Day 2: False Caster — Unnecessary Things
A slender female figure moved silently through the night, her cape fluttering behind her as she jumped from rooftop to rooftop. It was definitely not how the young Caster had pictured her war strategy going. Specifically, she'd expected to have a Master who would do all the tactical planning for her. He'd be laying out the plans, and she'd be hard at work setting up a magical workshop — a nice hidey-hole, easy to protect with bounded fields, where she could produce some nice magical items for her Master. From the information about the Holy Grail War that had been dropped into her head when she'd been summoned, it appeared that the class she'd been summoned as — Caster — was very weak in the initial stages of the War. Servants of Caster class seemed to be intended to rely primarily on stealth and defense until they could build up enough magical support to allow them to surpass their enemies in strength in the later stages of the War. That wasn't anything like her usual fighting style: cower and hide for half the war? Absurd! She primarily specialized in offensive magic and was prepared to start slinging spells of mass destruction from the word go. Still, she'd been planning to consult her Master about how best her skills might be utilized before making any reckless moves. He was presumably a powerful and intelligent magus with detailed knowledge of the Holy Grail War; if there really was a good reason she should try to play defense for the first half of the ritual, then he'd be able to explain it to her.
Of course, there was one thing that she had completely not been counting on, and that was the existence of a second Servant of the Caster class who had already made a contract with her summoner. The other Caster looked just as surprised to see her; apparently it was quite abnormal for one Master to summon two Servants. Still, she hadn't seen it as a serious obstacle: if anything, it could be a major advantage for Team Caster. Two Servants fighting towards a common goal would easily eliminate any opposition. It quickly became apparent, however, that the other Caster was a total psycho bitch. The purple-hooded hag straight-out murdered her own Master, and then had started launching magic blasts at her! She'd barely managed to speak the incantation for the spell that enveloped her in a protective bubble of wind before getting blown halfway across the city by that madwoman.
That could very well have been the end of her, as Casters were not able to maintain their form for long without a steady supply of prana: either from a Master or from constantly feeding on human souls. The one who summoned her was dead; and, despite her occasional forays into some of the darker areas of black magic, she had never dabbled in soul-eating. Under such circumstances, most Servants would simply fade away. However, she had a large advantage that the purple Caster didn't know about: her Noble Phantasm.
It took the form of four magic gems: a white one set into a talisman below her throat, a blue one set into a talisman on her right wrist, a black one set into a talisman on her left wrist, and a red one set into a talisman on her waist. Used in conjunction, they were a Support type Noble Phantasm capable of providing her with unlimited prana. It didn't mean she could draw on infinite power all at once: if she tried using them to generate too much prana at one time, her Servant body would probably explode into gobs of flaming ectoplasm. But as for allowing her to exist indefinitely without any support from a Master, her Noble Phantasm had that covered.
Of course, prana was only one form of support that Masters gave their Servants, and the caped Caster found herself in need of support of an entirely different sort: strategic and tactical. Despite what some of the over-exaggerated epithets ascribed to her like "Black Witch"or "Queen of Destruction" might lead one to think, she'd never actually fought in a war before. Her specialty, such as it was, had actually been closer to... well, theft, if one must put it vulgarly. And as it so happened, that was what she was currently engaged in.
Sure, when she ultimately obtained the Grail she would be able to wish for infinite wealth and power; but in the short term, there wasn't a lot she could do to work towards winning it at the moment. It would probably be best to lay low for a bit, let the field of enemies thin itself out some. Then, once a suitable Master lost his Servant and decided to seek a contract with another, she'd drop in and make a pact so they could compete as a team. But in the meantime, there was no reason not to keep in practice. Plus, there was always the chance she might steal some powerful magical artifact that could prove useful in the War: any advantage might help.
Magic seemed to be much scarcer in this world she'd been summoned to than it was in her own, but that didn't mean there wasn't still treasure to be found. If anything, it made locating things of value easier: rather than a general haze of magic residue blanketing the city, it was concentrated in just a few spots: the houses of those magus lineage. Such buildings were inevitably defended by bounded fields, but such minor magecraft meant nothing to a beautiful and talented sorcery genius such as herself. She didn't even have to disable the spells; she could slip in and out without triggering them, leaving no trace of presence. Really, the biggest risk was the possibility of being ambushed by another Servant: those involved deeply enough in magecraft to have magic items lying around were potential Masters, and she might not be able to detect a Servant in spiritual form until it was too late. But then, the risk was part of the fun.
