I stared at the entrance of the building. "Well, at least it's not another castle," I quipped, thinking of the citadel in Orléans or Romulus's palace in the heart of the United Empire. Seriously, sometimes the setting of the final or penultimate battle thus far could be in very cliché when you think about it.
"Indeed," Da Vinci said, stroking her chin as she hummed thoughtfully to herself. "It looks like a replica of the Louvre."
"The French art museum?" Boudica asked, and the Caster nodded.
"Indeed. Considered to be one of the modern world's centers of art, along with places such as the Rijksmuseum or the Metropolitan Museum of Art. The Louvre is the largest art museum in the world."
"It's also the location of the actual Mona Lisa," I added, before titling my head to the side. "Aren't there a number of your other works on display there?" Da Vinci nodded, resting her hands on her hips and jutting her chest out proudly.
"Correct! It's only natural that the world's largest institution dedicated to objects of beauty to have some of my work!"
"Thank god it's none of her ego, though," Mordred mumbled, and I had to bite back a snort of amusement. At times, the Caster made Nero look absolutely humble and modest. Not that the Roman Saber couldn't be either of those at times, mind you, but it still served as an excellent comparison in my opinion.
We then entered. Just as it had been in the town two days ago, the massive-looking building was devoid of either visitors or staff members. It was still unsettling, but nowhere near the level that it had been back then. In a way, it honestly made solving Pseudo-Singularity C far easier. For one thing, I highly doubt that the staff here would have allowed a knight in full armor inside, especially with an actual sword.
Our footsteps echoed quietly in the empty hallways. Fortunately, there was some appealing scenery we could gaze at. Rows of paintings stretched on as far as the eye can see. Da Vinci wasn't kidding about the reputation of the museum! I wasn't the only one impressed by the art gallery.
"It's beautiful," Boudica remarked, looking at yet another painting in awe.
"Fascinating to see the imaginations of artists from both France and across the world," Sasaki added calmly. "It feels relaxing."
"Mash would love it here. Jeanne and Marie too," I grunted softly. Mordred however made a bored, dismissive noise in the back of her throat. Perhaps unsurprisingly, the energetic knight didn't seem particularly enthralled by the various masterpieces.
Emiya cleared his throat rather loudly, and I turned to look at the stern-looking Archer. "While I'm sure it must feel nice to lord over the locations and whatnot of your works of art, please remember that this isn't the actual Louvre. Nothing that is on display here is authentic."
"Fair point. That means no committing acts of arson, Da Vinci," I said, fixing a stern glare at the quasi-arsonist in question. Da Vinci lowered the gloved hand upon which the built-in flamethrower she had oh-so-conveniently forgotten to mention sooner resided.
"What? Don't be so silly, Jacob!" She giggled unconvincingly.
"Riiiight," I drawled, shaking my head. "Still, you wouldn't be able to tell at a glance," I said, returning my attention to Emiya's earlier point. The crimson-wearing Archer nodded back.
"Correct. With that in mind, though, there is no reason that we shouldn't be able to still enjoy these well-made duplicates and appreciate the efforts that this mysterious female counterfeiter put into them."
"Agreed. Even better, we didn't have to pay for passports or plane tickets to get here." My attempt at humor fell flat, and I coughed sheepishly, quickly changing the topic. "Honestly, I'm looking forward at finally meeting our culprit."
"I agree," Da Vinci said, and I almost stumbled forward. Some of the other Servants accompanying me had similar kinds of reactions. "What's with that reaction?" Da Vinci almost shouted in indignation. "I want to find out why she's so driven to surpass all of these artists, and not just myself. Don't tell me that isn't a reasonable desire!"
"It's not," I started to say, before Mordred cut me off with a flat expression on her face.
"It's just that normally, someone who said that isn't one that went around torching almost every last copy of their efforts."
"Hmph, don't make me sound so dramatic now," Da Vinci said, crossing her arms and looking away from me. I rolled my eyes.
"Still, it's odd," Emiya suddenly spoke up, and I cocked my head to the side as I looked at the Archer.
"What's that?"
"We're in the heart of the enemy's lair, and yet we are proceeding unhindered. I highly doubt that Siegfried was the last of the Counterfeit Heroic Spirits to have been summoned."
"You've got a point. Let's stop for a moment. I'll contact Doctor Roman and ask him to do a quick scan of the building. At the very least, it'll save us some time for locating our mysterious counterfeiter," I replied, bowing my head in a silent thanks to the no-nonsense Servant before raising my wrist and activating the commlink.
