Nothing could be considered more noble and prestigious than a Holy Grail War. Made by three well-established families, their creation shook the magus world. Creating a way that not only summoned the mightiest of heroes put under one's thrall, but a way to even reach the root itself. Needless to say, many saw the Holy Grail War in good light.
So when word first got out about a supposed Holy Grail War in America he laughed. Not that he was the only one to do so either. Countless in the Association who heard word about it had a good chuckle or two about the rumor that made its way in the Clocktower. For the idea that a Holy Grail War, one that took three powerful lineages to make, to occur in some country with little history in its name, was a ridiculous matter to consider.
After scoffing from that news, the mage went back to his business in the Clocktower, having more important matters to attend to. Pushing aside the silly rumor with no intentions of entertaining it any longer. If anything, the world truly must be mad for anybody to believe such drivel.
"Anfanf. Silver and iron to the origin, gem and the archduke of contracts to the cornerstone, the alighted wind becomes a wall."
How funny fate seemed to say otherwise.
With the most determined of faces, the magus's right hand was raised evenly before him. Magic circuits flooding with mana as his eyes fixated itself onto the magic circle in front of him. Any thoughts of laughing like before were long gone, replaced with words that were turned into a chant.
The engraved magic circle lit up in response to his words, his resolve. Proof that this supposed Holy Grail War was not false as all had believed before. That it was real. A chance of the lifetime that will ultimately decide the future of his stagnating lineage, even himself.
Eyes wandered to the ground right next to him as he continued chanting. A small object that would decide it all for him. The very key to his victory.
"The gates in the four directions close. Coming from the crown the three forked roads that lead to the kingdom circulate." Almost done with the summoning chant, he just a few more versus and everything will be decided then and there.
'And if I indeed summon that Servant,' the magus thought, not once interrupting his chant. 'Then nothing will stop me.'
To think that just days prior he had shaked his head at the notion of the Holy Grail War occuring in America. Passing it off as nonsense. Now, here he was, about to join when all was said and done. Inside a cave outside the city to summon a Heroic Spirit to fight on his behalf. The best Heroic Spirit, might he add.
"Repeat every five times. Fill. Fill. Fill. Fill. Fill." Already the light was at its peak, where feelings of excitement went down his spine. His right hand shaking in anticipation itself. "I announce - in accordance with the approach of the Holy Grail -!" Memories flashed before the magus's eyes. Of everything that led to this moment.
So what if this war was just an imitation? So what if the battle took place in a country of small significance. As long as it produced results, it didn't matter. These Command Seals are proof that it was real.
'And now,' with great light reaching its peak, blinding him, the magus' voice rose as he gave his final words. "If you abide by this feeling, this reason, then answer."
A great pressure assaulted the magus as he finished the verse. All of his five senses tinged by the mana released from the summoning he made. With a shout, the magus readied himself as the light began to dwindle.
To at long last unveil none other than the King of Her-
"Huh. Where am I?" Whatever thoughts the magus had been about to say were tossed out the window when, standing before the magus obliviously, was the most ruffian person he's ever seen. What should have been someone radiant was instead some man with wrinkled clothes, a badly torn cape and an oversized sword.
It also didn't take long for the magus' nose to wrinkle, where he realized that he was smelling alcohol of all things coming from the man. Silently, the magus then blinked.
"Hm?" The man, the Servant, looked at the magus when he realized he wasn't alone in here. Observing the silent man who was saying nothing, just looking at him like some weirdo. Did he want something? The Servant then looked down in his own hands, a flask in one of them. Looking at the magus, with a guess what the magus wanted, the Servant said, "I'm not sharing." then proceed to drink from the flask and chuckle.
Leaving the magus to only stare and say but one thing. "...eh?"
It took a moment for the magus' mind to finally start working again, snapping out of the shock he felt from earlier. To realize what he was seeing was indeed real and not a hallucination. A farce as one might assume.
That also meant instead of summoning the greatest of Heroic Spirits, the King of Heroes, all the magus was seeing was some ordinary looking man in modern-looking clothes. Something that couldn't be happening. The ritual had been done right… Right?
