From far away in mountains deep
The night of blood in twilight sleep
The armies fight for king and queen
There will be no, no victory
The swords collide with power and force
As mighty men show no remorse
It is the time, the snow is melting
It is the time of reckoning
From far away in mountains deep
The night of blood in twilight sleep
The armies fight for king and queen…
Victory, Two Steps from Hell
Victory
The smoke rising from the battlefield of Koeglin could be seen about thirty kilometers away. The column that seemed unique was actually composed of two main fireplaces and dozens of secondary fires.
As we approached, we discovered the surroundings of the harbor where thousands of dead bodies with arrows were lying in the middle of semi-buried stone balls. The crows were turning in the sky in shouting bands. On the ground, the rats were feasting. The scavengers were the only ones to be happy in this hell...
The fighting was now concentrated around two breaches. The cries of agony, the calls, the goblin horns and the trumpets of the Bretons mingled into a barbaric symphony rhythmed by the clash of arms.
A horrible swirl took to the throat, a mixture of smoke, ash, blood, and fear. This stench hovered over the fight; it was felt at ground level among the corpses and the dying trampled by the fighters. It mingled with the ebb and flow of the battle. It wraps in the wind swirling around the burned fortifications.
"Hold the line!"
Shoulder to shoulder, the militiamen kept their heavy iron-rimmed ash-wood shield tight against them. The shields were pinned with crow-feathered arrows and adorned with numerous cuttings. On the other hand, they held spears that they waved in small strokes.
The men were sweating, splashed with blood, breathing, and panting. They blocked a narrow alley between two combat platforms with sides hailed with incendiary strokes. At times, a man occupying them got up to shoot an arrow and put his head in while the goblins were fighting back.
Facing them...
It was like a raging sea formed by hundreds of vociferous humanoids excited by the smell of blood. By waves, they came to throw themselves on the shields' wall formed by the Bretons. They were shooting arrows and trying to catch the spears...
A dangerous game, sometimes a Breton militiaman was draw in the mass of attackers and disappeared in an instant... More often a goblin received a spear stroke and collapsed to the ground to be trampled.
The mercenary was bareheaded, wounded in the face he had an eye that blinked constantly to get rid of the blood that flowed from his cracked eyebrow arch. On his knees, he stood in the shelter behind the screen of the combat platform. He was running over a flint lighter, his hands trembling, struggling to obey.
A spark burst suddenly and ignited the pong rag in a bottle filled with a heavy, purple liquid.
With a smile tinged with cruel anticipation, the mercenary raised the glass vial in his hand and threw it into the goblin mass. Before lowering his head, he had time to discern the expression of terror from the humanoids. He threw himself on the wooden floor of the platform... and a heatwave passed over his head as the bottle of oil of intense fire exploded, igniting the attackers who died screaming horribly.
The mercenary stood up to contemplate his work, a circle of blackened and tangled corpses still strewn with red flames...
However, he did not have the leisure to triumph. A monster sprang at his side. The Durzog clumsily received himself on the narrow platform. One of its legs and the left side of its mouth bore horrible burns. Unfortunately, it was not in agony, just crazy with pain! It threw itself on its torturer who knew a brief moment of terror before the sauroid tore his head off, relentlessly shredding the corpse before straightening itself screaming its joy.
Caught in the mass of combatants, the goblin witches were hideous creatures with thin, threadlike bodies, dressed in herds. Their big heads were capped with leather caps leaving their long ears free. In their hands, they held long staffs made of badly cut wood, hair and feathers stuck with black glue.
Their magic was just as primitive...
They were shaking their staff whispering incantations and a whirlwind full of ice was forming. Falling on the human archers who still hold this part of the rampart and who shot the goblins below.
The "Blizzard" spell froze the defenders, making them retreat while shivering. Some vacillated and collapsed, emptied of all heat. Ruthlessly, the witches continued to attack... until the defenders were all immobilized. Lying down, crawling, curled up, or holding out their hands, they had turned into ice statues glistening in the sun.
It was a brute wearing a fur loincloth. The humanoid monster was three meters tall and his skin was dirty white, his head round and stupid. He opened a slimy mouth to grumble, lifting up a wooden club.
