The moon hung high in the velvety expanse of the night sky, a pale orb casting an ethereal glow over the peaceful village, near Florence in Italy, its light diffusing through the wisps of languid mist that clung to the cobblestoned streets. Once bustling with the laughter of children, the chatter of neighbors, and the melodies of life, the village now lay shrouded in oppressive darkness. The stillness, a harbinger of impending doom, was gruesomely interrupted by the faint foreboding crackling of flames, quietly at first, but growing with a sinister intensity with each passing moment.
Within the heart of the village, the tranquil air suddenly became thick with an unsettling mixture of panic and despair, suffocating the very essence of hope. The villagers ripped from the realm of blissful slumber, were jolted into a hellscape of nightmares by the presence of an encroaching inferno. They stumbled out of their once-soothing abodes, their faces etched with a terror so profound it seemed to carve into their very souls. The flames, voracious and merciless, devoured everything in their path with insatiable hunger, leaving behind trails of charred destruction and a putrid shroud of smoke that engulfed the senses.
The once charming houses, pillars of comfort and security, now stood as haunting spectacles, their walls crumbling under the merciless onslaught of the relentless blaze. The roofs, once a shield against the fury of the elements, were now mere fodder for the insidious dance of flames that flickered with a perverse delight. Shadowy tendrils writhed and twisted along the skeletal remnants of walls, mocking the fragility of existence with their grotesque contortions. The very air seemed to tremble under the weight of an unseen malevolence, tangible fear resonating through every whispered crackle and scorching ember.
From the deepest recesses of the village, a cacophony of desperate cries pierced the night. Families huddled together, their trembling forms entwined in a futile attempt to stave off the encroaching terror. Panic surged through veins once filled with the rhythm of life, setting hearts ablaze with an inferno of trepidation. The menacing crackling and roaring of the flames echoed like an unholy symphony, reverberating through the souls of all who bore witness. Each flicker, each flare, seethed with primal malice as if the very essence of fear had taken form within the consuming fire.
Within the heart of this chaos, a single question lingered, a haunting inquiry seeking to pierce the suffocating veil of fear: what monstrous force unleashed this wrathful conflagration upon the once pristine village?
Little did the villagers know that the flames, voracious and insatiable, were not mere products of natural devastation. No, these infernal tendrils were the sinister creation of the descendants of a legendary serpent spoken of only in hushed whispers and forgotten tales, born from the dark realms of Dante's Inferno itself.
Spawned from the very depths of hell, these abominable beings were known as the Inferno Serpents, cursed creatures that inherited the malevolence and power of their infamous ancestor. With scales that glinted like obsidian under the moon's baleful gaze, their serpentine bodies twisted and writhed with an unholy vitality, each movement exuding an aura of otherworldly dread.
These descendants of the serpentine deity reveled in chaos and destruction, their existence bound to the perpetuation of infernal flames. The fire that engulfed the village was their wicked orchestration, a malicious symphony conducted by the slithering horrors that prowled through the heart of the conflagration.
With eyes burning like molten gold, the Inferno Serpents darted through the engulfed streets, their fiery breath igniting everything in their path. Their scaly hides seemed charged with an infernal energy, pulsating with demonic power. As they unleashed their malevolent fury, the villagers caught fleeting glimpses of their menacing forms, reflections of torment and despair.
The winds carried the whispers of ancient tales, recounting the maleficent deeds of the Serpent of Dante's Inferno. Fear gripped the hearts of the villagers as they realized their encounters with these monstrous descendants were not mere chance or misfortune, but the culmination of a lineage steeped in darkness and damnation.
"Hrunting!"
Yet, even in the face of such formidable adversaries, hope shone through the darkness as the battle ensued against the Inferno Serpents. From the depths of the infernal flames, a red trail jetted and steer to the largest serpent that didn't have the time to move its head before a crimson explosion took it and the nearby menaces to ash.
Amidst the smoldering wreckage, a figure emerged, her presence commanding, her gaze piercing, and wielding a staff. Clad in resplendent robes and adorned with intricate sigils, Princess Medea of Colchis, the enchantress of ancient Greek lore.
