...You don't have absolute power." Galahad stated matter-of-factly. "It's not even a mimicry of it."
He bent his back.
The phantasmagoric cloth separated in two, fraying at the edges until it was nothing more than blue sand. The holy blade was stabbed into the floor, where it had left another deep gash. Across from him, the magus was still floating with a grin, but that confidence was tarnished by the thin cut descending from his cheek to his jaw.
"I've faced people who could bend reality to their will. You don't fight like them." Galahad straightened up and stared right into his opponent's eyes. "You keep as much control as you can, but it's a bluff. A fanciful show to make yourself seem more dangerous. You can't make it more convincing because you know how fake it is. Rider of Black and Avenger had an unshakable faith, one that shaped their lives and their world. You don't have that – you can't make me yield."
"..."
Aleister smiled.
It wasn't the undisturbed smirk he wore as a habit.
It was a distorted mouth, writhing with uncontained excitement and the demonic delirium leaking out of his eyes.
"I take offense, you know?" He hummed like a bird. "I have a deep faith steering me as well, even if it serves only to search for what doesn't exist. If this realm was fake, then how comes you haven't slain me yet? A lifetime's worth of patience, endeavor and passion. I know it better than anyone – if I keep to my faith just a little longer, it's as good as real."
Mist gathered near him, taking on the shape of four distinct objects: a wand, a jar, a coin and a compass rose.
They floated at even distance from each other, forming a perfect square around the magus.
"That being said, I can't deny everything you've said. While this Temple grants me power, I cannot undo the fabric of reality to sew back however I like. Unlike a Holy Grail, this new world doesn't exist to satisfy my desires. But it does have its own set of rules." Aleister's enthusiasm was slowly taking over, his voice tuned with fascination and glee. "Tell me Saber: do you know what it takes to change this world we live in? Very little when you think about it. Humans have that potential by nature, not by oneself but as a subconscious whole. Once, gods were revered and spirits could roam the land. But as the planet passed into the hands of men, they saw that not every part of it required miracles. Reality began to suit their new perspective. Belief is a powerful thing, especially when it is shared among all human beings. What then, what if all of mankind could tacitely agree to believe in something?"
"...They can't." Galahad asserted.
"That's right. It is such an implausibility, not even a miracle would be enough to cover it. Although Mystery has regressed globally, the process didn't follow the same pattern everywhere on the planet. Humans are born in a specific environment and learn from it; they accept what is there as truth and find ways to explain the rest. If somehow they all had the same passing thought at the same time, that's still not enough. They need to believe from the bottom of their heart, to trust in the arrival of a new era! That's not something they can do of their own will. But can they be made to do it? It's been my life's work to find out!"
Aleister snapped his fingers.
The wand twirled wildly in the air and moved toward Galahad. Both extremities were set alight and left a fiery trails which combined and flared up. A deluge of flames washed over the knight. It was as harmless as a breeze, his armaments were still guarding against fire. Although, the burning veil was also hindering his field of view – the compass moved next, rotating by exactly 90° before falling apart. Blades of wind danced and diced the fiery veiled, with Galahad in the midst of it.
"Humans can be molded, you know? They can be altered without anyone noticing – whether it be the body, the mind or the soul, there are intricate parts that can't be fully grasped. And yet, they hold the most sway over who we are."
Once again, it didn't affect Galahad.
Even with his vision obstructed, his instinct told him everything he needed to know. He swiftly dashed through the razor-sharp gales and made toward Aleister. However, what followed didn't match his intuition: the wind and the fire should have torn each other to shreds, yet instead they came to fuse. The searing heat was harnessed and made to flow in curved patterns, until it seemed tangible – behind Galahad, a blazing rose bloomed.
He turned around to watch out for it.
"I experimented with many methods. Ceremonies, self-hypnosis, drugs... I crafted my own rules carefully, I gave birth to a new 'belief' which could be condensed into a single book. A fake religion you might call it, but its exact purpose was to give faith. The Abbey of Thelema was my laboratory, its faithfuls were my test subjects. They were modified so that their subconscious could be harmonized into a whole. And, most important of all, they made up an environment where a Moonchild could appear."
At that same moment, the coin was tossed inside the jar and the latter shot in direction of the flame sculpture.
Galahad was still trying to figure out what hand the magus was playing, but he was also aware of the two objects in his back. He ignored the rose and leaped the strike the jar; it couldn't be allowed to rejoin the wand and the compass. When his blade intercepted the ethereal construct though, the coin bounced around the inside of the jar: earth and water melted into one, creating a lump of clay which the sword bogged itself into. The grey mass grew larger and heavier, weighing Galahad's arm down.
When the imbedded sword crashed into the ground, the rose writhed. Its bright orange petals swayed wildly, before detaching themselves one after another and swooping on the knight. The latter promptly let go of his sword and spun around. The petals had turned into blades with an otherworldy aura. Galahad was disarmed but not defenseless; he summoned his shield and, rather than to wait for them, he went on the offensive. The shield was swung like a blunt weapon, shattering petals left and right. When that wasn't enough, he used his fist and his feet to destroy them, at the cost of intense pain.
In the end, he had made sure not a single one of them got through.
When he looked back behind him however, sure enough his sword was gone.
He found it floating near Aleister, still stuck into the clay clump.
Although, he had expected as much.
"...You took away their wish. And you made them take up your own."
"It's more common than you think." The magus eyed the holy sword. "Warfare and politics rely heavily on the fervor of those who follow the lead, but only in service of the ones leading. And, there are also those who have lost all semblance of hope, those who will cling onto someone else's dream and claim it as their own. Of course, my method is less vulgar than that. Rather than impress desires onto them, I modify their underlying vision of the world they inhabit. You could say it's an improvement."
