"Scathatch, Rune Witch of the Land of Shadows is a figure depicted within Ireland's folklore and hailed to be an immortal slayer of Gods and Demons alike. She was the mentor of the Hound of Ulster, and the Irish Chiron to many other students who would later grow into their own persons."
"..."
"It's widely contested whether such a figure was real or not, or if it's just based on the image of an ancient Campione. Regardless, it's a standard basis for the tale of an epic. By stepping out of the bounds of her legend, that spear she carries makes her a threat that no Campione can ignore due to the divinity of their station. Think of it as a spear of Longinus."
"..."
"One good strike is likely enough to shatter through any Authority including those with revival functions due to the spear's curse, the Runemark of Death. Many attribute the use of runes to that of old nordic tradition and tales from the norse that bled off into the isles in the early pre-colonial times, giving her parallel ties with older mythos."
"..."
"These ancient runeworks of power are inscribed in simple glyphs and strokes that draw power from simplicity as a base of origin. Rather than magic actualized through Authority, Runes, especially primeval-types, are actualized through inscription. Think of it as the difference between a wall of text and a mere symbol that condenses all of that text into something more. Something that can warp laws through a system of rune-work lost and created in the old age."
"..."
"Death by age, death by poison, death through battle, all types of Authorities exist that mark these effects in some way or form, but in comparison, the primeval Rune of Death's only sovereign ability is 'Death.' A single word without description. An absolute death. A death mark you can call it, such that even the Gods cannot reverse it if hit. Scathatch is the Witch of Runes and the Queen of the Land of Shadows depicted in lore, but what separates her from other Heretic Gods, is that her legend is that of a God Slayer…a story arguably that of a Campione."
"..."
"She is not someone that can be taken lightly."
"..."
"Godou, are you listening? The rest are probably scrambling to devise a means to counter it, but you're different. Your Avatar of the Warrior is a perfect counter. The information you hear now is vital if you ever pit yourself against the Goddess of the Land of Shadows- Muoh Godou!"
Godou flinched when he felt a hand shove him on the shoulder, nearly pushing him off his seat in exasperation. Turning to the woman beside him, Godou had no real excuse this time when pitted against Erica's exasperated features.
Both were considerably stressed since the beginning of this entire debacle, and were seated a bit further away from the other Campione in attendance. Of course, this was due to Godou's own preference when Lord Salvator Doni waved at him invitingly like they were friends. This urged the prompt decision to be as far away from the man as Godou felt was polite yet not too rude. You can never predict what goes on in that bastard's mind.
"Sorry, sorry, I'm listening, I'm listening," Godou snapped out of his daze, only to see Erica shifting from an exasperated look, to a tired one.
Erica was no fool, and was adept in reading people by their expressions alone. Godou was an even simpler case. "Godou, I can tell that your mind is focused elsewhere. Need I remind you that you were the one who asked me for information about Duke Voban's opponent in the first place?"
Honestly, Godou had asked for more of a distraction than anything. There was no way he was going to remember everything if Erica just info-dumped him anyway, and he needed the background noise to calm his nerves a bit. He was tense, not liking anything that's happening right now when all that he had wanted was to continue living a 'normal' life. Sadly, his status as a Campione would forever bar him of that no matter how he deluded himself.
The fact that his family, friends, and country could be destroyed at the whims of a coalition of Heretic Gods above Japan meant that he couldn't even pretend to sit this one out either.
"I know," Godou answered Erica stiffly. "That's why I apologized."
Erica didn't buy it. Her Godou still seemed distracted.
"Look at me, Godou." Erica grabbed one of Godou's hands and squeezed it firmly, trying to get him to prioritize. "Now is the time to focus. The fate of your home country's future is riding on this. What else could you possibly be worrying over?"
Erica waited for an answer, watching Godou slowly open and close his mouth before he finally gave in and confided with her.
"It's just…Arturia's here."
