Baginton was a village of medium size situated on the border between the regions of Warwickshire and West Midlands. With 15 households and only one mill it served mostly as a favoured resting point for merchants and simple travellers. The only noteworthy aspect was the nearby fort, which was used to breed and train horses for military use.
The stories told the day he appeared it was raining.
"Aaah!" The woman cried as she fell on the muddy ground, tears staining her face.
"Damn, woman!" The soldier who just kicked her reprimanded harshly. "Stop it already!"
"Mother!" The young boy cried. He was being restrained by two member of the military patrol and in the process of being dragged away. "Mother!"
"Easy here lass." The commander, who could be recognized by the insignia and the fact he had two servitors repairing him from the rain with a wooden board, elbowed the boy in the stomach with a bored expression. "Take it easy." At that point a crowd had formed at the two sides of the street, but nobody dared move or even make a sound.
"Please!" The woman crawled on all four toward the commander, but was stopped by two guards. "Please don't take away my son. I have only him left!"
"Please don't be unreasonable madam." The commander replied with the same bored expression on his face. "You know the law: every male who doesn't have a profession deemed important must join the army. I am only doing my job here. Don't worry: he'll make a fine soldier."
"No! No!" The woman wailed. "He will die! First his father and then his older brothers! Please!" She sobbed harder. "Spare him!"
The man sighed like a father who was dealing with his whimsical five years old son. "I can't do that." He signaled to the two guards holding the woman and began to walk away. "Take her back to her house and give her ten whippings as punishm-"
"If you value your lives, you will remove your hands from her." A stern and commanding voice cut through the air like a hot knife through butter, making everyone freeze and turn toward the source.
Nobody sensed him coming, and yet blocking the path of the patrol was a strong looking brown horse clad in blue and silver plate of exquisite making, enough to cover its vital parts but not heavy enough to slow it down. Sitting on the saddle and holding the reins the rider was likewise clad in armor bearing the same colors, a blue coat hanging from his waist. His face was covered by a hood, but by the scowl on his lips it was clear he was greatly displeased with something.
"W-Who are you?! What do you want?" The commander barked, his previous composure instantly gone. For some strange reason the newcomer's presence unnerved him on a fundamental level, like he was a tiny mice before a cat.
"Don't make me repeat myself. Release the woman and the boy." He commanded. Feeling a strange urge to obey the two soldiers who were holding the mother released her and stepped back. The ones restraining the boy did the same. Once free the young man rushed to the crying woman and embraced her: no one dared to stop him. The villagers looking at the scene could not believe their eyes: who was this stranger who had the courage to stand against the forces of Rome and command them so brazenly?
"What are you doing?!" The commander shouted at his men. "Tch! Arrest him!"
Despite feeling uneasy the well trained troops drew their weapons and surrounded the rider. Swords and lances were pointed high to block any attempt to escape. In response the armored man raised his arm and slightly clenched his hand, like he was grasping an invisible hilt.
"Get down and-!" Whatever the commander wanted to say was cut short as the knight's arm moved.
There was a hissing sound. A soldier suddenly noticed his sword got lighter. Looking down he found the reason: the upper half of the blade was missing, neatly cut away. In complete disbelieve he looked further down and found the missing part on the ground. Then, as if that was the key to break a spell...
Clunk. Clunk. Clunk clunk clunk clunk clunk clunk clunk. One by one all the upper half of the weapons the soldiers were holding fell off like pebbles from a cliff. Not only the sturdy but flexible wood of the lances' poles but also the tempered and mighty Noric steel the swords were made of: all of them were sliced. And nobody saw how it happened. It was impossible. So only one possible answer remained.
"AAAH! Sorcery!" The soldiers screamed and started fleeing in fright back to the fort. Even the two servants of the commander ditched him and fled.
"Wait! What are you doing?! Come back!" The man tried to run after them but tripped and fell on the muddy ground, staining his once pristine uniform. "H-Help! Help me!"
Clop clop. Clop clop. The sound of hooves drew near. Raising his head he found the horse and his majestic rider standing above him. From that angle he could finally see the man's eyes: they were a green so deep and dazzling it put even emeralds to shame.
Those eyes...were the eyes of something more than human.
"Tell me..." The knight asked with a tone that asked, nay demanded a swift and truthful answer. "Where do your loyalty lie?"
"I-I am a proud of servant of Rome and his Excellency Municeps!" He stuttered.
The knight's face didn't show a single change. "His Excellency? You seem to regard Municeps in high regard."
"O-Of course!" His tone regained a bit of boldness. "His Majesty is the true King of this land, superior even to the Emperor! His strength is so great even the Gods are afraid of him!"
"I see." The rider nodded. Hope blossomed inside the commander. Maybe there was a misunderstanding. Maybe... "Using my sword is a honor you don't deserve." Eh? "Llamrei, please."
