Chapter Three: What We Would Do For The Ones We Love
"Heed my words, my will creates your body, and your sword creates my destiny. If you would seek the Holy Grail, and obey my will and reason, then answer my summons."
The words echoed a short ways about within the dark structure. Most of the abandoned building was taken up by large metal shelves that had sat unused for decades, but a large space had been cleared away for the ritual taking within. A single figure stood before a large magecraft circle, reciting the incantation meant to summon a Servant. It was impossible to tell who or what the figure was, for they wore a large black cloak over a suit of black combat armor that covered their entire body. A featureless black helmet completed the ensemble, from which a stream of heavily distorted words poured forth to recite the spell.
"I hereby swear, that I shall be all that is Good in the World, and that I shall defeat all Evil in the World.
Seventh Heaven, clad in the three great words of power. Come forth from the Circle of Binding, Guardians of the Scales."
A mighty flash erupted from the circle, but the figure who stood before it gave no sign of discomfort even as light and smoke poured forth before them. It did not take long before the results could be seen.
Two figures knelt within the circle. The first woman was clad in a mixture of an alluring black dress and indigo mythril armor. Her hands were clutched together before her face, framed by startling white-green tresses. Her eyes, closed in prayer or in grief, fluttered open to unveil a gorgeous shade of lavender. At her side lay a mighty spear with silver as its shaft and an enormous blade of amethyst shade.
The second figure was a girl, much younger than the first, but something in the lines of her face suggested pain and suffering had forced an early growth upon her. She wore black pants with purple highlights and a white and purple dress shirt. Her hair seemed to cascade over her back in an ebony wave. She stared forward unblinking, her eyes of a pale purple shade giving away none of her inner thoughts. On her arm was a small grey shield with a strange design reminiscent of clockwork. The back of her hand was adorned with a small purple gem.
After a moment to affirm the situation, the Master surveying their results nodded and declared, as if privately reassuring themselves: "It worked…"
"Indeed," the green-haired spearwoman affirmed. "I take it you are the one who summoned us?"
" And intentionally summoned us both?" the girl with the shield inquired. "You were expecting two Servants?"
"That's right. I received good intelligence that this war would have double the number of Servants present," the mask-wearing Master replied. "I assume the Holy Grail itself kept the two of you apprised?"
"Yes, we received the same message as the other Servants. Two Servants on each team, with the surviving trio receiving the Holy Grail," the spearwoman said with a nod. "In this Holy Grail War, I am Servant Lancer."
"I am Assassin X," the shield-bearing girl deck brusquely, "Who are you?"
"My identity is not something I intend to share with you at this time," the Master dismissed coldly. "I may provide it to you at a later date."
"You would have us serve an enigma, whose name, face and gender we know nothing of?" Assassin X demanded. "What assurances do you provide that you won't betray us, and simply claim the Grail for yourself?"
"None whatsoever," the Master replied in blunt, cold fashion, "just as you have not provided any to me. But I'm sure you're both familiar with these," they declared as they held up their hands, where two sigil could be seen glowing.
The two Servants tended, but made no other move. "Command Seals," Lancer noted.
"Correct," the Master replied, "the proof of our current contracts. If you know what they are and how they work, you know I could use these to empower the two of you to heights even greater than your current limits, likely allowing you to decimate the opposition. Or, I could use them to force you to do anything I tell you to. Including killing yourselves."
The silence within the warehouse was oppressive, the tension so thick a chainsaw would be needed to cut through it. No one dared so much as twitch…until the Master allowed the Seals on their hands to dim, and the Servants let out a minuscule sigh.
"I could force your obedience, but to tell truth, I don't want to." For an instant, the cloaked figure seemed to almost hunch in on themselves, then they drew themselves up to their full height, and declared:
"I'll give you my word that so long as the two of you help me claim the Grail, I will help you grant your own desires. I imagine the oath of someone who won't reveal their true identity is worth little, but there it is…"
Before the pair of Heroic Spirits could offer their reply, the near silent atmosphere of the warehouse was at last broken with the sound of a window shattering. A figure came hurtling down, a large blade in hand, ready to bring it crashing down on the Master's head.
Bang! A dull roar cracked out as the sword-bearing mook was sent plummeting unceremoniously to earth. Assassin X had pulled out a pistol of all things (one the Master recognized as a Desert Eagle) and had capped the unlucky fool who attacked first before either of the others could even respond.
Though even then, dozens more were pouring in from virtually every corner.
"Looks like you were followed," she noted dryly.
"Hmm, guess I'm not the only one who valued this place for its solitude," the Master retorted even as she drew forth a pair of tonfas to engage them.
"If the two of you would be so inclined, try not to too many of them, especially those likely acting as officers," the Master instructed. "I want to know who sent them and why."
"Understood," the two warriors reborn replied. The three of them stepped forward and the battle began.
