Boudica had been right about her chariot. It had been a rather tight squeeze fitting her, Da Vinci, Emiya, Sasaki, Mordred, and myself on it, but somehow, we managed. Lu Bu was too big to have fit on the chariot even if the rest of us weren't on it, but the Berserker was more than able to keep up with the moderate pace Boudica was riding at.
Mordred at one point had asked if she could have a turn controlling the chariot. I had been frantically trying to think of a way to subtly prevent a repeat of my snowmobile experience when Boudica came to the rescue. She promised her adopted child that Mordred could have a turn when we had returned to Chaldea.
The contents of my stomach would stay where they should be for another day.
Aside form that brief moment of, ah, 'excitement', the trip had been dull, almost painfully so. Doctor Roman had spent about an hour going over in pain-staking detail Ritsuka's team's progress in Victorian London. I had almost fallen out of the chariot when I learnt that they had run into Mordred. Or rather, a different Mordred. One who didn't have the memories as the one I was dating.
Oh, good lord, Ritsuka brought Artoria with him! I didn't envy Rits having to deal with that situation one bit. After Roman had finished relaying the report, I had told him about the progress on our end, and then ended the transmission.
When we finally arrived at the marked area on the map by the river, it was late at night. A silvery crescent moon glowed over our heads. Combined with a breathtaking view of the stars, unmarred by pollution, it provided for a relaxing scene.
"We're here," Boudica suddenly announced, bringing her vehicle to a halt. We quickly dismounted so that the Rider could dismiss the chariot and its two ghostly horses that pulled it. Then, I took a moment to survey the area.
It was like any other stereotypical riverbank, plants, a few trees, and lots of grass and even more water. The only thing that stood out was a squat, one-story building built from logs. Nearby was a crudely-built dock, also of logs. It was just big enough for a small boat to be tied up to it, though at present there wasn't one. If I had to guess, the building was some sort of storage facility for the completed counterfeit paintings before being moved to another location.
"Well, here we are by the water," Da Vinci declared, rather needlessly, too. She pointed at the mini-warehouse with her summoned staff. "Now, who's that fake Servant behind door number three?!"
Almost as if it had been choreographed, the door of the building swung open, and a tall figure walked over. I quickly recognized the two-handed longsword, the silver hair, the bright glowing markings, and the world's most revealing V-neck I had seen before. And most of all, I recognized the humble, apologetic look on his face.
Siegfried.
"Who's that sorry-looking fellow?" Emiya inquired without any real heat to his words. Ah, that's right, Emiya wasn't with us in France. For the Archer, this was the first time he met the reserved Saber.
"It's Siegfried, vanquisher of the dragon Fafnir. We met him in the First Singularity. Mash described him as the humblest, meekest, and most polite Saber in the whole world." I ignored Mordred's derisive scoff. Those were the words of the Demi-Servant, not mine. Sasaki nodded.
"Master is correct, Archer. Even if he has been summoned as a Counterfeit Heroic Spirit, I highly doubt that would change his personality. Which will make this battle interesting, wouldn't it?" Siegfried bowed his head in that familiar, apologetic manner of his.
"That's right. I am very sorry that we have to fight," the Saber said rather predictably. What wasn't expect, however, was the way that his head suddenly shot upright, an uncharacteristically defiant glint in his bleu eyes. "Not!" I was taken aback by the passion in his voice.
"What did you say?!" I said, wide-eyed. Mordred made a slight choking sound next to me.
"Jacob, you're freaking out," Da Vinci said, being oh-so-helpful at that moment. Still, it was enough to rouse me into shaking off my bout of shock, and I stared flatly at the Caster over my shoulder.
"Well, how would you react if Doctor Roman turned out to be a Casanova?" I shot back. Far from causing Da Vinci from stuttering or anything, the response I got was…unexpected.
"That would be fun," she said with a hum, and I felt a bead of sweat trickle down my forehead as I chuckled nervously.
"What's up with you?" Mordred, being the voice of reason, demanded, taking over as I finished rebooting. "Not that I don't mind you showing some backbone for once, but why now?"
The enemy Saber shrugged, an admittedly unusual gesture to see from the gentle giant. "I can't help it," he said in a clearly unapologetic manner. "I'm a counterfeit, after all. If the original is humble, I must suppress it with my pride to defeat my opponents. Besides, it is rude to tell someone that you are sorry for something when you are not, correct?"
"You're not wrong," I admitted, eyeing the counterfeit warily. Da Vinci hummed thoughtfully, rubbing her chin idly.
