FATE/NOVUS ORDO SECLORUM

"New Order of the Ages"

Chapter 4: Wills of Fire and Steel

In southern Ohio, right near the border to Kentucky, Cuchulainn was on the prowl. Ever since the freak tornado that occurred two days ago, he had devoted all of his energy to searching the entirety of the state for any sign of Connla. He suspected that she was responsible for the storm, but the amount of mana needed to generate such a massive typhoon would definitely drain her energy, if not outright kill her. He didn't want to imagine that she was dead. He was doing all of this for her, so for her to not be around would ruin the whole point of this war.

The day after the storm ceased, Cuchulainn had reached the immediate vicinity and was quite disturbed by what he found. All plant life had been ripped from the ground, leaving behind barren rocks, mud, and valiant trees that had just barely survived the torrent. No buildings or manmade structures such as carriages or wagons remained. Not a soul was to be found either, regardless if they were ally or enemy. Even the birds had abandoned the area, so everything was dead silent.

What the hell…?

He sauntered over to a spot where he believed was the epicenter of the tornado. He kneeled there, planted his palm on the ground, and concentrated on conjuring his Runes to inspect for any magical residue in the air. He found plenty right here, and the Spirit Origin from which it originated definitely belonged to Connla.

Shit. Why did you do this?

Cuchulainn clenched his sharp teeth. As far as he knew, she had no reason to lash out like this. He couldn't deny her distant behavior before she ran away, but he never imagined she would be capable of a similar kind of destruction that he was spreading across the country. The thought of Connla going berserk and slaughtering everyone like what he was doing chilled him to the bones – she was too meek and sensitive to ever consider behaving like that, and he preferred for her to remain that way.

Unfortunate as it was for him, he wouldn't find anything else here. He had to abandon the area and look elsewhere for clues about his missing daughter's whereabouts. While he was canvassing the state, he came across Fionn who was also looking for the girl and his friend.

"Sir, not only has Miss Connla vanished, but now I cannot find Diarmuid either," Fionn reported. "Although I don't have any proof, I have a strong suspicion that they were thrown about by the storm. If that's true, who knows where they may have landed or if they're still alive."

"Is that all?" Cuchulainn growled. "What a mess this has become. Well, I don't care if Diarmuid has been vaporized or whatever. All I want is to confirm whether Connla is dead or alive. Even if you have to bring me her corpse, at least it'll be better than nothing."

"What about the conquest? Is Lady Medb going to be left in charge while we search?"

"Naturally. She lost a good number of soldiers thanks to that tornado, so she needs some time to generate more minions with the Grail. Fortunately, it seems Edison's hurting quite a bit from the losses as well. If you run into any rogue Servants along the way, kill them on the spot. I don't want to have to deal with more Heroic Spirits like that loudmouthed punk."

"I haven't forgotten that. Then, by your leave."

With that, Fionn left Cuchulainn alone and headed westward. The king concentrated his efforts southward, since he was sure there wouldn't be anything if he went north or east. He didn't encounter anything or anyone along the way, and he was starting to get impatient with the lack of clues. Having moved away from northern Ohio, all of the plant and wild life returned to normal.

That was when he felt it. There was a concealed presence meticulously watching his every move, stalking him down like a wolf would hunt a deer. He snarled, not appreciating that he, the ultimate hunter, was now being treated as the hunted.

"Who's there!?" he shouted and swung Gae Bolg at the tree he believed the presence was lurking behind. Whoever the figure was, they moved out of range so fast that he swore they were teleporting or something. All that remained was the thick tree trunk as it collapsed upon the grass with a creaking thud that resonated all across the land.

That wasn't an animal or a monster, Cuchulainn thought. Their aura was much stronger… A Servant?

This was the last thing he needed right now. He resigned himself to the idea that he was someone's prey and opted to eliminate this problem as soon as possible. He would soon show them that it was a huge mistake to pursue the Mad King of the Celts. He swung his lance, then dashed in the general direction he believed the mystery Servant had escaped.

With the cold ferocity he was known for, Karna initiated the battle with the three Servants by leaping high and slamming his massive black spear upon the ground they stood on. They were forced to jump aside in different directions, but Nightingale buckled down and returned to brawl with him using only her fists, legs and pistol. She wasn't known for her prowess in martial arts when she was alive, but since she materialized as a Berserker in this world, she was gifted with inhuman stamina and reflexes to help her combat those who would stand in her way of treating victims. The battle-hardened Karna could read her frenzied moves and parried her with elegant finesse before knocking her back with a powerful kick to her abdomen.

