A/N: R.I.P. Stan Lee, you will be missed.
SURPRISE UPDATE!
0_0
WE'VE RECEIVED MORE THAN FIVE HUNDRED AND SIXTY REVIEWS AT THE TIME OF THIS AUTHOR'S NOTE! LET'S GET IT TO SIX HUNDRED! YOU GUYS ROCK! These chapters take so long to write because there's so much to INCLUDE in them. After all, this story is about Fate AND Naruto. If I wanted to write about Naruto and Naruto alone, they'd be a lot shorter, no?
Nobody wants that!
So, here! More than ten thousand words for ya!
And once again, that blasted obligatory disclaimer:
I!
OWN!
NOTHING!
Now that we've finished that, lets get the catchphrase out of the way, ey?
REVIEW FOR IT FEEDS MY ENGINE OF CREATION! Well, if you like. I can't force you~!
I feel I should clarify something before we continue. Naruto...is not sane in this story. He's not in a bad way mind you, he's just not altogether "there" at the moment. Throw in a dash of Madness Enhancement and you've got a recipe for chaos. We've seen what rumors and slander can do to Vlad would be a prime example of this. Naruto's...a more extreme example. Remember, in his age, jinchuuriiki were thought to be monsters, wild and feral beasts with little control of themselves. Surprise surprise, when one or two break the mold they're considered the exception, not the rule.
Although Naruto and Killer Bee proved such rumors to be untrue, the rumors still persisted.
On another note, this chapter's a bit broader than others; in that I focus on more people than I customarily do. I feel I should warn you now, the focus shifts a lot; primarily it sticks with Naruto in this chapter but it DOES move from character to character throughout. Romance finally begins to come into play here, but that promises to be a bumpy road for all parties involved. Lots of interlocking pieces, if you will. On that note, parts of this were a right bitch to write. Others were a treat and input from several readers-you know who you are!-helped to expedite the process significantly.
After all, nothing is ever simple where the Fate series is concerned.
This is a treat to write, in part because it has so many moving...well, parts! One would think that swapping one Servant for another-in this case, Spartacus for Naruto-wouldn't change much, and yet we've already seen that's not the case. The Great Grail War has already changed on a fundamental level and nothing will the same. Allies may become enemies. Adversaries could turn their coat at the most unexpected moment. Allegiances change and shift with the wind. Even the Holy Grail itself isn't wholly immune to the change our berserker blond's brought with him.
Just about EVERYBODY gets some screentime in this chapter, and that's not an easy thing to do when you consider the size of the cast!
What can I say? I really do enjoy writing Fate Stay Night material. Turns out I have a bit of knack for it.
Also, in terms of Astolfo I REGRET ABSOLUTELY NOTHING!
Thanks once again for sticking with me, all!
Now, in lie of a longer author's note...
...shall we begin?
"Ha! Told you it would happen."
"T'was never a matter of if...only when."
~?
The Dogs of War
"Berserker's trying to kill me?"
Shirou Tokisada Amakusa had experienced many emotions in his heyday.
Love, Joy, sorrow, and oh yes...hatred.
Surprise was rarely one of them.
A note of incredulity mingled with the fading afternoon sunlight, filtered through windows of stained glass to cast an ominous shadow upon his face. The dawn had come and gone. Night would soon be upon them, with all the chaos that it brought. Yet those mocking words continued to echo through the church, folding endlessly in on themselves like a pair of paper dolls until naught remained but silence. Already their owner felt the telltale signs of migraine beginning to bloom in the back of his head; manifesting as a dull throbbing sensation amidst his temples.
'That one again.' his lips pursed into a rare frown. 'Perhaps I should have killed him when I had the chance.'
"Did I stutter?" Assassin's voice cracked like a whip, reminding him of his audience.
Right. He didn't have the liberty of dwelling on his own shortcomings.
Gods above, where had Shakespeare wandered off to this time?
He sorely hoped the fool wasn't wandering about Trifas...
At length, Shirou exhaled and rose from his kneeling position below the altar, stifling an impulse to sigh for what felt like the umpteenth time this hour. It felt as though he'd been doing an awful lot of sighing from the moment he'd laid eyes on that one. Under any other circumstances he would've greeted his Servant with a smile. Improper though those feelings might be, he felt he should foster them. His wish hinged on her cooperation after all, now more than ever considering she'd nearly lost her life to that impudent...arrogant...upstart of a BERSERKER...!
For a moment, just a moment, his pleasant facade slipped.
"Hmm? That's quite the face you're making, Master."
As ever, Assassin's expression didn't waver-no, wait. He lied. There was an ember of annoyance replacing the usual glowering tenderness she wore when addressing him. A fire that threatened to grow into a roaring blaze at the slightest provocation. Oh, dear. Had Berserker gotten to her as well? Planted doubts in her might? This wouldn't do. He might have to address that. He couldn't afford to have Semiramis doubt him now. Her Hanging Gardens of Babylon were a critical part of the plan. Without them, retrieving the Greater Grail would prove difficult indeed.
Composing his face into a pleasant mask, the irritated priest sketched a humble bow.
"My apologies, Semiramis. I suppose the stress has been getting to me."
Sure enough, Assassin's uncertainty dissolved into a satisfied smirk.
"So long as you understand."
Oh, Shirou understood. He simply hadn't expected a Servant to actually be out for his blood.
Much less one capable of kidnapping Semiramis.
Yes, having cast aside such sentiment long ago, he could view the situation rationally. Were another might have felt fear, anger, or even doubt, he merely experienced mild curiosity. Just how was he outmaneuvering him in this War? How had sensed the trap laying in wait for him and his Master? How did he spirit Assassin away without him knowing until this very moment? How indeed. Lancer had hinted at such a technique upon returning from his duel, but this only solidified Shirou's prior belief.
Claiming a seat in the pew beside her, he willed concern he didn't necessarily feel into his voice.
"He didn't hurt you, did he?"
Instead of producing the desired effect of soothing her, Amakusa found himself faced with a dark look.
...he did." his Servant relented, biting her a fingernail in exasperation. "Then he healed me. I don't understand him. Can you believe he asked for a truce? He even knew my identity."
"Ah." Shirou managed eloquently. It wasn't that he disliked Semiramis. He simply doubted Berserker's ability to kill her. He was far too predictable for his own good.
Truce or no, Berserker of Red needed to die.
If Semiramis was to be believed, he'd already drawn a number of Servants to his side. Under his banner, a portion of the Red Faction threatened to break away entirely. Had it simply been Saber and Sisigou, he would not have expended such effort. Even Atalanta alone would've been no great loss in the long run; one easily brought back into the fold upon claiming the Command Spells of her master, though more preparation was yet required for that. But Berserker and Rum had not only broken ranks, the former had gone out of his way to thwart Karna's assassination of Ruler. Any further attempts would likely be met with open hostility.
Worse, they'd stolen a Servant of Black for themselves. That brought their numbers to five.
Rider, Assassin, Caster, Lancer. Including himself they numbered six.
Still, his side retained the numerical superiority...for now.
But who knew when that statistic would change?
For now, he would continue to play the game.
"And?" he prodded." What do you think of him?"
Semirais grit her teeth. "A fool."
She was hiding something.
How...unfortunate.
"I see. Are the Hanging Gardens finished, then?"
Semiramis averted her gaze. "Nearly so. By tomorrow at the latest, I'd expect."
