Not Some Fantasy
Even with the weighty responsibility of mastering the Great Red's power to bring back my family hanging over my head, a subtle ease settled over me as I took in the picturesque image of the surrounding landscape.
A lifetime spent in the unforgiving embrace of the concrete jungle (the city) had left me unprepared for the vastness of green fields stretching before my eyes. Unlike the oppressive heat of the city, the sun here cast a warm glow, accompanied by a cool breeze that beckoned for a moment of rest.
"Damn, I wish Nelly and Victor could see this…" I muttered with pursed lips.
No, I will make it happen. No matter what.
Bounding over an elevation of land, I marveled at the endless expanse of greenery, a stark contrast to the urban sprawl I'd known. Yet, the absence of signs of human life stirred my curiosity. My Boosted Gear had long since reset, indicating a considerable distance covered.
The fact that I still have not seen any signs of civilization hinted at the unique condition of my current location.
"So, Ddraig," I spoke, breaking the silence that had become an unfamiliar companion.
It wasn't that I detested the silence; rather, the city's constant cacophony had been an inseparable part of my life. Transitioning from that clamor to this serene quietude proved more disconcerting than I'd imagined. Perhaps, after reuniting with my family, life in the tranquil countryside could become a consideration—but as of this moment, I am all jumpy.
"Now that we're essentially partners for eternity, I want to know if you're comfortable with me becoming your host. I could ask the other guy, but I'm keeping him as a hidden card. Your power is more efficient," I explained.
"... I don't know how to feel about you saying that he's more of a trump card than me. But I'll chalk it off as his power being quite the burden if your body isn't strong enough," Ddraig replied, a hint of amusement coloring his words.
A faint smile played on my lips. I had no intention of apologizing. It was the truth, however painful it may be. Ddraig's power was battle-ready and much easier to access in case of unwanted surprises or impromptu fights, while his counterpart's abilities depended heavily on the strength of my body and the opponent's prowess.
Sighing, Ddraig continued, "Anyways, I don't have a problem becoming your Sacred Gear. After all, we're not the Boosted Gear and the Divine Dividing in the strictest sense. We're more of the Great Red's pseudo-personalities than the original Heavenly Dragons."
This revelation didn't startle me, thanks to the information Great Red had etched into my mind during a rather uncomfortable process -my head is still ringing. As per the details, Great Red had obtained parameters and blueprints for the Boosted Gear and Divine Dividing from a certain Hyodou Issei.
The latter had undergone a peculiar kind of death --not the 'dead' death, more of the 'transitioning into a soul' death. In the course of constructing a body for this Hyodou Issei, Great Red had been provided with the necessary data to construct its own Longinus, facilitated by the Dragon God's power.
"As long as you don't have an issue with me, I've got nothing more to say. Although, calling yourself a pseudo-personality… Does that mean you're like the Great Red, himself?" I inquired.
"In a way. I'm more like a facet of Great Red, donning the mantle of the Heavenly Dragon, Ddraig. But I don't think that's what you're asking about, right?" Ddraig asked, meaningfully.
"Yeah... But let's put that on hold," I trailed off, my steps slowing to an ambling gait. The pungent odor in the air hinted at something unsettling.
Something had just happened…
With a quick [Boost!], I doubled my physical abilities and followed the rancid smell. Soon enough, I saw a white smoke on the horizon confirming that something terrible had just occurred.
With both armored and unarmored fists clenched, I walked toward the source of the smoke, confirming my suspicions. The burnt clearing, a harsh juxtaposition against the lush landscape, conveyed a grim message—wherever this place was, it wasn't safe.
Charred bodies were scattered around, one of them positioned as if shielding something. A morbid curiosity got the better of me, and I approached the body, checking behind it only to find my breath catching in my throat.
Kids. The person had been protecting children.
"… Fuck."
I wish I could say I did something, anything, but I stood there frozen. Tears refused to fall, though my chest felt heavy and my eyes stung.
Perhaps it was because I'd seen this too many times. Knew the pain of enduring it while feeling a twisted satisfaction that it was me instead of them, and understood the feeling of dying with the knowledge that what you did was never enough.