Well, perhaps "battle" was a tad bit generous. For the hundred odd mages, each bearing a Mystic Code, a personal tool through which to channel their fearsome magecraft, to this ravenous horde bearing down on them…
It was nothing less than a one-sided beatdown .
No matter how many of them came charging forward to crush the trio, they could not so much as touch a hair on their heads. The Master, even as the only human to stand against the mob, easily smacked aside every hapless fool who made the mistake of rushing after them with their tonfas, when they didn't forego the weapons entirely and just bash the poor saps with their fists and feet.
The Servants meanwhile, were as forces of nature unto themselves. With every swing of Lancer's immense spear, at least three mages were sent flying across the warehouse. In desperation, a veritable hailstorm of magecraft attacks was unleashed to drown the woman in the sheer volume of attacks. They might as well have been raindrops, either swatted aside beautifully with yet another twirl of her polearm, or it simply washed over her like so much water. Fire spells in particular seemed insultingly simple for her to brush aside, though she'd never have let them know. Lancer bore the same expression halfway between stoic obedience and withdrawn remorse no matter how she flitted about, either knocking them to the ground gasping like fish or cutting them down as quickly and painlessly as possible. Yet for all her own inhuman speed…
She still paled in comparison to Assassin X, who truly seemed to be a hundred different locations at once. Every second the mages or the Master thought they'd caught a glimpse of her, she was already elsewhere. The Desert Eagle she'd unveiled from before was evidently not the only firearm she'd been concealing.
The young girl had unveiled an assault rifle and a shotgun in short order, and even now-was that a damn grenade she was tossing?!
"Close your eyes," she instructed over the mental link established between all Masters and Servants. Her two Allie's did so, and great flash of light and sound roared beyond their eyelids to leave the remaining enemies staggering in pain and disarray.
And just like that, it was over. The one hundred mage army, that should have been enough to decimate a small country, had been reduced to less than half their number by three people, none of whom had the decency to even look slightly out of breath. The remaining survivors were corralled by Lancer, while a pair who had fingered as the ringleaders were held at gunpoint by Assassin X, who remained expressionless as the Master drew near.
"Well, looks like you lot went in half-cocked and completely unprepared." The two men, both terrified into shaking uncontrollably by the sheer power the Servants had displayed, did not reply. A moment later, the reinforced boot of the Master came crashing down onto one unlucky idiot's kneecap with an ugly crack. He howled in agony as he cradled his wounded limb.
"Who sent you?" the Master demanded.
"We don't know," the mage replied weakly.
"Really?" the Master replied with a note of incredulity. They turned and nodded to Assassin X, and in an instant the Desert Eagle was back out and pointed right between the rapidly panicking thug's eyes.
"I swear! I swear we don't know, the bastard hired us anonymously!!!"
"To what end?" the Master demanded, motioning as they did for Assassin X to ease up however slightly. "To steal my Command Seals?"
"No, that's the screwy part," the magus denied. "He wanted us to…test you or some crap, paid us a huge amount of cash to ambush you AFTER you summoned the Servants. Not nearly enough, as it turns out," he muttered bitterly to himself.
"To test us," the Master muttered to themselves. "How?" they inquired.
"We attacked," the other magus grunted, "he watched," and the thug pointed directly upward. Sure enough, through the hole in the roof just visible to their eyes was a black dot slowly circling through the sky.
Without a word, Assassin X whipped out yet another gun from her seemingly limitless reserves, this one a freaking sniper rifle. As easily as any other girl her age might've curtsied or twirled about, she laid down with the barrel of the rifle aimed directly upward, made her calculations and fired. A minute later, something small covered in feathers smacked hard upon the floor. A crow familiar, puppeteer by the mage who'd hired the mercenaries to attack them.
"You must have heard him, either over the phone or through the familiar. What did he sound like?"
The magus paused, as if debating how to describe his employer. "Weirdly cheerful," he settled on finally. "As in, absolutely nothing like you'd expect from someone like us."
"I see…" after a moment's deliberation, the Master motioned for their Servants to wrap up the matter. They flinched away in fear of the shots that would tear through their bodies, but they never came. Instead, Assassin X grabbed her shotgun by the barrel and brought it crashing down on one of the ringleader's heads, leaving him to collapse in a boneless heap. On the opposite end, Lancer was performing much the same action with the heavy shaft of her spear. In just a minute, all the surviving mages had been bludgeoned into unconsciousness, then a large supply of rope acquired from one of the abandoned stores nearby and an anonymous call to the police ensured that matter would be taken care of.
"I suppose that ought to serve as proof of our abilities?" Assassin X inquired as they made their way out into the city.
"Yes, I have a better estimation of what the two of you are capable of. I am grateful to have summoned you…" The Master paused, as if uncertain how to respond next.
"Master?" Lancer inquired delicately.
"…Selene."
"What?" The Servants replied in unison.
"You asked for a name," the Master explained. "For now, you may call me Selene…"