I stared morosely at the gaping cave entrance. There was nothing fancy about the surrounding features, merely being an opening at the base of a gentle hill and was just big enough that a horse-drawn cart and a man or two standing next to the cart could pass through with relative ease. Judging by the faded indentations of wheels, hooves, and feet leading in and out of the cave, at least. The most unsettling thing I could see, other than the cave itself, were the torch scones on either side of the gaping entrance. The work either of our counterfeiter or one of her Servants, no doubt.
Nor were they the only ones visible. As far as I could tell, a steady line of further torch scones was embedded on either side of the descending corridor. Unlike the outdoor pair, however, these ones were lit. That meant that someone was here very recently, otherwise they would have also been in a state of disuse.
I turned to the others. "Okay, Mordred, you will take the lead, Sasaki, Emiya, Boudica, Da Vinci. You four will take up the center with me. Lu Bu, I'm leaving the rear to you. Make sure that no one is tailing us down here." The Berserker in question let out a low growl of acknowledgement as Mordred and my other Servants chimed in.
"Alright Jacob."
"You got it, Master."
"Piece of cake."
I nodded, pleased, before turning back to look at the uninviting cave entrance. I heard an armored Mordred saunter on up next to me, and then delivered a gentle punch to my right shoulder. I looked at the shorter blonde.
"Hey, don't worry, princess. You got me by your side. The others too, of course," the Knight of Rebellion added in rather haphazardly, but I understood the veiled meaning to her words. Mordred was going to make sure that this time our cave exploration doesn't go hellishly wrong. Or at least, to the best of her abilities.
"Okay," I said softly, barley managing to rein in my desire to deliver a brief peck on the cheek. While it would be totally worth it in my opinion, it would greatly embarrass the knight. Instead, I took a nervous step forward. "Well, let's see what's waiting for us inside then."
I wasn't sure if the fact that our progress through the winding passage had gone unhindered was a good or bad thing. There certainly was the chance that the earlier ambush had dealt with most, if not all of the guards assigned to defend the area. However, cynical though it might sound, I refused to believe that it was going to be as simple as that.
And even if the homunculus guards were the only ones in the area, they wouldn't have been the only guards. Alexander had mentioned how there were a number of fellow Counterfeit Heroic Spirits that were spread out in the various locations that were frequented by our main suspect. Unless the document we had discovered was a cruel prank, this was one of those areas.
Ergo, somewhere up ahead, waiting, were one or more enemy Servants. Despite the fact that encountering them would mean another vicious fight to the death, I couldn't deny a guilty sense of excitement at finding out who else had been summoned. Partially for their identities, yes, but also because right now, these Counterfeit Heroic Spirits themselves were clues to discovering who the final boss, as Ritsuka would say, was.
Speaking of my fellow Master…
I couldn't help but wonder how he was doing. I didn't believe for a second that he couldn't accomplish anything on his own. It was just hard because he had become one of the people I was rather protective of. However, if there was any actual trouble, I trusted that Doctor Roman would more than be able to assist Rits and his team.
I growled silently and shook my head. "Stop getting distracted, Jacob," I muttered to myself under my breath.
"Did you say something?" Boudica asked with her typical tone of motherly concern. I couldn't help but smile at the redhead and shook my head.
"Nah, I was just talking to myself. The sooner we accomplish everything we need to in here, the better."
"Well, you're just in luck, Master," Mordred threw the words over her shoulder. "It looks like we found the main chamber. Looks empty too. Check it out."
Needing no further prompting, and more than a bit happy to have the distraction of focusing on my mission to clear my mind once more, I increased my pace slightly, quickly standing beside my partner. I whistled softly, flinching a bit at the echoing sound.
"Someone's really been busy," I remarked a bit off-handedly. The outer perimeter of the cavern was ringed with more lit torches. The flames casted ominous-looking shadows, but thankfully, I didn't see any ghosts. Just regular-old shadows.
"Alright, spread out, but not too far. We don't know what else is down here," I said softly, not wanting to raise my voice at the present moment. The other Servants acknowledged my commands, and we started to take a look around the cavern.
It took less than a minute before the search was over.