As Nightingale skidded across the grass, Geronimo threw a volley of long daggers at the divine Servant's back. Karna whirled around and swung his spear to deflect the blades, but he was wide open for Nightingale to leap above him and deliver a mighty drop kick upon the back of his neck.

"Mmph!" he grunted.

"I will eliminate all disease and suffering from this world!" she declared, delivering several punches that he had to concentrate on avoiding. "Any and all pathogens that stand in my way shall be sterilized with no prejudice! Prepare yourself for a thorough disinfection routine!"

"I think not," he coolly retorted and grabbed her fist, then used her own momentum to flip her across the ground violently. Before he could attempt to stab through her head, a volley of flaming stones viciously pelted him at breakneck speeds. He hopped back and noticed Ituha firing her slingshot. He couldn't help but be impressed by how rapidly she was reaching into her dress pockets, grabbing a handful of stones, reloading her weapon, firing away, and repeating this process without pause and with remarkable accuracy.

"A young one like you is not suitable for the field of battle," Karna told her. "Unfortunately, since you have struck me, I have no choice but to retaliate in turn."

He rushed toward her and swung his lance about. Ituha ran away from him while ducking and weaving around his strikes in a panic.

"YAH!" Geronimo screamed and intercepted Karna with his dagger, allowing Ituha to stumble out of range to safety. Nightingale joined him in keeping Karna away from the child Servant, but his strength overwhelmed their combined might and he swept them back with a powerful swing. Ituha watched them struggle and started to grow fearful for their lives. She took deep gasps of air to compose herself, but she understood that, even when the unlikely heroes were working together in unison, they were still severely outmatched by this one legendary Servant.

Ms. Nightingale said that all we have to do is send him flying away. I wish my magic was strong enough to do it, but…

Suddenly, her hands were surrounded by a pair of identical red magic circles that bore the symbol of an intricate icovellavna in the center and Celtic Runes on the borders. She felt a surge of power rush through her chest, arms, and hands that emerged as bright flames burning upon her palms. The fire didn't harm her skin, but she was totally stupefied by how she accomplished this.

Karna looked over at her and murmured, "Hoh? Those markings…"

"I thought so! She's a Celt!" Geronimo exclaimed.

The searing energy grew stronger with each second, and Ituha felt like she couldn't contain it any longer. Words formed in her mind, and she called out a peculiar phrase at the top of her lungs:

"Coinneal Léimneach!" †

The flame in her hands intensified and launched a stream of raw fire straight for Karna. He winced and brought his lance forth to shield himself from the flaming onslaught. He was engulfed in the firestorm, but since he was the Son of the Sun and could call forth the power of flames himself, he wouldn't suffer any serious damage from this surprise attack. He couldn't prevent himself from being pushed high into the air however, and he flipped backwards several times to regain his momentum.

Geronimo gasped and asked Ituha, "Was that your Noble Phantasm!?"

"I don't know!" she panicked. "I was getting scared, and then my hands started burning!"

"Never mind that!" Nightingale shouted. "This is our chance! Run, while he's out of commission!"

"Let's go!" the Native American took the confused child's hand and made her run alongside him back into the forest.

Karna fell upon the fortress and landed on the top of one of the watch towers. As he watched the trio of unlikely allies flee for their lives from his wrath, Karna murmured to himself, "This is all I can do, Edison. The hands of time have begun moving forward… No, it seems they started advancing well before any of us realized it. Ever since the day of that storm, things have begun to change."

He couldn't help but think about Ituha, and how he tried to analyze her identity and abilities during the battle. Although she wasn't particularly a threat to him, he sensed something amiss about her magic.

I felt her power before… Yes, I remember now. Somewhere in the eye of that terrible hurricane was a Servant's aura. I did not recognize it then just as much as I failed to ascertain the child's true nature now, yet her spells have the same quality as the tornado that devastated both sides just recently. Perhaps not in intensity, but it is without a doubt identical.

Karna remained silent, pondering what his hypothesis could mean.

Was she the source of that indiscriminate force of destruction? For what purpose would she do such a thing? Is she really an ally to anyone at all, or is she too an enemy to the world like Cuchulainn is?