"A very arrogant comment, but he's right!" Da Vinci added in agreement. "You are indeed a counterfeit. Tell me, before we begin our fight, allow me to ask a few questions. You serve the same mistress as Hector and Alexander, correct?" Siegfried nodded once, and Da Vinci snapped her fingers excitedly. "Then that means that you too were given a 'role'. Can you tell us what that is?"
"I see no reason to waste time like this, but very well. My mistress told me that my role is 'the bold class celebrity who, by coincidence, sits by her in class."
"…Come again?" I asked politely. So, Alexander was a stepbrother, Hector an uncle, and now Siegfried as a classmate? Were we dealing with a villain, or somebody wishing to have a family and a normal life? Now I really wanted to meet our counterfeiter, if only to find out why she has done all this.
"You heard me," Siegfried said curtly. I frowned softly. Siegfried really was dedicated to pleasing his Master, alright. Next to me, Da Vinci hummed softly, processing the same information before she spoke up again.
"Then what's her na—" Da Vinci began, but Siegfried made a slashing motion in the air between us. It looked like the Counterfeit Saber had had enough with small talk.
"No more questions. Kindness towards an enemy can only be shown if you have the strength to spare it, and I do not. Now let's fight! I've got no reason to fight other than to please my mistress, so I'll fight you with everything I've got!"
"Are you Siegfried, or Sieg, Saber?" Mordred challenged the Counterfeit Saber. The Dragon-Slayer chuckled dryly, readying Balmung.
"I can understand why you would ask me this question, Saber of Red. I can assure you that even though I have been summoned as a Counterfeit Heroic Spirit, I am indeed Siegfried." Mordred made a quiet grunt of pleasure, then turned to me. Her green eyes were shining eagerly. Hungry to cross blades with the enemy Saber. I knew what she was about to ask even before she could open her mouth.
"Master, I request to duel Siegfried, one-on-one. He and I never got to fight one another in our Greater Holy Grail War." I bite the inside of my right cheek, not answering immediately. Despite my confidence in her skills, the idea of Mordred risking herself so brazenly when she had others to support her was…uncomfortable.
Still, I believed in her. She wasn't the kind of person to go around brazenly risking her life with no regard. Furthermore, she was in the unique position of being the only member of the team to have actually fought Siegfried. Granted, it wasn't actually Siegfried, but it was close enough.
Furthermore, Mordred wasn't some fragile porcelain doll. She was a knight. Her ability to deal and take a lot of damage was something I admired about her. As much as I love Mordred, letting my personal feelings hold her back for purely selfish reasons would do our relationship much harm. With hat in mind, I nodded.
"Permission granted, Mordred. I'm counting on you," I said, taking a few steps back. The other Servants copied my actions. Some of them didn't look quite as thrilled as Mordred did, namely Boudica. The Rider frowned in the direction of her adopted child, before reluctantly stepping back.
"I won't let you down, Jacob!" Mordred said with her trademark smirk. Then her helmet reassembled around her face, and once more my beloved knight was encased in her protective armor. She adopted her modified en Garde stance. "Get ready, former Saber of Black," she challenged. Siegfried didn't reply to her words.
Instead, the usually restrained Saber readied his own sword. The cross guard was held parallel to his face, scowling fiercely at both Mordred and me.
"'I am the strongest dragon, descending on the banks of a river beneath a crescent moon. I have nothing to apologize for. Instead, be bold. Be bolder.' That is what my mistress whispered to me. I am one of those dragons who fascinate her so dearly. I'll crush you with my sword, Saber of Red."
"Ha!" Mordred scoffed, before crouching down in another familiar stance. Without another word, my knight shot forward like a bullet, and Siegfried matched her, though moving slightly slower. As I watched the two mighty warriors close in on one another, I could help but utter three simple words under my breath.
"Be safe, Mordred…"
Mordred grinned under Secret of Pedigree even as the former Saber of Black's sword slammed against Clarent. Seeing that her opponent's midriff was partially exposed, the blonde knight activated her Mana Burst ability. In a blink of an eye, her knee slammed into Siegfried's gut.
The Saber didn't flinch even as he was forced to give ground. Instead of pressing the attack like she normally would, however, Mordred held back with a scowl. She'd give him credit for that, alright.
"I see that you are a fine warrior, if a bit crude at times. It was a shame that I never got to cross swords with you in the Greater Holy Grail War."
"Your copycat wasn't half-bad," Mordred retorted, and it was true. Sieg, while painfully naïve even by the standards of being a homunculus, had been a good person. With more training, he would have made for a fine knight if they had been in Camelot. He lasted far longer than she had expected in their sole battle against each other.