"Ha! More counterfeit examples of my hard work!" Da Vinci suddenly roared, and I flinched as the Italian Caster virtually gave away any remaining vestige of stealth we'd been afforded. Worse, I knew that she would be unrepentant about it, and so I thus didn't even bother to try. Instead, I shook my head and hurried over towards the direction Da Vinci's voice had come from.
Sure enough, the eccentric and theatrical Servant was standing, hands on hips, in front of another easel-mounted copy of the Mona Lisa. I also noted the fact that the picture seemed more like the actual painting, and not a fake. Perhaps the workshop had been more of a sketching place, or some sort of test-run? If so, then that would mean we had just discovered the main scene of the crime, as Da Vinci no doubt would describe it as being.
It wasn't just the Mona Lisa, either. Just like last time, there were other easels that were covered. There were a lot more this time though. If I had to make a guess, at least a hundred. Possibly more.
"Our counterfeiter sure is keeping herself busy, alright," Sasaki said softly, walking over. Reaching out with an extended finger, the Assassin gently prodded the canvas, quickly retracting his hand to turn it at us. "This picture was just finished."
"We just missed her, then," I said rather grimly. Da Vinci harrumphed, glaring at the copied painting once more.
"Yes, but that's not what we should be focusing on right now!"
"And what should that be?" I asked, frowning slightly as I crossed my arms at her.
"Look at it! It's unforgiveable!"
"What's new?" Mordred growled in mild annoyance.
"What I hate isn't the skill," Da Vinci continued, ignoring Mordred's not-so-subtle verbal jab. "It's the passion! Skill-wise, it's still just an inferior copy, but the passion is real. But she's not trying to imitate me! Instead of putting in the passion to imitate me, our counterfeiter is starting to put it towards surpassing me!"
"And it seems that it is more than just your work, too," Emiya called out, revealing another painting. This one wasn't a copy of any of the ones from the lookalike workshop from yesterday but seemed to be based on the work of an entirely different artist. "This is The Continence of Scipio, a painting by the Venetian painter Giambattista Pittoni, from the eighteenth century. Her skills are inferior, but when with her passion, they make it seem like the real thing."
"While that is interesting, it also raises an entirely different question." I interjected politely. The others all turned to look at me. "It's the basic question behind this whole Pseudo-Singularity. Why? Why is she doing this?"
"An excellent question!"
I wouldn't deny that I almost jumped into the air at the answer. It hadn't come from any of my Servants, nor from my commlink. I whirled around.
"Who's there?" I demanded. "Show yourself!"
"Oh!" Exclaimed a familiar-sounding voice. I stiffened slightly, while Mordred pushed her way in front of me. "Fancy meeting you again, young Master of Chaldea. You as well, Mordred."
"You!" Mordred snarled, Clarent at the ready, her face drawn into a fearsome scowl. I reacted in a calmer manner, crossing my arms and raising an eyebrow as the figure drew closer.
"Hector," I said in polite greeting. "I see Lady Luck has decided that we would meet again, apparently." The Trojan Lancer shrugged, leaning against his weapon lazily. Having seen the difficulty he could become as an enemy for even Mordred, should he wish it, the action did little to put me at ease.
Not to mention the whole, you know, almost murdering me the first time we met.
"So it would seem. Then again, perhaps it should have been expected," Hector mused. Da Vinci cleared her throat politely, taking a half-step forward.
"Does that mean you're another Counterfeit Heroic Spirit?" Chaldea's Head of Engineering inquired rather bluntly. Hector chuckled, shaking his head in bemusement as he shrugged again.
"Well, if you think about it, Servants are basically counterfeits to begin with. So, it would make me happy if you would just let me go."
"Like hell I'd do anything that'd make you happy, bastard," Mordred said, displaying her marvelous ability to hold a grudge. Emiya summoned his bow but didn't notch an arrow yet.
"That's not possible," he said, my Archer opting for a more diplomatic response. "You're still assisting the counterfeiter in spreading her 'work'," he added with a stern look, frowning softly. Hector clicked his tongue in what sounded like disappointment.
"Are Heroes of Justice always this stubborn?" Leaning a little more against his staff, the Lancer's gaze locked on to me. I tensed my body on instinct. "Then, what about you, young Master? I personally think you're likely to be a bit more flexible." I glared at Hector.