In the present moment, luck seemed to be on her side. She'd been casing a mansion, trying to decide whether or not it was safe to break in, when the front door had burst open and some brash blue-haired kid had run out with his Servant in tow. Her first thought was that she'd been spotted, but it quickly became apparent that the kid had no idea he was there; rather, from what she could overhear of the orders he gave his Servant, he was heading out to pick a fight with a different Master. It seemed he'd learned that the Einzbern Master, whoever that was, had been sighted leaving her fortified defensive position and entering the city; an apparently unexpected event, and one that he was eager to take advantage of.
She waited a bit after he rushed off, to make sure that his Servant didn't sense her — the Servant seemed to be of the Rider class, which wasn't as good at sensing presences as Caster, and the blindfold she wore couldn't help matters; but Servants as a whole had much keener senses than humans, and there was no sense tempting fate by getting careless — then made her way through the bounded field and sidled up against the door. A quick, whispered incantation undid the lock, and then she was inside.
It didn't take any time at all to locate the magic item that had attracted her attention: while it had been hidden in a cleverly concealed safe, its emanations were so strong that it shone like a lit torch in a dark room to her senses. Another softly spoken spell unlocked the safe, though she didn't dare open it immediately: there was likely to be a layer of alarm spells on the safe itself. Disarming these actually took a bit more time than she'd expected; not only were they quite finicky, set to go off on a hair trigger, but the overwhelming aura coming from the safe's contents made it difficult for her to make out the more subtle defensive spells. It nearly reached the point where she was prepared to just rip the safe itself out of the wall and start running, but fortunately she had only just begun contemplating the idea when she felt the protective spells finally unravel beneath her touch. She eagerly opened the safe, casting her eyes on the treasure within.
It was even better than she had imagined. A sword of dazzling beauty, apparently crafted entirely of shimmering crystal, thrumming with potent magical energy. She ran her hands over it, trying to decipher the function of the powerful enchantment. She quickly became aware that the sword bore the unmistakable taint of black magic. It didn't seem to be part of the sword's original manufacture, but a corruption that had been introduced by another in order to twist the sword's original function to his own dark ends. Not that she minded much, as she was quite comfortable working with black magic; it was the area she most excelled in, as a matter of fact. Power was power, regardless of its origins. Just because a bunch of stuffy old men declared something "forbidden" or "dangerous" or "pure evil" didn't mean she was going to be a good girl and just leave it alone. Okay, so maybe there was a bit of truth to that "Black Witch" title after all, but she firmly believed that what mattered was not the nature of the power itself but how that power was used. Some of her most legendary victories had only been achieved because she'd dared to use types of magic that more proper, respectable magi wouldn't touch with a ten foot pole. And sure, her homeland now had a couple of craters which no animals would ever approach and within which no plants would ever grow; but looking at things rationally, that was really a small price to pay for saving the whole damn world.
In any case, it was exactly the kind of thing she was looking for: a powerful magic artifact that could help make up for the deficiency of not having a Master and tilt the odds of the Grail War back in her favor. She actually wasn't half bad with a sword; nowhere near skilled enough to qualify for the Saber class, but she could hold her own in a fight if need be. And if she didn't end up needing it... well, it was still valuable. No such thing as too much treasure. She carefully inserted the sword into one of the numerous pouches attached to the inside of her cape, where it would be easy to carry and safely out of sight. Once she retreated to a safe place and had more time to study it, she'd be able to craft a spell to hide its magical emanations — otherwise, those with sharp magical senses might be able to use it as a beacon to track her location.
As she finished stowing the sword, a sound caught the young, caped Caster's attention. A soft, slimy sound, coming from within the house's old wooden walls. A shiver ran up her spine, and she couldn't help but shudder. She absolutely loathed slimy creatures — slugs, worms, and all the verminous ilk. Now that she was on edge, she got the strange sensation that she was being watched. It felt like she was the focus of thousands of unseen eyes, peering out at her through gaps in the old floorboards and cracks in the rotted walls.
She shook herself. It was just her imagination running wild, she told herself; nothing to be concerned with. Still, the thrill of success had worn off, and now all she felt was the urge to get out of this place. She quickly departed, the itchy sensation of being watched fading as she escaped in the cool night air. Maybe she was just being paranoid, but she felt glad to be out of that place.
