108: Minotauros

Minotauros moves at a leisurely pace through the familiar halls of the Labyrinth. He has no need to rush; these particular prey had already found themselves in the most trap-laden portion of Daedalus's great maze.

"Heh… heh…" The Berserker laughs softly to himself, recalling their miserable screams. But a moment later, he falls silent. That blond bearded man, who smelled like the sea - there was something about the way that man looked at him…

"█████████, huh?" The man asked. "I'll remember it, I promise. In the end, you were just another prisoner kept down here… I'm sorry I wasn't able to save you too."

Minotauros groans, clutching his head in one massive hand. "The…seus…"

What was it? There was something in their eyes that was the same, but what-?

He emerges into a new room - the chamber that had been blocked off by the boulder trap earlier - and there, glittering in the torchlight is… a pile of gold?

Minotauros scans the room - and finds nothing. His prey is nowhere to be seen. In one corner, he can see a pile of charred something, from which the reek of burnt hair rises and floods his nostrils - but nothing else is there to be found. And so, with a confused look on his face, he steps forward and examines the pile - no, it isn't a pile. It's a fur.

"Golden… fleece?" Minotauros wonders aloud as he reaches down to touch-

"Oh!~" It's so soft! Amazing!

He starts to lower his head onto it- no! Minotauros knows he cannot fall asleep so easily! Even if the fleece is a luxury he could not have possibly dreamed of in life!

"Now, hit him, Master!" a voice shouts from above, and the Berserker starts to turn-

"[Gandr]!" A black bolt strikes Minotauros.

"Gandr?" I asked.

"That's right," Olga Marie-Sensei said. "It's an old Scandinavian curse with roots in runecraft - a primitive curse that directly attacks the target's 'healthiness'. Of course, that very primitiveness is to its advantage - Gandr is easily enhanced by just channeling more mana into it, and different Mage families can achieve variations on the spell that specialize its power into particularly useful effects. The Edelfelt, for example, are famous for achieving physical damage akin to a firearm with their so-called [Finn Shot], and I've heard rumors of a set of Mystic Eyes that could fire Gandr that directly stopped the target's heart."

"Ah," I mutter numbly. I've solved it! That spontaneous heart attack I had in Aozaki's workshop, I've figured it out!

"All that being said, the Animusphere variant of the spell is focused on inflicting temporary paralysis. Health is vitality, and vitality is motion - that's the principle your [Gandr] will function on. Sickness and bullet wounds are of no use in a battle between Servants, but a loss of movement is deadly, even if it only lasts a moment."

Minotauros freezes, He cannot move a single muscle. And the next moment, the blond man who smelled like the sea plunges down onto his back, driving a dagger into his neck.

The next moment, the paralysis ends. Minotauros bucks backwards, trying to throw the man off - but he finds that the Greek has already dropped off, now rolling between his massive legs, slashing open the Berserker's femoral artery.

"Grr..AAH!" Minotauros lashes out with his one of his axes, but-

"[Gandr]!" Once more, his muscles refuse to obey his commands, and the Greek lunges, lopping off his left thumb, the axe slipping from his grip and falling to the ground.

"You…! Above…!" He turns, and finally sees the man with Alter Ego's face - safely perched in the coils of a serpentine creature - a monster not native to the labyrinth, unnoticed because of the smell of burning hair blocking its scent, and because the Berserker had not looked up at where it had dug its claws into the wall and wrapped its mass around a torch.

"Now, come! [Drakon Kholkikos]!" Jason shouted, and the fleece he threw on the floor gleamed as a serpentine form emerged from it.

For a moment, I got excited. For just a moment. "Wait, why's it so small!?" It was barely bigger than those wyvern trash mobs we saw in France, and it didn't even have wings!

"Huh!? What do you mean, small!? He's twice the size of a person and his bite is deadly! Don't look down on- OI!" Jason terminated his boast with a scream as the Dragon tried to bite him. "Don't bite me! I'm your master now, you moron! I know I didn't have the authority to summon you as my younger self, but I'm the owner of the fleece now, you stupid lizard!"

The Colchian Dragon let out a derisive snort.