'I used the key my ancestors staked their life on. Double-checked my own work.' The Magus's mind started racing in his head. Attempting to find a reason for all of this. By all accounts the magus's summoning should have worked. The King of Heroes should be here before him. Kneeling before his Master. Him!
Instead…
"What the hell is this!?" The magus found himself shouting, enraged.
"Woah, there!" Raising his hands, including the flask, the Servant looked surprised by the sudden shouting. Clearly not expecting the guy in front of him to go from quiet to angry for no reason at all. "What are you shouting for buddy?"
"I am not your buddy, you damn tool!" He sacrificed quite a bit to get this far. From killing his own son and wife, to all his resources allocated to support him in the war. Even used the key as a guarantee catalyst for immediate victory! But now-!
"...ouch?" As for the Servant, they seemed more confused than offended. Clearly uncertain on what was even going on. Though he soon frowned when he looked around. "Hold on a second, how am I even her-" Then stopped when a sudden realization hit him. Or in this case, a mass of information being, quite literally, shoved into his very mind.
The Holy Grail, even one as anomalous compared to previous, was still capable of giving Servants the knowledge Servants needed whenever summoned. One the Servant now knew, understanding what was going on.
"Whu…" He then looked at his weapon and concentrated on it for a moment. Staring at it intently. It vanished into particles, making him flinch. "...that's new."
"Ughhhh." As for the magus, he merely cursed at his new circumstances. Becoming incensed at what should have been an absolute victory, instead was replaced with uncertainty and great loss.
'This can't be. This can't even be happening.' Yet it was. Clutching his face, the magus became uncertain of his victory in this war, his chances of overcoming the competition. For without the great King of Heroes, he was left with some fool who didn't look remotely strong. One who smelled of beer and wore a childish cape.
"Hey. Bud?" Just listening to this man infuriated him further, especially with that tone of his. He wasn't his friend but his Master. As such, he should be giving him the respect he deserved.
It was best the magus made the distinction between them clear. Declaring, "Rather mouthy for a tool."
"Excuse me?" The Servant's voice now sounded irritated at the tone the magus spoke in. Raising a single brow in response.
"You heard me." The magus shot back. Standing straight to show he meant business."In fact, let me make this clear, Servant." The word came out more as a sneer than of respect. Slowly looking up, with contempt in his eyes, the magus decided to make his declaration crystal clear. Even if this wasn't the King of Heroes, a tool is a tool, no matter what its quality is. While things weren't going to plan, the magus won't give up now. He put everything into this war.
Everything!
An error in Heroic Spirits won't prevent him from continuing on either. So, putting on a grin, intent on showing the Servant's place, the magus spoke in both confidence and arrogance, stating aloud, "You are but a Heroic Spirit, a tool. Something to be used, not be friends with. As for me, yes," The magus slowly raised his right hand as proof of his position.
?" With the Servant then raising another brow, before looking surprised.
"I am your Mas-" the smell of burning flesh then hit the magus's nose before he finished speaking. Twitching, the magus then looked down for a moment, curious. Where instead of seeing his right arm with Command Seals, all he saw was a stump that burnt like bad jerky.
"Ah." This realization was sudden as if it were bringing forth a revelation to him. One that caused the magus to realize two things. Where not only he had been attacked-
"Ahhhh!"
-but was now in great pain.
Screaming, the magus knelt and clutched his stump, his screech echoing across the cavern walls.
All while his Servant, Archer, merely looked uncertain on what to do. A man in his position should be helping after all, even if the dude was a jerk. Plus, he got the feeling it was his own…bad luck that caused this.
'Hm, isn't that…' But instead of running towards the man, his Master, to help, Archer didn't bother doing so. "Oh." Because he heard something coming into this room. Lifting his sword in that direction, Archer asked aloud, "I don't suppose you were the one that did that?"
Gesturing to his Master, who was slowly gaining awareness, the magus turned where both he and Archer heard a small voice coming from the darkness. "I merely wished to prevent the further desecration of this land by…those with ill intent."
Archer tilted his head, both at what he heard and because the voice sounded so…young. Though it made sense when, entering the lit cave room the two men were in, a small young girl in a white dress appeared before them.
'This…?' For the magus, this shouldn't have been possible. Such a small child somehow entered his own bounded field. Impossible!