Bolts of searing flame shot forth, engulfing the serpents and leaving trails of smoldering destruction in their wake. The infernal creatures recoiled, their scaled hides scorched by the intensity of her mystical fire.
But it was not only destructive spells that Medea employed. With a wave of her hand, tendrils of icy mist coiled around the serpents, freezing them in their slithering tracks. Their movements slowed, encased in a glittering prison of frost, rendering them vulnerable to the subsequent onslaught from her allies.
An arrow pierced through the frozen air, guided by unwavering aim and imbued with divine precision. It found its mark with unerring accuracy, piercing the heart of a serpent, causing it to convulse in agony. The arrow's owner revealed herself, cutting through the infernal miasma with quiet grace and unparalleled skill.
Atalanta let her arrows fly with precision, finding their mark with deadly accuracy, decimating the serpents and leaving none unscathed. Her eyes, keen and perceptive, assessed the chaotic battlefield, identifying the serpents' weak points with consummate ease and past experiences. Drawing her bowstring taut, she unleashed a deluge of arrows, each one a testament to her lethal accuracy. The arrows whistled through the air, their path unerring as they found their mark. The serpents writhed and recoiled, unable to escape the swift and devastating onslaught.
Her remarkable swiftness and agility enabled her to evade the serpents' quick lunges and venomous fangs, her movements a mesmerizing dance of fluidity and precision. Amidst the chaos, another hero appeared to the aid of the villagers.
With an aura of indomitable martial prowess, his eyes, sharp and focused, scanned the scene, quickly identifying the serpents' patterns and weaknesses. With lightning-fast movement and unmatched agility, Li Shuwen engaged the serpents in close-quarters combat. His strikes were precise, powerful, and executed with seamless grace. Each blow landed with devastating impact, shattering scales and bones alike. As his fists and kicks flew through the chaos, the serpents writhed in agony, unable to withstand the sheer force of Li Shuwen's assault.
Li Shuwen's mastery of multiple martial arts styles became evident as he seamlessly transitioned from one technique to another. His attacks were a symphony of speed, strength, and finesse, leaving no room for the serpents to counter. With every move he made, Li Shuwen demonstrated his unwavering dedication to his craft and his commitment to protecting the innocent.
And finally, from above, a renowned hero from another world glided down. Shirou Emiya, donned in his distinctive red cloak, traced Kanshou and Bakuya and fired one of the married blades at the nearest snake. The snake's burning head separated from its neck as Shirou kick it to another one.
Without missing a beat, Shirou swiftly traces a flaming Noble Phantasm at a few, unleashing a wave of scorching destruction upon its unsuspecting target. The second snake, caught off guard by the unforeseen attack, hissed fiercely as Shirou closed the distance between them. Guided by his heightened instincts and unwavering determination, he unleashed a flurry of strikes with Kanshou and Bakuya, their gleaming blades leaving behind trails of light in their wake.
Each strike landed with utmost precision, severing the scales and flesh of the encroaching snakes. The rhythmic clash of steel echoed through the air as Shirou's agility and unparalleled combat prowess allowed him to effortlessly navigate his way through the midst of the menacing creatures.
Within moments, the inferno serpents' numbers dwindled under their devastating onslaught. Medea's magecraft, coupled with Atalanta's lethal accuracy, Li Shuwen's martial expertise, and Shirou's swords mastery, proved to be an unstoppable combination. The villagers, witnessing the bravery and skill of these four legendary figures, felt a renewed sense of hope and began to support them in their fight against the serpents.
The battle reached its climax as the Servants' final strikes landed true, decimating the remaining serpents. The battlefield once shrouded in chaos, now lay quiet and still.
Shirou took out a traced spear from a dying serpent before he swiftly maims for its head, ensuring the possibly last serpent's head, before he look across the battlefield, taking in the devastation and assessing the aftermath of the village. "Was that the last of them?"
As he surveyed the wrecked village, Shirou couldn't help but feel a mixture of relief and concern. The silence that now enveloped the previously chaotic scene indicated that the immediate threat had been neutralized, but the damage inflicted upon the village was undeniable. Buildings lay in ruins, innocent lives were lost, and the faint aroma of smoke lingered in the air.