"Obviously we struck from above," The Greek says with a grin. "People don't often look up, after all."

Minotauros freezes once again. Not because of a spell, but because-

"I… people?" He asks, raising his empty hand to his head.

"Yeah. That's what Theseus told me. Isn't that right, Asterios?"

His groaning rises, and he astralizes his other axe as he leans back, clutching his head with both hands. He understands now. The similarity in this man's eyes, and the eyes at that time - they were both looking at a 'person' instead of a 'monster', weren't they?

Pain blossoms in his chest.

When a Servant is blackened, their Spirit Origin rages out of control. All subtlety is discarded. Their strongest aspect is brought to the fore, and every other element is deemphasized in favor of winning with raw power.

Why, then, did the blackened version of Jason manifest in such a way? In almost every aspect, Jason Alter is weaker than his unaltered counterpart. He can neither summon his crew nor command them. His minor draconic trait gained as the victor of the Fleece is irrelevant in almost all contexts. The dragon he can manifest is a meager example of a phantasmal, incapable of even the fiery breath shown by its kin.

However, none of these elements is the true strength of the Heroic Spirit known as Jason.

Jason's strongest ability was always his capacity to plan and scheme, a capacity that only ever showed its worth when he was on the back foot. In other words, his skill [Inspiration at Death's Door] was always his strongest ability.

For the Jason that emerged from the Alter Ego's cursed mud, the Jason that has already lost everything and is a single setback away from ending his own life, it is fundamentally impossible for [Inspiration at Death's Door] to produce anything but its optimal output.

The normal Jason would have failed. The thought to mentally attack Minotauros based on a single anecdote he heard from a crewmate in passing would simply not have occurred to him. And even if it had, he would have grown overconfident the moment the Berserker seemed impaired. He would have followed it up with a boast, or an offer of recruitment, and been bashed to pieces by the mad bull.

For Jason Alter, whose failure is ever before him, who can never forget his past sins and inadequacies - such overconfidence is fundamentally impossible.

All that is to say, the moment Minotauros shows weakness, the very instant he covers his eyes and leans back - Jason lunges forward and plunges his dragon venom-coated dagger into his heart without a second's hesitation.

"Ahhh… Ohhh…" The Minotaur groans and falls to his knees, staring at Jason with tears in his eyes. "You…"

"Sorry it came to this, Asterios," The Rider says, sighing. "But even if you are a person, that doesn't mean I'm going to treat you with kid gloves. You're in the way, and I've got another guy mistaken for a monster I need to save first."

Asterios lowers his head and gives a small nod, as his white fur begins to melt off his form, revealing human skin beneath. "Eury..ale. Island… north… two mountain. I… hide. Help, please…"

Jason closes his eyes, and gives a small nod. "Yeah, I'll be sure to recruit her. Thanks."

"No…" the Berserker shakes his head. "Thank you. Asterios… I, forgot."

Then, he dissolves into golden dust and disappears.

…

"Hey, Jason, you wanna ask your dragon to let me down now?" I ask.

"Nah."

Compendium Update: Jason Alter

Skill Discernment:

Inspiration at Death's Door: A - Inspiration Beyond the Denouement: A

The flashes of inspiration received only in desperate circumstances by the Unaltered Jason come at a steady pace. So long as he can hold his spirit, so long as he possesses a reason to rise above the soul-destroying despair also inflicted by this skill, Jason Alter stands as a tactical genius on par with the likes of Zhuge Liang and Sima Yi.

Noble Phantasm Revealed:

Drakon Kholkikos: Guardian of the Fleece

Rank: A

Type: Anti-Unit

Range: 1~20

Maximum number of targets: 10 people

The Dragon that originally protected the Golden Fleece, now summoned by said object for some reason or another. Not a particularly powerful example of a Dragon, as noted by this Noble Phantasm's "Anti-Unit" designation. He cannot breath fire, but he does have a poisonous bite. Also, if you plant his teeth in the ground, some Dragon Tooth warriors will grow the next day! You just need to get some teeth from him first.

Good luck with that.

By the way, this Noble Phantasm allows Jason to manifest the Fleece as required. It is pleasantly soft to the touch.