Roman didn't answer immediately, which had me arching one of my eyebrows in concern. Either we were having another infamous case of jammed communications, like it had been for an ungodly period during the previous deployment, or the good doctor was focused on something else. Most likely Ritsuka's team.
I wasn't sure which possibility was the one I would prefer it be.
After a minute or two, the acting-director of Chaldea finally answered my call.
"What's up? I don't have much time to talk. Ritsuka and Mash and the others are about to start the final confrontation," answered a haggard-sounding Doctor Roman. I started to reply when Da Vinci grabbed my wrist without warning and pulled it towards her. I barely managed to maintain my balance, though the Caster didn't seem too concerned about that.
"Well, Romani, are there any Servants other than us?" Da Vinci asked swiftly.
"Give me one moment," Roman responded rather tersely. I frowned slightly. While I understood how stressful the last few fights in a full-on singularity could be, but I was starting to feel that the situation my fellow Master faced was something else entirely. Well, he had Jeanne and Mash to help him out, along with Artoria and the others.
"Okay, scan complete," Doctor Roman said suddenly, breaking me out of my thoughts. I leaned closer to my commlink, focusing on the doc's words. "There are three Servant signatures. One is up ahead, guarding the main entrance to the storage facility at the back of the building. The other two are close to one another inside said area." Roman paused a beat, and then resumed speaking, faster this time. "I got to go. Mash is hailing me. Be careful you guys. There's probably some lesser enemies up ahead."
Without waiting for a response, Roman ended the call. My earlier frown returned in full force. Just what the hell was Ritsuka going up against? I sighed, shaking my head. Worrying about him right now when I couldn't do anything was useless. I looked at the others.
"Well, you heard the doctor. Let's take them down." Barely had the words escaped my lips than a familiar clattering sound accompanied by multiple pairs of footsteps could be heard. Ah, of course. It wouldn't be a typical deployment while working for Chaldea without running into some damned skeleton warriors, after all.
I sighed wearily and shook my head. "Looks like we'll be facing at least one Caster class Servant, then. Especially since there's been a noticeable lack of people or signs of mass violence."
"Hey, at least it's a half-decent warm-up," Mordred retorted, eager as always for a good brawl. I shook my head in mock exasperation. When we got back, I'm probably going to be in for some more spars with her for the next few days.
Before either of us could exchange any more of our playful banter (Rits once called it flirting when he had observed one of our spars), roughly two dozen skeletons came into view. In addition, three of the rarer Dragon Tooth Warriors were also present, leading the vanguard. Further proof of the presence of one of more Casters.
I unsheathed my sword and dagger, taking up a fighting stance. "Standard routine, folks. Let's make this quick!"
And quick work we made of the low-level mooks. The fight was over in minutes, possibly even less. Soon, only scattered and broken bones and a few rusted weapons were left of the 'welcoming party' that had been sent against us. I sheathed both of my weapons.
"Good work, everyone. Keep your guard up, though. This was probably the easiest part of the day."
"Like you even had to say that," Da Vinci said, clearly more than a little bit impatient. "Enough with the standing around and talking. Let's go!"
As we progressed further into the fake Louvre, a sense of unease started to enter my body. With each step, it grew stronger and stronger, as if trying to morph into dread. I fought mercilessly to keep it from overwhelming me.
I soon realized that the source of it wasn't natural, but rather a result of someone else.
"Ugh, such an aura of sheer malice," Emiya said with a disgusted grimace. The other Servants were similarly affected, even the near-constantly composed Sasaki. "And I fought Berserker had an intense presence to him."
"Just our luck," Mordred grumbled, and I turned to her. "I can't believe we have to deal with that bastard of a Caster again!"
I cursed under my breath as a familiar (and very unwelcomed) voice called out from up ahead.
"Oh, what's this? The snake and her toy?" A robed Gilles de Rais asked tauntingly, his goofy-looking eyes brimming with hatred even as they seemed to stare off in different directions. My body tensed up and I glared murderously at the psychotic Caster.
"What did you call her?"
"The fuck did you call my Master?" Mordred roared at the same time as I spat out my own question. Gilles merely threw his head back and cackled madly.
"Oh dear, did I strike a nerve? My apologies," the insane Servant said insincerely. The fallen nobleman, when summoned in his Caster class, was one of the two peoples I currently despised more than anyone else in the world, the other being Lev Lainur. I had hoped that I would never encounter the serial killer ever again.
