FATE/LÚNASA FÓMHAR

"August Harvest"

Chapter 21: Lights That Purge Darkness

"Hah!" Heroine X cried out. The moment Lancelot threw the rock he mutated with his powers, X rushed in and carved her sword through it, cleanly bifurcating it and leaving it to explode behind her. She then ran through the altar room as Lancelot grabbed more rubble and hurled them at her in rapid-fire motion. When she found an opening, she skidded low before hopping straight for the mad knight and pointing her blade at his chest.

Darkness swirled around Lancelot's hand, and a sword of his own materialized in his grasp; Arondight, the holy sword constructed by the Lady of the Lake, now steeped with the same darkness as his armor. He snarled and used the weapon to viciously parry hers, knocking her arms so far up that she momentarily lost her balance.

Not good!

Lancelot raised his sword, intent on cutting through her torso. X wouldn't let him though – through a feat of tremendous agility, she leaned backwards and spun her leg around to deliver a roundhouse kick to his head.

"MRRRGH!" Lancelot snarled as he tumbled across the ground. He lost sight of her for just a second, so when he looked up again, he realized that she was gone. He still heard footsteps though, so he glared up and found the Assassin dashing along the walls. She dove down at him like a bullet, then slashed as hard as she could. He raised Arondight to block her, but his feet skidded along the floor so deeply that black marks were left behind.

X bounced off him. As he recovered, he felt a rush of wind pass by him. He quickly glanced back and saw that she was both in front and behind him at the same time. Did she split into two, or was she moving so quickly that it created the illusion of copies? He wasn't sure, but his frustration exploded into rage as the two Heroine Xes slashed and pummeled at him. They finished by carving a golden X shape in the air between them, which cut through Lancelot's armor and caused blood to fly out.

"GRAAA~AAA~AAAHHH!" he screamed so loudly that the room seemed to shake.

The copy of X disappeared, while the original raised Secretcalibur like a baseball bat and shouted, "Saber, HOME RUN!"

The sword flared with golden light until it resembled a futuristic energy weapon, then she swung it in batting fashion to cleave through Lancelot's breastplate. The Berserker went flying across the altar room until he smashed his back against the farthest wall. X wasn't finished though – she wouldn't allow him to take even a moment of rest. Her determination to eliminate any and all Sabers in the universe, even if they weren't actually in the Saber class, was so fervent that her mind blanked everything else out. A second sword formed in her left hand, colored black and red to complement the white and blue one in her right.

"Gaze upon the fellowship of dark and light! Sword of Starlight, obliterate! Eliminate the witness to my secret! EX…"

Before Lancelot knew what was happening, Heroine X frantically slashed, carved, cut, and sliced through the incapacitated Shadow Servant. She finished her strongest attack by cleaving a perfect golden X shape through his entire body.

"CALIBUUU~UUURRR!"

He couldn't even scream anymore. The knight was flayed beyond recognition, and he literally clattered onto the ground as pieces. Soon though, his remnants lost their form and melted into piles of Void Dust. X made the red-and-black sword vanish, sheathed the blue-and-white one, then took out a bowl of ramen noodles from Pocketspace in her jacket and happily slurped them with a pair of chopstick.

"Mmm… Nothing like piping hot noodles after a well-earned victory!"

Way over on the opposite side of the altar chamber, Medusa elegantly flipped and twirled in midair to leap over Gareth's thrusting lance. The Rider hurled her chains and wrapped them around the exposed spear, then landed and attempted to pull the weapon out of her enemy's hands. Gareth's grip was much tighter than she expected, and Medusa struggled to overcome her. Suddenly, she stumbled backwards when the knight decided to change tactics. Instead of resisting, she allowed the chains to pull her toward the stunned woman.

"Ungh!" Medusa yelped as she curved her stomach inward to avoid being skewered. Her belly was sliced, though not deep enough for it to be fatal. She brandished one of her daggers and tried to stab the back of Gareth's neck, but she got out of the way in time. She swung her heavy lance at Medusa's back and slammed her away. With the grace of a cat, she planted her feet against the wall, then leapt off and raised her leg to deliver a roundhouse kick to Gareth's side.

The knight tumbled along the ground, and her heavy armor clattered each time she struck the floor. She got up in a hunched position and fiercely glared at Medusa. An indescribable fury boiled in the silhouetted girl's eyes. Medusa barely reacted though; she was used to humans looking at her like she was some kind of horrible villain. This time though, Gareth's hatred was justified since Medusa was the one who originally killed her.