Erica stilled at the words, a flicker of nervousness passing over her features. Yes. Yes, Arturia was here. Erica would have been blind not to have been able to recognize her classmate when she practically announced her presence by shouting at a Heretic God.
Still, the other point of contention was that if Arturia was here, then that God of Steel was likely part of this coalition as well. This made Erica nervous considering how their initial bout ended up disastrous. Nevertheless, Erica shook her head due to more pressing concerns.
The presence of the owls perched atop the open colosseum's spires and watching intently.
"Well, yes, but, ugh, perhaps it's not the time to be concerning ourselves with her?" Erica felt she had no choice but to try and dissuade this route of conversation.
A cold sweat formed over Erica's back. The entire fort was Athena's Authority, and Erica wasn't naïve enough to believe that Athena wouldn't exercise authority on the branding on Erica's person if they did anything untoward or touched a taboo.
"No, I mean it's hard to explain but it feels like her presence here means something." Godou insisted, missing the darting of Erica's eyes. "Look, everyone else is also glancing at her."
By everyone else, Godou was distinctly referring to the members of the other magic societies, Black Prince Alec, and the other Campione.
"Means something?" Erica echoed in disbelief at Godou's word. "Of course it does. I apologize for my bluntness, but are you daft?"
Erica pinched the bridge of her nose while Godou sheepishly scratched the back of his head, knowing that Erica would continue once she simmered down a bit.
"Really, you…" Erica dropped her shoulders but still smiled wryly. She knew that Godou's ignorance of the world's magic societies was lacking, but as his knight, it was her duty to accommodate his shortcomings. If insight was also one of them, then she had the patience to ingrain it into him eventually.
"Listen Godou, it's only natural for attention to fall on Arturia." Erica began to lecture. "A Heretic God had actually listened to her; a feat, I will remind you, has never happened before considering that most Heretic Gods fall prey to the curse of madness. It's within reason to be curiou-"
"And Athena?" Godou threw a curveball. With everyone's attention focused on the battle and Arturia's intervention, few if any had been looking at Athena. Godou however, was different.
For a good second, Erica blinked on the back foot.
"A-Athena?" Erica stammered the name out, only to cool her features when Godou subtly pointed Athena's way, gesturing for Erica to look over.
Erica flinched.
Athena's features were pinched.
A finger was incessantly tapping over the oak of her make-shift throne, and a smile that wasn't quite a smile was plastered over her face. She was vexed. Cracks were beginning to form where her finger made contact with the wood, and her crossed legs had long since uncrossed as she leaned forward with a clenched jaw.
"She looks like she wants to strangle someone doesn't she?"
Eager to get someone on his side, Godou neglected to notice the pallor of Erica's complexion grow pale.
'Strangle? She looks like she wants to kill someone!'
Erica immediately pretended as if she didn't see anything. She knew better than anyone that she was the most susceptible individual for Athena to vent on if Athena became unreasonable. Hence, she'd rather not push her luck at such a tentatively precarious moment.
"...You're just imagining it," Erica tried to downplay the situation, revising her initial thoughts from earlier. It wasn't that Godou wasn't observant, it was that he was too observant of the little things.
"No, just think about it," Godou furrowed his brows, his arms crossing in contention. "My gut is telling me that there's something here that we're missing."
His gut? So, it wasn't observational skill but a feeling-based deduction?
Erica couldn't argue against this. In their time together, she could hardly recall an instance where Godou's instinct had been wrong, but that was why if he pursued this, then he'd definitely find out the altercation she'd had with Athena. She got herself into this mess, and it wasn't the time to get out of it by adding onto his troubles. "Even-even if there is. This isn't the time." She pursed her lips, and felt her strength leaving her.
Perhaps they could go against Athena after Godou had usurped more Authorities, but not now when he was still at his weakest with limited abilities. They'd get trounced, especially when Erica considered the likely possibility that even if Athena were to be defeated, she'd be rescued by an alliance member.