"Hmm." Shirou murmured absently, his mind already elsewhere. "We're nearly ready then."
Berserker was a man driven by emotion. Impulse. Sentiment. As such it was almost painfully easy to predict his next move and thus, counter him. Shirou, who had forsaken a heart filled with hatred for the sake of humankind's salvation, could understand that much. After all, he too had once been consumed by emotion. Driven by it. Dominated by it. Feelings could be treacherous. Precisely why he'd resolved to discarded them in the first place. After all, humanity's future was at stake. If everyone could simply abandon their selfishness and saved others, could not such a world be created? A realm where everyone was saved and happy.
Some might call such a wish naive, flawed even, but he cared not for their thoughts.
This was his wish for the Grail.
He would not be denied.
'Not this time.'
For the sake of that dream he would not hesitate. No, he could not. He would destroy any adversary without hesitation. All obstacles must be eliminated. Those whom he could not kill-such as Lancer or Assassin-he would manipulate into doing his bidding. The weaker ones he would crush. And as for Berserker...why did he have this niggling suspicion that he knew him, not on a personal level, but his identity...? That whiskered face, the crimson coat, the distinctive way he finished his sentences, that unorthodox way of fighting, and that damned charisma...
Something clicked.
"He's Uzumaki Naruto."
"You know him?" the blackette frowned.
"I'm peripherally aware of his legend." thumbing his chin, the priest paused and leaned forward to consider her words. "He's a hero from long ago, albeit an obscure one. They say he secured lasting peace in his era for more than three hundred years. Someone like that doesn't strike me as a Berserker. Frankly, I'm surprised he was summoned as such in this war. It must have something to do with his Noble Phantasm."
A haunted look flashed through the poisoner's gaze.
"Oh?" He caught it immediately. "You saw it, didn't you?"
"Silence!" Semiramis absolutely hissed. "I will not speak of it!"
"Clearly, he's a threat." he relented. "He'll have to be eliminated. Ruler, too."
Assassin actually blinked. "I gave him my word that he wouldn't be harmed...yet."
Left unspoken was the silent threat. That's my kill. Take him from me at your own peril.
"You didn't give him mine." Shirou pointed out. "In any case it doesn't matter. He's no match for Lancer and Rider."
There it was again, that brief flicker of uncertainty in her eyes. Doubt, poisoned by something he didn't understand. Carelessly, he dismissed it as inconsequential, his thoughts drifting once more to the matter at hand. Semiramis was loyal to him. Surely it would take more than a seed of doubt for her to betray his trust. Perhaps had he not been so fixated on his goal he might've lent the matter more thought. But he did not. Shirou could not be faulted for this. There was no malice held in his heart; only pure, unflinching resolve.
"You intend to kill him, then?"
Amakusa favored her with a small smile.
"Naturally. Its the best course of action, after all...
(...XxXxX...)
"Are you sure that was the best course of action?"
If she was at all displeased by Sisigou's blunt inquiry Jean Rum did little to show it; on the contrary the Gale Wheel seemed quietly satisfied with the plans they'd made. Her bespectacled gaze never wavered from the map before them, her left hand idly diving their Servant's route even as the right occupied itself with another matter on the opposite side. There was a telltale gleam in her gaze that the old necromancer knew all too well-one that boded ill for whomever found themselves on the receiving end of that stoic glare. He almost pitied them. Almost.
Still, the matter needed to be addressed.
"We're exposed here without our Servants." laying a hand upon the weathered hand upon the table, he fixed the brunette with a measuring look. "Surely you understand that?"
"And?"
A muscle jumped in Kairi's jaw.
"We can't count on Ruler if it comes to a fight." the necromancer pressed, finally drawing a scathing look from his ally as a dainty sneeze answered from a nearby room. "She's sworn herself to neutrality, remember?" when she didn't challenge him, he bulled on ahead in spite of her silence. "And you just let three quarters of our forces walk out the door. Who knows when they'll return? If the enemy finds us here we won't be able to retreat-
"I understand your concerns, but would you kindly calm down?"
With a tempered sigh borne of hardened steel the younger magus finally raised her icy gaze to meet his. Kairi nearly balked. Spirits, he'd forgotten just how vicious Jean could be when backed into a corner. After all, she was a monster who specialized in combat, one who removed any and all opposition without mercy. To think otherwise was akin to anathema for him. For all her social awkwardness and odd mannerisms, Jean was nearly his equal when it came to magus combat. She'd likely gut him with one of her chakrams if he continued his present course of action. Allies they might well be, but he didn't want to push her too far.
"No need to concern yourself." his fellow magus reassured him. "If worst comes to worst we've still got this one."
Slender fingers stroked Assassin's silver mane, sending the girl into fresh paroxysms of delight at her side.
"Mmhm, that feels nice!" she purred happily. "Keep going!"
"Are you sure we can trust her?" Kairi muttered.
"What's not to trust?" Those dark eyes drifted back to the parchment beneath them, the crystal beneath her fingers slowly trailing its way north. "She's bound to Berserker, which means she's also bound to me. Killing me would deprive her of him, which in turn ensures her loyalty to our cause. Its elementary, really."
"You say that, but she's still part of the Black Faction. Doesn't that concern you?"
The bibliomaniac arched a thick eyebrow at him in mild consternation.
"Say, Jack-chan." she hummed aloud, "Would you betray us?"
Round, innocent eyes of spun gold rose up to meet hers.
"Why would we do that?" she blinked. "We like you~!"
"And why do you like us?" Jean prodded.
Assassin offered another slow blink at that and tilted her head aside to regard them. So small. So innocent. Almost like...no. Kairi felt his heart give an unpleasant lurch in his chest. The sight stirred up unpleasant memories in the bedrock of his mind, a poignant reminder of his own desperate wish for the Holy Grail.
"You're like Onii-chan." she began to count off her gloved fingers slowly, "You keep us safe and warm. You feed us when we're hungry. You gave us clothes. We like that. Why would we give that up?"
The wind wielder offered Sisigou angelic smile.
"See? No problems."
"Oi, oi, oi...
This woman was troublesome. Of that there could be no doubt. No amount of effort on his part would convince her; no honeyed words could ever hope to sway her thoughts. She was driven by pure purpose, a wild single-minded goal in which she would trample all others to reach. Honestly, she terrified him more than any Servant. Berserker and Saber would eventually vanish upon the War's conclusion, but Jean Rum would undoubtedly remain. Not only was she cunning, but ruthless to boot. It would take more than the Black Faction possessed to do her in. Speaking of said faction...
The necromancers coughed harshly in a vain attempt to hide his discomfort.
"You do realize those Yggdmillennia bastards aren't going to take this lying down." he warned, following the route she'd divined and the boundary upon which it had come to rest. "Whether Berserker knows it or not, he's essentially invading their territory. They'll take that as a provocation."
The wind wielder's smile turned positively feral.
"Of course. I'm counting on it."
"You want them to attack?"
"But of course."
Steeping her fingers in a tent formation Jean cast the crystal down onto the map. Rather that tumble madly as one might expect it alighted upon a single point and stood rigid. Moments later it began to pulse a ghastly shade of crimson before finally clearing to reveal an image. Gradually said image resolved into a moving scene of sorts. Behind the tinted shades of his sunglasses, the scarred magus narrowed his gaze. He recognized the name etched into the map, the very same location they'd scryed not long ago. Sighisoara? Given the frequency of its pulsations, one could only assume that was where the trio had wandered off to.