"For all the things that life's put me through, now's the only time I'm happy to say that my luck has changed."
I never prayed because I felt there was no god—though the existence of Great Red cast some doubt on that. But now, surrounded by death, I dipped my head and whispered a silent prayer—for them, if not for me. If a god existed, they deserved a welcome at his gates.
Turning to leave, I put some distance between myself and the charred clearing. Then I stopped, turned back, and raised my gauntlet arm. Leaving them out here seemed wrong, and digging graves to bury them in could make me vulnerable to the same thing that killed them.
It was better to wipe everything away.
A red orb no smaller than a tennis ball, manifested above my palm. From the memories I'd gained from Great Red, its potency needed no boost—it was more than enough for this task.
[Dragon Shot!]
The red orb shot towards the clearing, detonating with an earth-shaking roar that echoed across the landscape. A blustery wind whipped across my face, with the dust and smoke dispersing to reveal a slightly deep crater where the clearing once stood.
Of course, it went without saying that the bodies had been vaporized.
Feeling a mix of gratitude and regret for the destruction I caused, I noted that I needed to hold back when interacting with people in the future.
"Though," I gazed at the crater, my lower jaw moving as my face settled on a contemplating look, "Maybe it's just me… But I feel like whoever did this isn't human."
"So you think so too, partner?" Ddraig asked. "I can't say for sure, but something about the ambiance feels familiar. Whatever the source of this may be, it may have a relation to dragons."
"Really? How did you get that?" I inquired.
Ddraig's reply gave the impression of a shrug.
"I don't know; that's why I called it a feeling. Let's not be too sure. But in any case, be careful. Whoever or whatever did this must be one nasty kind of entity... Not like I'm one to talk."
As I pondered his words, a chilling realization settled in—this newfound power came with the responsibility of navigating a world where even the serene landscapes could conceal horrors.
*--*--*
In the second leg of my impromptu journey, I proceeded with a heightened sense of soberness. My pace retained its sprint, pushing the boundaries of what could be considered superhuman, yet my senses were on high alert—fever even.
The realization that I now harbored the essence of a Dragon God had been temporarily relegated to the background. Taking chances was now entirely out of the question; all it could take was a single stroke of bad luck to end my journey before it even got started.
Nevertheless, the images of the charred corpses lingered hauntingly in my mind. It wasn't the gruesomeness of the scene that unsettled me -I have witnessed far worse in my experiences. Rather, it was the perplexing question of why the dragons had unleashed such devastation.
My knowledge of dragons was limited, gleaned mostly from the surficial information given to me by the Dragon God. Those creatures were typically solitary and formidable, which made their collective assault on those guys seem a bit irrational.
"!!... Hmm?"
Suddenly, I stopped, eyes narrowing towards a particular direction.
A mysterious sensation interrupted my contemplation, akin to a subtle ping or the fabled Spider Sense from comic books. It wasn't some foreboding signal, no, it was more of an instinctive awareness—a connection to something or someone resonating with my nature. The likelihood of this link being tied to dragons was high, and disconcertingly, whatever or whoever was pinging me appeared to be numerous.
"Are you going?" asked Ddraig's voice from the glowing jade jewel.
'A million-dollar question.' I thought with my lips twitching.
Logically, it would be wise not to go poke the hornet nest with proper preparations.
But... Fuck, when has life been ever easy?
My goal since I had arrived here was to train my power or rather this Sacred Gear to take it to the maximum level, and from the information Great Red had injected into my brain. The fastest way to increase my power is through two things.
Desire and adversity.
Maybe that is why he had sent me to this kind of place.
'Then there's only one thing left for me to do.'
Stretching my neck to loosen it, I put on a deranged smirk.
"Ddriag, start [Boost]-ing me to the highest level I can take."
"Heh, so that's your choice," Ddraig said, approvingly. "Very well. Brace yourself, Adam. We're going full throttle."
[Boost!]... [Boost!]... [Boost!!]
*--*--*
ᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥ
Meanwhile,
Olga Marie gritted her teeth while her arm never stopped petering off Gandr's upon their phantasmal assailant. Casting a gaze around, the mage could see that the others weren't doing any better.