Godou finally took the time to look at Erica, and stilled.
"Alright." Whatever he saw, it was enough for him to relent. "We'll think about it later."
"Thank you." Erica bowed her head in gratitude, relief flooding her features as she smiled fondly at her champion.
"..."
A softness spread over Godou's face before he fully put aside his worries surrounding Arturia and Athena. He wasn't naïve enough to not understand that Erica was avoiding the topic by this point. However, he also knew that she must have had her reasons. Besides, it wasn't as if he knew half of the things that she'd done for his sake anyway. All that mattered was that he could tell that her actions were done with his well-being in mind. That was enough.
That being said, that was that matter, and this was this matter.
Godou abruptly stood up, intent on challenging next after Voban's departure. However, no sooner than he tried, Erica was already pulling him back down in a fluster of incredulity.
"You don't plan to fight now, do you?" Erica criticized, almost sounding like she was hissing.
Godou felt like he couldn't just answer with a simple 'yes,' anymore. Still, he couldn't help but try to explain himself. "It's my country; my home that this battle is being waged in. I can't just stand idle."
The edges of Erica's lips twitched up. At any other time, she would have commended him for finally stepping into the proper role that a Campione should play, but not this time.
"And you call yourself normal," she jabbed in exasperation.
"I am normal."
"Right, well I disagree both with your view of normal, and with your actions."
"Really?" Godou knit his brows, feeling at a loss as his shoulders slumped.
"Suicide is not a normal behaviour. Besides, everyone knows that my Godou is the Harem King with all the women eyei-"
"Erica! You know that's not true!"
Erica gave Godou the flattest stare in her life.
"Moving on," Erica didn't bother contesting the statement with Godou, and moved on to more practical terms. "With your Authorities, Godou, going earlier only puts you at a disadvantage when compared to waiting. Your Warrior Avatar is your strongest trump card, but it will mean nothing against an opponent you're ignorant of. Worse, your other Avatars have their own activation conditions which may not even apply here."
"But-"
"But nothing Godou. Is your life worth so little to put yourself at risk as the youngest Campione?" Erica could feel for Godou, but she cared more about his well being rather than right or wrong. "Let your seniors test the waters. They can't fault you for a lack of initiative."
"..."
"If you don't agree with me now, or are worried that you'd be looked down upon, show them a surprise!" Erica had full confidence and faith. "In the end, you Godou, will show them that you are the strongest of all. But to do that, we'll need every advantage we can get, so observe."
Both of the two's attention fell back onto the center of the colosseum arena.
The question that arose now was who would challenge next, and which other Heretic God would step out through those gates?
Having returned to a waiting room behind the colosseum's Defender gate, Shirou allowed himself the leisure to ease up his tension, but it did little good. His thoughts were in too much of a jumble, and embarrassment from sling control in front of everyone left him flustered.
Athena had not been imagining it when she thought that Shirou had fled so fast out of shame. It was true. More than that, now was the time to reflect.
There would only be a short reprieve until the next match, and Shirou had to figure out what had gone wrong with him prior. For as far as he could recall, he'd lost control of his own actions when it felt as if someone else had temporarily commandeered control of him.
The best way to describe it was if he had two spirit origins existing within him at the same time, and yet that wasn't possible. Indeed. If his spirit origin was truly affected, then there would be no way he'd be able to retain his state of mind as he is doing now. As a Servant, his spirit origin was a direct reflection of him. Any changes with it, would affect him directly.
Being as there was no change, it meant that the source of the trouble wasn't with him to begin with.
He stared at his hands while opening and closing them in a morbid kind of fascination. He'd long since dispelled the Authority Athena had lent him, and had assumed his original form. It was a precaution in case 'Scathatch' felt it nice to descend into him again.
Honestly, it was like he wasn't himself earlier.
No, he really wasn't himself.