Li Shuwen, his aged gaze unwavering and analytical, studied the surroundings, searching for any signs of residual danger. With a slight nod, he replied, "It seems so for now. The remnants of the serpents have been thoroughly vanquished."
Medea, standing beside Shirou, her hands still radiant with the remnants of her spells, added, "Indeed, their presence has ceased. I detect no hostilities in the immediate vicinity."
Atalanta also scanned the surroundings, her eyes darting across the ravaged landscape. Her voice carried a hint of caution as she said, "Be vigilant. Although the immediate threat hath been eliminated, 'tis wise to remain on guard. There may be more hidden foes lurking in the shadows."
They search more of the area around them, but find none, Shirou nodded after the insights and perspectives, "Then this battle seems to have reached its conclusion, but there is still a lot to be done; let's assess the damage, tend to the wounded, and ensure the safety of the remaining inhabitants."
His mind was already racing with thoughts of the next steps. They nodded and set their plans into motion, executing their respective tasks diligently among the group characterized by a shared sense of urgency, collaboration, and support.
As they moved through the village and proceed to help the people, Shirou thought back to half a year and months ago when he had been sent here in this world by two of the last beings he would think to save him wounded and nearly mutilated on the brink of death. Well, he could suppose it was a point why they had cared enough; the Counter Force sensed that humanity had diminished to near-extinction deemed enough to interfere while the Will of the World felt her planet on the complete verge of destruction. Considering that he is the last hero of the modern era, and the favored agent of Alaya, both Wills had established their hope and conviction to him to someday go back and, thoroughly prepared this time, fully destroy the ORT and safeguard the remaining remnants of mankind.
And by thoroughly prepared, he didn't expect to receive a permanent set of command seals on the back of his hand and the ability to summon every Servant from the Throne of Heroes through the Lesser Holy Grail from Fuyuki being forcibly buried and integrated deep within his soul, turning him into a Holy Grail Vessel, which shouldn't be possible considering he's entirely human. But then again, he is a Heroic Spirit, and was mitigated by Avalon implanted into him again by a stubborn Arturia whose heart can't take him being attracted by trouble.
He twitches a smile. That woman, worried sick for his safety warms his heart once again. She was leaking tears from her beautiful eyes with puff-red cheeks as he recounts the trials and tribulations of his life to her after the Fifth Holy Grail War while laying his head on her lap and being diligently treated by Nightingale.
Quite unfortunate for her when Merlin and her rioting knights, Mordred lamentably, we're watching the scene with the other Servants.
Shirou's focus shifted toward the villagers in need. He shifted to assist the other three Servants in using their abilities to heal the wounded and provide aid to the afflicted individuals.
The interactions extended beyond mere words. Atalanta's gentle touch brought comfort to the wounded, her soothing voice providing solace amidst pain, particularly with the children. Medea and Li's commanding presence instilled a sense of security within the villagers, assuring them that they were under their watchful eye while they made it clear that their well-being was their top priority. Shirou, with his empathetic nature, listened attentively to the concerns and needs of the inhabitants, ensuring their voices were heard and their well-being prioritized.
Shirou observed the people, his gaze shifted from one wounded individual to another, his mind filled with a deep sense of empathy and concern. He carefully examined their injuries, noting the severity and complexity of each wound.
His thoughts were consumed by the pain etched on their faces, the weariness in their eyes, and the visible signs of suffering they bore. They just lost their homes and their loved ones.
Shirou focused his mind, channeling his magical energy into the process of tracing the potential to transform their lives, bring a glimmer of hope, and restore their faith in a brighter future. With unwavering determination, he delved into his vast reserves of knowledge and memories, searching for the intricate details of a legendary artifact.
His mind became a canvas, where every stroke of his imagination painted a vivid picture of the envisioned form, structure, and enchantments. He recalled the stories and descriptions he had read of its history, piecing together the fragmented information to create a complete image in his mind.
As he concentrated, his magical circuits surged with energy, resonating with the concept of the staff. The air around him crackled with anticipation as if acknowledging the immense power about to be unleashed.
