Chapter 85. Carnival of Rust
"Well, our duet turned out great, huh?" Ron said, looking at his Servant who was sitting next to him, focused on the chessboard. "We're like two peas in a pod!"
"Don't you dare compare me to such an insignificant creature like you." Mordred snorted, not taking her eyes off the pieces. "I am the heir of King Arthur, and you are just a foolish redhead."
"Oh, come on, don't be so arrogant." Ron smiled. "We both love adventures, fights, and... um... meat!"
"Ha! You think that makes us similar?" Mordred asked mockingly. "I fight for my honor and glory, while you fight for some friends and family. I eat meat because it's tasty and filling, while you're just greedy and gluttonous. We have nothing in common, except for hair color. And yours is pale and dull, while mine is bright and fiery."
"Well, well, no need to get so worked up." Ron tried to calm her down. "I'm just joking, you know that I respect you, right?"
"Hm..." Mordred paused, then nodded. "Alright, I don't entirely despise you either. After all, you're my Master, so I have to obey you. But only within reason!"
"Thanks, how kind of you." Ron said ironically. "Now let's make a move, or Harry and Kurisu will surpass us."
"Alright, alright." Mordred agreed. "Look, I came up with a brilliant plan. We'll take their queen, and then..."
"Wait, wait." Ron interrupted her. "Can't you see they've checkmated us in three moves?"
"What?" Mordred quickly looked at the chessboard and noticed the trap they fell into. "What the hell? How did they do that? It's impossible!"
"I don't know, I don't know." Ron sighed. "Maybe they have some secret trick. Or maybe it's because they have some Alter-Servant giving them hints?"
"Alter-Servant?" Kurisu, who was sitting across from them with Harry, asked. "What's that?"
"They're Servants who are alternative versions of the original heroes." Harry explained. "They usually have opposite personalities and motives compared to their prototypes. For example, Jeanne d'Arc is a saintly and kind girl, while Alter Jeanne d'Arc... is an extremely complex character..." he said thoughtfully.
"Oh..." Kurisu smiled. "Judging by your face, you like her?"
Harry immediately blushed. What? Jeanne? He likes her? Why did Kurisu assume that?
"No... we just went through so much together!" he managed to say.
"True." Ron confirmed. "We went through the Triwizard Tournament together and fought against You-Know-Who with Cedric. Can you believe it?"
"Wow... but we've digressed from the topic..." Kurisu corrected them.
"But she's cool, though."
"Interesting..." Kurisu leaned back, lost in thought. "Harry, tell me about your girlfriend."
Harry glanced at Jeanne Alter, who was sitting on the couch playing with his owl, Bukley. She smiled and scratched the bird behind the ear, as if forgetting about everything else in the world.
"She..." he began, searching for the right words. "She is a very complex person. I've seen her in different situations and moods. She's just like us..."
"So, apart from her monstrous strength and desire to fight for the Holy Grail, she's no different from ordinary people?" replied Harry.
"Nothing more," agreed Harry, feeling that he had no arguments, nor the desire to find them.
"How plausible would the answers be if I tried to interview her as Joan of Arc?" asked Harry, unable to come up with a response.
Harry couldn't find an answer to that question. But luckily, Mrs. Weasley came from the kitchen and her presence freed him from this obligation.
"Harry, my boy," Mrs. Weasley began, "I'm still amazed by your company. Servants, time travelers... Who would have thought we'd end up in such company!"
Harry raised his gaze from his cup and looked at Mrs. Weasley with curiosity. She had always been a curious woman, an enthusiast who understood things, but today she seemed particularly alive.
"To be honest, Mrs. Weasley, I still can't grasp that all of this is real. Servants, time travel... How do you feel about them?" asked Harry.
Mrs. Weasley set aside the pie dough and pondered before answering.
"Well, Harry," she began, "I believe that every person and every creature deserves respect and love, even if they're a Servant or a time traveler. Jeanne, Magesé, I don't know about your past, but I wouldn't judge you based on it. After all, you're here now to help us, right?"
Jeanne nodded and smiled, while Magesé grunted in agreement.
"The past is only a part of our story," Mrs. Weasley continued. "Each of us has our own adventures, mistakes, and successes. We shouldn't judge people solely based on their appearance or abilities. What matters is how they use their gifts and strengths."
Harry nodded, fully agreeing with Mrs. Weasley. Her words resonated with him, especially now that he had encountered new worlds of magic and time travel. He looked at Magesé and Jeanne, wondering if they would decide to share their stories. Meanwhile, Fujimaru lay in wait at the door.
"Come here," Ritsuka whispered from behind the door, motioning for Harry to join him. "I have something to tell you."