"Good grief," the Rider bitterly muttered. "The dead really should be graceful enough to remain that way. Having to kill the same person again is such a hassle."

Her taunt riled Gareth, prompting her to charge full speed at the blasé woman. Medusa likewise ran toward her, then thrust her leg forth in a sweeping kick to deflect the oncoming spear. She got down on her hands and launched both feet forward at Gareth's face, then did two more roundhouse kicks before jumping over the knight and diving straight down, smashing her face-first into the ground. To her astonishment though, Gareth snatched her ankle and violently slammed her about like a pillow being used in a pillow fight. Each blow seemed to get stronger and stronger each time, and Medusa could feel bones breaking with each strike.

Once she was satisfied with bashing her opponent senseless, Gareth hurled Medusa at the wall so powerfully that she crashed right into the adjacent room. The Rider gasped for air while trying to see through the smoke. Luckily, she heard Gareth's armor clattering as she made her advance. This gave her enough time to skid out of the way before the heavy lance pierced the ground where she previously was.

Medusa had had enough. In truth, she was just fooling around with Gareth this whole time. The knight had been much too easy for her to kill the first time, so she wanted to savor this rematch as much as she could. Now she realized that after Gareth became a Shadow Servant, her speed and power had been exponentially increased. Medusa wasn't sure how or why, but she certainly didn't want someone as dangerous as this to break loose and slaughter Parvati's citizens.

As Medusa flipped back onto her feet, a peculiar blood-red aura fizzled into existence around her hands. They formed into long, thin lines, then materialized as more chains. These ones had an additional weapon attached to the ends though; sharp, gleaming sickles that had drawn more than enough blood in their time. She firmly snatched the chains in both hands, then rushed past the surprised Gareth and whispered something in her ear:

"That's as far as you go."

Medusa slashed the sickles in a dual arc. They carved through Gareth's torso, chopping her into three distinct pieces. Her arms hit the ground first, followed by the rest of her body as black blood poured out of her wounds. There was no way she could recover like this, and Medusa certainly wasn't going to let her try. With nary a sound nor sign of emotion, she whipped her blade along Gareth's carotid artery, killing her instantly. It didn't take long for the Shadow Servant to be reduced to Void Dust like the rest of them.

The city's main road leading to the palace had now become a hellish battle zone that no ordinary person dared venture into. The streets were deserted of all life, save for four Servants who were duking it out two-on-two. The Shadow Servants who emerged from the castle barged through the Fomorian monsters, treating them as nothing more that obstacles in their pursuit of the Servants who had been previously fighting each other until now. The fiends were unintentionally cleared out of the way, with Roland decapitating a whole row of beasts with one stroke of his sword, while Bradamante's violet glowing shield flared and rained destructive energy upon a crowd.

"Shit! Shadow Servants at a time like this!?" Beowulf snarled.

Ashwatthama became irritated as he murmured, "The French Servants, huh? Hey, Grendel Slayer! You better keep on your toes if you want to keep your head attached to your neck! They might be reduced to mere shadows, but they're still two of Charlemagne's Twelve Paladins!"

"You don't say. It's been a while since I've seen anyone from the Francia Faction." †

Roland landed several feet before Beowulf and turned his crimson eyes toward the Scandinavian hero. He grinned and muttered, "Well, well. Looks like my next opponent has been decided for me. Hey, Big Red! Think you can deal with the other one for me!?"

"Yeah, yeah, I hear you," the disgruntled Archer retorted and faced Bradamante.

Beowulf returned his glare to Roland, then brandished his dual blades Hrunting and Naegling. After taking a deep breath, he snapped, "Okay then… Time to get violent!"

Both warriors charged at each other and flailed their blades about in a mind-numbing dance of violence. Neither of them really utilized a specific style of combat; they just let their bodies move freely in an incredible display of swordsmanship that no one in Uma had ever seen before. The chaos lasted for a solid five minutes, yet neither fighter showed any sign of yielding to the other. Soon, Durandal loudly clanged as it smashed against Hrunting, and Roland's foot twisted abnormally that caused him to stagger for a second. The crazed look in Beowulf's eyes literally screamed, "I've got you," as he swung Naegling at the Paladin's shoulder.