"I see." Galahad frowned. "So that's why this new world is so feeble."
"An unfortunate turn event, that's all. I had decided on Fuyuki City from the start; it's only fitting, don't you think? I've been working on it ever since I was summoned. No one knew about it, but I've slowly been preparing the ritual and adding a drug of my own creation into the city's water supply. Unfortunately, due process should have continued for another four months, and I simply don't have that margin. This Temple is a closed bottle experiment, not yet fitting for expansion. In spite of it all though, I can call it a perfect proof of concept!"
Demonic eyes sprouted all over the magus' face, hands and clothing.
All staring at the defiant Servant.
"My dream is already a reality! Nothing is absolute – I can make you yield!"
Mist wafted out of thin air near him, forming a new set of wand, jar, coin and compass.
Galahad put up his guard, ready to face any new ordeal even without his sword. The difference wasn't all that great. It was an unstable, oscillating balance. No matter how much it tipped again him, he wouldn't give up.
"There's only one small issue." Aleister squinted. "You must be aware of it already. It's an unexpected thorn in my side, one I would rather deal with than let it propagate. That's where you come in: when you and your Master arrived here, I expected a fight. But you ignored the Moonchild and headed straight for the poisonous blood of the Grail. The most befitting answer is that you believe you can take care of it. That you have something that will let you."
"..."
"If you do, I will be taking it for myself."
The four objects drifted in circles around Aleister. Which one he would use and to what effect, there was no way to tell. Nonetheless Galahad acted first and shot toward the centre of the room. Aleister flashed a carnivorous grin and raised his arm. The mist tokens stopped spinning; it settled on the wand and the compass again. Galahad leaned forward and prepared to lunge with all he had to break through.
That was what he had planned to do, yet all of sudden his intuition warned him.
* Ishin – Assassination of Boddhisattva
"...!"
"...!"
Aleister also noticed it.
He waved his hand, and the two mist tokens precipitously changed direction. They faced a part of the room that was empty – the next moment, there was a great shockwave and it was empty no more. A silvery Servant had burst through several walls in one charge to barge into the battlefield like a stampeding beast. As soon as his silhouette appeared, Berserker found an obstacle on the way: the wand placed itself atop the compass, and both spun in opposite directions. Fire erupted as a cyclone, and from the heart of it the shape of a great fire bird emerged. It let out a cry calling for the dawn and attacked Berserker.
But the latter didn't so much as blink.
His large hand reached for the bird's neck and he crushed it. The rest of it fell apart in a mighty deflagration, which he paid no heed to; he accepted the burning embrace and sped forward.
"Now that is a surprise!" Aleister laughed. "I thought you would wait for death next to your Master. Are you finally tired of running away?"
"There is nowhere to run. Not for us. Not for you." Berserker's voice resounded with a metallic tone. "I will destroy you here."
"There's no need to compare us." He shrugged. "You're already a hanging man. There's no future for you."
"I need no future."
The coin was tossed into the jar, which rose like a comet to greet the oncoming threat. Before Berserker could smash it to smithereen though, Aleister pointed at the jar and fired an arrow of light. The projectile broke into the vessel from behind; when it came out on the other side, it was as a myriad of energy beams. They rushed out of the crumbling jug like the heads of a hydra and met the silvery giant like a raging torrent.
Berserker made large sweeps of his broadsword, sickling many of the spells, but there were too many. They overwhelmed and battered him, whereas he tried to press on despite their violence. He swung his weapon as well as his fist. Regardless, his figure soon vanished behind the flow of intense light.
But then, something tore its way through the barrage – a sword of black and white loomed out and spun fiercely in direction of Aleister.
The magus raised both of his arms and caught the large edge with incandescent palms. The impact didn't leave so much as a scratch on him.
However, he had also greatly underestimated the power behind it.
"...!"
Aleister was pushed back violently, ejected from his rightful position in the middle. He managed to stop himself before he could slam into the wall but the surprise was greater than the harm. This distracted him sufficiently to allow Berserker to break through the concentrated barrage of beams. His mirror-like skin was badly nicked and fractured, yet his bearing made it seem meaningless. With a single powerful leap, he crossed the hole showing the world below. The sheer momentum made him a bigger threat than the sword he had hurled.
However, Aleister merely touched the broadsword before him. The blade was sent hurtling back toward its owner with as much power, pushing the silvery giant who was forced to catch it.
"Interesting. Making calculated moves with that strength of you is a frightening thought. But you haven't really become stronger than before." Aleister gathered light in his hand, aimed at the tumbling Servant. "...!"
No spell was cast though.
He didn't have the time: a blade whistled through the air toward him. Galahad had not remained idle while Berserker was taking the spotlight. As a matter of fact, when dislodging Aleister from the centre of the room and rushing after him, the once-mad Servant had also shattered the boulder holding the holy sword hostage. The knight had not missed this occasion to retrieve his weapon while dashing toward the magus' blind spot.
And as ever, his attack was dangerously fast and precise.
Aleister noticed him only when the blade was about to claim his blood.
The next moment, he wasn't there anymore – he had teleported out of Galahad's range.
"...You don't understand." Galahad turned to look at the ceiling, where his opponent had ran to. "There's something we must do, so we fight. Even if it didn't look like we can win, that would still be true."
Aleister looked down at the two of them with an undecipherable expression. Berserker was waiting for him to make a move, but he also seemed on the verge of charging regardless; his madness may be gone, but something wild was still permeating him like an aura. Both he and Galahad were still inside Aleister's eye, an undisturbed gazer which grapsed everything offered to it. This battlefield was still the stage he had brought into existence.