Before the soldier could understand what happened the horse raised a hoof and kicked him with such force that his body was blasted forward like a missile. It passed straight through an old house and disappeared in the distance. Not even a drop of blood was left behind as a testimony of his previous existence.
Shaking his head the knight dismounted the horse and slowly walked toward the mother and son pair. The young boy hugged the woman closer: he knew he was no match for the mysterious figure, so at the very least he will use his own body as a shield for his mother. The crowd of people took a step back, many looked away expecting an execution.
Instead the knight knelt before the two. "Are both of you alright?" He asked in a gentle tone completely different from the harsh one of before. Then he removed his hood, letting everyone finally see his appearance.
Golden hair. Jewel-like green eyes so deep and dazzling they put emeralds to shame. A beautiful face, full into adulthood and yet it still retained some traces of youthfulness. And an overwhelming aura that spoke of power and solemnity. For a moment the boy forgot everything: his hunger for not having eat a decent meal in days, his fear at the prospective of dying alone away from home and his concern for his poor mother, because for an instant the blond knight became all his world. They both nodded numbly.
"Good." He smiled, and it was like the rain stopped and the sun shined again. He stood up and walked toward his horse. "Don't worry, I will make so you will never be bothered again."
The boy could resist anymore. "A-Are you a God?" He asked to his savior.
The knight stopped next to his ride. "No." With a smooth movement he climbed on the saddle. His eyes bored into the boy's own. "But..." He smiled again. "You can consider me this land guardian spirit. I have come to bring Justice and Peace. So, rest at ease."
After saying that he flicked the reins and started a light gallop in the direction the soldiers ran towards.
Inside the fort it was utter chaos: after the patrol sent to 'recruit' the peasants returned in a panic and without their commander, rumors of an invincible magic-wielding knight who defeated twenty men with one strike spread like fire, seriously destabilizing the soldiers' discipline. The absence of the fort's commander didn't help at all. So the vice-commander was forced to work hard to bring order back.
"You lot! Take your posts!" He barked. "Stop chickening out like a bunch of women! I want a team of our best men: they need to search for the commander and bring him back. Alive. And..!"
"He's here!" The sentinels on the towers shouted. "The enemy knight is here!"
The vice-commander stopped and grinned. "Temerarious bastard. What does he think of doing? Don't have fear!" He bellowed to the assembled soldiers. "He is alone while we are many and inside the fort. What can he do?"
In that moment the wind carried the sound of two words uttered from the other side of the gate.
"[Strike Air]."
[*]
Arthur analyzed his handiwork as he proceeded inside the now ruined fort. 'Not only my body, but my Noble Phantasms too are more powerful.' He thought as his glance fell on the pulverized gate, the destroyed wall and the tends of the soldiers reduced to mere scraps of cloth floating in the air. 'I need to be more careful in the future.'
Dismounting from Llamrei he walked amidst the unconscious soldiers and stopped when he found the one with the highest grades. He prodded him with his armored foot. "Get up." He commanded.
"Urgh..." The vice-commander felt as if all his bones were broken. "I-I can't. I..."
Arthur grabbed his shoulder and roughly pulled him up. "Are you the highest commanding officer here?" The man could do nothing but stiffly nod. "Good. I have a mission for you. You will take a horse and go to Camulodunum, to bring a message to Gracianus Municeps." The vice-commander gasped.
The blond king's eyes narrowed. "Tell him that I'm coming from him, to make him pay for his crimes. Tell him that he has only two choices: to repent,-" His voice hardened. "-or to die."
"N-No I cannot.."
"You can. You will." Arthur said with finality. Holding the man like he weights nothing he dragged him to the stalls and put him atop an already saddled horse. "Go."
"..If he asks who sent me, what do I answer?" The vice-commander asked with a resigned tone.
"Tell him my name is Artus."
The soldier stiffly nodded and forced his aching body to move. Ten minutes later he was far away from the city, galloping toward the city of Camulodunum.
A city that in the future will be called Colchester.
[*]
Five days later Arthur and Llamrei found themselves passing through a great plain in the middle of nowhere. After sending the messenger he helped establishing order back to Baginton, setting new, more just rules and appointing a new commander for the fort, one that cared for the people.
The only sour point was that the villagers were dead set into worshipping him as some kind of Savior God who came to save Britain. While the last part was true, he still wasn't comfortable with the sort of attention he got. As a king back in Camelot he received plenty of it, but the villagers' one was just two steps short of fanatical: they even offered him their daughters as sacrifices! Or brides. He couldn't really tell. Of course he refused: in the end he convinced then to refer to him just as a [Hero].
'I wonder if this how my knights felt.' Arthur was reminded about his loyal vassals and how many of them had the habit of roaming the land in search of good deeds to achieve. 'Well, maybe not the Godhood part...Uhm?'