Sure enough, he spied a shock of blond hair amidst the townsfolk.
"Wait a minute. Are they doing what I think they're-
"Berseker. Saber. Archer." One by one Jean recited their names, her lips moving slowly around the words, that placid gaze never once leaving the crude crystal nor the scene playing out within. "Two front-line fighters coupled with a support, walking about in broad daylight. Fresh fruit, ripe for the picking. The enemy won't be able to resist. From what little we know of them, they're likely to send Servants of their own to determine our strength. Two at the least, possibly three. This way, you and I will be safely out of harms way while we assess their weakness, yet still able to give orders of our own. Then when the time comes, we can join the fray and be prepared for the next battle. Brilliant, no?"
"Still doesn't sit right with me."
"Suck it up, cupcake." Rum purred.
"Ouch." he whistled. "Forgot about that sharp tongue of yours."
Jean clicked her teeth at him in light warning. "Shall I remind you, then?"
"No, no, I'm good." the scarred magus raised his right hand to ward off pleasant memories. They'd been more than allies, once and their friendship had endured despite that. Truly, he couldn't have found a better partner in this war. Now, if only he could convince her to let him have his wish...
"I'm sorry...am I interrupting?"
A distant clamor claimed their attention, punctuated by a soft yawn; moments later Ruler finally made her presence known to them as she glided into the room. Though her hair was still tousled from sleep-suggesting she'd simply opted to take a nap rather than endure Naruto's shenanigans any longer-the armored blond still projected an air of quiet stoicism. Those deep violet eyes remained clouded however, their owner deep in thought. Then she spied Jack and a spark of confusion danced through that lilac gaze. The latter retaliated with a cheery wave.
"Ah, the sleeping beauty stirs at last." Jean hummed. "We were beginning to wonder if you'd ever wake up."
"Morning~!" Assassin chirruped happily.
"Sleep well?" Kairi waggled a thick brow at her.
Startled out of her reverie, the blond offered a rapid blink and bobbed her head.
"Yes," she murmured hastily. "Thank you for your hospitality."
Jeanne smirked.
"We weren't too loud?"
'Oi, now! Are you trying to provoke her?!'
The slightest twitch passed through Ruler's serene visage, gone before either magus could claim it had even existed.
"My rest was...sufficient." She relented with a humble bow. "I will be taking my leave shortly."
"Already?" Jack whined. "I wanted to play!"
"Perhaps next time."
There it was again, that strange stiffness in Ruler's shoulders. It wasn't anger or sorrow, Kairi noted. One might hearken it to confusion. As though Ruler couldn't decided how best to speak to Assassin. It seemed a strange hangup for one elevated to Sainthood. In any case, that was none of his concern. It was as if such a conflicted emotion could possibly tear her apart. This was a Servant after all. She was built of sterner stuff than most.
"Aw." Jack sighed, her shoulder drooping in defeat.
Putting her discomfort for Assassin aside, one couldn't help but be at ease around Ruler. Even Sisigou found it something of an effort to keep his guard up. Perhaps it had something to do with her being a saint? Berserker had been-much to Jeanne's chagrin-terribly forthcoming about her identity. The legendary Maiden of Orleans herself. What had he said about her, again? Something about her being too pure for her own good. She'd even gone out of her way to thank them when she could've easily slipped away without a word. Someone like this could no sooner stab them in the back than she could forsake her own beliefs. Moreover, she was bound by the rules of the Grail itself to be impartial. So long as that belief wasn't corroded, they had nothing to fear from her.
A low grumbled rose in vicious dissent.
Well, perhaps her appetite.
As the unlikely trio looked on a faint flush crept up across Jeanne's face. Indeed, the slow flushing of her saintly visage was something Sisigou would take to his grave. It almost made him want to bully her more often. Ah. He'd almost forgotten. Ruler possessed a physical body, didn't she? Berserker had mentioned that in passing. She likely had to eat to sustain her physical form in this world. Poor thing. She'd really drawn a bad hand in this war. Was it wrong that Kairi felt sorry for her, now?
"We've got a bit of breakfast left over." he offered. "Want some?"
"I couldn't possibly impugn further on your generosity than I already have-
Ruler's stomach offered another plaintive whine of disagreement, far louder than the last.
...I suppose I can stay a moment more." she averted her gaze, face downcast to hide her silent shame. "While I'm here, I wish to inquire about something."
"About Berserker?" Jean tilted her head.
"I confess myself curious, did you summon him intentionally?"
"I know about as much as you do." Rum replied with a small shrug. "Probably less, given the eyes he's been making at you. He's surprisingly fickle, that one. Its not like I expected to pull him in any case." She waved her marked hand about airily for emphasis. "Frankly I would've preferred the Caster class. Easier to control and all that. Still," That bespectacled gaze shifted then, regarding the seals imprinted upon the back of her palm with something dangerously akin to nostalgia. "He's been good to me thus far. When I give a bad order he'll tell me so straight to my face. He even went so far as to save Jack, when he had no need to. I won't give him up without a fight, you know. You'll have to work for it."
Jeanne absolutely sputtered.
"Hweh?!"
"Relax, I'm kidding!" the magus laughed and lowered her hand. "You're cute when your flustered."
"Aha! Did Naruto put you up to this?!" Jeanne demanded.
...he might have." the magus relented, passing her a pale of dried bacon.
"Neh, neh!" Assassin piped up suddenly, drawing all eyes to her. "If Naruto Onii-chan's papa...
Ruler stiffened. Too late, Kairi realized what was about to transpire before them.
"Assassin, whatever you're about to say, do NOT-
Those innocent orbs swiveled upon Jean Rum.
...does that make you our mama, then?"
Jean went pale as a fresh sheet.
Foolishly, Kairi snickered.
Ruler squeaked.
Doom.
"Ho?"
An aura of palpable malice radiated from the the Gale Wheel's shoulders, threatening to smother him if he looked her in the eye. A strange, lilting laugh arose from his companion to set him on edge. No. He couldn't bring himself to look. Rather, he mustn't look. To meet Rum's gaze now would be akin to setting off a nuclear warhead. The only thing that awaited him at the end of that road was a swift demise. Moreover, if he moved now he was almost certain Jean would attack him. He had to be still. A silent stone in the river, unyielding, unmoving, utterly unyielding to anything-
"Sisigou," Jean purred softly, "Did you laugh at me, just now?"
In the end, temptation finally won out and he looked up.
"In my defense, I wasn't expecting that-URK?!"
Jean's fist barreled upward into his face.
Ruler groaned softly to herself.
"Lord preserve me...
(XxXxXx)
Madness.
Absolute madness. Try as he might Darnic couldn't comprehend what he was looking at; indeed, to understand the enemy's plan one would have to be insane...or exceedingly sentimental. As he was neither of these things-nor could he ever hope to be-the head of the Yggdmillennia clan found himself at something of an impasse. To say he was displeased would be akin to calling water wet, an understatement in the purest sense of the word. With each passing moment his ire grew, sparking towards an inevitable conclusion.
This!
Made!
No! Sense!