As she slipped furtively into the night, she noticed the blue-haired boy she'd seen earlier running back in the direction of his house. From the paleness of his face, the panicked speed of his run, and the fact that his Servant wasn't by his side, she could only conclude that the Einzbern Master had given him a solid smackdown. She felt a perverse pleasure at the thought; it'd serve him right for having such a creepy house. But she didn't linger to watch his reaction to discovering her theft, instead stealing away into the shadows like a thief in the night.
===Interlude: Shinji Matou===
Shinji Matou was filled with trepidation as he descended into the basement. He hated having to deliver bad news to grandfather; Zouken would blame him for whatever went wrong, whether it was actually Shinji's fault or not. Nevertheless, Shinji had no choice but to tell Zouken: if he didn't, grandfather would know, and scold Shinji even more severely for his cowardice. Somehow, grandfather always knew.
The bad news he had to deliver was twofold. First, there was the failed attack on the Einzbern puppet. The stupid doll leaving its castle and prancing into the city had seemed the perfect opportunity to eliminate one of the other Great Families from the War; how was he supposed to know that the wretched thing had a walking mountain for a Servant!? As for his own Servant, her performance had been nothing short of pathetic. Rider's chains had bounced off the Berserker's chest like they were cheap plastic toys; then it hadn't been fast enough in dodging and was half-killed by a single blow. He shouldn't have expected anything else from any dumb bitch that would obey a summons from his slut sister, but he just knew that Zouken would somehow place the blame on him. And that Einzbern kid, she hadn't even taken him seriously! When he'd been forced to retreat because of the injuries Rider sustained, she'd ordered Berserker not to bother chasing him down, because he wasn't important! He, Shinji Matou, had been dismissed as unimportant! Made no mistake: he'd make her suffer excruciatingly for this slight. After getting rid of that monster protecting her, he'd personally drag her down into the worm pit to be eaten alive. Or, even better — rather than the feeding her to the parasitic worms that would steal her prana for use by grandfather or Rider, he would introduce her to the same magecraft-enhancing Crest Worms that infested Sakura's body. And once the worms had driven her mad with lust, he'd see what she thought of him then! He'd force her to repay him again and again for having slighted him, and she'd beg him to do it! The Crest Worms truly were grandfather's finest creation.
The second bad news was worse. When he'd returned to the house after the battle, he'd found the front door unlocked. Someone had taken advantage of his and Rider's absence to break in. When Shinji had gone to the safe, he'd found his worst fears confirmed: the most valuable item in the house had been stolen. One lost battle was easily forgiven, as Shinji still had his Servant: he simply had to redeem himself by winning the next one. But the lost item was irreplaceable. And Zouken would, undoubtably, somehow find a way to blame Shinji for allowing it to be stolen.
Upon arriving in the basement, Shinji didn't see grandfather around anywhere. That could only mean that he was rejuvenating himself in the pit. Shinji stepped as close to the edge as he dared — he did not feel a visceral revulsion towards the Crest Worms, as most people did, but he did have a strong respect for their power and therefore danger — and called out for his grandfather.
The worms in the pit reacted to his voice, quickly rising from dormancy and beginning to swarm. A large mass of them converged on the still-struggling form of one of the wretched victims serving as a food supply, source of prana, and incubator for their eggs. The writhing worms plunged eagerly into the victim's ravaged body, burrowing deep into his or her muscles and organs. The person's emaciated figure seemed to return to a grotesque parody of normalcy as more and more worms squirmed their way inside of it, taking the place of the tissues they had eaten. Then the seizures set in, and Shinji knew the worms had reached the brain. Though the victim's consciousness had previously been left intact — necessary, to ensure the body's continued production of prana for the worms — there was no longer any need for this vessel to have a mind. The worms gorged themselves on brain matter, packing the inside of the skull with their own bodies and arranging themselves into a functional facsimile of Zouken's brain. Whoever the victim had once been, they were now effectively dead, and their body under the control of Zouken Matou. Watching the process served as a stark reminder to Shinji that the physical body he addressed as "grandfather" was not actually Zouken himself. Only one of Zouken's Crest Worms housed his actual soul, and it would not be one of the ones placed into such an obvious target as the body he used: it was no doubt hidden somewhere secret, somewhere safe, exerting control over the other worms from a distance.