He obediently followed him.
"Is something wrong?" Harry asked when they reached the corridor.
"No, but if you ever call upon your Servant or... if it happens that you make a contract with someone else's Servant, protect them. They can perform acts of bravery and display incredible strength, but alone, you will be defenseless."
"I wouldn't want to..." Harry said uncertainly.
"Listen, Harry," Fujimaru addressed him. "It's possible that you are now turning down the last opportunity to summon a Servant in a calm environment."
"Do you know something?"
"No," Fujimaru kindly replied. "But I've had a foreboding for more than just one day now..."
"So have I."
"When did it start for you?"
"On September 1st. There was a feeling as if something gigantic and horrible was hanging over us."
"Exactly," Fujimaru reluctantly agreed. "And each day it gets closer..." he murmured. "And time is accelerating its pace."
And time truly was accelerating its pace, causing Harry to feel like an unstoppable train, dragging him towards an unknown whirlpool of events that would engulf everyone.
The next morning, Mrs. Weasley woke up Harry. Within ten minutes, all the children - some wide awake and others with sleepy faces - were having their breakfast, whispering to each other about something.
"I must say, today we have been bestowed with a truly great honor," Mr. Weasley addressed the family. "We are being accompanied by His Majesty himself."
These words made Mordred, who had just been calmly having her breakfast, choke on her tea.
"Can you talk to your father," Ron whispered to her.
"I already figured it out," Mordred grumbled in response.
Harry was the only one who couldn't understand His Majesty's decision.
"But why?" he asked in confusion. "His Majesty must have more important matters than accompanying me to Hogwarts!"
"His Majesty cares deeply about his country and its inhabitants," Mr. Weasley replied. "To them, you are not just a boy, but a symbol of hope for victory over the Dark Lord. And His Majesty wants to support you in that."
"But that's madness!" Harry exclaimed. "Support is one thing, risking one's life is something else entirely!"
Mordred sneered contemptuously, and Jeanne slapped her.
"Don't talk nonsense, Harry," she said. "His Majesty is not a coward, but a true king. He is not afraid to face danger for his people."
"But I don't want him to suffer because of me!" Harry retorted. "I'm not asking him to protect me!"
"I understand your feelings, Harry," Mr. Weasley said. "But you have to understand that you are not alone in this fight. You can rely on your friends and allies. And then no one will suffer because of you."
Harry sighed and lowered his head. He understood that Mr. Weasley and Jeanne were right, but he still couldn't help but worry about His Majesty. He knew that Arthur Pendragon was not just a king, but a legendary hero who had saved Britain from many enemies. He had read about his exploits in books and heard about them from many people. He admired his strength, wisdom, and bravery. He didn't want such a person to risk his life because of him.
"Harry," Mr. Weasley said quietly, "I know what you're feeling. You think you're not worthy of the honor of accompanying His Majesty. But you're wrong. His Majesty believes in you. He wants to help you in your destiny."
Harry lifted his head and looked at Mr. Weasley. There was sincere kindness and respect in his eyes. Harry felt a warm feeling blossom in his heart. He realized that Mr. Weasley was not lying. He really cared about him like a son. And he was not alone in this. He had friends who would always be by his side. He had a godfather who loved him like his own child. He had Professor Dumbledore, who believed in him as his student. And he had His Majesty, who wanted to take care of him.
Harry smiled and nodded.
"Okay," he said. "I agree. I would be glad if His Majesty accompanies me to Hogwarts. I am grateful to him for his trust and support. And I hope to appreciate his care for me."
Mr. Weasley smiled upon hearing his words. He checked the time.
"His Majesty will arrive in an hour. Everyone be ready by then."
An hour later, a diverse group of excited young people gathered at Grimm Square. Each stood near a heavy cart loaded with luggage, waiting for something they had no idea about.
Sirius paced back and forth across the square, nervously looking around. With his restlessness, he strongly resembled the large black dog he often pretended to be. Deciding to occupy himself, and at the same time entertain his godson, he pulled out a photo album from his pocket and showed Harry the pictures. In them, he saw many former members of the Order of the Phoenix, but unfortunately, they had long been killed in battle, driven to madness, or brutally wounded to the point that their loved ones could no longer recognize them. His voice was soft and sad, and his eyes glistened with tears.
"It must be very difficult," muttered Harry, looking at the next photo, "to lose close friends."
He felt his heart squeeze with sympathy for Sirius. He knew he himself had lost many loved ones, and that he too missed having them around.
"Sorry," Sirius snapped out of his daze and quickly hid the album back in his pocket. He tried to smile, but the smile was distorted by pain. "But if you ever feel sad or lonely..." He reached out toward Harry, as if wanting to hug him, but then stopped, unsure of how to act.