I was infuriated by the insult to my honor his words inflicted upon me, but I refused to act recklessly. "Not when it comes to doing my job, that's for damn sure. Why are you there? Who is this counterfeiter mistress you and Alexander were summoned by?" My eyes narrowed as I pointed at the green-wearing Lancer. "Tell us what your goal is."
There was a momentary standoff between the two sides. I lowered my hand, moving it instead towards the hilt of my sword. Finally, the Counterfeit Heroic Spirit shook his head slightly, a soft chuckle escaping from his lips. "My goal, you say?" Hector said in what could best be described as a bemused tone. "My goal, huh…" The Trojan prince stood up, no longer slouching. There was a nostalgic-looking smile on his lips. "Well, if I really have to say, it's just to pat her head."
We were all thrown for a loop at that. The silence in the cavern was deafening. I coughed, regaining some of my earlier composure. "Er, come again?" I asked politely, blinking in confusion. Mordred made an adorable sound of confusion as she titled her heard, while Da Vinci gave the most verbose response of us all.
"I don't understand what you're talking about!" The Caster practically hollered. The volume of her voice had me flinching a bit. Ah, and here comes good old tinnitus. How I have so sorely (not) missed you.
"Wait, is this about your mistress?" I asked, my eyes widening. Hector nodded and pointed at me with a slight grin on his lips.
"Correct. My job is to spoil her. The role of Hector is," the Lancer said, and he raised his voice several pitches in volume, trying to sound more feminine, "'A friendly, free-spirited older man who's back from overseas, and who may or may not be related by blood!' Word for word," Hector added in his normal tone. I could have sworn that there was a cricket or something chirping in the background.
Hector had proven to be something of a character back in the Third Singularity, that was true. This, however? Well…
"Too long," Mordred groaned, running her empty left hand down her face, starting just below her eyes. I grunted before speaking up.
"What is this, Hector? A Pseudo-Singularity or a sit-com?" I said rather dryly. "Overseas? From where?" Nearby, Emiya sighed wearily.
"I would advise against overthinking on this, Master Jacob. Delving into vague backstories is a good way to get burned." Hector laughed again.
"Your Hero of Justice over there has a point. Allow me to break it down some, then. Basically, my mistress wants someone who cares. Someone gentle and sweet, who does whatever she says." Now both of my eyebrows were raised.
Alright, this was starting to feel less like a mission to save humanity, and more of a who-done-it skit. With each encounter with the counterfeiter's minions, we were starting to learn about her, little by little. It was certainly a unique situation that I found myself in, even though it was rather frustrating.
"First Alexander, and now this?" Emiya asked, giving voice to my musings. "Seems like your mistress is something of a spoiled child." Hector shrugged as he laughed again, not bothering to even attempt to deny the observation.
"I can't disagree with you on that charge," the Lancer said, idly scratching the right side of his head. "But isn't that kind of what makes her adorable?" He paused, and to my surprise he adopted a more serious and thoughtful expression. "When a spoiled child is demanding, it usually means that they're testing your trust. And they're doing that because they're scared."
"My two daughters did that when they were young," Boudica suddenly interjected, a sad but fond look in her eyes as the British Rider stared off into the distance. "Your mistress sounds like quite the character." I felt my heart ache in sympathy, the story of her daughters well-known in Chaldea. Nero was almost constantly trying to find ways to make amends for it, bless her heart. I reached out with my free hand and sympathetically clasped the hand of my Servant. She gave me an appreciative look, and we focused once more on Hector. The Lancer in question was nodding his head with a fond expression on his features.
"Pretty much. So, wouldn't you agree that it is kinda cute?" Da Vinci hummed, before suddenly snapping her fingers, her eyes almost glowing in excitement.
"So, a dandy-type Heroic Spirit who spoils you, huh? It works!" Chaldea's self-declared genius remarked. I scratched my chin, and I had a moment of my own clarity. I pointed at Hector.
"That description she gave you," I started, and the Counterfeit Heroic Spirit made the universal 'go on' gesture with one hand. "She wants you to be some sort of uncle." He nodded proudly.