Eventually, the Caster tilted his head.
From his neck, another head emerged. Then it was the shoulder and the hips, and then the rest. After splitting into two identical images, his smirk returned. Both Casters descended before flying separate ways for their respective opponents. Each of them was flanked by two tokens: Galahad was approached by the Aleister wielding a wand and a wind compass.
"I assure you, I perfectly understand." The two mist objects collided. An iridescent flame appeared between Aleister's palm, changing colour every second. "Understanding has always been my goal. But, you see, it makes little difference if you don't have what I want. I never stay my hand until I'm satisfied."
Galahad had gotten used to his opponent's tendency to aim for his sword. Though it ressembled an attack, he predicted a trick. And so, when the magus was upon him, he simply threw his weapon into the air. Aleister looked up in confusion for a split second. Meanwhile, the fire in his hand separated into ten flames, each of a different hue.
The knight quickly glanced over them. When his eyes landed on the green flame, his vision was blurred and filled with the same colour. That's when he understood their nature; each of those was a different curse. If one of them was a trap to blind him, the others must have more harmful effects. That was fine though. If there had been any hesitation, losing his sight would have been dangerous.
But Galahad knew exactly what he had to do.
Rather than waiting for Aleister to show more of his techniques, the knight ducked. He made it look like he was about to ram into the flying Caster, but instead he rolled underneath him. That wouldn't get him out of his sight but it forced Aleister to stop and analyze. In the middle of his roulade, Galahad kicked the ground and soared up. He was on the same level as Aleister, as his instinct told him. And so he reached up – the holy sword fell exactly into his hand.
Although, he had grabbed it by the blade and swung it down like a sledgehammer.
Aleister slipped away, his spell was interrupted. Galahad recovered his sight and landed in a fighting stance.
He pressed on the assault and closed in, but Aleister was also making his next move already: he flew backward with a chuckle.
The other Aleister had been harrassing Berserker with undulating reflections and was avoiding the broadsword. When his other half moved, so did he in the same manner. When both images passed by each other, their tokens were shuffled around. Galahad was welcomed by the other Aleister wielding the wand and the coin.
"Hmph."
Galahad swung his sword with both arms, but it was a feint. Just as he had expected, this Aleister didn't take him head on; he flew higher to tower above him. Galahad delivered a second stroke in the continuity of the first one. He cut a deep gash along the ceiling, threatening its stability. As for the magus, he had teleported slightly to the side:
"That artifact at your core would make a pleasant trophy. Perhaps I might get something out of it."
He grabbed the wand and used it to knock the coin in Galahad's direction.
As soon as the tokens clashed, the coin was wreathed in fire and transformed into a white-hot mass. It split up again and again; the result was a shower of high-speed projectiles falling onto Galahad. With an expert hand, he moved his blade to deflect or send back all of them. That being said, the abnormal force behind them made it hard to do more than that. When hitting the floor or the wall, those projectiles bounced back and returned with no less power.
One of them struck his shoulder. Another, his thigh.
In spite of it, he progressed nimbly through the crossfire of many white comets and avoided unnecessary damage. All the while, he kept his eyes on the magus above him. There was many different moves he could make, all of which ended with Aleister getting away. Taking him by surprise was nigh impossible as long as he had his eyes on you. Considering what had happened in the streets of Fuyuki, landing a decisive blow would require destroying one of his spiritual cores, making matters more difficult.
On his side, Berserker was testing that theory more directly, though none of his hits could get to his opponent.
While Galahad pondered over how to deceive the magus, the projectiles surrounding him turned into sand and vanished. Once again, Aleister's images traded their weapons and enemies. The knight chose to just watch instead of attacking; an idea was budding in his mind.
Aleister brandished the wand and the jar.
"...!"
At that moment, something changed.
On the other side of the room, Berserker charged. He made it look like his target was the Aleister in front of him, but he dashed past him and towards his clone. He appeared to have gotten the same idea as Galahad: the magus could handle them one at a time, but not both of them at once. That was why he had to resort to become two himself.
Aleister had noticed the silvery warrior coming at full throttle.
Galahad was at the ready but held back; Berserker had to be the first to strike.
If the magus decided to dodge by teleporting, the knight would be there to punish him. If he decided to stand his ground, he would be caught in a pincer attack. Whichever he chose, that was the occasion Galahad had been waiting for.
"You must think you can overwhelm me if it's the two of you."
Aleister chose to stay.
The wand and the jar were joined, white sparks flew from them. The other Aleister had joined the coin and the compass to a similar result. While Saber and Berserker were closing their trap, all four tokens flew up and gathered. Upon contact, the sparks turned from white to a deep blue – the mist was blown away by a mass of raw energy.
Before either the silvery warrior or the knight could strike him down, an air-shattering outburst of light filled the room. The deflagration swallowed up everything; Galahad had to summon his shield and held it up firmly. Even so he was blown off his feet by the blast and all sound vanished for a moment. The light spread above and below, bursting through the ceiling and all the floors above it.
From the outside, it looked as though the Boleskine House had been perforated by a radiant spear.
When calm returned, the room had turned into a wasteland. Moonlight spilled from the large breach above, whereas the floor had been completely incinerated. Galahad was still in a single piece; the walls had been pulverized, which gave him somewhere to stand despite the destruction. Likewise, Berserker had made it through, albeit at a heavier price.
And, laughing scornfully before them, Aleister had returned to his place at the centre.
"The results are conclusive. Facing two Servants at once is well within my abilities after all." Smoke from the burning fields had risen up through the hole in the mansion's stomach. The smoldering red glow adorned the magus. "That's all I was curious about. With that out of the way, I will ask you to disappear."