Still, they never did settle the matter of who was the superior Saber, and probably never would. Furthermore, she never got to fight the proper Saber of Black. While his status as a 'fake' Servant meant that he was supposedly weaker here than at Trifas, he was certainly living up to her expectations.
It felt good to be in a duel to the death. Mordred knew that most people would think that she was crazy. Maybe she was. You couldn't be a Heroic Spirit and not be at least a little insane. Hell, there was an entire class of Servants fucking dedicated to insanity!
Her momentary distraction ended up costing her, as reality returned via the medium of the pommel of Balmung to her stomach. While it didn't pierce through her breastplate, the shock of the impact still traveled through the metal surrounding her body. The knight bent over slightly, spittle flying out of her lips as the air was knocked out of her lungs.
Not wanting to leave herself defenseless even as she recovered, Mordred lashed out blindly with Clarent. A half-second later, her stolen sword slammed against Balmung. "That was a dirty trick," Mordred growled, though she wasn't actually upset at it. Rather, she found herself impressed. Siegfried had struck her as one of those morally-uptight, fight only using your sword-type enemies.
"I believe you once told your former Master that 'who cares how you do it, so long as you win'?" The feral smirk dropped from her lips as her shoulder rose. She felt arcs of crimson electricity dancing over her body. The Knight of Rebellion growled again, this time angrily.
"Bastard!" She snarled, throwing herself forward. The usually-polite Saber smirked, and a fast-paced exchange of blows ensued once more. Both sides got in a number of blows, but they were at best glancing. Despite the minimum amount of armor on his body, somehow the silver-haired fucker was tanking the blows as well as her armor!
Recognizing that she was only going to wear herself out faster, Mordred once more disengaged, warily circling the opposing Servant.
"Damn it, you still have that bullshit defense thing, huh?" Mordred hissed under her helmet. She prepared to throw herself into the fray once more when she heard Jacob's voice calling out to her.
"Mordred! Stab him in the small of his back!" The shout caused Mordred to raise an eyebrow under Secret of Pedigree, even though she knew Jacob couldn't see it.
"Not to be rude, Master, but just what the hell are you talking about?"
"After slaying Fafnir, Siegfried was drenched in the blood of the evil dragon. Everywhere the blood touched was made nigh-indestructible in life. Everywhere, save for a stray leaf that covered a section of his back." Mordred's eyes widened in feral excitement.
"So then, if I can hit him there—"
"It will be enough to critically damage his Saint Graph," Jacob finished. Feeling revitalized by the information, the Knight of Rebellion crouched down. As if to provide further evidence supporting the words of her princess, Siegfried's face warped into a scowl.
"As if you'll get the chance!" He stood upright, twisting the handle of his sword. "Arise, my sword," he said, and a column of blue light Mordred's eyes widened momentarily, before narrowing back into slits. So, the Counterfeit Saber was going to unleash his Noble Phantasm, then.
Mordred's mind kicked into overdrive. This wasn't the first time she'd seen Siegfried's Noble Phantasm. Hell, she'd even been the recipient of it during her duel with Sieg. She could cancel out Balmung with Clarent Blood Arthur easily. It would sting as all hell, but she'd live.
Or at least, that is what the plan would have been, were it not for the close proximity of her partner and the other Servants. Last time it hadn't been an issue, as Kairi had withdrawn from the battlefield, but when Balmung and Clarent Blood Arthur had hit one another, a miniature nuclear bomb had gone off.
This time, her Master, Jacob, was way too close for comfort. To make matters worse, neither Jeanne nor Mash were here with those protective Noble Phantasms of theirs. Blast!
Cursing under her breath, the blonde Knight of Rebellion wracked her brain for another option. Wait.
That weak spot on his back…
As far as she was able to tell, the Saber's Noble Phantasm required him to be stationary when he unleashed it. If she timed it right, Mordred could attack that vulnerable spot that Jacob had told her about. Either he would be fatally injured (which naturally would be the far preferable outcome) or at the very least, forced to break shut down his Noble Phantasm.
It was risky, but hell, since when did that really matter?
Still, it was difficult to stand still for the next few seconds. Some small pebbles that had been kicked up by the vertical backdraft bounced off of her armor, and her hands curled even tighter around the hilt of Clarent.
Her instincts screamed at her to either attack right now, or to utilize her own Noble Phantasm, but she waited.
Finally, after what felt like almost an eternity but was only seconds in reality, Mordred sensed that Siegfried had finished powering up his Noble Phantasm. Without saying a word, Mordred activated her Mana Burst ability once more, darting forward like lightning.
To her grim satisfaction, she was able to witness Siegfried's eyes widening in shock at her attack. The bastard must have been expecting her to utilize her own Noble Phantasm. Ha, fool on him. It might have worked, were it not for the fact that she had someone she swore to protect. Someone who depended on her.