If his Master's voice and the connection that they shared didn't jolt him into a frenzy to wrestle back control of his actions, the voice and will of the Goddess that descended into his vessel would have gotten her way. The situation had happened so unexpectedly that he'd been unprepared for it, and was in too much of a daze to resist when it had happened.
This really was a different ball game, a different playing field than what he was used to.
If it wasn't already apparent to him before, now it was. This world was affecting the use of his magecraft more than he'd like to admit. In fact, the origin of his magic supposedly now came from a different source.
As a Master and Servant, it was generally the Master that provided the upkeep for the Servant, but in this case, it felt more like the other way around.
'Magic is derived from myth and legend. Humans merely use a bastardized version borrowing from the Authorities of the Gods found in religious text or cult rituals.'
The words Athena had once spoken to Shirou before came to mind now more than they had before.
It was so weird.
So, his 'story' was the root of his magecraft? In which case, what dictated power if stories were the basis of Authority? Would the boy who cried wolf have an Authority where anyone would believe him the first three times, but never again afterwards?
Would such an Authority even affect Gods?
No matter how Shirou tried to wrap his mind around it, he didn't get this world. It wasn't like he was just some story character or a notable figure of legend anyway.
However, if there was something that he could understand, it was that by transforming himself into the likeness of another God or Hero, and simultaneously Tracing their weapons which constitute their Authority, he was essentially creating a perfect Servant vessel.
In the end, Shirou was fortunate enough that Scathatch's personality was more dispassionate than heated, allowing him the means to regain control of himself in a timely manner. However, what if it was someone else with a stronger personality?
There was no way to predict how dangerous for his own conscience it could be to constantly shift between personas as he'd originally intended. Therefore, he came to a decision. Just as the Campione who obtained victory could continue on to fight more battles, he would simply do the same in a single guise. The point of the matter though, was choosing a suitable identity to combat the Campione other than his original appearance.
Of course, there was still a risk involved in this plan and yet-
He sighed, stewing over the thought.
This was a boon as much as it could be a danger: A double edged sword, and yet, recalling who he was doing all this for, he realized that the sacrifice wasn't all that hard to make.
Just because she smiled at him…
Just because she looked the same...
And just because she lived a life his Saber could have only ever dreamed of...
He would protect it; the vision of her so close yet so far.
That was the kind of love-sick fool he was.
So be it.
The helm of the Under King was gradually placed back over his head, his appearance once more beginning to morph, taking on the aspect of 'hiding in plain sight.'
Back in the stands, everyone appeared rife with discussion. It was no different with the Campione, but Black Prince Alec in particular was more of a reserved individual.
Alec was a man dressed in formal attire. A black suit and contrasting tie was worn over his top, while dress pants covered his legs to his feet where leather shoes clacked with each step. His jaw line was rather pronounced, giving him a more defined disposition that was ruined only by the sternes of the dark circles beneath his eyes.
His hair was parted at the center with his bangs framing the sides of his face, and his features were currently set in a hard line.
"Any results?" He spoke gruffly to someone that he insisted was an 'associate' rather than a friend.
Said associate twitched her brow at the tone, but maintained an aloof demeanor while secretly weighing the chances of getting away with digging her heel into Alec's dress shoes.
Sadly, dreams and aspirations were just that. Dreams.
Against a Campione, Alice of the Witenagemot could hardly keep anything over him for long.
"Impatient as ever, aren't we Prince?" Alice smiled and then dropped said smile at the same instance. "If you'd like, you're more than welcome to move on your own. Of course, there must be a reason you would seek to cooperate with me in the first place. Unless it's for something relevant to us both, we normally stay out of each other's hair. Or is it because you can't. Am I right?"
Only Alice who was bubbly with everyone would be so respectful yet teasing to a Campione of Alec's station. If she couldn't be physical, then she'd try mental to wheedle a reaction out of this stone-faced bloke.