His clone had also been caught in the explosion, which didn't matter at all for Aleister: an identical figure emerged as though his shadow had come to life, and there were two of him again. Both Casters vanished together, to reappear in completely separate spots.
"I've already grasped your fake legend, it means nothing to me." One of them teleported at point blank range to Berserker, with his finger aimed at him.
"You have also overstayed your welcome." The other appeared in front of Galahad, with both arms overflowing with mana. "But I will take my time to dissect you."
Galahad squared up with both sword and shield.
Now that the battlefield had been drastically transformed, he studied his next move. Should he stay here? No – the ground was ready to crumble, he had no way to get back onto the mansion if he fell. Should he fall back? No – the maze of hallways wasn't fit for a fight like this, he would only be giving Aleister an advantage. Which meant there was no good option for him. A third option did cross his mind but Aleister didn't look like he would let him through.
The magus advanced, holding a highly concentrated spell in each hand.
Galahad gripped his sword and frowned.
If he put enough of a fight here, he could scare him into leaving the way open.
However-
"Wha..."
As it turned out, he didn't need to: Aleister's eyes widened and he froze.
He looked behind him, at where Berserker and his clone were standing.
The other Aleister should have used a counter-spell immediately and neutralized his target. And for that matter, that was exactly what had happened: a large portion of Berserker's skin was flaking, as though ready to peel off. However, the silvery warrior had his arm raised in front of him. The inside of his fist was crimson – the pulpous remains of Aleister's neck.
"...hhh...h..."
Reddish foam came out of the clone's mouth. His head was hanging limply over his shoulder, without bone or muscles to support it. With one last rattle, he returned to nothing. That wouldn't affect Aleister himself, so it should be without consequences. Yet it was clear from the Caster's expression that he was obsessed to know how that could have happened in the first place.
It was rather simple though: the moment the clone had appeared next to Berserker, the latter had already moved to kill him. Not because he was faster than the magus, but because he had been waiting for this from the very start.
"Yes, my power is fake. I was a man who bemoaned his own worthlessness. I threw it all away if it meant I could be something greater. My legend does not exist, everything I once was is no more. Even my name." The silvery giant peered at Aleister with an intensity matched only by his fervor. "Because of that, I understand her. I will never get back what I lost, but that girl still has time. Though I am no one, I will fight for someone who still has a future. If you think you can kill me... come and see for yourself."
Aleister clicked his tongue.
Galahad didn't waste a moment and brought his sword down on him. He executed two slashes in a blink, neither of which cut more than air. The magus had gotten away, but that was fine as well. The way was open just as he had wanted; Galahad let his intuition guide him and jumped. Since the roof was open all the way to the top of the mansion, there was more than enough surface to move upward.
He didn't have to worry about Aleister – in the meantime, the latter was busy facing off against a stubborn opponent.
Just as Galahad had done, the Servant of Madness sprang forth. But all he cared was to crush his target floating in the air. Aleister evaded his charge pretty easily but Berserker returned with even more ferociousness. Any time the magus slipped away from him, he landed against a wall or a piece of hallway and bounced back, returning again and again like a starving lion.
And yet, little retaliation came from Aleister. If anything, it almost looked like Berserker was keeping him on his toes. That couldn't be true: his eyes were observing, weighing his opponent's strength and calculating the odds at unmatched speed. And yet he also squandered every occasion to get back at the silvery giant. There was a hesitation, the apprehension of one who had been bested despite their superiority, and who was still reeling from it.
"Some peccadillo." But that could not last forever. "You wasted your chance to catch me by surprise."
As Berserker pursued him endlessly, the magus kept escaping upward. Eventually, he swiped his arm and unleashed energy beams at him, at such an angle as to stop his course. Berserker was shot down to a lower height but that did not prevent him from rushing back all the same. Even with the supressive fire Aleister unleashed at him, he endured through them and kept hunting him down.
"How curious. You should be able to grant yourself the speed and toughness you lack, yet you persist in vain." Aleister's gaze sharpened. "Hmph. So you've reached your limit."
"Indeed." The fake warrior took a mighty leap. "I cannot enhance myself further. The end of my legend is near."
Though he said so, the fierceness of his assault belied any weakness. That was still too little to reach the Caster who increased the pressure with well-placed blasts of mana. At this point, Berserker had to run across the hole's surface to dodge before he could charge again, and so he lost a tremendous amount of momentum. To make up for it, he mustered his will and made a particuliarly strong dash toward Aleister.
Midway through his course however, he met an invisible wall – space contracted around him and put shackles around his limbs.
Aleister sent him flying back into the wall with a flick of the wrist. Then, he dragged him like a worn out doll through his invisible hand. He made him dance a perfect circle around the hole, grinding him against the stone before nailing him in place.
"You fight for a future that doesn't exist." He sighed. "You're not blind, are you? You've seen what's outside. If your Master was involved with the Holy Grail's making, surely she understands as well."
"That... might be so..." Berserker grunted while trying to fight the invisible force quashing him. He straightened up his neck and glared at Aleister. "There is no more... hope to guide us. That's why... we'll use despair to push ourselves forward!"
He collected every last shred of strength he was capable of and he heaved.
His effort pulverized the wall behind him, but it also broke through the invisible barrier.
Even Aleister was slightly surprised that he had managed to break free. Berserker came soaring at him with the violence of a tidal wave, and he thrusted his broadsword to impale the magus where he stood. The latter saw no time to erect a defense and resorted to leaping through space, only a metre above the juggernaut. The only feat that failure of a Heroic Spirit could accomplish was to wear himself out.