"What's a kid doing here?" The magus then heard his Servant mutter, looking at how he was foolishly lowering his weapon. Was he inept!? It was clear as day that this child was suspicious, a potential threat. They should be killing her now.
"I would ask if you do not consider me a mere child." The girl then spoke, having clearly heard Archer's whisper. Speaking in a tone befitting an adult that someone her age. "As the head of my clan, I am not an ordinary child." It was then the magus and Archer then saw it, what was in her hand.
"!" The magus's own right hand.
Looking a bit disturbed, Archer grimaced at the sight. He then opened his mouth, most likely to ask the girl a question.
"Kill her!" Before he could say anything, his Master spoke on his behalf. Fury in the magus' eyes, he screamed like a beast. Shouting, "What are you waiting for, kill the girl!"
Archer looked at the man, his Master.
"Hell no." And spoke seriously for the first time, without a hint of display that he would even follow his Master's own command.
"Wha-?!"
"You heard him." The girl then spoke, calm as ever without a hint of emotion leaking from her voice. Telling the magus, "If that is his wish, then in turn, I shall do nothing to you. Please withdraw."
It wasn't a question but a demand. Where the way she looked at him, even his own Servant, gazed as if he were nothing. Like he was lesser than the two of them. The girl being the worst offender of them all.
Gritting his teeth, the magus felt much humiliation course through him. Rage, even. All directed at one person. "You." His left hand began burning. Not from being cut off, but from releasing much of his stored cursed, rage, and shock into a dark purple orb into his palm.
Archer, noticing this, instantly put two and two together. Realizing what the bastard was about to do.
"Hey, stop it!" He was ready to move, his own sword drawn out.
But it was already too late.
The magus's mana running wild, he leapt and prepared to end the girl's life for daring to insult him. He can take back his right hand from her corpse, reattach it, and command that lowly Servant to know his place. With a roar befitting that of an animal rather than a human, the magus resolved to tear the girl apart.
"Die!" His hand moved down, the orb ready to be unleashed.
Only for a great flame to appear right in front of the magus before he could even throw it.
"...eh?" No incantation? No chanting? The most he saw was her moving her lips just a little bit. But, other than that, the flame just…appeared like so. In the few seconds before the flames came to him, the magus then had a horrible realization. That he was going to die then and there in this great blazing fire. One that eagerly rushed at him, with the magus only capable of thinking how unfair this all was. The fire soon licked at his skin which immediately began to burn-
"The things I do for people. Even assholes.." Only to be kicked into the nearest cavern wall without question, his head being slammed hard enough to knock him out. In that moment, before the magus even realized what was going on, he fell unconscious from the impact.
"Yikes, that is hot! Oof." Which left only two people awake and aware, with the flames that would have consumed the man now gone, leaving just Archer to wave his hand from nearly experiencing the heat, sighing while the girl actually looked confused for once. Her perfect mask breaking.
"Why?" It then went away, returned to her neutral expression, as she directed her question to Archer. Who had, for some reason, saved the very man who had tried to kill her, who she tried to kill. He shouldn't even have a reason to do so.
Turning to her, he gave her his answer. "Because kids shouldn't be killing at that kind of age."
At his statement the girl merely blinked. Like she didn't even understand what he was trying to say. "Man, just like Raven." The Servant muttered while looking at his so-called Master's body, narrowing his eyes. "Still, can't say I really blame you for that, even if it was overkill." The man just tried to kill a small girl, who was even letting him go.
A bastard to the very end.
"So, what now, kid?" Turning back, ignoring the guy, Archer took out his flask again and chugged it down. Once done, he said, "Now that my 'Master' is dealt with, should I just leave here or something?"
"You're asking me?" The girl asked incredulously.
"Well, can't say I feel proud asking a little girl all this. But I was just summoned a while ago, with no clue to where I am. Hell, all I was told by this Grail thingie that I was made to serve my Master and fight against a bunch of strangers on their behalf. So, yeah, I'm a little lost." With no clue what his next move should even be.
"..." The girl stayed silent, pondering.
She had come because her clan had reported that a magus had been attempting to summon a Servant on their land. Worse, it would be someone of great renown, forced to serve one that is unworthy. Yet, here in this place and time, all she saw was…one who felt no different from a common man.
