Note, this chapter was posted back in November, so some news in this chapter's endnote is especially outdated.
A brilliant trail of sparks arced through the air as the steel blade of Clarent scraped over the bronze of Leonidas's shield. As the Lancer jabbed at Mordred's midriff, my Saber side-stepped the attack before lashing out with the back of her right gauntlet, trying to slam it against the enemy Servant's helmet and disorient him.
The Spartan grunted loudly, however, and bent backwards, and the knight's attack hit only empty air. She released a furious grunt, however, as the circular bronze shield slammed into her chest, pushing her back. Mordred swung her sword wildly, however, preventing her opponent from being able to take advantage of the moment.
Shaking her head and recovering, Mordred flung herself forward once more, and I quickly looked to the sides of the dueling Servants. Despite being outnumbered (which honestly is a depressingly common occurrence for us), the other Servants were holding their ground, and were slowly but surely starting to whittle down the numbers of the original two hundred enhanced soldiers from when the battle had started five minutes ago
This may very well have been one of the longest fights that I saw my Servant engaged in with another Servant. At the same time, it wasn't all that surprising, truth be told. I considered Mordred to be one of, if not the, ultimate offensive Servants. Leonidas was the exact opposite. Therefore, the battle had been stuck essentially in a push-and-shove stalemate.
It was something Mordred was apparently done with, however, as she kicked the Lancer almost a hundred feet away from her.
"You've been in our way long enough," Mordred snarled, an angry glint in her eyes as she dismisses her monstrous-looking helmet. Adjusting her grip on Clarent's hilt, I saw the ridges near the base of the sword click open, as a familiar sight began before my eyes. I hear Nero gasp in awe, but don't look at her, instead raising a hand over my eyes in preparation for Mordred's gambit.
"Let's see you hold up against this," Mordred said, smirking, as the backdraft of her Noble Phantasm had her ponytail flying wildly behind her. "CLARENT—"
"Brace yourselves!" I shouted, remembering how Nero and her followers hadn't encountered Mordred's ultimate attack. Nero snapped out of the state of awe she had fallen into, and thankfully followed my advice, as Mordred finished her incantation.
"—BLOOD ARTHUR!" With a thundering boom, the column of energy surged from Mordred's sword towards the crouching Lancer. His eyes began to glow, and my gut instinct was that he was preparing to reply with his own Noble Phantasm.
At the last minute, however, Ritsuka shouted out. "Chiron, do it now!" I looked over to see that the Greek Archer had notched an arrow to his bowstring, aiming it at the Spartan. While Mash and the others had been holding the line valiantly against Leonidas's second wave of enhanced soldiers, Chiron had subtly maneuvered himself to the side, and with the enemy Lancer focused primarily on Mordred, hadn't noticed that the famed Mentor of Heroes had a clear line of sight to target him from behind.
In a blink of an eye, Chiron released his hold on the taut bowstring, and it swung forward, catapulting the arrow into the air at a supernatural speed, head, shaft, and feathering seeming to vanish before reappearing in the small of Leonidas's back. The Lancer grunted in pain, and instinctively turned around, his focus disrupted, and now with a broken guard to boot.
Before he could recover from those two mistakes, Mordred's Noble Phantasm hit home, blasting into and then through him, scouring the dried ground in front and behind Leonidas. I feel a wave of nausea rise from my stomach as the smoke settled, and I could see that Clarent Blood Arthur had essentially bisected the Greek Servant, as he toppled backwards without a sound, and Mordred and I hesitantly moved closer. Out of the corner of my eyes, I could see the enemy soldiers who were still fighting had vanished in a golden cloud one by one.
"You good?" I quietly asked the panting Saber as she caught her breath. The English knight shook her head slightly, warily eyeing the dying Servant.
The fatally-injured Lancer laughed bitterly, blood dripping down his chest as his severed lower half finished disappearing. However, the bitterness didn't seem to be directed at Mordred or the rest of us. Perhaps at whoever gave him his orders, or just fate in general? "Just as I thought, huh? In a battle with nothing to protect…" With those final words, King Leonidas of Sparta vanished.
So too did the remaining soldiers, no longer capable of remaining in this plane of existence without the Noble Phantasm responsible. Behind us, Nero's army roared in approval and victory, while Nero had a conflicted expression on her face.