However, that was his first mistake – after all, there was someone here who could match his speed.
"...!"
At the exact moment Aleister reappeared above Berserker, a holy sword came darting toward him. This was all too quick, as though the knight had known exactly where to aim. Aleister hadn't even fully materialized yet, and so he had to teleport against in quick succession. It wasn't a careful, deliberate dodge but a reflex spurred by alarm. As such, he appeared again only a short distance away.
That was his second mistake.
The next thing Aleister saw was a clenched fist.
The holy sword had passed by him and planted itself on the wall. That's right, there was no hand holding it. Galahad had lied in wait for when the magus would lower his guard and had hurled his weapon. Immediately after, he rushed forth.
He reached supersonic speed by kicking off the wall.
Then, he increased that speed twofold by using Berserker as a stepping stone.
He already knew where Caster was going to teleport. And so, he shot up and drew back his arm. Aleister reappeared and their gazes met – Galahad threw his fist up. His knuckles buried themselves into Aleister's face: it was not a scratch or a miss, but a solid hit. Aleister didn't have the time to make a sound, the full force of the uppercut sent him flying helplessly upward. In fact, Galahad had put so much strength into it that it hurled him all the way out of Boleskine House.
But that wasn't enough.
Galahad continued his course until he hit the wall and retrieved his sword. Then, he sprinted up the hole after Aleister. He crossed many floors at once, until at last he made it to the rooftop, a place with plenty of room to fight. He could feel vibrations in the ground indicating that Berserker was on his way too; the silvery giant emerged and landed behind the knight.
A bit further ahead, Aleister stood hunched over. His face was covered by his hand, though one could glimpse his cold glare through his fingers.
"..."
Galahad held up his sword in two hands and confronted that glacial look. He couldn't do so for long though – suddenly, a warning rang at the back of his mind. It didn't come from the magus; Galahad spun around and raised his blade in defense. Just in time to catch the broadsword that came swinging like a guillotine.
"...!"
The impact was strong. Yet despite his surprise, he resisted and stood in place. But this wasn't a good position at all. Berserker followed it up immediately with another swing, and this time Galahad decided to let himself be pushed away. He only flew for a bit before landing squarely. Berserker didn't give chase, but there was mistaking that look in his eyes: there was no blind fury, only a braced determination.
"...I see. You're right." The knight closed his eyes. "We're not allies."
It was their combined efforts which had allowed them to even out this battle. That being said, they hadn't come here to stop Aleister's plan. It wasn't a fight to save the world this time. Each of them stood equally apart, in a triangle around the breack piercing the middle of the mansion.
There were three Servant here – one of them would get his hand on the Holy Grail.
Only one.
"..."
"..."
A dry chuckle arose. Instead of cutting the tension, it made it thicker.
"You'll fight even with no hope, was it?" Aleister lowered his hand. His face was intact, although his chin was smeared in blood. "That has to be true if you'd fight me so earnestly while I hold every one of your lives in my hands. If I let this mansion drop like a dead weight, what would happen then?"
"...If you wanted that, you would have done it from the outset." Galahad said. He knew Leo could count on the help of those around him, so he wasn't entirely worried. Nonetheless, Aleister's implications were distasteful.
"I wonder about that." The magus chuckled some more. But then, his grin faded and he looked over his shoulder. "I won't have to do do anything in the end."
The meaning behind those words was cryptic.
However, it soon became clear when the whole mansion shook violently. Galahad and Berserker turned their faces to the East, to the mountains.
A colossal hand had grabbed the mansion.
"You're going to find out anyway!" A demonic smile stretched Aleister's lips.
Another tremor came; the entire star tilted.
* Fata Morgana – A Noble Death
The Unborn was crawling in their direction.
Blood drained from Maria's face as that fact cemented in her mind. The reality that this thing was alive and all of its thoughts were turn toward them. It wasn't the way it moved or the danger it represented; it was a more fundamental fear, the same kind one would feel when caught in the wrath of a natural disaster.
She fidgeted for a moment before holding Silvelune's shoulder.
"Silvy, we have to get out of here..." She said in a choked voice.
"No. I'm not going anywhere." The sickly girl replied. "This is the only place I need to be! No more running or waiting in anguish: that is my only way out!"
"I won't let you!" Panic seeped into Maria's heart at the same time bravado kicked in to numb it. "I don't know what you're trying to do, but one look at that monster and I know it's insane!"
She didn't have an answer to her friend's despair. But she had her own terms for a happy ending. She wasn't going to watch her throw what little she had left down the drain. And so, she disregarded Silvelune's decision; she passed her arms around her and tried to lift her up. Silvelune might protest but she was in no position to resist. That was how it should have been. And yet, when Maria wanted to carry her friend away, the latter put up a fight. She held onto the bench and wouldn't let go against all reason; as though the imminence of a fateful moment was filling her with strength.
Maria wasn't a superhuman like Galahad or Hatsuyo.
Either Silvelune's resistance was that impressive, or Maria herself was too exhausted and weakened. Either way, she was appalled that she couldn't do more than that. She had to haul up Silvelune now, she had to take her to safety.
To safety... but, where was that?
While struggling to save someone who categorically rejected it, the raven-haired girl started thinking about the mansion they were stranded on. Her stomach sank into her shoes once it dawned that it didn't matter where they went; this artificial star in its entirety was marked for destruction.
Down below, the Unborn was moving almost as slowly as the mansion, dragging its massive torso across the scroched mountainside and what had been a forest. With half of its body missing, it had no hope of reaching the sky and nabbing its prey. Although, that too was changing fast: as it advanced, the lost souls of Babel were gathering around its wretched body. They clung onto it and crawled up like maggots. As more of them were reunited with their nest, something poured out of the abomination's unfinished abdomen.