Of course, a Servant was a Servant, no matter their appearance. He was at least someone of renown who managed to make it into the Throne of Heroes, so certainly someone strong. Not to mention he held a sword of unusual style, meaning he must have been some kind of swordsman. Yet she didn't know who he was, other than a man who was willing to save someone as vulgar as the man that summoned him, all for the sake that a child shouldn't kill.
'What a strange man.' Standing straight, the girl then looked at the hand she severed from the magus…and tossed it away.
The Command Seals on it are now gone, now put in her hand. An action Qrow soon realized as with the Grail having informed him of these Command Seals and their purpose.
"I wish to ask you for a favor. One you may refuse if you wish." Speaking in a formal tone, the girl asked, "Will you be my Servant?" Perhaps if this man had been anybody else, she would be more subservient in the way she asked. But in his case, well, again, he didn't appear too different from an average man. Not to mention this could be her chance to do what her clan desired.
A way to rid the magi and people of their once precious land. And what better way to do so than to win in this Holy Grail War.
As for Archer, one who had been summoned in a way he never expected, let aside asked for, all he could do was one thing. "Hehe." Chuckle as he gave a small yawn and smile. "Sure, why not." Materializing his sword, Qrow hefted it on his shoulder and replied, "Besides, can't let a kid just get in a fight without back-up."
The girl then frowned, not liking how she was constantly being referred to as a kid. She was a leader of her clan, trained specifically for this Holy Grail War. Being treated as if she was a child was just a tad…annoying.
Still, he accepted her call, which she accepted. As such, she decided to give Servant her identity. "Tine. Tine Chelc."
"Qrow. Qrow Branwen." Archer gave his own identity away, smirking. "It'll be nice working with ya, kid." Holding his hand out, ready to shake his new Master's hand.
Only to be left hanging as Tine walked right past him without another word. Ouch.
"...Okay, then." So the kid had standards. Plus, a whiff of his hand showed he did kinda smell. Alright, that's fair. Best not to let the kid get a smell of that anyway.
Regardless, as he followed her, Qrow briefly pondered a bit on just who he would be facing in this Holy Grail War, now that he's sticking around longer than expected. The Grail-thingie told him he would be facing si-wait-five other Servants that all came from history itself.
Being who managed to leave a mark on history itself. Remembered by the masses and accepted into the Throne of Heroes. A grand honor one might even say.
Which caused Qrow to be very confused since he wasn't even sure how he's a Heroic Spirit of all people. I mean, he didn't think he was all that special. Let aside tough enough to duke it out in a freakin death match without his permission.
"Hah. Just my luck." Tapping his shoulder with Harbinger, he then put it in a type of compact form and attacked it to his back for easier carry. To think, from a guy who fought Grimm, now he had to fight a bunch of super-powered Heroic Spirits in another world while serving a little girl who was willing to kill. Raven would totally laugh at him.
Still, Qrow couldn't deny the…opportunity all this invoked. Memories of them, of the people he knew, came to mind. Along with the constant thoughts of what he could have done differently to change all of that, or more importantly, of he could just wish it all away.
"...damn." Seems Qrow really was going to participate after all. The chance to change the past was just too tempting to just let go. Granted, he had no idea how far someone like him would go in this deathmatch, but he should at least try. All he had to do was deal with the five other Servants and hope they just weren't too strong.
Shame that knowing his luck, they would all be nightmares to face. Still, he wondered if it'd be anybody he knew. "Heh. Nah!"
I mean, what were the chances of that? Even his luck wasn't that bad.
Breathing in that wonderful air, Flat Escardos put both hands on his hips. With a smile, he looked up at the sky where (in his mind) he saw his wonderful teacher, giving him a thumbs up and grinning, with a wink to boot.
"I won't let you down, teacher." Flat vowed to his (imaginative) teacher, knowing that Sir El Melloi II was cheering him on from the Clock Tower itself. Giving him his full support considering he gave him a neat relic to summon his very own Servant. How awesome was that!
'Although,' Flat thought, continuing to smile. 'Who'd have guessed the relic teacher gave me would summon that kind of Servant.' A Berserker to boot.
