It got suggested that I let you guys know which tools and weapons Haku has been tracing and where they're from. I have some really neat Status Window pics that I use on other sites, but FF doesn't allow for embed images and I kinda gave up without thinking too much about it. My bad.
From now on, I'll include any new traced weapons at the end of the chapter but, for now, have a compilation of everything used so far.
001 - The Last Master:
Chantage (Final Fantasy Tactics): A perfume with a soothing scent.
009 - Twisted Mirror, Twisted Reflection:
Roukanken (Touhou Project, Konpaku Youmu): The Watchtower Sword is a long Japanese blade called Odachi. Forged by Youkai and capable of cutting through nearly anything, it is said to hold the power to kill ten phantoms in a single strike.
Zolfi (Yggdra Union, Aegina): The Funeral Blade is a thin, light and sharp-pointed blade called Rapier. This terrifying blade is said to kill the opponent no matter what, as long as it's wielded in a one-on-one duel. Indeed, many men have been sent to their graves by this ominous weapon.
Auxiliary Robot Arm (Honkai Star Rail, Svarog): A mechanical device controlled by an ancient peacekeeping robot from a faraway planet. While they are capable of deploying fierce attacks during emergencies, their main functionality is that of neutralizing hostile agents through their special Disabling Field.
Eye of Yatagarasu (Touhou Project, Reiuji Utsuho): The heart of a certain carrion bird who once consumed the corpse of a god. A perpetual motion machine powered by nuclear fusion and containing the power of a supernova. A subterranean sun which could easily consume the world if it ever went out of control. At least, that's how the legend goes...
Haste Rune (Defense of the Ancients): The Runes of Power are small fragments of a once-almighty and now-shattered primordial consciousness. They embody a singular concept and can be used to empower the user for brief bursts. The Haste Rune grants incomparable speed for but a fleeting moment.
012 - Into the lion's den:
Blessed Bayonet (Hellsing, Alexander Anderson): A specialized silver tool designed to hunt down supernatural creatures. Each of them is blessed, making them highly dangerous to the undead. Equally useful for melee combat or as thrown weapon, they're somewhat reminiscent of a certain tool of the Burial Agency.
Frying Pan (Final Fantasy VI, Yang's Wife):A pan forged with love(?).
013 - The might of the Berserker (Fake)
Illyasviel von Einzbern
Illya can feel her heart beating loudly inside her chest as she chases after Atalanta. This is not due to the exertion, no. Her petite body may be a disadvantage when it comes to physical tasks, but it'll take more than some inconveniently short legs to hold her back. That's what Reinforcement is for, boosting the efficiency of her heart, lungs, muscles and… ground.
Yes, by Reinforcing the ground under her feet in specific ways, Illya can make it collaborate with her efforts, increasing her performance tenfold. Onee-chan may be the one most skilled with Reinforcement due to sheer volume of practice, but Illya is an Alchemist. She knows materials better than anyone, what and how to reinforce to bring about exotic effects that will best serve her purposes.
Besides, one simply cannot live with Atalanta for as long as she's done without learning a thing or two about running.
So, no. Her heart isn't beating hard out of exertion, she's nowhere near that point. This is all due to excitement.
"▂▂▃▃▄▄▅▅!"
The roar from Berserker of Black hits her like a wave of physical pressure, throwing her hair to the wind and making her teeth clatter. The toothy smile on her lips freezes for a moment as her body hesitates against her will, lizard brain survival instincts rebelling against her intentions and trying to get her to turn tail and flee. But the moment is over and she pushes through, the smile on her lips growing even wider.
With some luck, she'll make it in time to see… there it is! Their first clash!
Catching up with Atalanta once she ran ahead would've been a fool's errand, but that's fine. Illya just wanted to have a clear view of the fight from the very start. Her Servant had wasted no time donning the pelt of the Calydonian Boar, which means she's giving this fight the respect it deserves. More telling though, is the fact that she's chosen to meet Berserker of Black's charge head on instead of resorting to her arrows.
In his Blackened state, his Noble Phantasm has weakened, but it's still perfectly capable of nullifying attacks below a certain rank. Atalanta's normal arrows would be worse than useless against him, they would be a waste of time. And so, they rush towards each other, eager to reach melee range.
While Atalanta bounds with graceful steps, nimble and fleet-footed until the very last moment, Berserker of Black rushes ahead like some sort of unstoppable war machine. The cursed flames and smoke, the very air whirling around him like a living comet as he makes his way forward, more like he's attacking the very distance between them rather than simply moving.