Jeanne might be able to, but I couldn't, wouldn't, forgive the fish-eyed lunatic for what he did to everyone back in the First Singularity. At that moment, I desired nothing more than to order Mordred to rip the Servant to pieces. Still, my mantra of 'the mission always comes first broke' through the haze of hatred, and I managed to get a grip on my anger.
"I see, so you are one of her Counterfeit Heroic Spirits, huh?" As if with a flick of the switch, the jeering expression on Gilles's face transformed into one of pure joy, sending shivers down my spine. Something I could have lived my whole life without seeing.
"Indeed, indeed, indeed! I am Gilles de Rais, 'a sad father who was loved by his daughter when she was kid, but who is now hated by her since she became a rebellious teenager!' I am Gilles de Rais, who gets shooed away with comments like, 'Dad, you smell like an old person.'" I blinked slowly at that, taking a moment to re-process the verbal clusterfuck Gilles had babbled about.
First of all, who in their right mind would want Gilles as a member of their family in this form, let alone their father?! Secondly, did he have to sound so proud and so solemn even at the blatant (if childish) insults? I shook my head.
"That's something I'd need to wrap my head around in the company of vodka."
"Sake is better," Sasaki said absent-mindedly. The look on the Assassin's face suggested to me that he was carving a bottle or four of the rice wine himself. Boudica reached out and patted his shoulder sympathetically.
"Well, that sounds…tragic," I said, managing to mask the sarcasm in my voice. The enemy Servant tilted his head forward respectfully, apparently missing the lack of sincerity in my own response.
"Thank you, sympathetic pet! Oh, if only my daughter had your kindness! But so it goes. This is also fate…" The Caster sighed, shaking his head as one hand covered in red- pulsating veins reached into his oversized robes. "If this is the stage that my child envisioned, I must resign myself to that fact."
"…I don't think she had any intention of sharing that information with others," Emiya said softly. Then he spoke louder. "Regardless, enough. Gilles de Rais, we have nothing to ask of you."
"Nor would we have wanted to," Da Vinci muttered.
"If you stand in our way, we'll cut you down," I said, taking over for my Archer. Once more Gilles's face changed expression violently, his pale, grayish face warping into one of pure fury as he whipped out his spell book.
"Oh, is that right?"
"Yes. We defeated you before, and we have only gotten stronger and better."
"Trust me, it would be a pleasure to cut you in half again," Mordred snarled, Clarent clutched tightly in her hands. Gilles laughed scornfully, his body shaking, though whether from some sense of perverted humor or from rage, I couldn't ascertain. I was about to start issuing commands in preparation for the imminent engagement, when Gilles suddenly held up his empty hand.
"I see! Hoooooowever! Finally, I have a question of my own for you, pet Master. Why are you interfering with us?! If the counterfeits of Leonardo Da Vinci are the cause of the problem, we surviving counterfeits will persuade my child to forge those works of others. I beseech you! Please don't interfere with us!"
"The actions of your 'daughter' are causing problems. She's already created a pseudo-singularity. One that's now threatening to develop into a true singularity. Furthermore, I want to meet her," I added, surprising Gilles and most of my Servants present. Da Vinci spoke up next, though.
"Jacob's right. I too wish to meet her. And we must put an end to her actions, too. To go into apparent bouts of fury, despair, and contempt by merely imagining other's motives. That is something I cannot approve, regardless of whether my own creations are involved or not."
"Agreed. Whatever the purpose of your Master is, Marshal Gilles de Rias, she still will oppose us. No matter how touching her wish is, we still have to defeat her before we can try to reason with her. Therefore, we must indeed fight."
The hopeful expression Gilles had adopted during his earlier died an ugly death. For the first time since he announced his presence, a serious expression appeared. His madness temporary abating. That, more than his presence, unsettled me greatly.
"I see," the French Caster said in a dangerously quiet voice. "In that case, I shall be your latest, and final, opponent. For that child's dreams and wishes." His lips peeled back into a grimacing snarl, flipping open his tome of dark knowledge. "Let the counterfeits suppress their originals! Let Falsity overpower truth! Even if we're branded as spurious, false, or specious, we still exist now, in this place!"
"Boudica, Sasaki, take him down!"
The Rider and Assassin both nodded, brandishing their swords, as well as a shield in Boudica's case. Gilles responded with an angrily, guttural shout that was unintelligible to me. His wiry frame trembling still in self-righteous anger, the Caster began chanting in a demonic-sounding language, and I could feel his channeling of magical energy.