He, Darnic Prestone Yggdmillennia had scraped, slashed and struggled to stand where he stood now. Decades of planning had led to this moment. He'd fought in countless battles. Stolen the Holy Grail itself and used it as leverage to break away from the Association. It was he who had manipulated the terms of this war, he who had bolstered the ranks of his clan in preparation for the coming battle, and he who stood to gain from it all. Now they stood at a critical juncture; on the cusp of acquiring all the mysteries and miracles of this world. Reaching the root. Their long cherished dream was finally within reach. All that remained was for the enemy to make their move and come to them, as they must.
Black vs Red.
Now, thanks in no small part to Caster's skilled scrying he and a number of the Black Faction finally beheld their foes for the first time. One of them had tripped a bounded field near the town, thereby enabling Avicebron to utilize one of his familiars to observe the enemy Servants from afar. Three of them no less. One was easily recognized as Berserker of Red; the same staggering fool who'd invaded their castle some days ago, accosted their own Berserker and made off with a bottle of wine before turning to smoke under Lancer's assault. The others remained unknown to them, but one could easily surmise them to be Archer and Saber judging by their armaments.
A formidable trio indeed.
Yet they weren't doing anything!
Rather than approach the castle they'd spent the last two hours waltzing through town like utter fools! Imbeciles, with no purpose in mind! Of their Masters there remained no sign. Of course. Only a fool would willingly throw themselves in harms way They'd either sent their familiars ahead, concealed themselves with thaumaturgy, or blended among the populace with such skill that any attempt to root them out would prove fruitless.
To make matters worse, the Grail had become increasingly erratic as of late.
It had taken to pulsing at strange intervals, almost akin to that of a human heart. They couldn't figure out the cause. From the moment Berserker had invaded the Greater Grail began to react. Violently. Perhaps it was just that-impatient. Hungry for the energy that the slain Servants would provide. Whatever the case, it wasn't something they could address now. If the situation worsened perhaps then they might be able to do something but as the situation stood there was simply nothing they could so.
Just what was the enemy plotting?
"So he lives after all." a low, regal voice cast its shadow over his thoughts. "Surprising."
Masking his own concern, Darnic feigned a bow.
"It is as you say, my lord."
Lowering his head, he watched his Servant rise from the throne to survey the screen.
The man's face was a study of contrasts; though those bright eyes were indeed tight with anger, the faintest of smiles adorned his pale visage. He seemed almost...pleased by this unexpected revelation. Indeed, the magus recognized a kindred spirit in those terrifying orbs-respect for an enemy. Something had caught his interest. No, someone.
"Hmmph." Lancer rumbled, thumbing his chin. "That is our intruder, is it not?" When no dared challenge him that small, spry smirk tore into a true grin. "I suspected as much. I'm surprised a petty thief could survive my attack...
Darnic preened.
This was the absolute trump card of the Black Faction, a Servant so absurdly overpowered as to be able to scorn the gods themselves. Vlad Tepes III. They'd gone to great lengths to summon him here in his homeland, where he stood at the absolute peak of his power. Romania may be a small country but it was here that Lancer was truly in his prime, his element. Transylvania was his territory; so long as he remained within, one might even think him invincible. That he had a bone to pick with Berserker of Red was simply icing on the cake as far as Darnic was concerned. After all, it wasn't every day that a thieving wretch invaded a lord's castle and lived to tell the tale.
Vlad likely wished to kill Berserker as a matter of pride. Honor demanded it.
That suited Darnic just fine. He'd happily let the two of them tear one another to shreds. Two men-no, monsters masquerading as men. There was certainly some irony to be had there. In a fit of whimsy he almost sicced Lancer on Red's Berserker outright, but thought better of it at the last moment. No, better to keep him close. Command Spells were precious and not to be wasted wantonly.
Certainly not if he were ever to make Lancer use that.
Moreover, it was important that his Servant believe himself to be in control for the moment. Nothing was further from the truth of course-for Darnic saw him as little more than a familiar-but the ruse remained regardless. Though the years may have dulled his spirit, his silver tongue still remained sharp. So long as Vlad thought otherwise, his scheme would unfold as planned.
Berserker, meanwhile, stiffened in quiet consternation.
'Berserker of Red...that...idiot! What is he thinking?!'
Perhaps it was a side effect of their encounter, but her thoughts had proven-to her great distress-increasingly coherent as of late. Almost frightfully so. While speech was still denied to her-and thank small mercies for that one!-she found herself terribly, accursedly, sane.
Enough to rage at him, certainly!
And yet she would not.
Only her Master could sense her discontent, but she refused to divulge the reason to him. Caules might wonder what had riled her up, yet without a voice, she could never tell him. Her thoughts were another matter. She wanted to reach through the screen and throttle that blond buffoon! He'd wandered into their territory without even noticing! Wait. Maybe he had. Was that why he'd brought reinforcements? Or was he simply that naive? A tangled knot of emotion writhed in her stomach at the thought. Try as she might she couldn't untangle it. Berserker of Red-Naruto!-was the enemy; someone who must be defeated. By right, she shouldn't care what happened to him.
And yet she could not.
It made no sense! She barely knew him. Indeed, she owed him nothing. Less than nothing. He'd given her wilting flowers and a smile. A few kind words in parting. An offer of peace. Nothing concrete beyond that. He had not asked for her loyalty and while she certainly wasn't about to give it to him, neither could she banish that smiling face from her mind. She should hate him. Loathe him! He'd done...something to her mind, an act that threatened to bring her memories back and all the pain with them. She ought to find him and grind his skull beneath her heel, obliterate him with her Blasted Tree...!
And yet she did not.
'WHY?!'
Exasperated, she tore at her hair in a fit of pique and shrieked her fury to the ceiling.
"AAAAAARGH!"
"Agreed, Berserker. He certainly isn't the subtle type." Archer seconded.
Fran nearly clobbered his head off in recompense for his temerity.
'That wasn't what I said and you know it, shitty centaur!'
"Think he's challenging us?" Rider tilted her head.
'Hell if I know! I don't understand him!'
Lancer offered a noncommittal grunt of his own. "Perhaps he wishes to lure us out, then."
"This is a trap, clearly." Caster's masked face betrayed no hint of emotion as he regarded the strange scene unfolding before them. "They expect us to come for them."
Perhaps sensing that very thought, the red one turned. Wild blue eyes rose to find the familiar and by extension, those watching. Whiskered cheeks dimpled in a sly smile. Clawed fingers crooked in a come-hither motion, beckoning at the clay pigeon as much as those observing through its lone eye. Perhaps triggered by the motion Caster's creation zoomed in upon the cloaked warrior, further exposing his face to view. Despite the leagues separating them, in spite of his entourage and the nearby Servants well within arms reach, Berserker felt a subtle chill race down her spine. There was a fierce light in those azure orbs, the look of a beast tethered upon a fraying leash, one she prayed he himself would never face.
Then those lips parted for her, framing three simple words.
"Come. Get. Us."
As she looked on a knife flew from his hand with unerring accuracy to strike Caster's familiar head on, sending the screen-and likely the familiar with it-shrieking into static. A beat of silence followed, broken only the stray squawk of noise as the creature tried-and-failed to reconstruct itself. In that fleeting instant Berserker almost dared to hope her fellow Servants-and the rest of the Black Faction alongside them-would simply drop the matter and let them do as they pleased.
It was not to be.
"HA!"
A harsh laugh belted out of Lancer, startling all assembled.