"Bingo," Hector confirmed. He looked at each of us for a few seconds, before sighing in disappointment. "Well, it's been nice talking and all, but I suppose we can't just do that. See, I got a job to do, and this old man won't fail his mistress!" Hector kicked the butt of his lance, causing the spear to fly upwards.
Catching it midair, I watched in awe as the ancient warrior pointed Durandal at us. "I may be a counterfeit here, but I'll still give it my all, damn it!"
"Finally! Been waiting to chop off that head of yours again, Lancer!" Mordred said almost hungrily, her helmet enclosing her features once more. However, both she and I were thrown aback momentarily as Hector laughed, no, cackled, triumphantly.
"I remember that. Thanks for giving me a more dignified death than Achilles, by the way. I really mean it. As a reward, I swear I won't personally target your Master, this time." Despite his words, I couldn't help but shiver slightly at the unusually vicious smirk that appeared on his lips.
"What?"
"That being said, they didn't!" Before I could even think to ask Hector what the hell eh was going on about this time, I felt something approaching me from behind. The hairs stood up on the back of my neck as I tightened my grip on the hilt of my sword.
"The hell you…MASTER!" Mordred's voice echoed in alarm, just as I whirled around. A grey homunculus similar to the ones from before towered over me, one hand raised. I hastened to draw my sword even as the fist began to descend. "Duck!"
I followed Mordred's command without a moment's hesitation. I heard something whistling through the air as I hit the ground, followed right afterwards by a meaty smack. Looking up, I saw my would-be assailant stumbling backwards, the hilt of Clarent sticking out of its chest. A split-second later, Mordred appeared. Grabbing her sword, she heaved upwards, and the broad blade of her weapon carved a gory path upwards, splitting the upper torso and head of the crude-looking humanoid in half. The lifeless corpse fell backwards, twitching in a rapidly-spreading pool of transparent blood.
Pushing myself up onto my feet, I saw that we were surrounded by at least thirty to forty large homunculus foes. Each one was of a rocky-grey coloring, and I realized, much to my own frustration, that they had been camouflaged against the walls. Assuming that the torches illuminating the cave would have shown us if anyone was hiding near them, none of us had considered double-checking. A mistake I wouldn't repeat again.
Mordred spun around on her heels, and I could imagine the murderous look in her emerald eyes right now under that helmet of hers as she glared at Hector. "You sneaky rat bastard! I'll cut you to pieces this time before killing you," she snarled, but Hector laughed.
"I figured you'd do that either way, Mordred. Besides, this is the best way to even the odds. After all, there's only one of me, going up against six Servants. You'll probably not take long to finish off my companions, but only one of you can engage in combat with me."
Mordred growled angrily, taking a step forward, clearly ready for another rematch with her pseudo-nemesis. However, a large hand gripped her right pauldron, forcing the Knight of Rebellion to an abrupt halt.
"Lu Bu?" I asked, startled by the Berserker's actions. "You wish to fight Hector on your own?" The Chinese Servant growled softly, readying his polearm with an envious display of grace. "Alright. Be careful, he's a slippery bugger." To my mild amusement, Lu Bu merely rolled his eyes at that, as if to say, 'So what?'
"Bah," Mordred scoffed through gritted teeth. "Make sure to kick his ass, L.B." I couldn't help but cringe slightly at Mordred's apparent nickname for the towering Berserker, but thankfully the Servant in question didn't respond. He had eyes only for Hector.
The Lancer nodded slowly, a ghost of a smile on his lips. In an instant, the act of being a lazy old man was shed, and I could see once more the fearsome defender of the City of Troy, who had almost single-handedly held off the besieging Greek army for ten years.
"Alright, big guy, show this old man what you've got!"
Unable to give proper voice to an insult or challenge of any sort, Lu Bu began to charge forward. At the same time, the surrounding homunculi also began to close in.
"Alright you lot, bring them down quick and hard!" Mordred roared, removing the need for me to voice any commands. My precious knight didn't even wait to finish speaking before she sprang into action, instead lunging forward. A split-second later, not one but three homunculi were scattered around her, each viciously bisected in half by the same blow.