'Well, that's what you get for trying to fight Wyverns with ordinary spears and swords.' Olga Marie bitterly thought, before muttering. "Not like I am any better."
The mage wasn't all that surprised, even though their foe wasn't an outright dragon. Even though they were a weaker species compared to their winged superiors, just being associated with the word 'Dragon' meant that they still had enough Mystery to hang above most beasts on a totem scale.
Which meant that as a modern mage, she was ultimately going to be at a disadvantage.
A Wyvern slipped past her barrage and crashed against a barrier she had set up prior as a precaution. Thankfully, it held. But then again, that doesn't mean much compared to the negligible damage she had done against the phantasmal herd.
'There are over 40 of these creatures! What am I expected to do here?!' Olga Marie thought, tears welling up at the side of her eyes despite her efforts to force them back.
'Why does this always have to happen to me?!'
As soon as she had arrived at this place, Olga Marie knew something was wrong and upon looking up, she found her fears to be confirmed by a mile radius encompassing a ring of light.
Olga Marie couldn't tell if that light was a spell or some Noble Phantasm, but she knew that the ring of light was bad news.
Sparring a glance at the beautiful but tainted sky, Olga Marie pursed her lips.
'If only I had contact with Chaldea, we could at least analyze whatever that is.'
Nevertheless, the disturbing ring of light couldn't compare to the fact that Olga Marie had been mysteriously Rayshifted once again. This time it was to France, probably after the Hundred Years War... Although, she wasn't quite sure about that.
From asking the people from the caravan that she had been lucky to join, Olga Marie deduced that what had happened here did not occur in history.
"Agh!"
Olga Marie flinched, whirling towards the source of the shot to see a soldier casting away his sword and holding his head with a look of despair.
"This is God's punishment! This is God's vengeance on us for abandoning the Saint when she needed us the most! Argh, God forgive me—"
Before Olga Marie could even do or say anything, a Wyvern swept down and chomped the man's head off.
Breathe hitched and eyes dilated, the last look of man remained in Olga Marie's mind as the memory of her death came flooding right in.
' Die the failure that you are, Animusphere.'
"No... I don't want to die. I still haven't achieved anything."
' Ah, Marie. Poor pitiful Marie.'
"No... No..."
' Unwanted by anyone. Hated by everyone.'
"No! No! No! No! No! No! No! No!"
' That is your lot! That is your fate! Disgrace of the Animusphere!'
"No!! I am not a failure! No one has ever given me a chance. They're all whispering behind my back, pointing fingers saying that I will never be enough. Even though I worked so, so hard..."
Reality and delusion blurred for the Tower Lord in the battle of life and death.
Olga Marie had the option of escaping from this ongoing massacre. Just before Olga had met with the caravan, she had the opportunity to create six runic-infused stones with defensive proprieties.
Five of the stones had been inscribed with the ability to manifest barriers like the one she was using right now, while the last one had been created to erase her presence.
A trump card she made as a precautionary measure.
Wyverns however powerful they may be are generally senseless creatures. Of course, there are exceptions to that, but Olga Marie wasn't seeing any of that kind right now.
So yes, with the runic stone of concealment, the mage could hunker down somewhere and survive all this.
But she couldn't. For what held the mage behind her, the reason for expending all five of her shield-runic stones instead of just three.
A pregnant woman held kids that were not her children, pacifying them and telling them that everything would be alright.
A brother held his sister, putting on a brave face despite the slight tremoring of his body.
An elderly woman peered out in desperation knowing that her similarly elder husband was fighting out there. But the only thing she could do was to hope, hope that her love comes back to her once again.
Olga Marie was a mage and mage sense demanded that she take this opportunity and serve the ones behind her as a distraction and abscond from here. But Olga Marie couldn't. Why? She couldn't say. Maybe guilt sensed that this was all her fault or a sense of duty howling at her to show the might of the Animusphere.
'Father would have stood tall before all these monsters and won. Just like how he did in the Holy Grail War.'
But Olga Marie deep down knew that her reason for standing here was much simpler than that...
She just wanted to do something right and succeed at it.