Harry instinctively smiled at his godfather, hugged him, and patted his back. He wanted to tell him that he wasn't alone, that he had friends who supported him, and that he could always count on him. But the words wouldn't come out, so he simply said, "Thank you, Sirius. You're amazing." And it was true. Sirius was amazing. He was the only remaining member of his family and he was like a father, a brother, and a friend to him.
At that moment, the silence was broken by the roar of engines, and Harry and his friends saw only tire tracks in the snow leading to an invisible barrier. They heard someone open a door and step out of a car.
"Stay where you are, don't move!" a voice shouted. "We are about to remove the invisibility cloak."
Harry, Ron, and Hermione froze in place, staring at the empty space in front of them. A second later, they saw the invisibility cloak shift and reveal a whole column of luxury cars. From several limousines, sharply dressed people quickly emerged, shining in the sun. On their lapels, Harry noticed badges in the shape of a golden lion against a red cross - it was Arthur Pendragon's coat of arms and his knights. On their wrists, Harry saw wristwatches with magical functions that displayed time, weather, news, and other useful information. Without a word, they loaded the luggage inside. When they finished with the luggage, they gestured to their new passengers to take their seats.
"Well, shall we go?" Sirius asked, hugging Harry's shoulders. "Don't be afraid, they won't eat you. They're just doing their job."
"Yes, yes, of course," mumbled Harry, trying to hide his embarrassment. "Thank you for everything, Sirius. Be careful, okay?"
"Don't worry about me, kid," Sirius smiled. "I'll be fine. Just hold on and don't let these sticklers intimidate you. They don't understand anything about life anyway."
"Sirius, don't say that," Hermione scolded. "They're here to protect us. And besides, it's Arthur Pendragon! He's one of the most powerful and mysterious kings of our time! You can't imagine how curious I am to learn more about him and his knights!"
"Yes, yes, Hermione, we all know how much you love studying," Ron snorted. "But I don't think he's all that interesting. More scary and cruel, actually. You heard how he fought against Voldemort and his Death Eaters? He spared no one, not even women and children. He's like a machine, without feelings and conscience.
"Ron, don't talk nonsense," Hermione intervened. "He's not cruel, he's fair and kind. He does what is necessary to protect the world from evil. And just because he doesn't show his feelings doesn't mean he doesn't have them. Maybe he just hides them behind a mask, so as not to show his vulnerability.
"Yes, yes, of course," Ron sarcastically replied. "And maybe he wears a mask because he's terrifying and ugly. Or because he's actually a woman. You know, there's a theory that King Arthur Pendragon actually had a daughter.
"Ron, you're spouting absurdities," Hermione exclaimed. "That's just fanfiction made up by some fans. There's no evidence that Arthur Pendragon is a woman. It's ridiculous!
"Well, why not?" Ron stubbornly said. "Anything is possible in this mad world. Maybe he's not even human, but some kind of alien or robot. Or a dragon. Yes, a dragon, that would be cool.
"Ron, you've completely lost it," Harry said, trying to hold back laughter. "Arthur Pendragon is a dragon. That's the funniest thing I've heard in my life.
"Well, why not?" Ron repeated. "We'll never see him without his mask anyway. Maybe he just wants to confuse us and deceive us. Maybe he doesn't exist at all, and it's just some kind of trick or illusion.
"Ron, you're talking nonsense," Hermione said. "Arthur Pendragon exists, and he's a real person. And an Ally. And he's our ally and defender. And we should respect and be grateful to him. And we should be prepared to listen to him or do what he asks of us. Because he knows better than us what is needed to defeat Voldemort.
"Fine, fine, Hermione," Ron gave in. "I get it, you're a fan of his. But don't take everything so seriously. It's just fanfiction, not reality.
"Ron, this is not just fanfiction, this is our life," Hermione said. "And we need to be serious and responsible. Otherwise, we won't survive in this war.
"Alright, alright," Ron said. "I'll be serious and responsible. But only if you'll be cheerful and relax for a minute!
"Ron!" Hermione exclaimed. "You're incorrigible!"
Judging by her tone and expression, she didn't know whether to be angry at Ron or to hug him.
Waving goodbye to Sirius, Harry hurried to get into one of the cars. As he climbed inside, he noticed the solid thickness of the door - it felt more like a sturdy house wall. Once the door closed, all the sounds of the street stayed outside, and a soft melody of classical music reached his ears. In front of him, Harry saw a table with drinks, and on the other side of the table, there was a figure wearing a lion mask.
"Good morning, Harry Potter," a muffled and unrecognizable voice came from under the mask. "Are you ready to return to Hogwarts?"