Roland leapt over the swing and pounded his feet against Beowulf's collarbone, making him tumble back. He clumsily twirled, but managed to regain his balance before slashing at Roland's head. He saw the blade coming, as if in slow motion, and he inched his cranium just beneath. Minute wisps of hair were cut off his bangs. Roland knew he needed to make some distance, so he flipped away and scurried up the nearest wall. Durandal glinted brightly, and Beowulf was certain that he intended to use some kind of Noble Phantasm.

"Hah! Not a chance!" he laughed and pursued parkour-style by using window ledges, balconies and clotheslines to reach his enemy's level. Beowulf figured that by keeping the fight as high off the ground as possible, he could minimize the risk of collateral damage and needless casualties.

When he landed on the highest line though, he gasped as his footing was suddenly lost. Roland had cut the rope the moment Beowulf landed, which was what he had actually been hoping for. At the same time, several of the more nimble Fomorian monsters hopped their way up to try and kill Beowulf while he was distracted. He wouldn't let them have their way - he carved Naegling through one fiend's torso and jammed Hrunting in another's head shortly before they all crashed back to the ground. The flying dust suddenly parted when one of the bodies was viciously thrown at Roland. He bifurcated it with ease.

To Roland's surprise however, Beowulf emerged from behind the flying corpse and circled around him. He had used it as a momentary hiding spot to blindside the Paladin. Roland raised Durandal in time to block an incoming swipe from Hrunting that would have decapitated him otherwise. The force that their clash generated couldn't be so easily resisted however, and Roland was sent smashing clean through the brick road. Chalky smoke billowed around Beowulf as he descended upon the crash site.

Just then, a strange wind rushed past his face. Blood burst out of a flesh wound. If he hadn't jerked his head aside, Durandal would have cut through his cranium. As Roland leapt out of the smoke to meet his foe in midair once again, he used this opportunity to pierce his sword through Beowulf's arm, coming dangerously close to amputating him. The Berserker snarled, realizing that the nerves in that arm were disabled, and he was forced to drop Naegling. He swung Hrunting in an arc and smashed Roland off of him, freeing his bloody arm from the blade.

The two men skidded their feet along the walls, then leapt higher into the air to continue their match. He landed on a terrace and whirled around to parry Roland's next strike, then leaned back and smashed his bare foot directly into the Paladin's face. Roland sailed backwards, and Beowulf jumped down after him. Although his injured arm hurt like hell, he persisted through the pain and tightly snatched Roland's throat. It was difficult for the knight to counter when his windpipe was being squeezed like mere fruit.

Then, Beowulf's eyes flared with glee, and his smiled darkly. Roland noticed that the glint in his opponent's eye wasn't some indication of his burning soul or whatever – a source of light really had reflected off of it. He looked back, then saw it…

Naegling had punctured the ground in an upright position. Both Servants were falling directly on top of it. Roland realized what was going to happen to him. He turned his wide, bloodshot eyes at the smugly grinning Beowulf, who only said one last thing to him:

"Give my regards to Charlemagne, will ya?"

The two warriors smashed directly upon Naegling. Smoke and dust exploded around them. Moments later, a lone figure leapt out of the blinding storm. It was Beowulf – he managed to avoid being skewered by his own blade, though only by mere millimeters. The same couldn't be said for Roland. His arms and legs were splayed on the ground, and Naegling was pierced clean through his heart and vital organs. He remained motionless as his form melted into a harmless pile of black ashes. Beowulf snatched the sword's hilt, pulled it out of the ground, then proudly shouldered it.

"Phew. That was a good match."

During Beowulf and Roland's fight, Ashwatthama stood in his combat pose to face off against Bradamante. Known as the Knight of the White Plume, she was a lovely heroine who endured a great number of trials and never once faltered. Even if she had to fight King Rodomonte of Algiers, escape from the witch Alcina, or turning down a Greek prince's hand in marriage, her courage remained steadfast as she pursued her true love Ruggiero. That made it all the more difficult for Ashwatthama to look at Bradamante as a pure black Shadow Servant, with her radiant shield steeped in the darkness it once used to absorb before Merlin purified it. Whatever had corrupted her, he knew it had to be powerful enough to undo the famous magician's work.

"Bradamante…" he frowned. "To think that a shining bright Paladin like yourself would be blackened this badly… But I won't hold back, even for you. I won't apologize for what's about to happen to you. Just know that, speaking as a fellow hero, I at least want to put you out of your misery."