"Too slow, Siegfried!" Mordred roared tauntingly as she twisted her body to the side. The former Saber of Black stopped preparing his Noble Phantasm, trying to turn around and keep his front to her, but he was moving just a fraction to slow compared to her.
Scanning his back, she aimed Clarent at supposed weak point. Shen then surged forward, ready to thrust forth with Clarent and strike down her enemy.
"I've got you, Saber of Black!" Mordred howled victoriously, stabbing Clarent with all her might into the small of Siegfried's back. She felt a slight jolt of some sort, though it didn't affect her body, and she felt the grimly satisfying sensation of her stolen sword piercing through flesh, muscle, and bone.
With a disgusting squelching sound, Mordred felt the tip of Clarent burst out of the front of Siegfried's torso, along with another, stronger jolting sensation of her sword burying itself into the earth. A pain moan slipped past Siegfried's lips. Even when badly injured, it seems that little could break that stoic visage of his.
Just like Fa—
Mordred shook her head violently, chasing away the thought. Growling under her breath, the knight yanked Clarent back out of her opponent and leapt back a few yards, adopting her standard fighting stance.
It proved an unnecessary move.
Balmung was thrusted into the earth as a small pool of blood began to form. More blood trickled down the long blade of the fabled sword as its grievously-injured own leaned against it for support.
"Damn it. It seems I tried to be bold, but I failed her in both accounts," Siegfried sighed mournfully, looking towards the west. "Follow the riverbank to the west. It's a half-day's journey, but you'll come across a building. Inside is my mistress."
"Well, that's nice and all," Mordred said, dismissing Secret of Pedigree. The cool air felt good on her sweat-covered forehead. The fight took quite a bit out of her. Nothing a good night's rest couldn't handle, but still. "But why don't you tell us her damn name?" To her irritation, the fading Saber merely smirked.
"You'll see," he said teasingly, before his face relaxed. "Well, that's it for me. Good luck." And with that, Siegfried finished dissolving, returning once more to the Throne of Heroes. Well, at least this time the fight had a satisfying ending. Better yet, against the actual Siegfried…well, kinda. Stupid technicalities!
Shaking off her internal grumbling, Mordred turned back to Jacob with an expectant smile on her lips, eager for him to once more praise her skills as a warrior.
"Fight's over, Master."
"Fight's over, Master." I smiled slightly, unable to help myself. As honestly expected, Mordred had come out the victor. Better yet, I didn't haver to deal with any of her ire by using one of my Command Seals. I had been preparing to use one to reinforce Mordred right before her final attack, but before I could start the activation process for it, Mordred had run Clarent through Siegfried.
My legs felt a bit shaky. It wasn't just from Mordred putting herself at risk, either. I had felt the raw power that was being channeled with Siegfried's Noble Phantasm. Naturally, it quickly led to unintentionally imagining what would happen to my body if it were caught either in the direct blast or a secondary explosion.
I was proud once more at her resourceful thinking, and quite impressed with her intuition. I'd have never considered using that last tactic of hers. Speaking of, I hadn't failed to notice the expectant look in those beautiful green eyes of hers as she grinned at me.
"Well done as always Mordred. I'm particularly impressed with that last attack. I'd never have considered it. At least, I wouldn't have considered it in the amount of time I had available." Mordred's chest puffed out and she smirked in the way that only Mordred could manage. Maturing or not, it was very endearing to see that she still liked to have her ego stoked. "I saw that he got a few hits on you. How bad's the damage?"
Mordred's smirk only grew. "Nah, nothing too serious. A cracked rib or three, and a number of bruises. He didn't penetrate my armor. I'll be right as rain come morning." I nodded, and I finished full relaxing my body.
Mordred's response, however, raised a question of its own.
"So, what do you want to do, Jacob?" Da Vinci asked. I looked around the area once more, still expecting for some sort of ambush. All I saw were trees and bushes. No stone golems lumbering towards us. No homunculi creeping forward. No enemy Servants waiting for us to turn their backs.
A part of me wanted for us to continue our forward momentum. I felt that we were so close to finally discovering our mysterious counterfeiter. However, a quick look at my device showed me that it was only forty-five minutes until midnight.
In a further display of undignified mutiny, my stomach chose that very moment to let out a low growl of hunger. Boudica smiled in a motherly manner while my romantic partner tried (and miserably failed) to stifle a snicker of amusement at my expense. I cleared my throat, swiftly regaining my composure.
"As much as I would like to push on for the night, it's better if we get some sleep. Fortunately, it looks like we won't have to sleep in the open. Da Vinci, mind checking out the warehouse to see if there are any traps inside?"