Harry's breath caught, and he became flustered.
"Good morning... Your Majesty," he stammered. "But what about the Night Knight?"
"He hasn't been active for several months since his conductor, Stan Shunpike, was arrested on charges of being associated with the Death Eaters. His driver, Ernie Prang, was also detained on suspicion of being an accomplice," the voice explained.
These news turned Harry's world upside down. He simultaneously believed and didn't believe the words, although he had definitely read about Stan Shunpike at the beginning of autumn.
"Stan Shunpike is in Azkaban, from where Voldemort plans to release his followers. There's a possibility that he will join the ranks of the Death Eaters during the next mass escape. That's what happens when an amateur storyteller brings trouble upon himself," the voice continued.
"But he'll be okay, won't he?" Harry asked, hoping for the best.
"That solely depends on him," the voice replied. "And on whose side he chooses when the time for decision comes."
Harry looked away, feeling the penetrating gaze from beneath the lion mask. Glancing at the car window, he saw the swiftly passing landscapes and wondered how he missed the moment of the convoy's departure.
"What awaits us next?" he pondered, unsure where to steer the conversation.
The hidden eyes behind the mask carefully evaluated Harry.
"Only struggle," the voice said. "A struggle for our future, for our world, for our lives. A struggle against those who want to destroy everything we value and love. A struggle against those who know no mercy or compassion. A struggle against true evil."
Harry felt his throat tighten. He understood who the voice was talking about. He knew what awaited him. He understood what he would have to do. He knew he couldn't refuse. He knew he wasn't alone.
"I'm ready," he said firmly. "I'm ready to fight. I'm ready to do or say whatever you ask of me. I'm ready to become who I am meant to be."
The figure in the mask nodded approvingly.
"I knew you would say that, Harry Potter. I believe I will not be let down by you," the voice said.
Harry flinched at these words. He couldn't believe his ears. He couldn't understand their meaning. He couldn't say anything in response. He just stared at the lion mask, which concealed the face of his companion, his protector.
"What must I do?" Harry asked, a question that was only natural to ask.
Alecto Carrow stood in a dark room surrounded by books on black magic and artifacts. She held a red crystal in her hand, within which pulsed a glowing heart. This was her catalyst for summoning the Avenger-class Servant that she had found on one of her expeditions. She hoped that this Servant would be a worthy ally in her plans for revenge against the world that had rejected her and her master.
She chanted a spell, and the crystal shattered into pieces. Out of them emerged black smoke, which formed into a human figure. Before Alecto stood a man in a black cloak and hat, with long light hair. His eyes burned with yellow fire, and his face bore an expression of cold rage.
"Who are you?" Alecto asked, feeling excitement and fear.
"I am the one who will avenge all the suffering inflicted upon me. I am the one who never gives up and never forgets. I am the one who bears the name of Count Monte Cristo. I am Edmond Dantes, the Avenger-class Servant. And you, are you my Master?" he replied with a loud and sharp voice.
"Yes, I am Alecto Carrow, sorceress and Death Eater. I serve Lord Voldemort, the most powerful dark lord in history. I have summoned you to help me destroy all who oppose our cause and free the world from unworthy beings," she said, trying to sound confident and proud.
"Haha! Do you think I will listen to you and your master? Do you think I will serve your cause? You underestimate me, Master. I do not know who this Voldemort is, nor do I care what he wants. I have no interest in politics and ideals. I am only interested in one thing - revenge. Revenge for what has been done to me, for what has been taken from me, for what I have been denied. I exact revenge upon those who deserve it, not those you dislike. I am an Avenger, not your servant," he declared, laughing at her.
"How dare you speak to me in such a tone? You should respect me and obey my commands. I am your Master, and I have three sealed orders that can make you do whatever I want," Alecto exclaimed, showing him her hands with the red marks.
"Three sealed orders? Ha! That means nothing to me. I am a Servant who can defy the will of my Master. I am a Servant who can discard my sealed orders. I am a Servant who can kill my Master if they try to manipulate me. You cannot control me, Master. You can only hope that I won't turn against you," he said, smirking.
"You... you... you madman! You're a suicide! You don't know who you've gotten involved with! I will make you submissive and obedient! I will make you my weapon! I will make you my Servant!" Alecto yelled, unable to contain her anger.
"Try if you dare. But remember, I am not like other Servants. I am the one who fears neither death nor suffering. I am the one who cannot be persuaded or threatened. I am the one who will not break or surrender. I am the one who always gets what he wants. I am the one who never forgives and never forgets. I am Edmond Dantes, the Avenger. And I am your nightmare," he said, staring at her with his piercing eyes.