Before Flat could continue this line of thought, he heard a voice right by him.
"Oh. What a cutie doggie you have there." Outside in the park, with a brightening smile, a young woman and her female companion cooed at the small fluffy dog that barked at them. A small animal that stood next to Flat as he was technically its owner. "What's his name?"
"No idea." Flat said when asked. "He just calls himself the Hound." The little doggie barked further, as if irritant.
"Well, it's a good name for a doggie that wants to be big and strong. Isn't that right boy?" The woman then leaned down and made an attempt to snuggle the dog, or at least pet it with her hand. Making direct contact and making an effort to feel its soft luscious fur.
"Oh." Then blinked in surprise, spreading her hands on the fur while feeling the strange texture of it. "It feels…watery?"
"He just got a bath." Flat giggled. "He's an American Eskimo Dog, got him cleaned up recently. Going to take him to meet others just like him." A competition to the death.
"Well, isn't that cute." The girl leaned her face closer. "What a cutie you are. Aren't you? Aren't you?" As the woman cooed the little doggie turned its head onwards Flat. It then growled.
"Ah. He likes you." Flat said as he enjoyed the scene before him.
That being, the young girls who petted the 'small' dog was, in truth, a massive 'canine' that's larger than the average child. At least over a meter tall. One where, instead of fur, it had a rippling tar-like body which dripped on the occasion, spiky bone armor across its back, no eyes, and was the complete opposite of cute.
But thanks to his magecraft, all anyone saw was a cute puppy that growled adorably. No need to freak people out after all. Let them see what they want while hearing cute growls.
"I will maul you if this goes on any longer." Oh, though said growls were in truth, violent threats directly sent into Flat's head. That was neat, since Flat thought for sure his Servant couldn't even talk. Man this Holy Grail War was exciting.
Feeling so encouraged, Flat just felt happy that Sir El-Melloi II allowed him to join the Holy Grail War in Snowfield with his blessings. He was certain he and Berserker could win this Holy Grail War in his honor.
"I'm not kidding. I will devour you if you let this continue on." If he lived long enough that is.
Demonic Beasts of varying size and forms relentlessly assaulting humanity.
A broken moon than hung in the sky as if it were normal.
Men and women wielding strange weapons that could change forms in an instant.
A tree of great epic proportions.
"Well...kuh…isn't this interesting." With a intrigued tone, Jester grinned as he slowly got up with a wet cough. Overlooking the surrounding area as he gazed upon everybody around him
On the ground, groaning, all his loyal followers were shown to be heavily injured. They had bruises, broken bones, limbs that had been shattered or torn off outright. A few coughed heavily while whimpering in pain while others had been permanently silenced. Hm, yes. It seems this Holy Grail War has proven to be more exciting than expected.
After all, his hollow smile that never reached his eyes, had never before felt so genuine when not only did he summon something else that wasn't a member of the Hassan, but went outright rouge in an instant.
"Heheha! That certainly came out of nowhere." As he balanced himself, Jester couldn't help but touch his torso, where blood seeped from his own wound.
Wearing bright colors such as pink, brown and white, with a bowler hat on her head, immediately after he finished his summoning, in an instant the girl called upon countless individuals from nowhere. An old man, a soldier, a girl in a red hood, even a man with a scorpion tail. Then, without even being the chance to ask who she was, all the individuals attacked without even hesitating.
Fast. Brutal. Efficient. They used guns, lances, a cane, even their own fists. Jester hadn't been spared, ending up on the ground like the rest of his men. The scorpion individual having somehow disrupted the prepared barriers he made for himself. Leading to his current situation now.
"This is certainly a strange turn of events." Yet all Jester could do was smile, as he felt an emotion he hadn't thought he'd ever feel. Joy. Already the Holy Grail War was proving to have countless surprises, which included his own maiming.
Certainly he could easily recover this body's form, as it was only a mortal wound with slashed ribs and the like. But the attack had been so swift and savage, that Jester felt like he just had to change forms regardless. So, with the reveal of his torso with six tattooed styled orbs, Jester pushed one of them like pushing a button.