He struck his opponent. The knight in plate armor and his steed were lifted from the ground and fell to the ground in a tortured metal crash and the morbid whining of a dying horse.
Although wounded, Mordane Hawkstone straightened out.
"Iron Will"
A wave of energy passed through him, strengthening his courage.
"Balyna's Balm"
Blue light swirled around him. As his wounds closed, the Baron of Koeglin cast a third spell on himself:
"Nimbleness"
The blow that the colossus intended for him sank into the ground, Mordane having dodged thanks to the boost of his agility. Yet, as he rushed into contact, he resorted once again to magic:
"Orc's strength"
Briefly haloed with a green glow, the knight rushed into contact and struck the ogre in the leg. He managed to cut off the foot of the monster that swung to the side. As the giant twisted with pain on the ground, Mordane finished him by sticking his sword in his eye.
Breathless, the Baron of Koeglin lifted the visor of his helmet to look around him...
Everywhere his men on horseback or on foot faced ogres, trolls, goblins, and wolves' riders... the enemy was still twice as numerous as them, despite his heavy losses. Exhausted, lacking arrows and oil of intense fire, the Bretons was losing... Soon they would collapse.
Suddenly, golden light spread on the battlefield. Surrounding the defenders, it rose from the ground and ascended towards the sky...
Baron Mordane Hawkstone, like all his men, felt his fatigue fly away as his wounds closed.
Standing on a roof, Merlin stood with his staff raised. He smiled...
"After throwing a "buff" on his allies, throw a "debuff" on your enemies. This is the basis of support..."
The magic staff of the Magician of Flowers was crowned with a sinister blue and violet light. This glow spread across the battlefield, enveloping the humanoids.
Content with him, the magician took a pose worthy of an idol:
"For any support from a hero team or army, ask for Merlin, guaranteed quality. To contact Merlin, type WWW dot merlin caldea dot av, price of a normal call, free quote".
A few roofs away, Shiro took the time to sigh after the Wizard of Flowers who was doing his little act. Artoria must have been a saint for not killing her teacher when she could...
He held Archer's large black bow in his left hand and held out the other to grab an arrow that had just materialized. The projectile flew away. He put a second arrow to the string... a third... a fourth... His gestures followed one another with the purity of a Kyudo(1) adept but executed at superhuman speed. No ordinary human could follow all his movements.
In the midst of the battle between knights and ogres, a shower of arrows fell unexpectedly on the colossi armed with clubs. Most of the audience would have sworn that a dozen shooters had just fired... not a single teenager in a red cape.
The effect was striking. The rain of projectiles swept the giants, starting from the right and going to the left. Each arrow poked itself in a monster's eye or mouth, penetrating to the brain. Before the last arrow was fired, the first monster waved on his legs and collapsed on one knee. Too stupid to realize he was dead, he was foolishly looking at the blood flowing down his face and chest. Then he groaned and fell facedown before the other ogres who, one after the other collapsed at his side.
Like all the defenders of Koeglin, Tohsaka felt fatigue giving up his body. As an experienced Magus, she felt the power and complexity of the spell that had just touched all living allies. Magic worthy of the Magician of Flowers...
Her Magic Circuits having absorbed some of the energy that had just been offered to her, she leaped on a defense platform overlooking the second breach. Here too the fighting reached the height of the violence. Although weakened by Merlin, the enemies were very numerous and grouped in a restricted space...
The evil smile that played for a moment on her lips would have frightened any spectator unfortunate enough to see the "Red Devil" preparing to attack.
Plunging a hand under her skirt, the young woman removed some soul gems from the bag attached to her thigh.
She glanced down at the goblins trying to break the defenses. Then Rin lifted a hand with a small crystal between each phalanx. With a sharp gesture she sent them over the crowd of enemies:
"Gewicht, um zu vendoppel ung!"
Each soul gem turned into silver light that fell back to the ground...
Rin threw herself on the floor of the defense station, her hands on her ears. There were several violent explosions that made the platform tremble, opening craters, projecting earth, stones, smoke, and... corpses to heaven!