It looked like a wriggling, indistinct mass at first.
But as became larger, it split into two – it was starting to form thighs.
Eventually, the Unborn stopped using its hands to creep around and tried to push itself up. A laborious effort, as highlighted by the way its titanic frame wavered sluggighly. Even so, its back arched, the mangled silhouette detached itself from the land to take its first steps. He only had stump legs for that purpose, yet still it put them down and tried to walk. The rest of it body swayed from left to right, learning the correct balance to earn a life away from the ground. And it was learning fast.
On its way, it collected the living curses swarming across the tide. With every step, its limbs stretched out, slowly approaching completition. Mud was pouring out from gaps in its flesh, like a badly glued-together costume, but it was doing its best to tighten those interstices. And so the Unborn rose, gaining terrain on the stone star that was still barely out of reach.
It lifted a thin, dry arm toward them.
In turn, Silvelune reached down.
"I'm also guilty of bringing you to life, in a way. If there was any worth to that mistake, a sliver of value in a heap of strife and pain, then give it to me!" She gritted her teeth and planted her gaze into the abyss that was the Unborn's eyes. "If you won't, I will take it myself!"
The amalgamation of curses and unfulfilled wishes was standing tall now. With heavy yet long strides, it approached the mansion ever faster. Maria was still holding onto Silvelune but she wasn't thinking of pulling her away anymore. She wasn't thinking of much at all in fact: her feet felt ice-cold and nailed into place, her mouth was dry and agape, unable to produce a sound.
There was a low sound, a deep rumble but also the light song of the wind.
Like a storm booming in the distance, the Unborn seemed to speak to them.
Or perhaps that was only intended for the pale girl calling out to it.
Silvelune's jaw tensed up as veins popped up on her temples. Her eyes were staring into nothingness, still with the same intensity. The tip of her outstretched hand was emitting a purple light, from which glowing lines covered her arm and disappeared into her sleeve. Most likely, they ran all the way to her chest; it had only been for a few months, but she had carried a shard of the Cup of Heaven within herself. Through that tenuous bond and her knowledge of the vessel she had helped create, she delved into the unknown hiding inside the humanoid nightmare. The Unborn's golden crown, the Lesser Grail was pulsating with light, as though to send a message.
"What are you doing?"
Someone touched Maria's shoulder and made her jolt. She had to blink twice before she was out of her torpor, and she looked back at Ewald. The latter was holding up better than her. He winced slightly when he glanced at the Unborn but didn't lose his cool, and some of that composure rubbed off onto Maria.
"Weren't you taking her with you?" He said. "Hurry up – we don't have the time."
Maria wanted to justify herself but the seriousness on his face reminded her how dire the situation was. And so, without further debate she frantically tried to lift her friend up. Silvelune was no longer giving her a hard time, she was lost in some faraway place. Maria almost sighed in relief when she managed to get her away from that bench.
However, a chill ran down her spine.
Ewald was right: they had taken too long.
The Unborn swayed backward, slinging its right arm up toward the sky. It went without saying, the flying mansion was exactly on its trajectory. And the height matched perfectly; the colossal hand grabbed onto Boleskine House, digging its nails into the walls and strengthening its clutch. Fortunately, it had gone for the central area instead of the branch where they stood.
On the other hand, the mansion as a whole was shaken up by the impact.
Maria lost balance and nearly tumbled over the edge. That was prevented by the low wall next to her, but that was another collision the raven-haired girl hadn't been prepared for. She was still on board but the violence of the shock made her lost her grip: Silvelune sprawled on the paved floor. Once the pain had gone down, Maria struggled to get back on her feet. With a groan, she searched for her friend.
And at that moment...
"Ah...hhh...!" Silvelune had a sudden spasm, as though someone had punched her in the stomach. Something splattered over the floor from her mouth. "Guh..."
Maria's eyes widened.
It was a dark red stain.
"Silvy...!"
She doubled in effort to get closer. For a moment she feared that the fall had accidentally caused internal bleeding. When she saw Silvelune's face however, something struck her as odd: she was looking back at Maria, no longer staring off into the distance. Her mouth was covered in blood but there was something even more disturbing – the sheer sense of defeat painted over her face.
"There's nothing..." The sickly girl muttered feebly. "It's a wretchedness with no bottom... there's no way out..."
Maria staggered back to her feet and took a step. Unfortunately, though the tremor had passed they were no safe from the consequences: there was a dry, short-lived noise and the ground cracked. Only minor damage overall, all that collapsed was the tip of the branch and the bench.
And that included the portion where Silvelune was laying listlessly.
"...!"
Maria slipped and had to lean onto the railing again. She wanted to lunge and catch her, but her legs were not cooperating. Silvelune was veiled in indifference, devoid of the determination she had brandished a moment ago. She didn't react to her imminent doom, even as her body tipped over and fell.
Someone rushed past Maria.
At the same moment the sickly girl fell off, Ewald dived after her. Through precision and focus, he had lined up his jump perfectly and managed to catch her with one arm before she went too far into the void. His other arm was brushing against the broken pathway; he chanted a few quick verses and a light appeared, binding his hand to the stone surface. By sealing himself to the structure, he salvaged both of their lives.
"...You..." Silvelune looked up at him weakly.
"You don't need to thank me." He replied flatly. "I'm only repaying my debt."
Having said that, they were not out of the woods yet. Although they had avoided turning into red splashes dozens of metres below, right now they were hanging in the air with no way up. Maria was bent over the edge but they were out of her reach, even by stooping as low as the floor. Ewald could have climbed back up with ease, if it were by himself. Unfortunately, one of his arms was holding Silvelune while the other was busy keeping them alive.