His mouth closed into a thin line.

Much uncertainty looms in the air. How soon shall it be before absolute chaos plunges this world into oblivion? Are we prepared enough to face it as we are?

The three Servants, who just barely escaped with their lives, hurried through the thick forest as far as they could before exhaustion wore them down. They had to stop and take a breather for a short while. It was already approaching midnight by the time they rested, so it was difficult for Nightingale and Ituha to know where they were going. Geronimo was extremely familiar with the area however, so he took the lead and guided his newfound comrades.

"Looks like we're not being pursued," he said. "Once we reach town, we should be safe."

"Good," Nightingale said, "because I've got a lot of questions that need answering."

"I'm sure you would like to know the Resistance's current status, but I think it's prudent that you focus on healing the injured Servant first."

"I know that. First though, I want to know who this girl is."

The adults looked at Ituha, who was walking behind them in silence. Nightingale continued, "Is it true that she has amnesia?"

"That's what I understood," Geronimo explained. "She doesn't know her True Name or where she comes from. The only thing I know for certain now is that she's a Celtic Servant."

"And you brought such a patient with you on a dangerous mission!?"

"Ms. Nightingale, please don't say that," Ituha assured. "I already told you that I went with him willingly."

"Tch… That was quite careless of you. You should have waited for us in the forest."

"This coming from someone who tried to shoot her way through locked iron bars?"

"For someone who's lost her memories, you're quite the uppity one, aren't you?"

"Well… I mean…"

"Now, now," the Apache shaman stopped them. "What's done is done. We have successfully retrieved you from Edison's forces. Now we must focus on the next step – curing this ailing Servant so that he may rally the troops for our ultimate counter-strike."

"Hmm," Nightingale hummed curiously. "Perhaps attending to this man's aid is precisely what I need if I am to combat the root cause of the plague that has infested this nation."

"Edison would never have supported such rash logic. Is that why you were imprisoned?"

"Right. I proposed that we excise the Celtic leaders posthaste, but he would not listen to me. I fear that his mind is likewise poisoned from something beyond his control. Or perhaps it is more accurate to say that he is 'possessed'."

"What do you mean by that?"

"I'm not sure. He didn't give me enough time to perform a thorough examination of his head. I can guarantee that he is ill and needs treatment though. A patient with such a mindset has no business running a country. It is unfortunate, but I must triage his care for a later date."

"How exactly did you plan on treating the root cause of this war, anyway?"

"How else? Charging into the White House and personally purifying the toxic invaders."

Geronimo and Ituha sighed, unanimously agreeing that Nightingale's plan was beyond absurd. The young Archer moaned, "I'm starting to think that Mr. Edison threw you in jail for your own safety…"

"Preposterous. That man cares for nothing except his own warped idea of 'rationality'," Nightingale protested. "If my services were not needed elsewhere, I would have confronted him immediately."

"Save that for later," Geronimo said. "We're almost there."

The trio emerged through the clearing and arrived at the edge of a deserted town. Humble wooden buildings such as a saloon, a couple of inns, a post station, a market, and some homes were left behind when the civilians retreated as far west as they could. The only ones who remained here were Resistance soldiers and some Servants who had joined the cause.

One such soldier halted Geronimo's group and exclaimed, "Welcome back, sir. I trust everything went well?"

"The mission was successful. Not only have I brought Ms. Nightingale with me, but I also have another Servant who wishes to join our cause."

"Hmm?" the man looked at Ituha, then started shaking fearfully. "Y-You're joking, right? That's impossible! We cannot accept her!"

"Why not?" Geronimo glared.

"Those clothes… There's no mistaking it – that girl is a Celt!"

She murmured, "A Celt…? You mean I'm one of the bad guys…?"

"What are you blathering about, lass? They're not just 'bad guys'! They're a force of complete and utter destruction! It would be foolish of us to let her in when she is clearly a spy for those barbarians!"

"You're wrong," Geronimo interrupted him with a calm yet firm tone. "She's not a Celt. That's a disguise she's wearing to fool the enemy."

"Oh… I-I see," the soldier uttered hesitantly. "My apologies, young lady."