The heiress of the Tohsaka stood up to watch the devastation she had caused. A modern artillery salvo would have done no more damage...
A drop of sweat slipped on her cheek, while she pretended to be perfectly happy with the result: "Well, the assault is repelled. Perfect, as always!"
But in fact, her complexion turned green in view of the massacre... and a voice that was that of reason murmured her: "Rin, you have very slightly... exaggerated..."
Only a reflex saved her life. From the corner of her eye, the Magus in red had seen a movement in the smoke. Her legs crossed by the blue lines of the Reinforcement made her perform a phenomenal leap. Behind her, a fireball disintegrated the defense platform... killing several soldiers too close. Even as she flips in the air, she dispatched a handful of soul gems in the attacker's direction.
The explosions were intercepted by a series of magical shields.
Crouching on the roof where she had landed, Rin looked at her opponent and her eyes narrowed. The goblin, dressed in wolf's fur, the face covered in war paint shone with a disturbing power. She couldn't know, but it was the Great Shaman Grutbug.
The enemy was already starting his attack.
An electric arc from his hand swept the roof and Rin sacrificed one of her most powerful spiritual gems:
"Spiegel aus einem Shalidor!"
A shield of light adorned with a magic rune appeared before the hand of the Magus. There was a violent shock when the lightning struck the protection and Tohsaka moaned supporting her arm with one hand so as not to collapse. Pushed back by Shalidor's powerful magic mirror, the spell bounced and hit whoever threw it.
Grutbug was however hardly shaken being under "spell absorption".
Rin gnashed her teeth... the fight promised to last and goblins now converged on her.
However, a blue and silver figure suddenly jumped over a tall palisade.
All eyes turned to the very beautiful young woman with her hair gathered in a braid wrapped in the back of her skull. The wind swirled furiously around the invisible sword in her right hand and her armor was stained with blood.
Several goblins were between her and the Great Shaman.
Saber twirled, jumped, welding Excalibur into a deadly dance. The pebbles gushed under her leaps as the knight woman slit or made crushing blows around her... the goblins fell, cut down like wheat by the reaper, unable to hold her even for a moment.
Grurtbug turned to the King of Knights and fired a flash of fire that she dodged a slight side leap, without even slowing down her race. She took her momentum on her calling foot and her dress swirled around her like the corolla of a flower dancing in the wind.
Artoria Pendragon fell back four steps behind the Great Shaman her invisible blade lowered to the ground...
Grutbug looked at the head of his stick, which had just fallen to the ground. A moment later, he screamed with rage as a bloody line appeared on his chest, from shoulder to hip...
He collapsed into two parts...
With the death of their Great Shaman, the spell of Aura of Courage that enveloped the goblins collapsed... the humanoids who fought fiercely the moment before threw their weapons to start running. The knights and infantrymen went after them killing everyone they caught.
With her hands crossed on her invisible sword, Artoria Pendragon stood in the midst of the corpses. The wind made snowflakes dance around her. Little by little, winter draped its white shroud over the dead. The swords planted in the ground and the torn standards accentuated the macabre aspect of this scene. Saber's elegant face showed no emotion, but she stared towards the setting sun. The King of Knights raised her left hand before her, looking at the heavy metal gauntlet stained with blood, opening and closing her fist.
Once again...
But this time she was not at the top of a hill...
Once again she had fought and won.
Once again, her heart contained no joy... just an immense weariness.
War is an ineffective way to resolve conflicts. She could talk about it at leisure. Despite all his victories, King Arthur had never brought peace to Britain.
"I know that expression... Wouldn't you be going back to your pretty head with dull and useless thoughts?"
Blinking, Artoria found herself facing Rin. The teenager lifted a finger to place it between her friend's eyes, making her mechanically step back. As often the tone of the Magus was as authoritative as that of a school teacher and Tohsaka spoke as if she had invented the concept of "guilt":
"Asking if we could have done better is probably a quality. But there is no point in the present situation. So give me the pleasure of coming out of your depression and looking around..."