"That Servant," All while Jester, as he changed forms, thought of the Servant from before. Recalling the visions he saw, a benefit as a Maste to see through his own Servants' memories due to the connections between them. There were limits, but he saw enough. Where he witnessed many interesting things from the few memories he could discern.
If the Servant was mad, then it's likely that she wasn't even part of proper human history at all.
"Aha-haha-ahahaha!" A true laughter escaped Jester's lips as he finished transforming. Becoming a young man with blonde hair, with the same smile he had before his transformation. "Now this is fun!" Here he thought he would use this chance to awaken the Spider, to rid this dull world from existence.
"But this is better!" Not anymore. While the idea of awakening the spider was still there, he could use this Holy Grail War as a chance to see if the girl could entertain him more. Find her and break her down to see if she could provide more to him than expected.
"And I may have to be brutal while doing so." Jester said aloud while laughing, leaving the bodies of his followers behind. It seems today truly was a good day after all.
From a bullheaded would-be dictator and a witch that wanted the world to end, there was no denying his servitude under his previous employees had been…less than ideal. More so considering he was killed under one of them.
"And just about done." Things were different though. Much different. With a rather smug grin, two hands finished inserting the last red vial into the storage tank with a click heard, indicating it was safely inserted. Wiping his hands, footsteps were heard suggesting someone was inside.
"Ah," His new employer. Speaking aloud, the man asked, "Come to see the finished product?"
"I have." With a stern voice, his employer, the chief police chief of Snowfield, gave a look that reminded the summoned Servant of another certain man before he fell into paranoia. "Is it done?"
"Hm. What do you think?" Lifting his hand, a single ring among many glew brightly. The lights of the underground basement, his workshop, suddenly turned on automatically, lighting the entire area which had very little compared to before.
Where the chief of police gazed expectantly as he saw it all.
Lined up against the walls were massive machines that shouldn't even be possible by the current modern world's standards, with weapons fueled by an unknown substance like that of mystery. The only place that may have such creations would be the Atlas Institute, though they certainly weren't unveiling their inventions anytime soon.
As such, Orlando Reeve could only find himself impressed by this set of weapons all around him. Walking to one of the shelves, Orlando grabbed a firearm and tested its weight.
"Care to give it a go?" His Servant, Caster, asked as he then made a motion with his fingers. One of the panels on the ground slid to the side and coming up was a test dummy. Knowing what Caster meant, Orlando hefted his weapon, aimed, then fired.
The test dummy was torn apart with whatever remained of it covered in ice.
"Satisfied." Came Caster's question, giving a smug grin. Orlando looked at him and simply nodded. Yes, this partnership would do quite well. For both of them.
They say not all fairy tales end happily ever after. Perhaps the princess might find the prince, or perhaps they might just find themselves sleeping forever. In the end, some tales just had a tragic end to them.
"It's done!" The scent of sweets and warm milk changed all that, where the smell of such delicacies could rouse even a heavy sleeper. The kitchen bustled with activity as two adults eagerly put the finishing touches to the sweets being made.
The finishing touches were done when the kitchen timer rang, where the two eager parents went to the oven and together, took out the finished cake.
"It's good to eat!" The adult male said, having a wide smile as he then called out to someone in the living room. "Sweetie, you'll soon get your wish. A nice meal with mom and dad. Isn't that right, pumpkin?"
"Of course, dear." The adult woman, the mother, nodded. "Why, this is what our dear sweetie deserves." Going to the shelf, the woman then took out a box that was wrapped in bright colors and a bow on top. A present. "After all, she finally got out of that hospital. This deserves a celebration!"
Excited giggling is heard followed by eager footsteps. Entering the kitchen, someone small and young entered, where her eyes lit up as she smiled like the sun. Her heart blooming with joy and love. "Yay! Cake!"
With her mouth hungry for deserts.
"That's right." The father grinned as he opened a drawer to take out some forks. "Just wait a few more minutes and the cake will be ready to eat."
"Then we can open all your presents." Lifting the box, the mother put them with a bunch of other presents. All of varying shapes and sizes, just waiting to be opened up. The young girl squealed as she picked one of them up. Oh, she couldn't wait.
"Thank you!" She told her parents, the ones she loved most, who smiled over her.