"How amusing!" Rather than greet the interruption with anger as one might expect of their leader, he bellowed out a hearty cackle, mouth stretching in a crazed smile all his own. "Perhaps he isn't a thief at all, but an invader! One who welcomes adversity with open arms! He wouldn't be a worthy opponent if he could die from something like this!"
"Do we have more in the area?" Darnic inquired softly as Lancer continued to shout his adversary's praises.
"A handful." Avicebron relented. "I can ready another group shortly if need be."
"Send a few golems and homunculi then-
"No! Wait until evening." Vlad interjected forcefully before Darnic could finish the command. "We wouldn't want to upset the good people of Trifas now, would we? Still, it would be remiss of us if we didn't send someone to greet the three of them." At some unseen thought, he nodded to himself. "Yes, that settles it, then. I shall take the field myself to meet him! He will rue the day he set foot here! But I cannot do so alone." Without missing a beat, he turned to face the rest of them. Boots clicked sharply against the stone, arms spread wide at his sides.
Frankenstein went rigid.
"Might I have another volunteer?" Vlad inquired.
"Oooh! Me, me, me~!" Rider chirruped! "I volunteer!"
"Hmmph. You seem awfully eager, Astolfo." Celenike frowned.
"Geh! There it is again! That look!" the pinkette flinched and tried to hide in her voluminous cloak. Needless to say she failed spectacularly. "I'm just...eager! To go outside!" When her Master's glare intensified she flailed her arms wildly, nearly brandishing her lance in her haste to escape from that sadistic gaze. "Yes! That's it! No ulterior motives at all! Nope! None!"
...very well."
To Berserker's dismay, Saber of Black stepped forth as well.
"I confess, I am curious about this Berserker of Red. Might I join you?"
"What are you doing, Saber?!" Gordes sputtered. "I gave you no such permission!"
Siegfried, that great silent hero who had spoken so little since his summoning, only inclined his head in respect.
"Respectfully, Master, this is something I wish to do. Please understand. I will not allow harm to befall you in any way."
As the rest of the Black Faction looked on, the portly man's face began to turn an alarming shade of puce. Fran wondered if the round magus would pop from sheer anger. Was such a thing possible? If so, it might prove diverting enough to distract her from her own woes. She rather disliked this fool; a heart of gold he might well have, but it was buried beneath an ego the size of Trifas and a pride thrice as thick. Would it be too much to ask for him to spit himself upon Saber's sword and spare them all the pain of his continued existence?
"You ungrateful familiar-
"Enough!" Darnic snapped, silencing him. "I'll allow it."
"Tch!"
Aaaaaand just like Fran wanted to bash her head against a wall all over again. Rider and her eccentricities aside, two of the Black Faction's most powerful Servants had just declared their intent towards her would-be ally. Legend or no, allies or not, she knew Berserker would be hard-pressed to fend them off. Lancer was the true threat here; if he took it into his head to go after Berserker there was nothing she could do about it. To volunteer for battle now would likely end in rejection No matter how prized their prey might be, their Masters surely wouldn't send more than half their Servants to deal with them.
This...boded most poorly.
"Very well then!" There was a high, wild light to Vlad's gaze, one his Master recognized far too late as...dare he say bloodlust? No, to speak such a thing would surely end with his head on a spike. "Tonight we three shall be joined in battle! Let us take the fight to the invaders, my soldiers!" For better or worse Berserker's little "outing" had little a fire under the normally stoic Servant, one he had no hope of dousing with anything short of a Command Spell. The elder Yggdmillennia groaned aloud, the sound muffled against his palms.
Just like that, his great plan was rendered little more than sand.
How? How had the situation gotten so out of hand?
Then again, who could predict a madman?
(XxXxXx)
"So? How do I look?"
...you're a cruel one, Saber."
"Ha? What the hell're ya talking about?"
A muscle jumped in Naruto's jaw, throbbing alongside three veins in his temple as he gazed at the natural vision beauty strutting before him. An eye twitched, fighting the reflexive urge to slam shut. In that moment his heightened senses were keenly aware of their surroundings; from the thinning yellow paint of a worn wall pressing against his back, to the curious patrons gazing at them, even their less-than-pleasant whispers. But most apt of all were the questing aqua orbs eyes of the blond before him awaiting his answer with more than a touch of impatience.
Still, he mustn't flinch.
Pearly white teeth flashed back at him in an wild grin, devoid of any guile or tact, innocent to a fault. No. Too innocent. Even someone like Mordred couldn't pull off that look without being at least peripherally aware of what they were doing. He wasn't fooled for a moment by Mordred's supposed faux pas; he knew the wrong answer would land him in a world of pain. Hell, the correct response might evoke an equivocal response from Saber. No, to back down now wold not only be an insult to men everywhere, but it would irreparably sunder what remained of his pride. To yield here would be as good as admitting defeat, thereby cementing her victory.
Wasn't it?
She couldn't possibly be that naive...right?
'Gods above, why do you assail me with this temptation?!'
In this moment he was keenly aware of Mordred's eyes upon him. He resisted the urge to facepalm.
After Saber's behest he'd finally caved and purchased an outfit for her. It was...not what he'd expected her to wear.
As he looked on, his companion stretched her arms to the heavens and gave a happy twirl, sending the back of her coat flying about her shoulders.
"Ahhhh! Much better~!" she purred, stretching her limbs to their fullest length. "This is the best! I was way too uncomfortable in that armor! You have no idea!"
"I have some inkling, actually." Naruto groaned.
So focused was he that he nearly missed her reply:
"Your outfit ain't half bad either...
"I'm sorry, what was that?"
"N-Nothing!"
That actually drew a blink from him. He hadn't given his present outfit much thought, clad as he was in a crimson turtleneck and matching black jeans. Something simple, not meant to draw attention. Of course any hope of that had flown right out the window with Mordred's outfit. Part of him silently prayed that would be the end of it. Mordred had already spent half the day simply searching for something to wear, to the point that Atalanta had eventually drifted off in search of their long-awaited meal. Was it too much to ask for this to be over already?
He knew it wouldn't be.
Saber wasn't finished with him yet; as he looked on, she shifted her profile to present one shoulder to him and began kicking awkwardly at a nearby rack of clothes. The sudden change in posture set off alarm bells in Naruto's head, triggering fond memories of a past life he'd all but forgotten. If he hadn't known better he would've thought she was blushing-wait. Keen eyes zeroed in on her face, detecting the faintest flush. Where in blazes had Atalanta gotten off to? He'd gladly give up his knee again for a distraction right now. The last thing he wanted to go was set Mordred off in such an enclosed space, least of all with civilians nearby.
"So?" she pressed, tapping her foot impatiently. "Whaddya think? Does it suit me?"
"Surprisingly."
"The hell does that mean?!"
Damn. He'd seen the trap, still fallen right into it.
What a drag. It was shaping up to be such a nice day, too...
His plan had been a basic one; almost frightful in its simplicity. Unite Saber and Archer by allowing them to think they had the upper hand on him, thereby eliminating the animosity between them. Put up a token struggle to make his protests seem somewhat believable, then allow them to haul him about the town for the day while subtle conducting reconnaissance. After all, battles were oftentimes won or lost based on trust and that very trust had been sorely lacking between the two women. By all rights everything should've gone off without a hitch. Playing the fool always came easily to him ever since his youth-it was a guise he could don and discard as easily as one would a change of clothes.
