Chapter 14: The Gang Misses Fight Club
The pair of legendary warriors stood on an empty, lonely plain across from each other, one of them smiling while the other looked solemn. Achilles then held out his fist as he loudly declared, "I am Achilles, son of Peleus, Rider of Red! Let's have a great duel!"
Siegfried bumped his fist against Achilles' as Balmung dematerialized. "I am Siegfried, son of Siegmund, Saber of Black! May honor come to the victorious and defeated alike!"
Without a word, the Rider blitzed forward, driving his fist into Siegfried's chin, sending his head cracking backwards. The hero of the Nibelungenlied replied by slamming a wild haymaker into Achilles's stomach and sending him sliding back.
The son of Peleus retorted by driving his heel into Siegfried's knee, sending him off balance which Achilles took advantage of to plunge his knee into the Saber's stomach. Siegfried slammed his head into Achilles' and the latter replied by driving a fist into his foe's kidneys and then one into his face.
There was a disparity in the way the two fought, with Achilles flowing through the pankration forms that he'd been taught by Chiron while Siegfried could only brawl, having no real training in hand to hand combat. Still, the duo fought on, despite the seeming mismatch in skills, and the marks on them due to their recent struggles.
As Siegfried staggered back from the one-two combo he took, Achilles closed again and batted aside the Saber's attempt to grapple him before sending a jab into the center of his chest. Siegfried's breath exploded out of his lungs as he took the blow to his weak point, and was unable to react in time as Achilles wove into his guard and sent an uppercut into his chin.
The Saber was forced back and tried to regain his sloppy stance, only for Achilles to blow through it and send a hook into his chest. He tried to counter with a cross, only for his opponent to weave around it and slam a shovel hook into Siegfried's liver.
The son of Peleus pushed his advantage, going into a flurry of blows that slammed into Siegfried's chest, each earning a stuttering cough of blood. The Saber tried to strike back, but was unable to stop Achilles' fist from slamming right through his chest, leaving no air left in his lungs as he tried to inhale.
Siegfried coughed again, but smiled through the pain as his arms fell to his side. He nodded as he slumped against the son of Peleus. "This was indeed a good fight. Thank you, Achilles. My only regret was that I could not match your skill."
"Heh, you weren't bad yourself," Achilles replied, gently pulling his hand out of his foe's chest and giving him a nod as the Noble Phantasm faded, pulling them back into reality.
Trent couldn't help but blink as Siegfried began to fade, confusion crossing his features as he realized just what had happened. Despite the sudden solemn air, the Canuck was tempted to thrust his hands in the air and cheer. He restrained himself enough to lock eyes with Gordes and remark, "It would seem that the tables have turned, Gordes. I'd be happy to accept your surrender."
"Wha- No! Saber, as your Master, I order you–"
The fat magus was interrupted by a squawk of his own making when a feather jabbed into his chest. It then ignited, causing the large man to panic as he tried to put out the flame burning on his chest.
Trent turned back to watch as Siegfried finally faded away entirely, leaving the world on his feet with a smile on his face as he scattered into golden motes of light, and nodded in respect to the fallen warrior.
Achilles then fell back with a chuckle, his arms falling limply out beside him as he hit the grass. He stared up at the sky, and sighed, "So, Chiron… do you think I did good? By Atalante?"
The horse-tailed Archer was at his student's side in a matter of moments, a proud smile on his face. "You did, Achilles. I am sure that Atalante would be proud of what you have done; I know that I am. I am glad that I can call you my student."
"You're spoiling me, saying things like that, Chiron," the Rider replied with a weak laugh, his body and magical energy giving out. As he, too, faded into golden particles, Chiron took one of Achilles' hands in both of his and gripped it firmly. It quickly vanished, but the child of Kronos remained kneeling where his student had passed, a melancholic mix of pride and sorrow on his face.
The Canadian magus settled down into a squat and remarked, "Well, at least those two got the fight and sendoff they deserved. Woulda been a crying shame if this war ended as ingloriously as some of the incidents that I caused."
The unnamed homunculus nodded somberly, then walked over to the still-floundering Gordes and kicked him directly in the dick. The portly magus doubled over, a whine like a deflating balloon escaping his throat.
"That's for treating Sir Siegfried like a disposable tool," he declared with a frown, then walked away from Gordes.
It was at that point that Astolfo trotted over and gave the homunculus a pat on the head, seemingly oblivious to the motes of light that were wafting off of his form. "Don't worry, little guy! I'm sure that Ziggy is real happy with the thought, but if you stand too close then the fat man might roll into you and crush you!"
The homunculus snorted. "Maybe." He then raised an eyebrow at the moon-brained Rider. "...Rider, you're disintegrating."
"Eh? I'm disincorporationing?" the Rider replied, before looking down at himself and jumping up. "Oh no, I'm turning into cheese dust! I'm gonna get trapped on the moon again! Save me; I'll be your best friend!"
"How?" asked the nameless homunculus, genuine concern in his voice. "What do you need me to do?"
Trent couldn't help the giggle that wormed its way out of his throat as he interjected, "Rider, you're running out of mana because your dumb bitch Master died, you'd need to make a contract with someone to keep the supply up."
"Eh? Wait, she's dead? When did that happen? Who killed her? Oh god, who'll go to her funeral? Because I'll be honest, I'd only go if I could scam on cute girls," Astolfo declared, clapping his hands onto his cheeks in panic, now caught up in the fact that his Master had died.
The Canadian nodded sagely, and agreed, "Honestly, I'd be in the same boat, my dude."
The homunculus cleared his throat pointedly and asked, "Okay, but seriously; what can I do to help Rider? How can I form a contract with him?'