But such a charge cannot last long, not when both combatants can cross entire miles in a matter of moments. And so their first clash is swift and brutal, the mighty axe-sword of Berserker of Black swinging down with a sonic boom, raising a cloud of dust and making the very earth shatter as the blow connects… with the ground.
Even as Illya's eyes water under the blown dust buffeting her face, a smirk remains firmly in her place. Atalanta may be a Berserker, but she's not dumb. The mentality of the Calydonian Boar won't start taking over until she's sunk much deeper into the fight and starts to really lose herself. For now, her animalistic instinct and thought patterns come mainly from her leonine traits. And felines never attack head on if they can help it.
A purple blur snakes around Berserker of Black to capitalize on the opening his attack created, claws glinting under the flickering flames before they take a swipe at his exposed back. They find no purchase, scratching harmlessly against the steel-like skin of the towering monster. But that's fine.
Berserker of Black turns around with a roar, the sonic boom enough to push Atalanta back, and the wild swings that follow each packing enough power to reduce an average combatant into a fine red mist. The display of raw strength is certainly… impressive. Illya has to -reluctantly- admit that she can see how some silly girl with her head full idiotic revenge plots would believe the dumb brute invincible.
(She can see how she could've grown to believe that herself, back in the day.)
… But right here, right now? Finesse reigns supreme.
Atalanta's feline grace allows her to remain three steps ahead of the engine of destruction. A single misstep would be all it takes to turn the tides, but that doesn't matter because it'll never come to happen. Her Berserker doesn't make mistakes. Her Berserker doesn't lose to anyone. Her Berserker is the strongest in the world.
The uneven duel continues for a while. Mighty blows that would rend the sky failing to connect against the illusive figure quick enough to dance and weave between them. Sharp claws that would easily tear a lesser enemy to shreds failing to pierce the tough skin of the enormous demigod.
Illya watches the asymmetrical duel with bated breath. In spite of her previous thoughts, her heartbeat is thundering on her eardrums, deafening her to the outside world. No matter how much you trust someone, you can only watch them dancing at the razor's edge for so long before anxiety starts taking its toll, that's just how the human mind works.
The possibility of failure seems to grow bigger and bigger with every second, no matter how minuscule it originally appeared to be. Confidence becomes worry, worry becomes fear. Soon enough, second thoughts start plaguing the mind and one starts considering the upsides of cutting their losses while they're ahead.
And then… it happens. Berserker of Black moves in an unexpected manner, catching everyone by surprise. Atalanta's foot misses its mark and, for what's just the briefest of instants even for Illya's overclocked senses, everything stays still. Atalanta's leg high in the air as Berserker of Black bends backwards, his face less than an inch from her heel.
Realization immediately sinks in, this is it, what Illya has been counting on from the very start!
"He dodged!" She cheers with all her might, releasing all the bottled up stress and worry as loudly as she can manage. "You can hurt him!"
One of the most annoying skills in Berserker of Black's arsenal is his [Mind's Eye (Fake)], it grants him an instinct for danger, letting him know which attacks must be dodged no matter what even in his maddened state.
But he's not the only one with annoying skills under his belt. Atalatna's [Self Evolution] allows her to gradually adapt to overcome any challenge, simply by throwing herself at it enough time. Just because her claws couldn't hurt Berserker of Black at first, it doesn't mean that'll remain an absolute truth forever.
And now… now they have the tools to fight back.
The clash resumes almost instantly, the pause that seemed to last forever in Illya's mind having actually lasted less than a second, but the asymmetrical balance has been broken. Without his invulnerability, Berserker of Black is forced to abandon his full offensive… or so Illya would've thought. Instead, the maddened demigod opts to keep ignoring defense and push his maddened offensive forward even as his body starts accumulating more and more wounds.
Maybe… Maybe Illya was putting too much stock in his non-existent ability to reason.
Was the first dodge just a fluke? His instincts warning him of a danger where there used to be none making him move out of the way once, but not enough to make him change his combat style wholesale?
Inwardly shrugging, Illya tentatively accepts that reasoning, that's her best guess for the moment.
Atalanta's attacks gradually become more and more effective, her [Self Evolution] pushing her claws more and more into the specialized role of 'wounding Berserker of Black as deeply as possible'. Atalanta's means to wound Berserker of Black, weren't originally capable of taking the monster down easily, but the task becomes easier with every minute.