At some point, however, they'd turned the tables on him.
Clad in a white tube top that exposed her abdomen to the elements and a scarlet leather jacket, Saber seemed the epitome of the rebel that had so defined her legend in the past. Coupled with a shorn pair of rough blue jeans-the latter cut sinfully short well above her knees-and heavy black boots she rather reminded him of some offbeat gangster. Honestly, all she needed now was a bat to complete the ensemble. All told, there was a certain tomboyish charm to her outfit. Every stitch, every thread, everything accentuated the subtle lines of her body in ways that clothing had no business doing. If she was at all chilly, she didn't seem keen on telling him. How anyone could wear that in autumn without freezing was beyond him but he likely chalked up to her own elite class as a Servant.
Therein lie the crux of the matter.
When clad in her heavy armor it was easy to forgot that-despite her protests-that Mordred was a woman. He could poke and prod her to his hearts content, tease her while fully knowing he could escape any retribution that came howling his way. But now...something had shifted in their dynamic and he wasn't sure how to address it. At the end of the day, Servant or no, Naruto was still very much a man and this was...distracting. Not enough to prove dangerous mind you, yet there it was. Not that Mordred was unattractive, mind. He simply knew she'd try to skewer him if ever called her a girl. Try as he might, he couldn't figure out if she was doing this to tease him...or if she was simply that naive when it came to clothing.
Fine.
Mordred wanted to be like that?
Two could play this wicked little game of hers.
He'd likely get his share of lumps for this later, but...
...in the interim, perhaps it was time he had a little fun of his own.
'Screw it.' he decided. 'I'll tease her a little. Not a lie if there's a kernel of truth in it...alright, a very LARGE kernel...
"Means yer fucking gorgeous." Naruto drawled, pushing himself off the wall to face Saber fully. When she failed to retreat in time he advanced further still, until her back was nearly in the very booth from which she'd only just emerged and pressed his forehead against hers until their noses nearly touched. Mordred bristled at once at the sudden invasion of her personal space, but he wasn't yet finished with her. Before she could strike the ancient shinobi leaned further still and snatched the band from her hair, sending the flaxen locks tumbling wildly around her ears. For the pièce de résistance he allowed his lips to brush the outer lobe of her right one teasingly.
"In fact," he breathed huskily, "I think I'm falling in love. Marry me."
Saber's.
Eyes.
Got.
Really.
Big.
Hmm. Naruto hadn't thought it possible for someone-let alone a Servant such as Saber-to turn that shade of pink. Let alone their entire body. While her mouth worked wordlessly, he found he had a moment to reflect on his decision. Not a bad look on her. He'd be lying if he said it wasn't attractive. Thoughts for later, he supposed. In any case he found himself suddenly and wholly preoccupied by her response. Ah, and what a response it was...
BOOT!
'Worth it!'
An armored foot slammed into Naruto's chest with all the explosive force of a bucking bronco to catapult the cackling ninja out of the store. He was still laughing as glass shattered around him, when several female customers start shrieking in falsetto, still laughing as he skidded back-first across the stone street and ripped his turtleneck to red shreds around his shoulders, and still laughing as his Servant attire manifested over the ruined dregs of his clothes. At the garments passing, he felt just a sliver of remorse.
"Aw, man! I liked that outfit!" he groaned. "Why must the good die young?!"
The distant sound of shifting rubble claimed his attention.
Framed in the light of the setting sun, Mordred snarled at him. Honestly, Naruto would've been somewhat worried, were it not for her spinning eyes and the crimson flush adorning her face. All in all? He considered it a win if only to get under the rebellious knight's skin. At least she gave him enough time to climb back to his feet before she started cussing him out. Pity about the sweater, though.
"W-W-W-What the hell, Zombie?! Where did that come from?!"
"What? Afraid of a little honesty?" his grin grew incrementally as steam spouted from her face. "You really are pretty when you're flustered ya know. Oh! Your hair's down too. Not a bad look for a gir-
"ShutupshutupSHADDAP!"
Sure enough an armored fist streaked down at his jaw at breakneck speed. Well. He'd expected her to try and punch his head clear off his shoulders. It really was a good punch all things considered; she'd crossed the distance between the two of them in a blink and attacked with all the speed bellying a Saber class Servant. Such a strike would've rendered an ordinary human-and a few weaker servants on the throne-little more than a red stain against the street. By comparison to her earlier attack however, this strike proved painfully sloppy. And slow. Terribly, woefully slow. Likely had something to do with her flustered state, at that. A gentle nudge to said wrist sent those clenched knuckles careening harmlessly past to spare his face.
Not so the building behind him.
With a devastating crunch the unfortunate home yielded to Mordred's punch like a house of cards; that is to say it absolutely crumbled. Berserker and Saber both, each looked on aghast as the building tumbled down around their ears. Neither sustained any injuries of course-naturally a Servant couldn't be felled by something as base as chunk of falling masonry-but the same couldn't be said for anyone-assuming their luck was truly that abysmal-unfortunate enough to be caught up in the ensuing avalanche of stone. In no time at all, both blondes were left standing amidst the ruins of that once-humble home.
Really, the conclusion was patently obvious.
"Oh, crap."
Seizing her hand in his, Naruto bolted.
"Right, right, that's our cue. Exit stage left!"
"Oi, wait! What if there were people in there, dumbass?!" Mordred squawked!
"Didn't sense anyone! 'Sides, a king does not pay for things that are not her fault! Onward!"
"You absolute ba-HEY!" Saber started as she recognized his palm clasping hers, "Let go of my hand! I'll cut you, ya damn undead!"
"Let me think about that. Nope."
In a sense it felt oddly refreshing to simply sprint away from danger as the common folk did. Either of them could have simply leaped-or in Mordred's case dematerialized-to safety without consequence. Yet they didn't. It could even be said that they chose not to. One was reminded of happier times before their untimely demise, the other simply enjoyed the chance to stretch their legs again. Few paid them any mind-even given their odd state of dress, confounded as they were by the chaos. By the time they'd reached the sun had long since dipped below the horizon, the faintest tongues of flames serving only to illuminated a series of looming clouds in the distance. A dull rumble of thunder chased through the heavens, promising rain.
Rain.
Of course.
Just like that day.
Naruto felt his jaw clench against a particularly unpleasant memory. He shook his head in a vain attempt to ward it off, to no avail. His good mood evaporated on the spot, sullied by images of his past. Though his life had been a full one, there were still some things he'd rather forget-no! Bad Naruto! Focus!
"Well, that was unfortunate." he sighed and began tugging Mordred-who'd fallen oddly silent-down a side street. "Let's find Atalanta before it pours, eh?"
A sharp jerk on his arm hauled him backwards before he made three steps.
"Oi! You trying to tear my arm off or some-
Mordred hadn't released his hand.
"What in blazes...?"
Eyes downcast, eyes shaded by those freed flaxen locks, he couldn't read Sabetrs expression. Nevertheless, her mouth moved as he looked on, mumbling a series of incoherent words that his enhanced senses somehow failed to detect. Teasing her was tempting, but a small voice in his head advised against it. Something told her that if he tried poking that dragon now, he'd lose that finger and an arm besides. Straining his ears, he caught the tail end of her sentence.
...ank you." she muttered.
"Eh? Saber-san? Wanna run that by me aga-ACK?!"
Clunk.