It lacked the ancient feeling to it that accompanied Medea's magic. Nor did it carry the sense of refinement of Mozart's, or the creativity and energy of Da Vinci's. This one felt raw, evil. Untamed.
"Take this, insects!" Gilles cackled, unleashing a swirling purple mass of chaotically-writhing energy. Before I could even open my mouth, Boudica barked out orders for Sasaki to get behind her. Without a word, the Japanese swordsman skidded to a halt as Boudica threw herself in front of him. The former queen raised her shield and crouched down slightly, bracing herself for the imminent impact.
A violent backlash of wind buffeted my face as Gilles's attack impacted against the leather-covered wooden shield. Boudica grunted slightly, but otherwise was unaffected by the attack. With another grunt, she and Sasaki began to advance, the Rider suing her more defensive-oriented equipment to protect the more offensive-oriented Assassin.
Gilles snarled angrily, casting more magical attacks that Boudica tanked. The issue with where we were fighting was that the hallway didn't allow much room to maneuver. While Boudica and Sasaki could no doubt easily dodge Gilles's attacks, Mordred, Emiya, Da Vinci, Lu Bu, and I would still have to worry about dodging them. The kind-hearted Rider clearly refused to let that possibility manifest in reality so long as there was strength still in her limbs.
"Die, die, die!" Gilles howled, spittle flying past his lips angrily. Already in a weaker state due to his status as a counterfeit, his attacks became even weaker as they became more scattered in his rage-induced state. About half of his attacks were now hitting only the walls on either side of the two Servants.
Then, they were close enough that Sasaki could close the gap between them in a blink of an eye. Something that he did without a moment's hesitation.
Shrk!
With a simple but elegant thrust, Sasaki rammed his sword into Gilles's dark heart, only stopping three-quarters of the way to the hilt. My skin crawled slightly at the sound of flesh being pierced by enhanced steel, but I didn't look away as Sasaki fatally injured Gilles de Rais. With a simple flick of the wrist, the samurai withdrew his blade and leapt backwards along with Boudica. The two Servants get up their guard, as did Mordred, Emiya, Lu Bu, and Da Vinci, in case the enemy Caster tried any last desperate attacks from a clearly mortal wound.
Like his three predecessors, however, it seemed the moment the fatal blow had been struck, their will to fight ceased. Gilles's book adorned with a screaming face on its cover fell from numb fingers, dissolving into golden dust before it could hit the now blood-stained ground.
"Heh…it seems you were right. At least I won't be leaving her alone. She is not a lonely girl who had faith foisted on her and was forced into seclusion. She is not the warrior who continues forward, holding her banner aloft even while bearing wounds that'll never heal. She is not a moralizing saint. No miracle will happen, no revelation," Gilles said sadly, even as his voice was filled with pride. The dying Caster limped over to the undamaged section of wall closest to him. As he started to fade, he glared challengingly at us. "Even though the child is just a counterfeit…she's trying to spread her wings out in the world as an individual!"
I said nothing, mulling over what the crazed Caster had said in these final moments of lucidity. His body almost completely transparent by this point. He sighed mournfully and closed his eyes for the last time. "I dream of the eventual day when we shall meet again somewhere far away, my daughter. Farewell…"
"Farewell and good riddance," Mordred spat. "Pity it wasn't my blade again, but not bad, Sasaki." The Assassin bowed his head in silent appreciation of the rare compliment from the Saber. I hide my smile. She really has been growing as a person by leaps and bounds.
"Then all that's left are our counterfeit and one other," Emiya remarked evenly. "Two foes whose identities are unknown."
"…Are they, though?" I asked quietly.
"Jacob? What are you talking about?" Mordred inquired. The others were all looking at me now. I didn't immediately reply, instead re-running the evidence through my mind.
I had suspected the identity of our quarry after talking with Mordred about my dream the other night, and after taking some more time to think on it. That wasn't the only clue, however. The paintbrush I had on me that smelt of ash and hay.
Siegfried's comments about the counterfeit's love of dragons.
The lack of a self-identity of sorts.
Alone, these were meaningless. Even when combined, unless you had met her in person, you wouldn't think of her, harsh as it sounds. However, the final, most damning piece of evidence was Gilles de Rais, Caster, himself.