"..."
The freelancer looked at the girl under his arm, at the one panicking above him and at the devastated land under him. Eventually, he gave Maria a meaningful glance; and he started swinging back and forth.
"Catch her."
He was using his fixated hand as a pivot, which had to be grueling in his position. Nonetheless, after accumulating some momentum he cried a signal and threw Silvelune up with all he had. Maria's hands seized her as she could; the weight almost pulled her over the edge. She put her arms, shoulder and back into and yanked up her friend in a single heave.
"I-I did it...!" She freed all of the air prisoner in her lung. But then, she remembered the man still hanging. "Wait, I'm gonna help you...!"
"No. You take her and you run." Ewald knitted his eyebrows together. "Now. Anywhere but here."
They were tightrop walkers, and their rope was on fire.
The Unborn had retrieved his hand, leaving a gaping hole in the side of the mansion. That was only so it could strike a second time. When the second impact came, Maria was going straight for the entrance to the mansion's maze, whether she liked it or not – the stone star was tipping over dangerously.
Then, it started plummetting.
"I'm not dying here." Ewald frowned, and he took a deep breath. "A life she saved with hers... is worth more than this!"
When the whole structure shook, Hatsuyo and Michael had been scaling the outside wall.
Just as she had expected, now that the layout was clear in her head, it hadn't taken long to reach the extremity of this labyrinth. Once that was done, all there was on the other side was empty air. This wasn't even an obstacle; in the first place, Hatsuyo had wanted to get on top of the mansion and see what she could find. She had paid no heed to Michael's hesitant comments after she had started punching holes into the outer wall and climbing up.
In the first place, she had made those so that he could keep up with her.
Of course, it took no small amount of guts and rashness to use an experimental ladder so high up in the sky. But Michael had at least that. Going from the bottom to the top was no small distance; Hatsuyo climbed it quick and peered over the edge of the roof.
She didn't go higher.
"Hey, what's the hold up?!" Michael finally reached her level. "My hands hurt like crazy here..."
"Hush." Hatsuyo reduced him to silence.
What she laid eyes upon were the figures of three Servants squaring off on top of Boleskine House. From the collateral damage all around, it was hard to tell what stage of the fight it was. And it didn't make a difference since Hatsuyo and Michael obviously couldn't go through there.
"Weren't quick enough." She clicked her tongue.
"What do you mean? Hey?!"
Going back down would only set them back to their starting point. Going up would put them in first line to get iced. Hatsuyo tried to ponder their options as fast as possible, but she wasn't sure what she could risk while Michael was behind her.
That was when the first tremor happened.
"...?!"
"Ah...!"
Her hands instinctively clamped the rim of the mansion. She trusted her grip to keep her in place. But the same couldn't be said about the man with her – Michael's hand slipped, as did his foot. The next second, he fell backward with his face stunned in horror. At that same moment, a hand closed around his wrist.
"Try to regain your footing!" Hatsuyo grimaced.
Her reflexes had let her catch him in time, but now she too was on the verge of falling off. The middle-aged magus was still dangling in front of the handholds she had created, his feet were swinging wildly trying to find some support. One of them landed by chance into a hole but that only put him on a precarious balance.
Hatsuyo thought about smashing the wall right next to them and taking refuge inside the mansion. She couldn't use her arms, so it would have to be her leg; which meant clinging on with just one hand and one foot. They might fall anyway once she destroyed their only support. She had to risk it.
As she was positioning herself for that plan though, her eyes spotted something by pure chance – she saw the agitated silhouettes at the end of one of the star's branches. She confirmed who they were and paused. In the span of that hesitation, the second impact came. Hatsuyo was more alert and held on at first. Unfortunately, the side of the mansion suffered a different fate and started crumbling at the seams.
On the other hand...
"...!" She felt the way the way the building was tilting over. "I can work with that!"
She looked down and let go. It may have been a daring bet but she was certain of her calculations: she and a shouting Michael slid down the wall which had turned into an extreme slope. There wasn't enough of an angle for her to stand on it, but for once she had to thank the weird architecture of this place. Due to how things were moving, one of the star's branches was located under them. When the pair finally slid down to its level, Hatsuyo found enough of a footing to stabilize herself.
"That should make it." She told Michael who wasn't so convinced; he didn't seem eager to stand up.
"I don't think so..." His face grew pale. He was looking over the edge of their walkway. "This is not going to make it at all!"
He was right.
Contrary to what she had believed, the mansion wasn't just tipping to the side; it was starting to fall in a straight line toward the ground.
"Tch!" She crouched down. "Find something to hold onto!"
"Like what?!"
"..."
"Hey, can you hear me?!" He shouted over the wind howling in their ears.
"To my arm." Hatsuyo offered her hand while staring pensively at the side of the mansion. "We're going to your daughter."
From the beginning, Leo had just been wandering aimlessly.
After being separated from Hatsuyo, he had been restless for a while. He didn't really get what was happening, even if he got the gist of what it meant for him. The first thing he had done had been to call for her once, then several times, then for anyone who could hear him. No one had replied. So he had settled for the next best thing and he had gone looking for them.
At first, he had been worried about his own safety of course. Strange places that kidnapped you had become synonymous with danger in his head, and danger had to be lurking somewhere nearby for sure. He had cast a mirage over himself and had picked corridors at random. With tension at an all time high, he hadn't taken the time to memorize his path. It didn't matter how long he walked though, no one was coming for him, friend or foe.
In the end, he cast off the mirage concealing him.