Her head slammed up into his chin, nearly causing the whiskered warrior to bite off his tongue in midspeak.
"Gack! Do you hab any idea how hawd it is to regenerate ma tonguwe?!"
"I said thank you, ya ass! StupudidiotzombiejustDIE!"
"Fuck're you thanking me for?!" he groaned, clutching at his mouth with his free hand.
"The clothes, damnit!" a finger stabbed into his face, momentarily causing him to pause. "A king always pays her debts!"
"But you're technically not a-
"Bitch, I will cut you!"
"Alright, alright!" conceding the point, Naruto raised his free hand to forestall another assault. "I'll stop." his eyes flitted to their palms, her fingers still gripped white-knuckled around his. "Can I have my hand back now? I'm starting to lose circulation ya know...
He expected a sputtering blush of some sort, not the mulish defiance that greeted him.
Instead, Saber's hand clamped down harder still.
"No." she replied.
"Eh?"
"You're not getting your arm back until I get that meal you owe me. So, there!" Preening at what she no doubt believed to be a brilliant plan, Mordred proudly thrust out her chest and grinned. "Consider it payback for all that you've put me through. Just try and break free! I won't let you! You're mine now, Zombie! Ha!" Even a peon would've seen through her blatant bluff.
A beat of awkward silence passed between the two warriors.
...you really wanna hold hands, dont'cha?"
"Idiot! Don't read into it so much!"
'Such a tsundere...
Her earnestness was adorable.
If she knew, she'd gut him on the spot.
"S-So!" coughing into a fist, Saber spun about, eyeing a nearby storefront. "Where's a good place to eat around here after dark?"
"You're asking me?" Naruto openly guffawed at her naivete; he simply couldn't help himself. That pure look in those aqua orbs was simply too much for him to bear any longer. "I thought you knew! Everything's probably closed by now thanks to your little rampage!"
"Noooooo!" she whined. "They've gotta have a place open! I'm friggin' starving!"
"The Knight of Rebellion, ladies and gentlemen! A true glutton!"
"Quiet!" Saber snarled. "Hmm, lets go...this way!"
In the end, he allowed her to have her say.
There was something painfully nostalgic about being led around by the arm all told; even if it was an exercise in futility.
From the moment they'd set foot in Sighisoara, he'd experienced the strangest sensation of being watched. Someone-or something-was surveying them from afar. Another familiar most likely. He'd already dispatched one earlier that morning, but the eerie feeling of eyes boring into his back hadn't abated in the least. Now doubt even now hidden creatures were observing their every action and in turn reporting back to its master. Assuming his pact with Semiramis still held, the likely culprit ought to be Caster of Black. That suited him just fine. While he would've preferred to simply smoke out the enemy Servant and thereby cease this game of hide and seek, he had no doubt that they'd make their move eventually. He had no doubt Archer and Saber were likewise aware of their unwanted admirers, though neither had said a word of it.
Until then he was content to play this mad little game until the bitter end.
"Well, we know the enemy is in Trifas, so we'll need to be...be...
His words trailed off as he spied Atalanta down the street.
By comparison to Mordred her choice of dress was relatively conservative; after all, Saber had basically bullied her into securing an outfit of her own at the outset of their excursion. At the time, he'd thought it a shame. Even in her Servant attire she could've easily passed for human. With a large hat to hide her ears and her tail curled against her back, he might've thought her a normal woman. She was the sort that loathed wearing anything even remotely feminine, yet she'd claimed something all the same. The long, flowing blue dress she'd chosen for herself was so adorable that it physically snapped Naruto's head back and gave him a nosebleed on the spot.
'Ack! Critical hit! Danger! Danger Will Robinson!'
Spying them at last the Archer raised a hand in greeting.
"There you are. I was beginning to think you'd wandered off again." Her verdant gaze took note of their intertwined hands, but if she had any comment on the matter, she didn't remark on it. Instead she cast a distasteful glance at her own figure and the dress adorning it. "I fail to see the purpose of this...outfit. It is stiff. Ungainly. Difficult to move in." With a low growl she dispersed it, discarding the corporeal garment in favor of her true attire. "Do the women of this era fight in such flimsy cloth?"
"Really?" Naruto tilted his head, unable to mask his smile. "That looked kinda fetching on you."
THUNK.
A bolt whistled past his head, causing him to jump and jerk free from Mordred. Sure enough, when he turned to face Atalanta he found himself gazing upon her deadly bow. Ah, the pains of being a Berserker. He'd gone and run his mouth again without thinking. Sometimes that damn Madness Enhancement just wasn't worth it. Curse his lack of inhibition!
"What'd I do?! I only said that side of you was-
A trio of arrows thudded home beside his ear before he could finish.
"Well, shit." the blond gulped out. Don't suppose you'd accept an apology?"
Atalanta knocked a quartet of fresh arrows to her supple bowstring and drew back.
"I'm going to give you a five second head-start, Naruto." she warned. "I suggest you take it."
Honestly, if she hadn't been smiling he would've thought she genuinely intended to kill him! Crazy woman!
"You think you're being cute, don't you?" he groaned, palming his face.
Atalatna's visage didn't waver in the least. "To quote a proud man...bitch, I'm adorable."
Naruto actually blinked. Wait, wait, wait WAIT. "Oh, no, no, no! You did not just Team Four Star me!"
He would have said more, but his senses chose that precise moment to light up like wildfire. No, a wildfire was too tame. This...it was a veritable explosion of prana, a force so great that it momentarily set his senses to reeling. And it was far, far, far closer than he would've liked. Judging by his comrade's suddenly pensive expressions, even that was an understatement.
"They're right behind me, aren't they?"
In response, Mordred grimaced and drew her blade.
Slowly, reluctantly, he turned to face the outskirts of town.
"You're kidding me." he croaked.
Much to his surprise-and utter consternation-they numbered three.
One an effeminate warrior clad in strange armor and cape alike, upon her shoulder cradled a massive lance.
The other was a great brute of a man, silver hair tumbling down armored shoulders, though his chest and back lay exposed. It was this man that set off alarm bells. Rather, the sword in his hand. Though its owner was indeed a great mount of of a man, it was his weapon that truly set him on edge. Every fiber of his being recoiled from the sight of it; no, it was the anathema to his very existence. A peerless Noble Phantasm that would surely obliterate him should it make contact. This, then, must be Saber of Black.
"Oh fuck me! You're telling THAT'S their Saber?!"
In the midst of them both rode a man clad in dark black vestments, astride an equally menacing comparison to his companions he radiated raw power, a sheer sense of presence bellied by his slim frame. One might even call it an aura, an invisible war of sheer will that promised to trample all who would oppose him. As they approached he dismounted and drew a slender lance from the air.
"Greetings, invaders!" his deep, resonant voice carried the distance between them. "I am Vlad the Third! Ruler of this country! Whom do I have the honor of addressing?"
Naruto groaned.
Really, it was all he could think to do.
"You're...not going to let us run away, are you?"
Lancer-for he could only be that class-rewarded him with a grim smile.
"Dibs on the big guy!" Mordred all but purred, drawing her blade. "Need to work out some issues."
Siegfried actually paled.
Atalanta sighed.
"I suppose that leaves me with the pink one."
The enemy Servant blinked, taking aback. "Geh, what's wrong with the color pink?!"
...everything."
"Hey!" Astolfo cried. "Now you're just being mean!"