Black Prince Alec grunted before humming in thought, his astute observation working on overdrive.
Rather than limit himself to duel on the terms of a Heretic God, he was more interested in the interaction between Arturia and the Heretic Gods. Alec's keen insight had never really failed him, and he'd noticed oddities surrounding Arturia that garnered his attention. However, the tension around Athena had suddenly heightened. Considering that the fort was her Authority, Alec could infer that it wouldn't be easy to maneuver around Athena's notice to sate his own conjectures. Hence, he decided to cooperate with Alice, a lead figure of Witenagemot, to investigate.
Heretic Gods were still Gods. Their pride and self-worth were above paying keen interest to 'ordinary' humans even on a subconscious level. Alec knew this keenly from experience. Therefore, an organization member with no magic energy, and trained in physical ability was more than enough to evade a God's suspicion.
Alice had many such personnel under her employ, and Alec was trying to make use of that.
"Get on with it," Alec said, a foot tapping over the ground.
Alice glanced at her nails and smiled, remaining silent much to Alec's chagrin.
"..."
"I see this partnership is bound for failure. I will take my lea-"
"I was only waiting for a 'please,' you oaf. Get a clue." Alive sulked before sighing and shaking her head. From her purse, Alice pulled out a mobile phone, entered a password, and tapped the screen a few times. "Honestly, for all the knowledge a Heretic God such as Athena possesses, she doesn't seem to realize the existence of texts, nor the necessity of blocking them as a form of information."
Alec let out a snort.
Well, that was the thing about ancient Gods that have stepped down from their legend. Their understanding of the modern world wasn't quite as in depth as they believed, and Athena was from an era where messengers were still a thing.
Reading over the information gleaned from her phone, Alice craned her neck up to Alec in thought. "About the girl, her name's apparently a Ms. Pendragon."
"Pendragon?" Alec mused at the new information. "You think there's a correlation with that of the old tales of the Arthurian Court?"
"You wound me." Alice mockingly feigned hurt. "If there was, I'd know."
"Right," Alec conceded unperturbed. "Hime-Miko."
"I prefer the term, 'Mystic,' 'Seer,' or 'Heaven's Daughter.' It has its own pizazz and appeal, don't you think?"
"Your formal façade is slipping Alice, focus."
Alice puffed her cheeks and pouted. "Fine, always so serious with you. As of this moment, there's nothing I can infer from Ms. Pendragon in a divine sense. She comes off as a simple civy, yo."
Alec sighed at the terms Alice was using as a description. He didn't choose to comment on them if only because he felt she was just trying to get a rise out of him, and to let her get to the point.
"I had someone run a background check on her with our affiliates in Japan."
A notification text rang out from the cell phone secured in a purse Alive had resting over her lap. She once more picked up her phone and skimmed through the contents.
"Other than being called the 'Lion of Fuyuki' for whatever reason...The report says she's just a normal teenage girl." Alice flipped the screen of her cell phone to Alec and let him have a quick once over of the report. "She's currently on transfer after a magic incident left her prior school of Homurahara Academy under heavy repairs."
So as to say…nothing he didn't already know or infer.
This partnership wasn't as helpful as Alec had envisioned. Sadly for Alec, he'd also be losing his contemplation time as a costumed figure approached his and Alice's part of the colosseum stands.
The figure was wearing a black suit, cape, and metallic mask under the scrutiny of all.
"John Pluto Smith (JPS)," Alec greeted with a curt nod.
"Black Prince Alec," JPS replied in kind until Alice coughed and drew attention to herself, knowing how anti-social Alec could be.
JPS glanced over at the Witch of the Witenagemot.
"I take it you caped sir didn't come just for pleasantries?" Alice smiled, making a welcoming gesture. "Considering the matter of Duke Voban's loss, I assume a hero such as yourself can't remain still?"