"Sure!" Da Vinci said with her typical energy, before practically bouncing into wooden building. We waited patiently for a few minutes before the Caster said that it was safe to enter. Only a bunch of rolled-up counterfeit paintings.
Naturally, it was less than a second before the painter called back out again regarding them.
"Lu Bu, help me chuck these fake masterpieces into the river!" I sighed as the Servant in question turned to look at me with what I presumed was a questioning look in his eyes.
"Might as well help her out, Lu Bu. Last thing we need is for Da Vinci to develop some form of pyromania. I don't know about you, but I'd like to have a roof over our heads tonight. Particularly a roof that isn't charred and likely to collapse on us," I said wearily.
Lu Bu grunted and crossed his arms over his broad chest before heading in the direction of the occasional pain-in-the-ass named Leonardo Da Vinci. Having overheard my remarks, Boudica and Emiya quickly followed suit, equally desiring to have a solid roof over our heads tonight.
"I'll watch the perimeter," Sasaki said, and I nodded at the taciturn Assassin as he headed off a few dozen yards or so, his sword drawn and at the ready.
That left me and Mordred alone by the riverbank. Breathing in deeply, I held my breath for a minute or two before exhaling softly. I then proceed to sit down near the water's edge. Mordred quickly followed suit.
"I know that look, Jacob. Something's troubling you," my knight observed, and I shook my head.
"Can't hide anything from you these days, can I?" I asked with a wry smile. Mordred smirked proudly.
"Well, you can try if you want. Didn't deny it, though. Come on, tell me."
"Alright, alright. Its about my dream last night."
"Something from my past?" Mordred asked, her mirth quickly leaving her. I quickly shook my head, and she relaxed in relief.
"No, though it was about as pleasant as some of them. I dreamt that I was Jeanne the day that she was burnt at the stake." Mordred winced sympathetically. Yet another side of her that only a select few ever got to see. A privilege I was proud of. "What's bothering me the most, however, was how it ended."
"What do you mean?"
"Something went through my mind. Kind of like when I hear your thoughts in past memories. It was about how she hated everyone watching."
"Well, not exactly an unreasonable thing for someone to think when they're being publicly executed," Mordred pointed out. I nodded slowly, a small frown on my lips.
"Yes, except for it being Jeanne herself. She's admitted that she holds no anger to the English and anyone else involved in her death. We both know she's about as good as lying as Jing Ke staying sober in her time off." I smiled softly at Mordred's bark of dry amusement.
"So then, what does that mean?" Mordred asked, and my smile fell.
"It means that I don't know enough yet. In the morning, I'm going to go through what we've learnt so far about our mysterious counterfeit. See if I can come up with some possible identities."
"You think she's connected with your dream?" Mordred asked, titling her head to the side in a display of child-like curiosity. I nodded slowly.
"Considering I've had yet to experience a similar occurrence with any of the various other Servant dreams I've dealt with, I find it highly likely. Don't worry, Mordred," I added, noticing her frown. "I have a feeling that we'll get our answers tomorrow. In the meantime, let's get some food cooking and then grab some sleep."
Original Endnotes: And done! What did y'all think? We finally got two see a version of what might-have-been in Fate/Apocrypha, though maybe not as epic as the original writers would have made it if Siegfried hadn't nobly sacrificed himself for Sieg. I also kept up with his lore, so I hoped that made the fight interesting. Also, Da Vinci should start considering becoming a copyright lawyer, shouldn't she?
We're approaching the final three/four chapters of Pseudo-Singularity C. I've learnt a bit about how difficult at times writing events in might be, so good thing I did it sooner rather than later. I plan on doing something similar, albeit on a grander scale. I'm also removing the scene with Arash and Arjuna, mainly because it would cause me more headaches than I would like. It's a great and fun scene, so I'm sad to leave it out, but that's how it is sometimes. Also, enjoying the brief arc so far?
Now, for the question(s) of the chapter! First up, what's the strangest Fate pairing(s) that you've encountered? Secondly, what's your kind of bird? I know, random question, but figured I'd swap it up a bit :P
As always, thanks for the love and support, and I'm glad you took your time to read the story up to this point. Please feel free to leave your thoughts and comments as always, and I can't wait to read them! I hope you enjoyed the chapter, and I'll see you in four days in Chapter 93! Have a wonderful time until then!
Updated Endnotes 08/26/22: As always, the full, up-to-date version of The Will to Fight can be found on Ao3 if you want to skip the wait. Otherwise, I hope you enjoyed the chapter, and I'll see you in a few days in Chapter 93,