"I suppose that leaves you with...Lancer, was it?" Archer posited. "Was this your plan all along?"
"Well...
Much to her consternation, the blond actually grimaced. Well, he did have a plan that he'd been saving for a moment like this...it was quite brilliant, even if his allies might not like it. He'd been hoping to lure out one Servant, maybe two, not that absolute MONSTER of a Lancer, certainly not someone possessing enough Prana for an entire country! Nope, nope, nope! Fuck that! He didn't have nearly enough energy to face down a monster like this!
...I hate to be that guy, but...
Sure enough when Atalanta turned she found a vacant pocket of air where Berserker had once stood. Across the way she spied his red cloak, rapidly retreating into the distance. Neither she, nor Mordred were prepared for the response that followed.
"RUN AWAY!"
"Oi, what the hell?!"
Atlanta nearly shot him on the spot.
"Berserker! Come back here you coward!"
To his credit, Naruto actually made it several yards before a wave of what could only be called bloodied stakes thrust themselves between him and escape. Really, it would've been a successful break if he'd been able to build a bit more speed, but there it was. Forced to turn back lest he dash himself on the sudden garrison of stone spears, he, quite suddenly, found himself face to face with the very Servant he'd sought to escape. That said servant was currently poised upon a small mountain of the very spires he'd been seeking to avoid...well...that boded ill. Indeed, those wild eyes no longer held that touch of amusement, but of quiet, simmering wrath.
"Eh, worth a try...?"
The silence proved stifling.
"I...don't suppose you'd be willing to draw up a truce?"
Lancer absolutely twitched. "I'm going to kill you now. Prepare."
Berserker gulped and settled into a low stance. "Yeah, I'd say that's fair...
He'd barely finished even that before his world erupted into a thousand jagged points.
A/N: Yup, got a little bonkers there at the end.
There's gonna be a huge battle next chapter!
Gonna say it now, Mordred is adorable.
Don't tell her I said that.
Weren't expecting an update this soon, were ya?!
I've been delaying Sieg out of guilt really; I feel for the little Homunculus, really, I do. He simply doesn't have a place in this chapter. Hemming him in would be pointless here when we're focused on the Servants and their masters.
Speaking of Masters! I'll say it plain, Celenike and Gordes might meet a different fate this time around...
...it won't be pretty for one of them at the very least.
At this point everyone has their Command Spells and none have wasted them.
Of course I'm not going to see the rest of the homunculi beaten and abused. Worry not, I have plans for them.
Lets clarify something here since one or two people have asked me about it; Atalanta is gradually diverging from her vow to the gods at this time. Yes, GRADUALLY. A certain "event" or meeting a certain"person" may cause her to forsake them entirely. Some fans know what I speak of, but I won't spoil things. Hell, we may even see her become her "Alter" self as things stand. Again, there are many paths-and thereby multiple endings-with this story. It may well be one of the few with an alternative ending at that.
If there's one talent Naruto has-besides the vaunted "talk no jutsu"-its turning enemies into allies...and sometimes more.
Now for the sake of clarity I'll explain the state of things as far as the relationships go.
When I say that, I mean what Naruto thinks of the girls and then their feelings:
Jack= Daughter/Father.
Jean=Master/Servant.
Jeanne= Ally/Enigma.
Mordred= Partner/Potential Love Interest.
Atalanta= Ally/Friend.
Semiramis= Pity/Neutral.
Frankenstein= Sibling/#%& ?
Astolfo= Are You Kidding me?!/WHO THE HELL IS HE?!
At this time Mordred is the only one who's really starting to fall for Naruto; because they've had the most interactions and present. Mentally speaking, they're a lot alike. The relationships will NOT be rushed. Some might take more time than others. Love is rarely instant, bonds are something established through blood and battle, so on and so forth...
...but hate is also a powerful thing.
I'll say it plain, don't expect Naruto to forgive Shirou in this story. In his mind what he's doing is no different from that of Madara. And our boy just can't forgive that. He has to kill him. A far as he's concerned, there's no other way. As Berserker he may have retained some measure of reason alongside his sense of self, but he's forfeited all semblance of restraint; push him too far and he'll obliterate everything. If he was a different class perhaps someone might be able to talk him down from this but now...
Again, ALL the previews you've seen are coming, just not quite yet.
So In the Immortal Words of Atlas...
...Review...Would You Kindly?
And enjoy the previewssss!
Care to guess what I'm thinking?
TELL ME WHICH ONES YOU LIKE AND WHY~!
SURPRISE!
(Potential Previews)
"You would fight unarmed?"
"I get that a lot."
"From one monster to another...
A crimson hand shot up, caging the lance in that clawed palm.
...you're fighting for the wrong side. Legends are what we make of them!"
"Is that all? But what else could be expected of one with such a shoddy Master?"
"Did I strike a nerve?"
Instead he stumbled as a series of stakes inexplicably erupted from his body.
"What...the hell?"
"Sorry to disappoint you, but my Noble Phantasm aren't the stakes alone." Vlad's voice rose over the roaring in his ears. "Rather, it is the very concept of "being skewered by stakes" itself. Therefore!" A fresh wave of spikes slammed through the blond's torso, driving the breath from his body even as his oppressor approached, "As long as you remain inside my territory, you can't escape from my Noble Phantasm!"
Flicking a hand forward, Vlad offered him a rueful smile.
"Lets end this, Berserker of Red!"
Blue eyes blazed red.
"Laaaaaaancer~!"
With a
Swaying drunkenly on his feet, the invader stood.
"Enough! You're going to pay for everything you said about me and my Master...
Lancer frowned. "You can't possibly win."
Berserker grinned. Turned his head, slowly.
"You're missing the point." The words emerged with an eerie calm.
His entire body seemed to pulse with otherworldly radiance, as though lit from within. Gold vied with crimson, wild prana warring for a dominance within his body. While neither triumphed, the tension continued to rise, sending his skin writhing madly. Veins throbbed in his forehead and neck, his appearance becoming more and more feral as Lancer looked on. Indeed, those once gentle red eyes held a decidedly slitted look to them now, wide and nearly euphoric with demented glee. Not just that, his very presence felt unstable, cracks of energy bursting beneath the skin with wild abandon. Surely he wouldn't continue this. Not unless he intended to...
Too late, he realized his intent.
"No!"
"YES!"
The explosion hit a heartbeat later.
"I LIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIVE!"
"You could say that Berserker is a bit of a corrupting influence."
"Can a Servant be corrupted? I wonder about that."
"Er...Jeanne?" Berserker's voice trickled over her shoulder, "Don't freak out. I can fix this. I think."
Ruler frowned as the comb caught in her hair, tangling against a snag.
Her hand came away with strands of ashen woven together.
She blinked slowly. Once. Twice. Thrice.
"What in the world..?"
Mordred's mouth went dry.
"You...!"
"ARRRRRRRRRRRRTHUUUUUR!"
With an earth-rattling yowl, the armored shadow lunged at her!
"What the hell! I'm not Arthur, moron!"
"Legends can be warped. Distorted. In time, they change...
"Another faction...you've gotta be kidding me."
"Kneel."
"Gee, let me think about-NO."
"Its too much. I can't do it. If that is what the gods would ask of me...THEN I FORSAKE THEM!"
"In the end humans always betray each other. Its simply in their nature."
R&R~!