"…"

"Now do your worst! I, Ashwatthama, son of Dronacharya, will be your opponent!"

With that declaration, he gripped his chakram tightly and charged at Bradamante, who likewise rushed toward him with both spear and shield in hand. He whirled on his heel and swung his weapon in a full circle, so she raised her shield to block it before stabbing her spear at his chest. He somehow managed to step aside, and he grabbed her arm so he could throw her away. She tumbled in midair and landed gracefully back on her feet, then dashed back and readied her right leg to perform a kick that could stab through flesh. He likewise built up power in his leg and countered with an identical-looking kick. Their thrusting feet impacted against each other no differently than hands clapping together, and a booming shockwave blasted in a radius all around them.

Ashwatthama leapt back, totally surprised by how much power Bradamante possessed despite her petite stature, especially when compared to his toned bulk. He became enraged, and fire seared around his wrists as he charged in to swing his chakram around like a battering ram. The smug look in her eyes suggested she was silently taunting him. She leapt over the attack, used his head as a platform to jump higher, then contorted her body so she could dive back down while pointing her spear at his back.

"GAH!" the Indian hero yelped. He barely managed to twist his body aside, but the explosion of darkness and wind that followed sent him tumbling along the ground for about 100 meters. As he rolled about, he realized that Bradamante was chasing after him. She pointed her spear at his face, so he had to continue rolling to avoid being skewered multiple times. When he found a chance, he got on his hands and whipped his foot at her face, knocking the surprised Paladin off her feet and upside-down in midair. She managed to recover and flip upright before landing, which allowed him to get back up as well.

Ashwatthama clenched his teeth and thought, Tch! She might be a hottie, but she ain't taking any prisoners!

Bradamante's shield was consumed by an all-encompassing darkness that practically blackened the area around both fighters. The spiky shield then spun like a compass dial as she barged at him. The sharpened points brutally dug through his skin, forcing him to reel in agony as she jumped back and energized her spear with the same dark forces. She then launched the destructive blackness at the stunned man, completely engulfing him in a wave of darkness that would have obliterated an ordinary man.

Bradamante landed and observed her handiwork. When the darkness cleared, the immediate area around Ashwatthama was charred and destroyed. However, she almost failed to notice that a figure garbed in black armor stood there in a hunched pose. He remained perfectly still for a moment. Then, flames tickled around his wrists and chakram. Even the top of his head flared with a perpetual fire. Small amounts of blood trickled through the gaps in his armor, making him look all the more horrifying.

"You've done it now, sister," Ashwatthama growled darkly. She couldn't see his face beneath the helmet, but he now sported a wide, mirthful grin. The fire blazing on his head intensified, and his eyes likewise glowed bright gold as he seethed, "You've gone and made me MAD."

Meanwhile, Parvati ran through the tunnels leading back to Uma. Her breath sounded frantic, and her heart raced in panic as she couldn't stop thinking about Ashwatthama, Medusa, and all of her citizens. She dared not think of the possibility that she would be returning to witness the aftermath of a senseless massacre. As much as she tried to push those thoughts out of her mind, they kept coming back and haunting her.

Medusa… Ashwatthama… Please hang in there…

The dread building up inside her was so immense that she needed to stop and take a moment to breathe deeply. Since she was a leader, she needed to keep her composure and see what she could do to help her people. The trouble was, what if her Servants were killed during the siege? Could she really take care of a whole country by herself? She had come this far precisely because she had help from such famous and powerful Servants.

What do I do?

"Lady Parvati!" she heard a child's voice call out, which thankfully disrupted her bleak thoughts. She stopped and found both Connla and Lucius running toward her.

"It's you two," she said. "Are you both coming with me?"

Connla exclaimed, "Of course! I want to make sure Sir Beowulf and Miss X are okay!"

Lucius replied, "Although my concern for those Servants is not as prevalent, it would be foolish of me to miss this opportunity to make the people of Uma be in my debt."

Parvati nodded. Her anxiety seemed to settle once she knew she would have backup in case the worst case scenario happened. She replied, "Wonderful. I will take all the help I can get. Let us get going then."

The trio continued along the winding tunnels through Aspidochelone's innards. As they ventured forth though, the goddess couldn't help but wonder, "By the way, Connla, there is something I wanted to ask of you."