"He also vanished, like my uncle," she said softly. "So, he wasn't meant to exist in this world after all."
"He wasn't half-bad," Mordred grinned ferally as her helmet retracted, Clarent resting against her shoulder guard. Mash nodded at the powerful Saber.
"Indeed, he was a formidable enemy. Just what you'd expect of the ultimate defensive Heroic Spirit." I saw Mordred purse her lips slightly at the Demi-Servant's words, but she didn't say anything. "What are your readings now, Doctor Roman?"
"No signs of any other Servants or humans around us. No Phantasmals, either," he said, and I exhaled slowly, sliding my sword gracefully into its sheathe. The hilt landed against the metal rim with a loud click. I looked over at Nero, whose earlier display of unease had vanished.
"If that is the case, then let's resume our march! Forward!" Nero called out, her features confidant again.
Thankfully, the showdown against Leonidas and his elite unit had been the only unforeseen incident to the plan. We re-united with the two Servants and their forces, and then slowly but surely made our way to the location Stheno had given us. Thankfully, the Divine Spirit hadn't been deceitful…this time.
We stood towards the center of the army, and I gazed over the heads of the rows of soldiers, hailing from all the various provinces of the Roman Empire who had been fighting hard for their emperor, and at the opposite army assembled before the gates of the unnamed city they guarded.
Just as I had suspected, it was an army that outnumbered ours at least three-to-one. The equipment of the enemy soldiers varied from the early republic era of Rome, pre-dating the modern image of a Roman Legionary, to looking almost identical to the ones behind me. What I couldn't see, however, were any Servants, nor the cursed Lev.
"Pathetic," Mordred scoffed, sneering at the enemy. "A ruler should fight near the front, and share the same dangers as their subjects," she growled, spitting at the dirt before her. Mash nodded, staring ahead intently.
"Indeed, there's still no sign of any Servants other than the ones with us," the Demi-Servant said. "We will probably encounter some when we break into the city. I hope we can find that court mage…" mash added softly, and I growled under my breath. I wrap my fingers loosely around the hilt of my sword, taking comfort in gripping it.
"This is it, Ritsuka," I said softly, and my fellow Master looked at me with a grim stare of determination. "I know you hate the idea, as I know I do, but we have to let these men give their lives to buy us time. It's little different from Orléans. Only the type of enemy has changed. We punch through that gate, make our way to the center of this city, and retrieve the Grail."
"Hai," Ritsuka said, using his native language quietly. I place my free hand on his shoulder and give it a comforting squeeze as I looked over his head.
Nearby were Boudica and Spartacus, both in full battle regalia. The Thracian had swapped out his BDSM gear (sorry, armor) for a breastplate and a gladiator-style helmet that enclosed his head, though the mad gleam in his eyes could be seen as he bounced back and forth on the balls of his feet slightly. The Berserker was clearly ready for the upcoming fight, and it felt pretty damn nice to have a Berserker helping us for once instead of trying to slaughter us.
Boudica's expression was more impassive, the Rider adopting the stance of a veteran campaigner prepared to take to the field once more. Upon reuniting, the Servant had been summoned by Nero, and the two had held a private meeting. Whatever had happened during that session, none of us knew. The two rivals had been tight-lipped about the matter, but were still cordial to one another. Though, Nero had seemed awkward at times around the Servant. Speaking of the blonde emperor…
"Umu, it's the final showdown," Nero said softly beside Ritsuka and I, having dismounted from her temporary horse to fight instead on foot. I winced internally at the unintentional song reference that she had just made. At least she hadn't said 'countdown'. Last thing I need is to be mentally singing one of Europe's songs in a middle of a battle!
Unaware of my inner thoughts, Nero spun around on her golden sabaton heels, and gazed at her soldiers. "Now is the time to gather my strength, and yours, my faithful soldiers. With this battle, Rome will become one again!" A deep, rumbling roar rang out in response, and the Emperor of Roses drew her sword with her typical dramatic flair, before leveling the lighting-bolt shaped blade at the sealed gates across from us. "Those miserable pretenders to the throne are cowering behind their fodder. Now is the time for the false Rome to fall! Fight, my soldiers! As my swords, annihilate very one of those pretenders! My sword is the Original Flame, and the sound of it clashing is like a star streaking across the night sky. Listen in awe and praise it! Rejoice, my Swords!"