With her hand, Tohsaka showed the survivors of Koeglin's army. Far from feeling sorry for themselves or mourning the dead, they threw themselves into each other's arms to celebrate their victory. The only ones who cried, cried tears of joy.
"We saved these people. Without our arrival, they would have died. So yes, we probably could have done better... but I find it incredible that we were so successful."
A perfectly evil smile passed over Rin's lips...
"Actually, no, that's normal. You're the best knight in history. Shiro is... Shiro" She shrugged as to say that he was out of categories, then pressed a hand between her breasts. "And I am Rin Tohsaka, a Magecraft genius. So, for the three of us, defeating an army is not a problem."
Saber smiled, shaking her head slightly, amused and tolerant of her friend's arrogance. However, despite this, Rin was right. Without their arrival, the fate of the port of Koeglin would not have been much disputed... finally, their arrival and the collapse of the tunnel. They had been lucky, very lucky (2).
Artoria dissipated Excalibur and her armor stained with blood. They disappeared in golden prana particles. Wearing only the gold-clad blue dress she wore on a white petticoat and soft leather boots, the King of Knights took Rin by the shoulders and hug her.
Several soldiers turned to the two girls, softened by the image of Saber putting her cheek against Rin's one... and amused by the young Magus suddenly turned as red as her turtleneck sweater.
- Thank you, Rin!
The Magus was probably very touched by this outpouring of tenderness... However, we were talking about Rin. She got away, crossing her arms and turning her head sideways before posting a pout:
- Oh? " Thank you, Rin!" You suddenly seem to forget that I am manipulative, stingy, and authoritarian. I am honored, Saber!
Of course, the young Tohsaka would not forget so quickly what Artoria had said to the baron of Koeglin to "excuse" her cold, hostile and contemptuous attitude.
The King of Knights was not disturbed; accustomed that she was to the behavior of Rin:
- Yes, but I love you because you care about others, you are honorable and above all... you are our lovely Rin, aren't you, Shiro?
As she turned around to discover the Amber Eyes Blacksmith, Tohsaka seemed to freeze on the spot, a drop of sweat running down her cheek. Shiro had followed the whole conversation... the Magus felt so embarrassed that she would have hid in a mouse hole if she had found one.
As usual, this idiot understood nothing of what she felt and added:
-Yes, we love you, Rin. I have admired you almost as long as my memory goes back. And I admit that discovering your true personality behind the mask of "Miss Perfect" made me a real shock... but in fact, if I admired this Tohsaka, it's the real Tohsaka (the one in front of me) that I love.
And this big idiot Shiro said that with this nice little smile that left no doubt on his sincerity... He believed every word! She was going to die of embarrassment! But at the same time, Rin felt overwhelmed by a wave of heat as her heart beat so hard that he could have come out of her chest. So that was being in love...
- Baka!
Wild with anger, a fist raised above her head, her temple wrinkled with frustration, Tohsaka seemed about to hit Shiro Emiya... But those who knew her could not fail to note that her voice was muffled, her cheeks were the color of the incarnate, and her eyes avoided the red-haired boy.
Shiro scratched his cheek with a bit annoyed not knowing how to react. Nevertheless, his eyes were laughing, and, as he saw it in the eyes of Artoria, his former Servant was struggling not to laugh.
Tohsaka gathered the pieces of her dignity into pieces, casting a bad look at the soldiers who were watching them. Fortunately, the whole conversation had taken place in Japanese...
She turned at once and grabbed Artoria by the hand:
"Well, that's all very well, but we're not going to stand here all night. There are still millions of things to do! Come on, Saber!
Her shoulders twirled in a suspicious manner, the King of knights allowed herself to be pulled by the Magus, which advanced straight ahead, without looking right and left, walking with a brisk step.
Artoria addressed a bright smile to the red-haired boy and reached out her free hand:
"Shiro!"
An expression of serene joy appeared on the face of the Amber Eyes Hero, as he ran to catch up with the woman he loved... no, the women he loved.
Mordane Hawkstone shook his head shared between fun and a bit of irritation. He was married and happy as a couple... yet seeing Shiro Emiya with his two young women made him feel a sudden jealousy. Given the expression of the soldiers of Koeglin and Verandia present around them, his feeling was widely shared.