"Hm? What is it?"

"You seem to possess a degree of Divinity, yet you are not of divine nature yourself. In fact, I noticed it the first time you and I met when you were with your friends. I had hoped to ask you about it then, but we unfortunately never got the chance."

"Me? With Divinity? That can't be right. I may be the Child of Cuchulainn, but I didn't inherit any of his powers as a demigod," Connla said, but then became wistful as she murmured, "Although…"

"Although?"

"Something strange has been happening to me while stuck inside this closed-off world. My Master originally summoned me as a Lancer, but for some reason my Spirit Origin was changed to make me a Saber. Apparently it happened right as Jack, Nursery and I were swallowed by Aspidochelone, but I don't remember any of it."

"I see. So your class change and boost in Divinity must have been brought on by an outside influence. Do you have any idea who could be responsible?"

"I can't be sure, but I might have some idea…"

Connla told Parvati about the many strange things and abilities she demonstrated throughout this adventure. The goddess took particular note of how she could summon Lugh's Halo, and she chuckled lightly.

"What is it?" Connla asked.

"My, my. You act so baffled, but I think you already know the answer, don't you?"

"…"

Lucius raised an eyebrow in surprise and muttered, "Are you suggesting that it is Lugh himself who influenced his granddaughter's Spirit Origin?"

"That should be obvious enough by now," Parvati smiled. "I don't know the specifics, but I can understand how he would want to bless her with his power to protect her from Aspidochelone. He may have been unforgiving to his enemies, but there's no doubt that he loved his family with all his heart. Even the grandchild he never got to meet is not exempt from this."

"Hm… All right, I'll accept that explanation. But then the question becomes, why now? Is there some reason that Lugh needed Connla to take his powers? Why couldn't he come here and deal with this himself?"

The goddess became serious. "You said that our common enemy is a Celtic god, no? However, the trouble is that faith in the Celtic gods has greatly waned ever since the era of the Holy Man from Christian faith, where pagan beliefs were swept away in favor of worshipping a common god. Most records that remain in this day and age are of folklore and historic documents, which means that it would be most difficult for Celtic gods to be summoned as Servants. Looking at me as an example though, there is a way around this."

Connla became surprised as she murmured, "Pseudo-Servants."

"Exactly. In essence, Lugh has made you his Pseudo-Servant. Your personality is still the dominant one, but the powers you are using actually belong to him. That is why your class changed from Lancer to Saber – it was to better accommodate Lugh and his wide array of abilities."

"Is that so…?"

Lucius then exclaimed, "Now hold on a second! You say that Celtic gods are not as powerful now as they were back then, but how was Lugh strong enough to change Connla's Spirit Origin!? That should be normally impossible, right!?"

The child Servant closed her eyes, contemplating on the Roman emperor's question. An idea soon crossed her mind, and she opened her eyes before blurting out, "Lughnasadh."

"Huh?"

"It's the Lughnasadh sabbat right now. That's what Lugh's Halo represents – the eight solar solstice events celebrated by modern Pagans. The sixth one is Lughnasadh, which takes place on August 1, and we're only hours away from it being that date. That must be when Grandfather's influence is at its peak, similarly to how the god Samhain receives a boost in faith during the Halloween period. Thus, you could say that Grandfather is a god who represents summer, and is still celebrated for the harvest he brings."

"So we were most fortuitous that the time of the year is what it is right now."

"Exactly. To sum it up, when Grandfather's power reached its apex, he transferred it to me and made me a Pseudo-Servant. Since it's established that there is a Celtic god causing all sorts of trouble, he must have wanted me to confront them on his behalf, and had Aspidochelone swallow me on purpose so I could meet this god lurking inside."

Lucius' lips suddenly curled into a smile, and he heartily laughed, "Fwa hah hah hah! Oh, this is just rich! To think that the god I was named after was in my service all along! What a joyous moment this has been! Even if I should fail to achieve my lifetime goals, I can die with satisfaction knowing that I had my namesake god in my entourage!"

Connla grew skeptical as she muttered, "I don't know about that… I don't feel particularly different than usual, and I still don't have a full grasp of my new abilities. In fact, I'm kind of worried that I'm not strong enough to face the enemy god on equal terms."

Parvati said, "I see what you mean. Our opponent probably had to utilize a Pseudo-Servant of their own, but they've had significantly more time to adjust to their new body. You, on the other hand, were just recently transformed and are thus a novice in comparison."