"NERO! NERO! NERO! ROME! ROME! ROME!" Her soldiers chanted, knocking their swords into the brim of their shields, an earth-shaking clammer the ultimate result. Looking back ahead, I saw that the front ranks of the enemy army beginning to shift slightly, then more obviously as the first row of soldiers broke the line to advance towards us at a rather rapid pace.
Nero nodded to the primus pilus, the senior centurions of the first cohorts of the legions at her disposal, and each smartly saluted her before spinning around to face their units, and began barking out the orders given to them. Just like in the various historical pieces that had been written on it, the Roman Army moved almost in unison. The first rank readied their shields, while the ranks further back readied their heavy, lead-tipped javelins to be thrown as the first row of soldiers came closer and closer.
Towards the rear, the archers trained by Chiron unleashed their first volley of feathered arrows,
Soon, the battle turned into one massive melee. Swords, spears, shields, arrows, and even fists were thrown back and forth. Men screamed and groaned, and it took all my will power to not throw up at the horrific sounds and sensations overloading my brain. A rough shake of my left shoulder had me looking at the helmed Mordred, who gave a solemn nod.
"Stay with us, Master," she said with a teasing lilt to her words. I nodded and gave a weak smile, before taking a deep breath to steel my nerves. I can do this. I faced off against Servants, dragons, and more. I can do this. No, I will do this! Pulling out my own sword, I take one more deep breath before we joined the fight.
I do my best to block out the sounds of men killing one another as we make our way past the struggling mass of flesh and blood and steel. After a few minutes, it almost feels easy to do so. I loose track of how long it was until the next voice I could clearly register over the din was heard, but when it did, I brought me to a skidding halt.
"A Servant has entered the battle!" Mash called out, before another, louder voice overtook hers.
"RARRRRGGGGGGH!"
The sound of a feral roar had me looking to the side. Up ahead, a massive man was cutting a swath of death and destruction through friend and foe alike with two gilded axes. Bright red blood stained both the blades and his skin, which was almost as black as the darkest hours of the night. His eyes smoldered like molten gold, a solid color, as he bared gilded teeth as he turned his attention towards us. Golden chains and other curious-looking trinkets swung wildly in the wind as he roared again and began charging towards us. Those who weren't slayed by his massive axes were trampled underfoot, Roman and United Empire dying without any regard.
"I'll take a gander and answer 'Berserker for $500," I groaned. After all, the clear showings of battle madness, combined with Mash's declaration of his status as a Servant, strongly hinted at the class he had been summoned as. Mordred let out a low whistle, and I could detect the faintest of traces of awe in her voice.
"Damn, that's a big one, all right," she muttered. I grunted in response.
"Doesn't matter. If he is fixated on us, then we'll just have to take him down first, hit him fast and hard. Get ready!"
As it turned out, someone else had their intentions regarding the unnamed Berserker.
"Hahaha! Worthy opponent, you are mine! Taste my blade, oppressor!" Spartacus shouted, grinning like a loon with a raised sword, slamming his body into the enemy Servant, blocking his path to us. Following close by, Boudica waved us onward with her sword. Splatters of blood stained her clothing, but she paid little heed to it, a determined fire in her eyes.
"We'll handle things out here! You guys focus on getting inside and ending this madness!" The Rider shouted over the ruckus thrown up by the two giants trading punches, and then disappeared herself as threw herself back into the fray.
"You learned the lady, let's go!" I said, gripping my sword as an enemy soldier charged towards us. Sidestepping his slash, I swing my blade, aiming low as the blade bites into the back of his unprotected legs. With a loud grunt of pain, the man fell to one knee. I prepared to deliver the final blow, when Nero thankfully took over, gracefully slitting his throat with a flick of her wrist as the Servants around us dealt swiftly with his doomed comrades.
The process repeated itself countless times, and soon my muscles began to ache as the constant exertion took its toll. Nero and Ritsuka looked to be in a similar state, while Mash looked only slightly winded. Our Servants, of course, showed no sign of any level of fatigue. To them, this must be akin to a light exercise routine. An admittedly grim and gory one, but still the same level of exertion necessary for Heroic Spirits as we cut a narrow swathe through the enemy ranks. Slowly but surely, as we pushed deeper, we put more and more distance between Nero's army as we got ever closer and closer to the barred gates.