So far as I know, there was only one person that could inspire such utter devotion and…love…in the Caster version of Gilles. Or perhaps, more accurately, I should say that there were two. Someone we had encountered back in Orléans. By all accounts, she shouldn't be summonable without using a Grail Wish, and this time, Gilles had been the summoned Servant.
However, if one removed all possible variables, whatever was left was the answer, no matter how impossible it might seem. I looked at Mordred and the others, taking in a deep breath.
"I think I know who our counterfeiter is."
"Well, don't keep us in a state of damn suspense anymore," Mordred said irritably. "Give us the bloody name." I nodded apologetically at my knight, taking in a deep breath.
"The counterfeiter we are chasing is Jeanne d'Arc Alter."
There was a long moment of silence, as my Servants and Da Vinci stared at me, wide-eyed. Then, as if in unison, the six Heroic Spirits accompanying me cried out a single word.
"What?"
"Master, are you really suggesting that we're dealing with that Dragon Witch bitch again?" Mordred demanded furiously. I suppressed my sigh. Her protective side once more was flaring up.
"I think what Mordred is trying to say is, how are you sure?" Emiya said more diplomatically than my partner. I held up a hand and began lowering each finger as I listed my pieces of evidence.
"First of all, the idea of surpassing the original. Jeanne Alter was Gilles's fantasy of what Jeanne should be post-trial. As Mordred and Sasaki can attest, in our encounters with her in Orléans, Alter was fixated on crushing Jeanne, both spiritually and physically. Secondly, the paintbrush smelling of ash and hay from that cave. Jeanne has a faint hint of hay to her scent. Naturally, as a version of Jeanne, Alter would also have that scent. However, since she had a specialty in fire, I suspect that would have also been a factor. Third, Siegfried's comments about dragons. Alter's title of Dragon Witch is very self-explanatory here. Fourth, Gilles was present and speaking of someone in terms of utter adoration. Tell me, who else other than Jeanne would that fish-eyed monster be obsessed over?" paused, taking a moment to breath while I genuinely waited to see if anyone had a counter-answer to that.
For better or worse, no one had a response. I nodded grimly. "That ties in directly to my last point. If it's not Jeanne who is doing this, it has to be her alter."
"But I thought the bitch wasn't a real Servant?"
I shrugged. "I don't know. Remember, I could be wrong, but from my viewpoint, this seems to be the most logical outcome, even if it strains that word here. It's why I want to find out what's been going on. Is she now a Servant just like Jeanne, and if so, what class would Alter be? Still a Ruler, or a Berserker?"
"Ah, the joys of a restless and inquisitive mind," Da Vinci said, while Mordred rolled her eyes at me, no doubt thinking me a little insane now. Maybe I was, but after all this, I wanted to know the answers.
I had to. I took a deep breath, and nudged Mordred gently. She sighed, shaking her head before smirking at me while shrugging her shoulders.
"You're crazy, Jacob. Good thing I'm a bit crazy, too."
"Come on, let's push on. We're almost finished, and I can't wait to hear the mess Rits has been dealing with."
Orginal Endnotes: And done! Sorry if it felt a little too fast-paced, but I didn't want to drag it out unnecessarily. Well, that, and I want to finally introduce Jalter! For those of you who haven't read the SummerFes story of mine that's canon to The Will to Fight (and currently on hiatus), Jacob will be referring to her as either Jeanne Alter or just Alter. There's a reason why, and her nickname of Jalter will come up eventually. There was a line of dialogue during the SummerFes event last year revolving around that, so I plan on expanding upon the story about it here once Jalter's been summoned to Chaldea.
So who's excited to see Jalter in her Avenger form? Next chapter, I'll be combining parts of the last two sections of the event, and the fight with Brynhild will be more of the background. Mainly because I want there to be some Mordred, Jalter, and Jacob interactions, as you will see. In other exciting news, I'll finally be posting the Jeanne short story I've been working on and off, so keep an eye out for that! :)
Now, for the question(s) of the chapter! First up: what do you think of the Lostbelts storyline versus the seven original singularities? Second question: what's your longest login streak on FGO?
As always, thanks for reading, and more importantly for giving it a try! Feel free to leave any thoughts and comments down below, and I look forward to reading them. I hope you enjoyed the chapter, and I hope you have a wonderful weekend! See you next time!
Updated Endnotes 08/27/22: As always, you can find the updated version of The Will to Fight on Ao3 if you want to skip the wait. I hope you enjoyed the update, and see you next time!