It wasn't like it had saved him much recently. Whether it was Nimrod, Odysseus or Ivan Pedilefey, he just couldn't match these people. Aleister had to be the same. So it was better to save up his endurance while he could, even if it meant being in plain sight. And for one more reason: because it was creeping him out.
He had never thought much about it until today.
It was fun to be an elusive guy whenever he wanted.
But right now, he couldn't bear it.
Even if he was aware of his own presence, he didn't want to be invisible, to be a wandering mind that made no sound and left no traces. Like a ghost lost in limbo. A hunch told him he would never find a way out of this place, even in a better state of mind. He kept walking anyway because there were hallways and that he could keep going. Because it was something the living did, and he wanted to be like them. Because that was the minimum he could do, and he could keep doing it even when his vision blurred or when that damn pain was drilling his head.
"Haaa... Haaa..."
He made sure to take deep breaths as he soldiered on. Not just to pace himself; sometimes he just wanted to feel that he was breathing. Maybe it was due to what had happened inside that burning house. His left leg was stumbling somewhat. Or maybe that was his imagination. He didn't know.
He didn't know.
Where was everyone...?
"This has got to end at some point..." He said louder than he needed to. "I'll ask Hatsuyo to help me walk this time..."
It really felt stupid to talk when he was alone.
It would have been nice if someone were here. It didn't have to be someone chatty, even Ewald would be fine as long Leo knew he was nearby. Actually, he wouldn't even mind if it were someone who wanted to kill him; then he could switch all of his thoughts toward survival. But he only had himself to think about. His own body was trying to bury him alright, but he was already doing his best to fight against it.
He thought about his companions, where they might be lost, what they might be doing.
He had considered calling for Galahad. That wasn't an option of course. He had looked through his Servant's eyes for a bit, a fearsome battle was raging on. He couldn't distract Galahad now. Unlike Leo, he had a lot resting on his shoulder. Meanwhile, Leo was... well, it was the same as usual, wasn't it?
If something came up, he wouldn't be able to fight back.
He couldn't come up with any clever trick.
If he didn't have his illusions, he really couldn't do anything. Michael and Hatsuyo had come along because they knew that. If things didn't go as planned... if the hopefulness wore off to show the nonsense it really was, then he had created an even bigger mess for everyone. He wasn't sure how he could ever make up for that.
...
...
"Hm?"
His legs weren't moving.
When had he stopped walking?
He shook his head and resumed: left foot, right foot, left foot... He didn't care if this was a subtle message or whatever. Although, it was harder to ignore the aching in his temples and the shivers tormenting him despite working up a sweat. When he arrived at an intersection, he didn't even bother to pretend thinking. He couldn't even see that well until he rubbed his eyes.
"Haa... Haa..."
Honestly, he had thought it would be more gradual. Like how a furnace slowly lost its heat and became steel cold. The idea had scared him back then. Waiting for something could be more excruciating than going through with it. Right now though, he would have much prefered it that way. There was no deep reason: he just wanted more time now that he was running out of it. He was like an old light bulb; whenever it flickered, you didn't know for sure if it was light out for good.
When the first tremor happened, it took him a moment to register it.
Not because he hadn't felt it. That was how long it took him to snap out of his own thoughts. He had been thrown off balance and to the ground. It hurt, but he accepted the pain inctinctively, as though it belonged to someone else. There was finally something happening to him yet he was still in a daze. Still, he could tell – he heard a familiar sound of crumbling and the breeze.
He stood up and made toward it.
Just a little bit further, there was the edge of the mansion. A large portion of the outer wall had been blown off by the impact, giving him a superb view of the outside.
"Well there's the exit." He chuckled nervously.
The void below him was the only punchline he needed. Even walking was pointless after all.
He sighed.
"I could sit here and watch the view."
For some reason, it didn't register that whatever had made this breach could also kill him. He had already filed that issue and all the rest into the stuff that was out of his control. It wasn't like the scenery here was pleasant to look at either: down below, everything was burning, and it was hard to look at the horizon without seeing the smoke rising.
But it wasn't an ordinary view. To be leisurely watching this high up, you'd normally need to rent a helicopter or a hot-air balloon. Dawn was starting to peek over the mountains, a smidge of light grey inviting itself between the blue and the red. He didn't know what would happen next, so it was better than staring at a ceiling. There was a flash of white in the corner of his eye, the same kind he had seen from the car; he shook his head to chase the hallucination away.
When the second tremor came up, he wasn't ready.
The impact happened to send him toward a broken part of the wall, which stopped his fall. Sadly, in an eerily familiar twist of fate, it was this hallway as a whole that came off. This time Leo couldn't even cling onto a piece of rubble: before he knew it, he was freefalling out of the mansion.
"Ah..."
For the first time, he saw the unusual shape of it. He also saw his hand, stretched out toward the sky as if he could grab the building which was falling after him. It was probably a good thing that he wasn't looking down, although the air rushing around him caused a flood of shivers from deep within.
How far was he from the ground?
"Wait, wait!"
A voice rose up nearby, something he couldn't comprehend because of how ridiculous it was. But he had to change his mind when something wrapped around his arm: he saw a pair of hands take hold of him. A sight that both made him question his sanity and completely snapped him out of it – when he looked up, he felt like he had been slapped.
"It's you...!"
What Leo saw was the flying, pale figure of Anastasia Angelene.
Thank you for reading.
In comparison to the last, this chapter ended up longer than anticipated. But it's a good thing! At this point, I've got pretty much everything mapped out to the end. Although, it would anticlimatic if I announced how many chapters are left, wouldn't it?
~Legends Storyteller