Next came the physical transformation of the body, the part of the process that fascinated Shinji most. The body's flesh flowed like molten wax as the worms remade it to match Zouken's mental image of himself. For a few moments, Shinji saw what Zouken must have looked like in his youth: a hale and hearty blue-haired man. But it didn't last long: the hair fell out, the flesh sagged, the spine bent, and Zouken took on his usual appearance. His 500 years of age were engraved on his soul itself, and he could not escape the weight of those many years no matter how many fresh new bodies he took for himself.
"My robe." Zouken said in his raspy voice.
Shinji quickly handed a black robe to grandfather as he emerged from the worm pit. Zouken was at his most energetic in the moments following the transformation: suffused with freshly stolen prana, and inhabiting a body that had not yet begun to stink of decay. Confessing to his faults to grandfather was difficult enough when the old man was half-rotted and staying in bed to conserve vital energy; the thought of delivering the news he bore to Zouken in his current powerful state was enough to make Shinji break out into a cold sweat.
"Well?" Zouken demanded. "You had a reason for waking me, I presume? Go on, spit it out!"
"Grandfather..." Shinji swallowed in fear. "I regret to report that there has been a break-in. The safe was opened, and that special item... the Mystic Code... was gone."
"I am aware." Zouken said. "My worms witnessed the theft."
There were several moments of tense silence while Shinji waited for Zouken to speak further, but the only sound in the dark room was the undulations of the worms. Finally, Shinji couldn't bear the tension any longer.
"And what are you going to do about it!?" Shinji demanded.
"Nothing." Zouken said simply.
It took Shinji a few moments to be certain he'd heard right.
"Nothing?" he sputtered. "Nothing!? Someone broke into our home and stole something precious—"
"Something worthless." Zouken corrected sharply. "I value only those things which are necessary; all else is dross. The Mystic Code has already performed the function I required of it, and will not be needed again. Furthermore, the modifications I made to it for the purpose of fulfilling that particular function have rendered it unsuitable for being used for its original function as a weapon, so I need not fear the thief using it against me. The moment it had no further use for me, it became an unnecessary thing, devoid of any value."
Shinji had a hard time thinking about it that way. The Gem Sword had been a legendary Mystic Code; even if grandfather's alterations meant it could no longer be used as a weapon, it was hard not to think of the shining crystal blade as an item of immense value. Still, he had little choice but to agree with Zouken.
"I understand." Shinji said, a little hesitantly.
"Oh, do you, now!?" Zouken demanded, casting one wrathful eye at Shinji's trembling body. "Tell me this then, boy: What have you done so far to prove your value to me in this war? Have you defeated any Servants? Killed any Masters? Are you even a single solitary step closer to achieving the dream I have striven for over the centuries? Or are you just another unnecessary thing?"
"I..." Shinji said falteringly. "I have gained... valuable tactical information about Berserker and the Einzbern Master... Which I will act on, as soon as Rider recovers from its injuries. Rest assured, by tomorrow night, I will have come up with a plan for defeating Berserker."
Zouken didn't dignify Shinji with a response, simply turning his back and walking upstairs. Shinji was left alone in the darkness, trembling with shame and anger. Normally when Shinji felt this way, he was able to vent his feelings on Sakura. But his sister wasn't here; the slut had probably run off to Emiya's house, now that Zouken was allowing her a bit more free reign. She should've been down in the pit, but Zouken wasn't forcing the worms on her anymore, apparently as a reward for summoning the Rider Servant that she didn't even want and which was so shitty it couldn't even land a hit on Berserker...
Though, that did give Shinji an idea. It might just be a Servant, but it was female; a fairly attractive looking-one, in fact. With her pale skin, long purple hair, and large breasts, she even looked somewhat similar Sakura. And the Crest Worms, those wonderful worms which drove Sakura into such a lustful frenzy that he could make her beg him to violate her, were inside of Rider as well. They were supposed to be providing her with the prana which he was incapable of giving due to his lack of magic circuits, but he was sure Zouken wouldn't mind if he switched them to their other function for just a while. It would be the perfect way to punish Rider for humiliating him with her failure.
"Rider!" Shinji shouted, raising the Book of the False Attendant. "Come and serve your Master!"
In the nearby pit, the worms stirred. They sensed his lust and hatred and desire to violate, and it made them writhe in dark ecstacy as they anticipated what was to follow.
===Interlude Out===