Even though the shaman's timely smooth-talking calmed everyone down, Ituha still looked downhearted. She pressed her hands against her chest and moaned, "I forgot that Mr. Geronimo said the Celts were this nation's enemies. Maybe it would be better if I didn't come into town… I don't want to cause any unnecessary panic…"

"You're not staying outside," Nightingale rebuked. "It would be unforgivable for one of my patients to rest under such unsanitary conditions. If anyone tries to cast you out, I will excise them myself and force them to sleep under those harsh conditions themselves!"

"Um…"

"Don't worry, I'll take full responsibility for you. It's true that I've triaged your treatment to be less important than this other Servant's, but once I have successfully discharged him, I will see to it that I cure you of your amnesia. I don't care what memories I have to force out of you when the time comes – you will get them back! This I'm sure of!"

"Mm," Ituha nodded quietly.

Geronimo led the pair into the deserted town. They entered one of the small hotels and were guided by a soldier to one of the back rooms. Ituha hung back while the adults entered and surrounded the bed where a red-haired man was resting.

"Is he doing all right?" Geronimo asked.

"I can't say he's stable, but his stamina is incredible. Servants really are on a whole different level than us ordinary humans," the soldier said. "At the very least, he's still alive for the moment."

"So this is the Servant you have been sheltering," Nightingale said. "Since you have gone through such hardship to bring me to this man, I shall tend to him with my fullest ability."

"Please do," the Apache warrior implored. "Without your help, he would not have stood a chance."

They removed the blankets covering the wounded man, and they got a good look at his devastating injuries. Ituha had to suppress a disgusted yelp when she saw the gaping hole in his chest. What little remained of his heart beat visibly, but the palpitations were very weak and sporadic. Some kind of curse was turning his skin necrotic around the immediate puncture site, and the marks were slowly creeping around his torso and neck. The man's endurance was being put through the ultimate test as his body fought to keep the curse under control.

Nightingale examined the wound with a stoic expression, then said, "I've never seen a wound like this. Even so, I shall not turn away. Should you fall into Hell, I'll drag you back out."

"Heh… Sounds like something to look forward to… Ungh!" he groaned. Without much thought for how much pain he was in, she dug her fingers into the hole and started poking around. He shouted in a shrill tone, "Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow! What do you think you're doing!? Can't you see that my heart's been crushed!?"

"I'm shocked that you can stay conscious, never mind talk. Anyway, the first thing I must do is cut your heart out. Your blood circulation is poor, so I must excise all unnecessary parts to minimize the amount of blood you need in your system. This means the limbs and all organs except for your lungs must be removed!"

"Wait just a damn minute! Are you out of your mind!? How did you go from repairing my heart to turning me into an amputee!?"

"What's the problem? So long as you are alive, all else is of no concern to me."

"But I'll lose my ability to fight!"

"You are an individual who has taken root in this world. Your only concern should be surviving. Nay, not a concern, but a duty!"

"Easy for you to say! You're not the one with a giant hole in their chest!"

"Just relax. Come what may, I will heal you. That I promise!"

Ituha anxiously watched the exchange while clasping her hands together. She had to keep her nerves under control so she wouldn't pass out from seeing so much blood and gore. She forced herself to look away, instead focusing on the man's face as she asked, "So who might you be? I've seen some soldiers from this country, but you don't look like one."

"Oh, me?" he smirked. "I'm Rama, the king of Kosala."

"Kosala?"

"If you want to know more – OOWWWW! Ungh… R-Read the Ramayana! AHHHH! Son of a bitch! That hurts, dammit!"

Nightingale clenched her teeth and shouted, "This is so irritating! I'm healing as best as I can, but I cannot stop this encroaching death! The best I can do is slow it down! But I won't give up! So long as I draw air, I will keep trying! Damn, damn, damn! Who on Earth were you fighting to give you such a fatal wound!?"

"M-My opponent was… I was struck down… by none other than… Ireland's Child of Light… Cuchulainn. Unnngh!"

"Cuchu… lainn…?" Ituha mumbled under her breath. Her pallor suddenly turned pale as paper, and she stepped away from the scene to compose herself. Something about that name seemed to trigger an emotion in her mind. It wasn't a concrete thought, so much as it was a feeling of nostalgia.

"Hm," Geronimo nodded direly. "If Cuchulainn ever aims his spear Gae Bolg at an enemy, it will always pierce their heart. I was hoping to get you away from there before that happened, but alas, I was too late. I mean no offense, but even if you are the great hero of the Ramayana, not even you would be able to avoid a blow that is meant to hit 100% of the time."