And he seems to have realized, Illya notes. As Berserker of Black gets more and more injured, he seems to gain a second wind. His attacks become even faster and heavier, to the point where the simple wind pressure of his swings can deal some damage to even those who perfectly dodge his strikes.
But… that's too little, too late.
The greatest mistake one can make against Atalanta is setting down for a protracted battle. As Berserker of Black becomes faster, Atalanta's dodges become tighter. As Berserker of Black becomes mightier, Atalanta's body adapts to his pressure. A last spurt of desperate strength from a badly wounded opponent won't be enough to trump someone who will constantly become stronger the longer the fight lasts.
When Atalanta finally tears Berserker of Black's heart from his back and crushes it between her claws, Illya feels considerably less satisfaction than she was hoping for. Just… the relief of a long and unpleasant task, finally complete. That adrenaline rush from the start, that anxiety and uncertainty that had her sweating buckets as she bounced on her tiptoes has long since faded.
When Berserker of Black starts moving again, the hole on his chest sealing shut as he turns around to continue fighting, he finds his head unceremoniously blown off by Atalanta's [Tauropolos Skia Thermokrasía - The Arrow that Eclipsed The Somber Sky], taking it down again before he can achieve anything worthwhile.
When Berserker of Black's body twitches funny instead of immediately disintegrating, Atalanta's second Noble Phantasm gores right through it without bothering to confirm whether it was necessary or not, just for good measure.
Then, the Blackened Servant disintegrates for good.
Illya examines the spot where the corrupted light motes slowly fade away, feeling nothing of the sense of achievement and victory she was hoping for. Instead, as she examines the empty spot where the enemy she's wanted to fight for so long used to be, her heart grows heavy, despondent and… disappointed.
Where's the sudden reversal? Where's the counterplay out of nowhere? Where's the trump card that turns the tables? The last minute burst of power that threatens to ruin everything? This… Was this thing really Herakles, the greatest of Greek heroes? Is this truly all it amounted to?
"This… this isn't it." She didn't even notice she was talking until the words echoed in her ear.
"Master?" Atalanta asks in a rare bout of verbosity.
"That cannot be it, right?" She asks, hoping she doesn't sound nearly as lost as she feels. "He was supposed to be so much… more."
To those words, her Servant simply grunts. As a Greek Hero herself, as an Argonaut, Atalanta knew Herakles better than most. In fact, very few could say to know the man better than his fellow Argonauts. If someone can tell how underwhelming this Blackened Servant ended up being, that's her.
"Damn, this was worthless." She mutters sulkily, kicking some dirt towards the last position of the vanished Servant. "Now I want to fight him at full power even more."
"Master…"
"Or even better!" She continues, perking up as she remembers some of Onii— Some of Demon Lord Re'em's Myths. "There was that one thing… Whatchacallit? Gigalos? Meganus? Titanus?"
"Master!" Atalanta protests, but Illya just laughs it off.
She came here to prove something, but jack and shit was all she proved in the end. Some day, though… some day for sure!
… Maybe even next time?
As the two of them make their way back to the group, they find the rest of the Red Faction cleaning up after their own battle, the Chaldeans are nowhere to be found and… Is that an Elephant-shaped indentation on the mountainside?
"I'm not going to ask." She finally announces after staring at it for a full minute.
"Good." Rin answers with a firm nod and a shit-eating grin. "Then I won't have to have to brag about how great Archer is."
"And what do you call what you're doing right now?" Illya challenges.
"Humble bragging." Rin answers without missing a beat, or an ounce of shame. "You can tell it's not a bad thing because it contains the word 'humble'."
"You wouldn't know what 'humble' is if it slapped your face with a rotten fish" Illya rolls her eyes. "Still have your Silver Bullet?"
"Of course, who do you take me for?"
"Someone who always makes flawless plans only to humbly mess them all up at the last moment, somehow."
"Gurk." Rin reacts as if someone had just stabbed her right through the heart. "It only happened once!"
Illya lets it go with a huff. In all fairness, Rin has gotten a lot better with time. But she still has a rather uncanny tendency to mess things up in bizarre ways when left to her own devices. She doesn't even have the family curse excuse anymore, Medea took care of that!
I have no intention of hiding my work behind a pay wall, but I do welcome patrons and donations.
I have a P-treon thing! A Ko-fi account too!
Just add "/Planeshunter" after the dot com and it should take you straight there.
If you have some spare change and feel my work deserves it, please consider throwing it my way. Maybe one day I'll be able to quit my shitty job and do this full time!