"Well, yes." JPS blinked, not having expected his intention to be inferred so easily. "A hero will surely rise to the challenge, if not I, then one of my compatriots."
"Should I take it that you intend to go next then?" Alec cut straight to the point.
"Indeed," JPS found himself nodding, the conversation far more pleasant than the last time he tried conversing with either Luo Hao or Duke Voban. "But who am I to just arbitrarily jump in after Voban walked out when I'm not the only one participating? It doesn't help that you arrived before me, and…a hero does not cut lines."
The corners of Alice's lip twitched at JPS's response. As if manners or propriety mattered in this sort of setting, but she knew better. All Campiones had their odd quirks. Even that normal looking Godou Kusonagi keeping quiet on the side shouldn't be an exception. Who knows, he may even be one of those legendary closet perverts from the far east?
Alice coughed, but Alec had now taken the initiative.
"If you wish to test the waters, then by all means," Alec saw no reason to deny JPS's actions if it could serve him a purpose. Alec directly motioned towards the arena center. "Go ahead, though I do have a request."
"A request from the Black Prince? If I'm able to, it shouldn't be much of a problem." The steel mask of JPS's face glinted as he nodded.
Alec wasted no time in trying to use someone who was intent on being used. "It's not difficult request to begin with, but I simply need you to-"
"Yo."
A single voice halted all conversation.
Both Alec and John shut their mouths simultaneously, an arm abruptly wrapping around each of their shoulders.
Salvator Doni appeared grinning while hanging off of the two of them.
"So, I heard something about cutting lines and all that?" Doni picked at his ears with his pinky finger with his arm still wrapped around Alec's shoulder.
Alec grimaced as Doni flicked away some earwax.
Doni had always been a rather 'at his own pace' sort of person, but Alec had never truly interacted with Italy's Campione.
Alec and JPS stared at each other in mutual understanding.
If there was one word that was synonymous with Salvator Doni, it was only one.
Moron.
With Doni around, they wouldn't be playing with common sense or rationality here. Neither Alec or JPS were arrogant enough to feel confident about predicting Salvator Doni's course of action. Only a God of Wisdom would have such misplaced egotism to judge the methods of fools…
"Oh, no greetings? No problems!" Doni grinned.
Indeed, neither Alec or JPS had much of a response, but both straightened their clothes after shoving Doni off of them.
Regarding who was going next, the matter seemed entirely out of their hands now.
"~If no one else is going, then don't mind me." Grinning, Salvator Doni hopped down into the arena without much care for the thoughts of others, his feet cratering the ground as the clang of steel echoed. "Alright, bring em! Let's fight, yeah!"
In the stands, Doni's friend and butler had slapped a hand over his face and lifelessly slumped into his seat. He'd thought that Doni had been doing well not to act up, but he'd been too naive.
Salvator Doni was the youngest Campione before Godou's debut, and despite many believing him a moron, he was exceptional in battle.
Messy blond hair was swept up in the wind as Doni began releasing his magic energy in a signal of provocation.
Not many things could catch Doni's interest, but honing his sword through battle was certainly one of them.
His blood was pumping vigorously within him, excitement muting the chatter of the crowds as the gate opposite to him gradually opened in response.
Instantly, the din of the spectating crowd grew muted, all eyes focusing on the opening gates.
The sound of rustling fabric revealed a figure wreathed in simple swathing white robes, bare feet touching over the dirt at a languid pace.
Long green hair that reached past the figure's ankles revealed androgenous features that made it difficult to tell whether the figure was woman or man. All the same, the appearance was beyond the scope of human description.
"You want to fight?" The figure paused while taking stock of Doni's posture. "I don't get you living creatures…Very well. Let us compare abilities."
A hand was firmly planted onto the earth, tendrils of lightning arcing violently from the ground and forming the structure of numerous weapons.
Verdant eyes stared up with intent, the power of the earth shifting with the first grains of sand to be uplifted.
"The ultimate weapon stands before you."
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