"No offense taken… Argh! That's just… how it goes! Oohf!" Rama grunted.

The Native American put his hand on Ituha's shoulder and said, "Come on, let's leave Nightingale to her work. We will wait for her prognosis."

"Mm."

As the two Servants left the inn, they noticed some of the Resistance soldiers scrambling about in an unusual hurry. Geronimo hailed one man down and asked, "What's going on?"

"Celtic scouts have been spotted and are heading this way! Billy and Robin are holding them off for now, but we need all available troops for battle!"

"Blast it. Our situation always seems to take a turn for the worse… Very well! I shall assist them immediately!"

Ituha took out her slingshot and exclaimed, "I'll help too!"

"You must not! You are already fatigued from our battle with Karna! A child like you should not fight consecutive battles like this!"

"Then would it be okay if I guarded this building instead? I don't want anything to interrupt Lord Rama's treatment."

"Hmph… Guess there's no choice. Hold the fort here then!"

"Yes, sir!"

Ituha watched him leave, then stood in front of the inn and maintained a defensive line in case any enemies came into town. She couldn't really see what was going on with the battle up ahead, other than it was absolute hysteria in the distance as Resistance soldiers battled against a gang of scouts comprising some Celtic soldiers and were-men warriors. Dust rose around them, so visibility was even worse than before. It certainly felt like she was watching a battle in a Spaghetti Western film, except the potential for casualties was much too real.

As she nervously observed the fighting, she caught some sort of movement from the corner of her eye and looked up at the sky. A small dragon had soared over the battle and flew straight for the hamlet. It roared at Ituha when it spotted her, intent on making her its next prey.

"I won't let you!" she exclaimed and readied her slingshot. Her anxiety seemed to be replaced with a burst of courage as she prepared to shoot the monster down. With a deft movement of her fingers, she released her grip on the strap and let fly a large rock that shot at the dragon's head. She heard a distinct cracking sound, followed by the beast crying out in pain before plummeting to the ground with a loud crash. She murmured to herself, "Did it work?"

Ituha ran up to it to confirm if it was dead or not. Its skull was definitely caved in, and some brain matter started to leak out as a goopy substance around the cracks. The wyvern didn't even so much as budge when she touched its scales. Soon enough, its body turned into pure darkness and evaporated into ashes.

"Good, it's dead," she sighed in relief, then turned to head back to the inn, oblivious to the Celtic archer that was taking aim at her from atop a building. A piercing gunshot rang out, stopping the child mid-step. She saw that Nightingale had ran outside and fired her pistol at the archer. He lost his balance and fell from the roof to the ground, dead as could be from a bullet to the head. Like with the dragon, his form turned black and vaporized into nothing.

"Are you all right?" the nurse asked.

"Yes, I'm unharmed. Mr. Geronimo went to fight the scouts."

"Good. I cannot afford any interruptions to the patient's treatment, but I must also think of your safety."

"Is Lord Rama doing okay?"

"I wish I could answer in the affirmative, but alas, my efforts are not saving him. I will keep trying though."

With that, Nightingale went back inside to continue caring for Rama. No more enemies breached the front line, so Ituha didn't have to worry about defeating any more monsters on her own. The battle continued to wage for another half hour before the Resistance soldiers emerged victorious from cleaning up the Celtic scouts. Many wounded men returned, although their lives would not be in serious danger. Their casualties were minimal thanks to Geronimo's help, but they needed to bring some bodies back for burial.

The Apache warrior returned to Ituha's side and said, "My apologies, but we let a couple slip past. Were you hurt?"

"No, I'm fine. Ms. Nightingale and I managed to defeat them."

"Good. I feel bad for subjecting you to such bitter experiences. Unfortunate as it is, we are truly in the middle of a war for our survival."

"Don't worry about me. I'm a bit scared, to be honest, but I still want to help. Even if I have to stay in the back lines, that's good enough for me."

"Very well. Let either Nightingale or myself know if you're not feeling well. Now then, how goes with Rama's treatment?"

"She said she wasn't making much progress."

"Is that so? Then we need a new course of action. Let's have a word with her."

Geronimo and Ituha went inside the inn to see how Nightingale was faring in her efforts to treat Rama.

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

† - "Flickering Candle"