"Does he at least account for his luck?"
"Absolutely, Baron"
Mordane turned to Merlin. Contrary to his habit, the Wizard of Flowers displayed a dreamy expression. He slowly agreed:
"But before you envy him, learn that Shiro Emiya has gone through hell to deserve the love of my king and young Tohsaka."
A mischievous expression passed over Merlin's face as he bent over to whisper in Mordane's ear:
"Shiro is the mortal with the strangest destiny I have ever seen. In multiple realities, he has faced formidable threats far beyond what a human should face. Each time, he fought... with the help of young women... naturally beautiful girls and never ordinary ones: legendary heroines, powerful magi, royal princesses, demon girls, goddesses... All alternative versions of Shiro Emiya have two things in common: Overcoming extraordinary trials... and being the most envied individual in the universe in question!"
The Baron of Koeglin looked critically at the magician, wondering if this was a new joke. Then he sighed... strangely, this time, the Breton lord believed him. However, he preferred to change the subject. With a gesture, Mordane showed the trio walking away hand-in-hand:
"I'm surprised you didn't take advantage of the situation for one of your jokes."
Merlin had a sad little smile:
"I'd rather stick a rusty nail in my hand than be the one to break this moment of happiness. You know, I don't remember seeing my king so happy... Even as a child, Artoria has never been so fulfilled, Shiro and Rin are the best that's happened to Artoria since... ever, actually."
Mordane understood that Merlin really loved his "king"...
"Why do you always call her "Your Majesty" or "My King"? She is a woman and by her own admission, of low birth."
Merlin had the proud smile of a father for his child:
"One day you too will call her "Your Majesty"."
The baron opened his mouth to answer but changed his mind. On many occasions, he had visited Alcaire and the court of the "King of the Islands", a resounding title for the sovereign of one of the smallest states of High-Rock, smaller than some counties. The bearer of the title was a moron and a complete incompetent who demanded servile behavior from everyone and became angry if he was treated below his rank.
In his first encounter with Artoria Pendragon, Mordane had been unable to speak made mute by admiration for her beauty... but even more for the calm assurance that radiated from her. In the battle, everyone had turned to her to receive orders. Artoria had shown solid knowledge of the art of war, but also of the etiquette of nobles. Although she was a "knight", she had behaved as expected from a king... not a pathetic king like the idiot who sat on the throne of Alcaire... before the orcs razed the city and stuck his head on a spike. The only good thing they've done since the beginning of the Great Invasion.
The Baron of Koeglin nodded slowly:
"On the day she is consecrated... king, I will lay my sword at her feet".
A baron had an obligation only to a king who would lend himself to his feudal duty to protect his feuds. The king of Alcaire had died proving his inability to carry out the duties of his office and this left him free to swear an oath to another monarch... And he knew no one more deserving than Artoria to receive his sword. King Artoria had saved his city and his people.
Rex quodam, Rex que futuram
The King (Arthur) reigned, he will reign.
(Inscription on Arthur's grave, according to La Morte d'Arthur of Mallory)
(1) Japanese archery.
(2) Napoleon said: "Soldiers prefer lucky generals to talented generals. And they are right". He also said: "The best battle plans can fail by bad luck, the worst can succeed by chance". The battle of Koeglin is a perfect illustration of this principle. Artoria, Rin, and Shiro arrived at the time of the tunnel collapse, just in time to counter the main goblin attack. But luck does not exist on Tamriel... Fate is controlled by the Bones of the Earth or Ehlnofey, the spirits of the first mortal race having populated Nirn. The Ehlnofeys are minor entities but they are responsible for all these "coincidences" that are at the heart of The Elders Scrolls series. Thus a prisoner was found in the cell where the secret passage allowing the Emperor to leave the Imperial City was. (Oblivion) or to another unknown prisoner sharing the cart of Ulfric Sombrage (Skyrim). The first became the Hero of Kvatch and closed the doors of Oblivion, the second was none other than the Dragonborn.