"Yes, I'm afraid so. I wonder if I'll be able to live up to Grandfather's expectations like this…"

"Fear not!" Lucius exclaimed. "With me and my rapidly expanding Lugh Faction, the enemy will soon be forced to admit defeat! None of us wish to continue partaking in this farce that this god has sustained for untold ages. The combined frustration of so many people and Servants will bring this charade to a swift end! Rest assured that you are not fighting this war alone! If anything, you are actually the banner bringing these nations together to rise up against a common evil!"

"Lord Lucius…" Connla widened her eyes, not expecting the self-centered Roman to say such encouraging words.

He blushed profusely, then scratched his chin and muttered, "Well, it will all work out anyway. So long as you continue being my retainer, nothing shall go amiss."

"All right. Let's just keep going as we are. We're almost to Uma anyway, so we should be ready for combat."

As the three Servants brandished their weapons and exited the tunnel leading to the besieged city, Connla took a deep breath and steeled herself for what was to come.

Grandfather… I can't do this by myself… So please keep watching over me to the end.

"HEEE~EEEYAAA~AAA~AAAH!"

Ashwatthama unleashed his mightiest battle roar before barging towards Bradamante. He hurled the chakram at her, but she increased the size of her shield and blocked it. While she was distracted though, he got right in front of her and smashed his foot against her abdomen. A distinct pow sound resounded around them, and she lost the air in her lungs for a second. Despite this, she remained resolute and grabbed his arm, then twisted it in an unnatural position to break the limb. He howled in pain and shoved her off with a mighty tackle.

"Fine then! If that's what you want, then I'll kill you in one shot!" he shouted, then dropped the chakram on the ground and allowed it to spin in place. The intense friction caused flames to surround the scalding-hot weapon. Since he couldn't use his hands to wield it in this state, he instead pressed his foot against it while raging, "As a warrior who brings death, I'll destroy you with my indestructible blade!"

Ashwatthama shoved the fiery wheel at Bradamante, and it slammed into her while still violently rotating, overwhelming her with untold amounts of heat and fire. He leapt over the chakram and readied his fist, then shouted, "Sudarshan Chakra Yamaraj!"

He punched the weapon with brute force. All of the heat and chaos that built up inside the chakram instantly exploded into a blazing wave of merciless destruction around the two Servants. It took well over a minute for the conflagration to settle, but he didn't seem particularly fazed to be standing in the epicenter of such searing-hot carnage. Sizzling embers danced around him as he glared at where Bradamante laid on the ground.

Smoke curled off of the young woman's body. She struggled to get back on her feet, but he could tell that she was seriously winded from enduring a Noble Phantasm. A dark and ominous aura surrounded her, and her glowing red eyes flared with fury as she stood in a bold stance with her arms crossed. The darkness swirled around her like a tornado, then she thrust it at a very surprised Ashwatthama.

"GUH!?" he gasped. Not only was his body being brutally shredded, but an indescribable fear also overcame his senses. Was it his own fear, or was it some kind of twisted byproduct of the darkness assailing him? Bradamante's shield increased in size, and she raised it in front so it could function as a high-speed battering ram. She then charged at her stunned foe, hoping to obliterate him with the raw power of evil and darkness.

But then, she inexplicably glanced over to her side, and her eyes widened in uncharacteristic horror.

A second afterwards, some kind of blazing projectile rocketed through her forehead and decapitated her with sheer force alone. The rest of her body went flying sideways before it too was consumed in an explosion of fire and debris. The darkness that engulfed Ashwatthama quickly subsided. He barked in both delight and shock, "Holy shit, that was gnarly!"

He saw movement from his side and glared over to see if he was being attacked again. However, he found Connla standing there with a fired slingshot in one of her hands. She had energized a Runestone with an Ansuz Rune, strengthening it as much as she could before launching it at Bradamante as an incendiary shot, which was no different in power than a torpedo head in modern terms.

"It's you!" he exclaimed, recognizing the child Servant from earlier. He dematerialized his helmet so she could see his face.

"Are you all right?" she asked.

"Huh? Uh, yeah, I'm fine…"

"That was a little too close for comfort though. If you had moved the wrong way, I could have killed you as well. Maybe I should save those sorts of stunts for if I'm ever changed to an Archer."