Boudica, Sasaki, Emiya, and Da Vinci quickly followed suit, and I was left with the questionable honor of being able to watch the fighting without getting involved. However, I knew that throwing myself not the fray would only get in the way of the others, so instead, I settled on watching the duel between the two ancient champions.
With a terse grunt, Hector bent backwards, and Lu Bu's weapon sailed harmlessly instead of digging deep into the Lancer's torso. Taking a few large steps back, Hector quickly straightened back up and then bent forward, thrusting Durandal at Lu Bu's breastplate.
The spear skidded off of the fabric-covered armor, though the attack didn't completely miss. Whether by design or pure chance, the sword-like tip of Hector's spear buried itself into the shoulder of my Berserker. I could tell both by the lack of a burning sensation on the back of the hand that bore my Command Seals and also on first glance that the wound was of a superficial nature.
As if to prove my point, Lu Bu roared angrily, grabbing Durandal just below the hilt-like cross guard with his free hand. He dragged the trapped weapon to the side, refusing to let go of it even as Hector tried his best to free himself. With another furious roar, Lu Bu swung Hector around in a half-circle before letting go of Durandal.
Caught off-guard and with no way to check his momentum, Hector was sent flying into a large rock outcropping. I couldn't stop myself from flinching sympathetically at the sound of something cracking. At least one rib, possibly several. To his credit, Hector quickly recovered, albeit now with a pain grimace.
Lu Bu didn't let up his assault, however. He pressed forward, showing almost the same degree of agility as Mordred despite being more than twice her size and weight. It was at this moment that I finally understood truly just how skilled and fearsome a warrior Lu Bu had been during the final days of the Han Dynasty.
The deadly dance continued, both sides probing the defense of the other through experimental jabs and slashes, but no decisive blows were landed. All the while, Hector's guards were being cut down by my other Servants. Something that Hector proved he was aware of.
Realizing that he didn't have much longer to finish off the duel with Lu Bu before being swamped by my other Servants, Hector unleashed on last desperate assault. To the Lancer's credit, he managed to force the Berserker back a few yards.
However, it quickly turned out to have been a ruse. As Hector once more thrusted forth with Durandal, Lu Bu lashed out with his own weapon, running Hector though with a sickening squelch. The battle between them was over.
"Well done, Lu Bu," I said, as Mordred and Sasaki finished off the last of the supporting homunculi. The Berserker snorted in acknowledgement, tersely yanking out his halberd from Hector's chest and backing up a few feet. "I hope you're not going to try to do one last sneak attack like last time, Hector. Try to not get ahead of yourself or anything, and all." Mordred groaned at the pun, but I shrugged it off. I'd probably pay for it in one way or another at a later date, but I could and would deal with it when the time came.
Right now, the priority was on seeing if the slippery Lancer was going to attempt another underhanded deed. However, while he had a cross expression on his features, Hector merely slumped to the floor, clutching his bleeding navel. Durandal faded away in a cloud of golden dust, and parts of Hector's own body began glowing as well.
"Tch, fine, I lost," Hector grumbled, looking extremely frustrated at himself. He sighed, though the noise sounded more like a wheeze halfway through. "I guess this is as far as a counterfeit can go." Da Vinci tapped the butt of her staff on the ground softly, the sound reverberating.
"No, Hector," the Caster began to respond, her voice surprisingly compassionate for someone who had less than five minutes ago been practically spitting fire and brimstone. Then again, Da Vinci did love to surprise people. "You didn't lose because you were a counterfeit. You lost because you're weak."
….
On second thought, I'd have to retract that statement. What the hell, D. V.?! I wasn't the only one shocked by the Caster's words. Even Lu Bu looked at the inventor like she had gone mad. Hector winced, and it wasn't from the pain of his own injury, either.
"Wow, aren't you rather harsh!" The hurt, shocked expression he had then morphed into one more of confusion. "Oddly enough, though….that does make me feel a bit better," Hector remarked, now just a torso. "Welp, looks like my time is up again. Unless I get summoned by you or your friend, young Master, the next time we cross paths, I'll be much stronger."
"In your dreams," Mordred retorted haughtily, but Hector shook his head and laughed heartily.
"We'll see. And with that, see ya!" Thus, with those final words did Hector depart for the Throne of Heroes.
Almost in unison did Mordred and I relax.