This wasn't the mage-sense speaking, but a girl desperate to be acknowledged.
"Hah..." Olga Marie exhaled as the excess use of her magecraft was getting to her. "I do lack the proper disposition of a mage, don't I?"
Olga Marie's heart pounded as the barriers she deployed began to crack, unlike a well-made barrier that could be reconstructed, hers was of a more roughhewn craft.
This time same as in Fuyuki, there was no one to save her. Olga Marie was truly on her own like she always has been. But even so, the mage hoped, and even if it was against the norm, she prayed.
Even just once, Olga Marie wants to experience the warmth she had felt years ago. The warmth that her teacher and surrogate mother, Trisha had always doused her in.
Even if would come in the form of an illusion, Olga Marie wanted to feel someone to pat her and say that everything is going to be alright, that she had done enough.
Soon enough, the barrier broke and a trio of Wyverns swooped down, course for the Tower Lord who could only watch helplessly as death drew closer once again.
In the battleground between beast and man, a girl's hope-filled plea rang out.
"Ah... I don't want to die."
The Dragon answered.
[Dragon Shot!]
A bright crimson flash accompanied by a thunderous roar washed over the mage's vision. The Wyvern that was poised to kill her fell with its upper torso missing, its partners were nowhere to be seen, vaporized curtsey of the crimson light.
It took a second for Olga Marie to realize that she wasn't going to be mauled to death, before twirling to the source from which the light came—only for a blur to wheeze past her.
"Wha... What was that? A Servant?"
Unfortunately, the mage couldn't have picked a worse time to go blank in confusion. With her barrier down there was nothing to prevent any of the Phantasmal to pounce on her.
"Miss, watch out!"
"Huh?"
With a sound of confusion, Olga Marie felt the world slow down as a claw descended slowly on her face—only for it to be violently propelled away by a figure coated in a reddish shroud of mana.
"Why the hell are you standing over there like some statue?"
The aura slowly dimmed revealing the figure to be a tanned skin hoodlum-looking teenager dressed in clothes that very much seemed to be from her time, his right arm though was covered in what appeared to be a red gauntlet.
But even more than his appearance or the frankly overwhelming amount of mana he was outputting, Olga Marie found herself captivated by the sight of his eyes. Despite the daylight, the neon-jade orbs still glowed in the rowdy battlefield.
"Hey, white hair." The teenager said, "Can you still fight?"
"Me-Me?" Olga Marie dumbly pointed at herself.
"No... Probably your ancestors." The teenager sarcastically replied.
'The-The nerve!' Olga Marie's eyes twitched, all budding positive feelings gone.
Words hung at the tip of the mage's tongue, but a quick shout of despair tacitly told the mage that now wasn't the time and place to seek a fight.
Sighing, Olga Marie said. "My attacks aren't effective on them. The most I can do is fight defensively... Which would have been my strategy if my runic-shield stones were still working."
"Can you do something about it?"
"Maybe, if you're capable of buying time."
The teenager nodded and walked towards the heat of the battle.
"Then I'll buy you time."
Watching as the 'rude' hoodlum-looking teenager walked away, the question of whether he was a Heroic Spirit or not once again crept into Olga Marie's mind.
"No, now's not the time. I'll interrogate him, later... If we survive this, that is."
Shaking her head, the mage stooped down and picked up stones that weakly flickered with runic letters. Thankfully, their integrity hadn't gone down much so it was still useable.
"You can do this, Marie. You can do this."
With the shield now active, Olga Marie resumed her defensive formation.
⸙⸙⸙⸙⸙⸙⸙⸙⸙
Cooperation replaced confusion as they fought side by side against the encroaching Phantasmals. The crimson flashes continued, and the thunderous roars echoed, creating a symphony of magic and mayhem.
In the chaos, Olga Marie couldn't help but feel a growing sense of camaraderie with her unlikely ally. The questions about his identity could wait; survival demanded their united efforts.
As they held the line against the supernatural onslaught, a fleeting smile crossed Olga Marie's face. The battlefield, once a dire threat, now became a stage for an unexpected partnership between a mage and a mysterious teenager.