"Of course Tsubaki." The two replied at the same time. "It's what you deserve." With their eyes wide all while giving off a cyan line flare around them as they spoke. Whatever purpose they had before now changed for the better.
All while the young girl, Tsubaki, then turned around and looked in a nearby mirror. "And thank you as well Mr. Cat." She spoke to her reflection. "I wouldn't be awake and having fun with mommy and daddy if it weren't for you."
Her reflection stayed the same, only showing her.
"Oh, but of course, my dear friend." Only for the 'reflection' to change, with a light blue sclera and white pupils replacing the girl's soft colored brown ones, with her teeth becoming spikey and jagged. "Just remember, let me have fun outside and do a little 'playtime', and consider us even." said the reflection.
"Sure!" Tsubaki replied with no hint of deceit. And why wouldn't she? It was best to always help out a friend.
When one thought of a forest, one would assume silence would reign, with only the chipper of small animals and insects heard all around. The natural sounds of nature itself.
Instead, on this night, the sounds of munching could be heard, echoing across the forest. An audible swallow later heard, replacing the sounds of what should have been a successful summoning for the Holy Grail War.
"U…uhhh." Followed by the desperate death mewls of the magus who attempted the summoning in the first place. Capable of only croaking desperately in despair. What little life he had left spent in what could only be described as bizarre, emptiness even, as all he was was being consumed. His eyes twitched as the pupils looked back and forth for salvation that couldn't be found.
All he saw was one of the reasons he's in this predicament in the first place. The traitor themself. The one who stole what should have been his. Who bit the very hand that fed him after all he'd done for them.
With his stolen Command Seals on it, the healed mutt that should be dead rested peacefully as if it were never injured in the first place. Slumbering away with a soft snore, at utter peace. Completely unaware of the current state its former master was even in…
Crunch.
Or the fact that he was being eaten alive.
Lying on the ground like some worm, the magus felt himself losing everything. His legs were gone, chunks of flesh had been removed, now his fingers were being chewed on. Yet what made this more horrifying was that the one that did this wasn't even physically touching him, with a lack of bleeding somehow making it worse. He should have been dead by now, already put out of his misery.
And that made the magus even more fearful, as he felt himself slipping away. It wasn't just his body, but it felt as if everything that was him was vanishing away with each 'bite'.. Body, mind, even his own soul! Purged from existence itself. One might even say…
Destroyed.
He had come to this war with the intention of summoning a God.
Now, he was just being eaten alive by whatever his mangy mutt summoned. His attempts at having it serve him failed when he tried to kill the mutt…and was now on his way of being killed off for real. With his last thoughts being that the 'thing' had just finished his arms…
…and went straight for the head.
…
…
'And here I thought things were going so well.' With a nervous grimace, Faldeus gulped slightly as he motioned for his men to walk away. To not even make a peep. Noting their shaking hands and the gut feeling that scolded Faldeus for tempting fate itself.
To think, the night had gone without a hitch. His good teacher's puppet had been killed, forcing the real man himself to run off to the Clocktower with the warning given and sent. The pieces had been put in place, surveillance systems all green. Not to mention all the dummies gathered for this imitation Holy Grail War had been playing their roles wonderfully.
Sure there were some problems, especially with the anomalies this Holy Grail War was producing, alongside unknown variables. But they weren't anything that couldn't be handled as far as Faldeus was concerned.
The chewing sounds the Servant of the wolf summoned begged to differ. Its presence, its aura…it wasn't a normal Servant, yet seemed so innocent for that matter. Why, the glimpse he caught of it revealed a rather adorable little purple lamb. Looking as if it couldn't even hurt a fly. The fact the idiot who tried to cheat the system was gone from this world through being 'eaten' said otherwise.
'Well…no matter.' Things were looking less than okay, but this shouldn't stop the war from proceeding as planned. If anything, these unknown variables might even help things out as the war moved along.
So long as Faldeus did his part, he was certain everything would be okay.
Sure Faldeus, you think that.
This idea has been festering in my mind for a long while. Of Remnant characters who find themselves forced in a Holy Grail War for some reason where they must fight to the death. Where I'm quite certain you'll recognize some of these faces shown.
Regardless, I hope you enjoyed the chapter.
Tiné Chelc - Servant Archer: Qrow Brawen