His musings were cut short as his instincts warned him of approaching danger. He patted the mare's neck to make her stop and waited.
One minutes later a nightmarish army appeared from the other end of the road. Packs of huge wolves bigger than horses advanced slowly, their red eyes full of nothing but bloodlust. At every step the ground around them froze, covering everything with a layer of ice. Following them, marching in a mocking caricature of a real army, were troops upon troops of walking skeletons clad in various kinds of armor, both roman and barbaric. No trace of flesh could be seen on their bodies and yet they held themselves together and marched forward with the same casualness of flesh and blood humans. From their bones oozed a black mist that made the grass rot, slowly transforming the lush landscape into a barren wasteland.
And at the head, sitting upon a skeletal horse, was a dark knight: clad from head to toe with heavy black armor and wolf's fur, he was a man in his early thirty with black hair and grey eyes. His face, while handsome, held a wild edge to it that inspire more fear than admiration.
The instant Arthur's eyes landed on that man, his entire being was filled with energy and a great sense of animosity toward him. From the back of his mind a voice was telling him to cut down the newcomer with extreme prejudice.
"Kukuku! Greetings, oh adversary of mine!" The dark knight chuckled. "When your messenger arrived two days ago I could scarcely believe my ears: someone dared to oppose me? But then my mages told me they sensed a Heretic God approaching and I understood! Kukuku!"
"You are Gracianus Municeps then?" Arthur asked as a formality, for he had no doubts about the man's true identity.
"Indeed! And you are Artus, correct? Not a name I recognize. Probably an unknown God worshipped by barbarians from the East. Kukuku, it doesn't matter. After all..." He smiled, a horrid sight that resembled a wild animal peeling back his lips to growl. "Prey is prey."
Arthur's eyes narrowed, his face setting into an expression of pure distaste. "Your answer." He demanded.
"What?"
"In my message I told you to repent for your crimes or to die. Your answer God-slayer." Despite them being of the same height it was like Arthur was looking down at Gracianus. "If you admit to regret your wrongdoings I'm ready to forgive you and offer you a second chance."
"Kukuku! What are you saying?" A wild glint entered the roman general's eyes as he guffawed like a madman. "I'm a Devil King and you're a God! We are mortal foes! Our destiny is to fight each other to the death! There cannot be any other outcome!"
"I see. So this is your answer." With a graceful jump Arthur dismounted Llamrei. He patted her flank. "Wait for me." Then he started to slowly walk toward his opponent, right hand already clenched around the hilt of invisible Excalibur.
The wolves and the skeletons began to encircle him, moving as if they were one mind and one body. "Yes! Yes! Fight, struggle, and then die by my hands! Hunting is the greatest game!" Municeps bellowed.
Arthur took a step forward.
Then another.
The next step Arthur broke thrice the sound's barrier. He swung his sword down, air burning from the friction, aiming the tip between the eyes of a wolf whose brain had yet to register what was happening in front of him. The next instant the area in front of the Once and Future King exploded in a flash of light so bright it hurt the eyes, instantly annihilating fifty of the infernal troops in front of him. Another two swings and the ones at his sides suffered the same fate.
Arthur raised his head and looked the shocked Gracianus in the eyes. "It's a pity then, because this is not a game." His voice didn't contain a ounce of mercy.
"This is your execution."
[*]
And, stop. The second part is in the next chapter. I will try to make it epic, but considering how much I planned for this story...I will burn that bridge when I reach it.
To answer your questions:
altenativefuturefan27: Campione Kirei? Now that's scary: I don't think even Godou is prepared for the kind of psychological warfare Kotomine is capable of.
Arturia(Saber FSN) will not appear in this fic, except as an omake.
trung-t-rung: I will make omake about all Campione, but I will post them every now and then.
Guest: opinions are opinions. If it can help what I wrote was the interpretation of Arthur, after he spent centuries battling evil Campione. He is a bit biased, so he interpreted Luo Hao's words in the worst meaning.
blarg7865: for that I would need Marcus Galen Sands permission to use his character. I'm planning to resume it in October or November.
Guest: no, it's not official to the storyline. Just a possible way the meetings between Arthur and Canon Campione could go.
Feng Lengshun: I know about gappies. That's an interesting comparison you made (even if I'm sure Godou and Alex would strongly disagree and insist they're not like the others. Yeah right). I blame the author for showing many things as nice even when they're not.
Funny you mention that: do you know that Proto Arthur shared some traits with Fate Archer? I quote: "However, for a brief period his style of speech was mingled with nihilistic mannerisms. Not only that, but he had his bouts of hypocritical courtesy as he would at times tease or make fun of Ayaka. In Fate/stay night Archer would inherit these traits. In fact, the nature of Saber and Ayaka's relationship, at least in the beginning, was similar to that of Rin Tohsaka and Archer."
Now then...
Would you graciously review?