To my grim satisfaction, I could no longer see any legionaries bearing symbols that showed their affiliation with the Emperor of Roses. Good. That means we can finally solve the little problem of getting inside the city without causing any casualties to our erstwhile allies in the process. I skid to a stop and raise my hand, gesturing to the others to halt. I look towards my Saber.
"Okay, I think this is good enough. Mordred, unleash your Noble Phantasm," I commanded by partner. Her helmet disassembled itself once more, and though she hadn't told me if that was the case, it seems that in order to use it, she couldn't wear her helmet. Curious.
"This is the evil blade that destroyed my father," Mordred said as she built up her attack. "CLARENT BLOOD ARTHUR!" She howled as she let loose her most powerful attack in her arsenal.
The column of untamed energy roared forward, incinerating dozens, perhaps hundreds of United Empire soldiers before slamming against the iron gates barring our path into the city. Mordred's Noble Phantasm blasted the doors off of their hinges, along with large chunks of the marble sides of the gatehouse, and when it was over, I could see a clear path towards the entrance to the city. Without a word, our group charged over the charred, smoking ground, our progress unhindered by the now-stupefied survivors.
Though our progress was unheeded, I kept my sword at the ready. After all, it was only the soldiers in the immediate area who were affected by shock, not the entire army of the United Empire. The lack of any reaction, of any wave of reinforcements either from the flanks or from the city had me on guard. I found the lack of movement from the latter to be particularly worrisome.
Numerically superior or not, a wise commander would ensure that there be some sort of reserve, either to launch a final assault on a weakened foe or to plug in any breaches. And yet, there was nothing. The possibility of this being another trap instantly came to mind, but unfortunately, we were out of time or options to serve as an alternative.
Finally, we reached the gate, when my commlink began beeping furiously. Coming to a halt, as did the others, I raised my arm and activated the wrist-mounted device. "Jacob here. We're breached the gates and are about to enter," I reported.
"Wait there, I've detected a Servant signature! It's right ahead of you, and closing rapidly!" Doctor Roman shouted. At that same moment, I stumbled to a halt as I felt a shift in the air. The atmosphere…it felt denser, almost. More confining. Was it perhaps the work of the Servant the doc had just warned us about?
Sure enough, a giant man with muscular bronze skin appeared. He had red eyes, but unlike the ones possessed by the defeated Caligula, they held not madness but wisdom, and perhaps even a touch of arrogance? He wore a ridiculously minimum amount of armor even for a Servant, and in one hand he grasped an odd-looking item, a large staff with long bushes at either end made of what appeared to be horsehair dyed crimson. When he spoke, it sounded like a bronze bell, strong, confidant, and old.
"Rome welcomes you."
Original Endnotes:And done! Sorry we can't focus more on Darius, but hey, at least now we have another reason for the absence of Spartacus and Boudica for the upcoming boss battle. Did you guys enjoy the chapter? Sorry if it is subpar any, but there has been some...unpleasant personal developments.
My sister has tested positive for Covid-19, and has probably infected my mother. Since I don't live with either of them, and haven't seen them since summer, I am not at risk from getting it from either of them. However, that is a pretty damn small comfort considering my mom might be considered as being one of those at-risk groups. So, I am mainly writing to helped distract me because there's jackshit I can do other than write, pray, and finish my finals. Good news for the last part is that I am halfway done with my essays, so I am still on track for a posting this Thursday/Friday. Sorry for the rant, and y'all probably don't want/care to hear about this, but here it is.
Now, for the question of the day(s): What has been your favorite moment so far for this Singularity in the story? The other question is, what's your idea of an ideal date?
Once again, many thanks for reading the story, and giving all the support and feedback that y'all have done so far. Means a lot, and I cannot wait to see y'alls reactions and thoughts, and I'll see ya in the next chapter! Hope you all enjoyed
Updated endnote 8/19/21: Mother and Sister did catch covid, but they recovered. Anyways, trying to be more constant on this end so I can catch up to the 113 (and counting) total chapters for Will to Fight. Hope you enjoyed it