"Hey, don't sound so casual about such a thing!"

"I'm sorry. I just thought it'd be cool to try emulating Grandfather when he shot through Balor's eye and decimated the army behind him."

"Ugh… You've got a dark imagination, you know that, kid?"

"I said I was sorry! What else do you want me to say!?"

"Tch. Fine, forget about it. How's Beowulf holding up against Roland?"

Although the Paladin was indeed dead at this point, Beowulf still had to contend with Fomorians flooding out of the palace. He was already quite exhausted from fighting the Shadow Servant, yet he didn't want to retreat and allow these beasts to go after the defenseless citizenry.

"Shit," he grumbled to himself. "What the hell have I gotten myself into?"

"MRAAAGH!" a hulking brute shouted and lumbered toward the Berserker. Several of its smaller companions swarmed around him so he wouldn't be able to escape. Just then, a familiar white light rushed through the air and disintegrated the larger monster, followed by a shower of flower petals that confused the smaller ones. While they were distracted, Beowulf cut them all down with one wide stroke of his sword. He then glared over at where the destructive beam came from and found a certain red-haired Roman arrogantly standing there, along with a purple-haired maiden in blue clothes wielding a two-pronged spear.

"Looks like I was a little late for the party," Lucius smirked.

"Damn straight you were!" Beowulf snapped. "Do you have any idea what the hell's happening right now?"

"I can hazard a guess. After all, this is identical to the crisis we had to resolve in Zhou."

"Identical? You mean…?"

"Indeed," Parvati replied with a grim frown. "That faction is no more. I fear it will not be long before I will have to say the same for Uma."

Beowulf's eyes widened as he gasped, "Holy shit… Just like that, everything's gone down the crapper…"

"Yes. Our objective is not to save the city. It is to evacuate the citizens and get them to the Lugh Faction's safe haven. Wu Zetian and her people are already on their way there as we speak."

"Fine by me. Heroine X and Medusa are inside the palace, but I don't think we'll be able to retrieve them like this. We'll have to give up on them and focus on the townsfolk."

"If only I could get inside somehow and eliminate the core, this would be so much easier…"

As they spoke, more and more Fomorians kept sauntering toward them like an endless plague. Just then, a fiery explosion swept some of them clean off the road and hurled their carcasses either through buildings or into alleyways. While the area was secure for those brief seconds, the trio found Ashwatthama and Connla running toward them. The former slammed his chakram onto a fiend's head, then growled, "Son of a bitch! No matter how many of these damn things we cut down, they just keep getting replaced!"

"The stone statue is inside the palace, but if it's being guarded like this, we'll never be able to get in there and be rid of the core!" Parvati shouted.

Lucius sliced an oncoming monster to death and snarled, "That's just great! Things keep getting worse and worse by the second! Forget evacuating anyone – it'd be enough just for us to stay alive!"

"I'm not giving up! If I can break through, destroy the core, and rescue Lady Medusa and Miss X, things might turn around for us!" Connla exclaimed, then tried to run toward the castle.

Beowulf grabbed her arm and screamed, "Are you out of your mind, kid!? You can't possibly fight such a horde on your own!"

"I have to do something though! If I use Lugh's Halo over and over again to clear a path through, then-!"

"You'll exhaust yourself to death if you do that! You're coming with me, no ifs, ands or buts!"

"But…"

As the Servants despaired over what to do next, that was when a most unexpected thing happened. The lake surrounding Uma seemed to oddly undulate until a dome-shaped 'thing' burst out of the water. What they saw was… quite difficult to put into mere words. To put it simply, it was a majestic theater, complete with columns upon columns of golden pipe organs surrounding a silver dome structure. There in the center was a stone effigy depicting a Valkyrie-like woman with wings brandishing a broadsword, who wore bikini armor that covered very little of her body.

"Fu fu fu! What is this!? A beauty of Rome!? Of course, it is I!"

The floor opened up, and a platform rose to reveal a beautiful young woman with long blonde hair that had some braids wrapped around the back of her head – obviously she was the same woman whom the stone statue was depicting. She wore a see-through white shirt and a red-and-white striped criss-cross halterneck swimsuit that showed as much skin as legally possible. Her vibrant green eyes shone with excitement as she gallantly introduced herself:

"The one and only flower of the stage; Nero Claudius!"

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

† - Latin for "realm of the Franks", the name of France during Charlemagne's time.