"Well, that's the hard thing. You could easily do the summoning chant, and Astolfo could reply in kind to accept the contract, but the issue is that you lack Command Seals, as those stabilize the connection," Trent explained, his hands coming up to point at his own Command Seals.
As the two began to despair, Carmilla appeared from the aether and slapped a square of skin on his cheek. He replied by screeching and scraping it off his cheek. "Carmy you bitch! You got stupid bitch on me, ew ew ew!"
"Call it revenge for filling the back of the car with bird feathers," the Assassin replied calmly, a small smile on her features.
The homunculus then picked up the Command Seals gingerly between two of his fingers, and asked, "So, um, what do I do with these now?"
"Um, well, we need to get those on your hand," Trent hesitated, and then nodded firmly as an idea came to his mind. "Alright, so, put them on the back of your hand face up, and grit your teeth."
As the homunculus did so, Trent pulled out a quartet of feathers and stabbed them into the corners of the skin square, causing him to squeak in pain. Electricity crackled between them, somehow melding the flesh together and grafting it there. Trent then pulled the feathers out, earning a pained gasp, and nodded, "Alright, now just perform the summoning chant and you two are good to go!"
"Yay! And there was a neat lightshow too," the Rider cheered, looking entirely too cheerful despite his disappearing legs.
Trent then took the homunculus through the chant, gently bringing up his now burning hand to the proper position, and making sure he knew the words and the correct order. He then gracefully stepped back when the young looking man said he was ready, staring at Rider.
The nameless homunculus stood across from Astolfo, eyes closed as he raised his hand.
"Let silver and steel be the essence. Let stone and the archduke of contracts be the foundation. Let White be the color I pay tribute to. Let rise a wall against the wind that shall fall."
An ethereal circle of white energy formed around them as the homunculus' circuits ignited, causing him to grit his teeth in pain.
"Let the four cardinal gates close. Let the three-forked road from the crown reaching unto the Kingdom rotate. Let it be declared now; your flesh shall serve under me, and my fate shall be with your sword. Submit to the beckoning of the Holy Grail. Answer, if you would submit to this will and this truth."
The light intensified and shifted, settling around Astolfo's shoulders like a shawl even as it flowed like a river of stars from the homunculus' shoulders.
"An oath shall be sworn here. I shall attain all virtues of all of Heaven; I shall have dominion over all evils of all of Hell."
As his voice rose to a shout, the energy reached its climax as well.
"From the Seventh Heaven, attended to by three great words of power, come forth from the ring of restraint, protector of the holy balance!"
With a sound between a shout and a scream, the light burned bright, then vanished. The formerly black Command Seals on the back of the homunculus' hand blazed white, and he slumped forward, only to be caught in Astolfo's deceptively toned arms.
The Rider laughed as he twirled the homunculus around, and cried, "Lookit me, Master! I've still got legs!" To illustrate the point, he did a small jump and let out a deep belly laugh.
"That's...good...Rider," the new Master wheezed, breathless from both the exhaustion of performing the summoning and because Rider was squeezing him harder than the Servant realized.
Astolfo then, let him down and did a bow as he introduced himself, "So, I'm Astolfo! A proud paladin of Charlemagne! It's good to work with you, Master, especially given that you're not gonna get chopped up by the fat man!"
"It's good...to work with you too," the homunculus gasped, slowly catching his breath. "I don't have a name to give you, though."
The Rider huffed as he put his hands on his hips and puffed his cheeks out as he remarked, "Well, that's no good, Master! Everyone needs a name, and you especially, given that you're my Master now, as I can't just call you Master all the time! We're not in that sort of relationship, at least not yet!"
The homunculus cocked his head, the innuendo lost on him. "Well, what should it be? I don't know anything about names…"
"Hm, well, names are important, and you can't have my name, that'd be weird…" Astolfo put a hand on his chin as he bounced on his toes, occasionally vocalizing the word 'hum.' "Well, what're your friends' names?"
"Friends…?" he muttered, then glanced at Trent. "Well, he's Trent Blackmore, and the other guy's named Johan Lewis...oh, and there's Mister Shishigou, but I don't know if I'd call him a friend, really…"
"Hum, hum, hum," the pink-haired man declared, doing a little jig as he tried to think. "Well, Trunbor is out, Joloops is out, Shake-it-up is out… urgh, I dunno many good names, this is a pain." As he complained, he put his hands on his head and mussed his hair horribly, before his eyes lit up. "That's it! You're Charlie Mann! I'm naming you after my good friend Charlemagne, I'm sure he'd be cool with it too!"
Despite the gravity of the situation, his hair was a complete mess, looking like he'd been outside during a hurricane.
"Charlie…" he said slowly, as though tasting the word. "I...I like it. Charlie it is."
"Sounds good to me, Charlie-boy," Trent remarked as he leaned over to wrap an arm around Carmilla. "Our little boy's growing up and bringing home strange men who are giving him pet-names."
Carmilla's eyebrows rose, the smallest of smiles on her face as she replied, "This is why I can't wait for the alimony to come through." Trent recoiled in pain, acting like she'd just punched him in the gut, earning a chuckle from the Assassin.
Their friendly, if barbed banter was abruptly cut off as two distinct, inhuman noises echoed from the field. The first was familiar to Trent and Charlie, belonging to Hyde, but the other was alien. It was a rasping, deathly sound, as though a rotting corpse had screamed with a thousand blood-choked lungs at once; a cacophonous chorus of damned souls.
Trent then looked to Carmilla and laughed, "Well, well, looks like we might just miss the graveyard bash!"