"Bit of a damn shame I couldn't get to kick his ass a second time," Mordred muttered. I couldn't help but snort in amusement. I also felt the momentary urge to gently nudge her in the ribs with my elbow, but the reminder of the fact that she was still in her heavy plate armor prevented me from making a foolish if affectionate mistake.
"He may have joked around," Emiya said suddenly, and I turned to look at him, "but his spear was sharp and struck hard. His wit even more so. Carelessness could have meant our end."
"Or his," Da Vinci said rather blithely. "Last time Jacob and Mordred encountered him, he tried to assassinate Jacob. Let's just say that our resident knight didn't take too kindly too that!" Mordred simply smirked at that. "Still, you do have something of a point there, Emiya. A passionate counterfeit…One that seeks to surpass the original…" Da Vinci muttered under her breath, spacing out.
"Well, yeah," Boudica said politely, shrugging her shoulders. "What would you expect? Even in my time, counterfeiters often ended up wishing to become better than the original creator. They don't want to be a nameless imitator. They want to become something more."
"Whoever this mistress we keep speaking of is, I'm sure that her feelings are real, at the very least," Sasaki added softly. Another moment of silence, before I suddenly clapped my hands together lightly.
"Well, we've cleared out this location. I suppose the next question we need to answer is, what are we going to do with these counterfeits here?" I asked, bending down by the fake Mona Lisa. I hadn't noticed it at first, but there was a long, thing object on the ground. It was right next to base of one of the stands of the tripod holding the fake painting.
Reaching out, I picked up a paint brush. I held it close to my eyes, examining it. It seemed rather ordinary, but well-used. My nose twitched as the smell of ash and hay hit my nose. I sniffed the air, wondering if it was just my imagination running rampant.
It wasn't. The scent coming from the brush felt…familiar, though for the life of me, I couldn't remember why. I stood back up, pocketing the piece of evidence. I can take a look at it later.
"Jacob, mind stepping away from there?" Da Vinci said with her usual cheer. I turned around and cocked my head, but the Caster only offered me one of those damn mysterious smiles of hers. I sighed softly and walked over to the others. I had barely finished turning back around when I felt a wave of heat wash over my body.
"What the hell, Da Vinci?!" Mordred snarled as I watched the fireball Da Vinci had thrown begin to consume all of the copycat artworks.
"They're fakes. Destroy them, and we're one step closer to fixing this. Of course, the counterfeiter herself will need to be dealt with, but this'll help speed up the process."
"Okay, reasonable, I suppose," I groused, displeased with the act of wanton destruction. "Nevertheless, couldn't you have just suggested it before starting a fire?" To my irritation, the Caster merely shrugged. Well, the point is moot now, I suppose. Sighing again, I turned to Boudica.
"Let's head back outside. Boudica, can you summon your chariot? I want to get as close as possible to that next location by the river. Preferably tonight, if we can."
"Leave it to me, Master Jacob!"
Original Endnotes: And done! What did y'all think? How am I doing with writing Da Vinci so far? Hope I'm doing her justice! Also, I wonder what's up with the paint brush, hm? :P Also, good old Hector, always being a sneaky Lancer lol. We're about halfway through the event (because my god it is a short event alright), and some parts are coming up that I'm going to address. For those who haven't seen the event, this probably won't matter, but the scene with Arash and Arjuna is either going to be glossed over or skipped entirely. While humorful, it doesn't really work well with the flow of how I want to write this arc, for a multitude of reasons I'll list when we get closer. I just wanted to provide a heads-up for those who played the event/are intimately familiar with it.
Now, for the question(s) of the chapter! First up, for the event, which ending did you vote for? I, perhaps unsurprisingly for y'all, voted for Jeanne Alter. Best Avenger! Second question: On the topic of art, do you have a favorite painting/artist?
As always, thank you for the love and support, and for reading another chapter of The Will to Fight! I hope you enjoyed it, and I can't wait to hear back from y'all. Have a wonderful, and see you in Chapter 92!
Updated Endnotes 08/15/22: As always, the more up-to-date version can be found on Ao3 if you want to skip the wait and all that jazz. Otherwise, I hope you enjoyed the chapter, and I'll see you soon in 92 :)