In the eyes of everyone, Shirou extended his hand, palm facing upward. His eyes concentrated, shutting out the external world, allowing him to fully immerse himself in the process. He visualized the staff's intricate design, its golden shaft adorned with a mechanical serpent entwined around the central rod.
His fingertips tingled with anticipation as he began the delicate process of materialization. Slowly, the magical energy within him transformed into matter, taking shape and substance. The air shimmered with a golden glow as the rod materialized, its intricate details becoming more defined with each passing moment.
Shirou's concentration remained unbroken as he meticulously projects the staff infused with its essence of healing and rejuvenation. He channeled his empathy and compassion into the artifact, imbuing it with a touch of his essence. This personal connection would enhance its healing properties, allowing it to resonate with the needs of the villagers.
As the staff took its final form, the people marveled at the beauty and power it emits. Its golden surface gleamed with an otherworldly, futuristic radiance, and the serpent seemed to come alive, its eyes glinting with a hint of ancient wisdom, yet symbolizing hope and renewal. Atalanta and Medea took a moment to gaze upon the staff with a mix of awe and recognition. They knew it well, for it was no ordinary staff. It was a cherished artifact from their monumental quest aboard the Argo, the renowned ship that carried them in search of the Golden Fleece.
Fond memories flooded their minds as they remembered the hardships they endured together, the trials they conquered, and the friendships forged during their perilous journey. The staff, with its gleaming golden surface, was a testament to their collective strength, ingenuity, and unwavering resolve to heal their fellow members.
With the Rod of Asclepius now in his possession, Shirou felt a surge of confidence and purpose. He knew that he held in his hands a tool that could bring relief and healing to those in need. Gripping the staff firmly, he stepped forward to begin healing the villagers and restore their faith in a brighter future.
As Shirou methodically moved through the community, the staff emitted a gentle, pulsating glow, casting a warm and comforting light on those it touched. Its magical properties worked in harmony with Shirou's intentions, identifying and addressing each individual's specific ailments.
With a gentle touch of the staff, wounds closed, broken bones mended, fresh blood disappeared, and even some illnesses began to recede. The villagers felt a surge of energy and vitality as the staff's healing magic coursed through their bodies, eradicating pain and restoring balance.
Shirou's tracing of the Staff of Asclepius proved to be a testament to his unwavering determination, his profound understanding of magic, and his genuine desire to alleviate suffering.
Throughout this healing process, Shirou's companions, Atalanta, Medea, and Li, provided support and assistance, each utilizing their unique abilities to complement his efforts. Together, they formed a formidable team, united in their mission to bring healing and hope to the villagers.
During and after the healing process, the Servants deliberated on the best course of action for the village's future. Recognizing the importance of restoring the community's livelihood and ensuring their safety, they weighed two options: rebuilding the village or relocating its inhabitants to another village miles away.
With their combined skills and resources, the Heroic Spirits knew they could rebuild the village swiftly, especially with their magecraft master Medea. They understood the preservation of the community's roots, the bonds forged over generations, and the familiarity of their surroundings. Rebuilding would allow the villagers to reclaim their homes, restore their livelihoods, and continue their way of life without significant disruption.
So Shirou and the others worked tirelessly driven by a shared sense of duty and compassion, utilizing their expertise in construction, agriculture, and various trades. They rallied the villagers, forming a collective effort to rebuild what had been lost. Within a single day, the village began to take shape once again, rising from the ashes with renewed vigor and resilience.
Medea and Li Shuwen also considered the option of relocating the villagers to another village miles away. This decision would ensure their safety and provide them with a fresh start in a new environment. It would offer the opportunity for the villagers to integrate into a different community, potentially benefiting from new resources, opportunities, and support systems.
Carefully weighing the pros and cons, Shirou engaged in open dialogue with the villagers, seeking their input and considering their needs. Ultimately, they respected the wishes of the community, allowing them to make the final decision. Some villagers chose to remain in their ancestral village, eager to rebuild and reclaim their homes. Others, either recognizing the potential benefits of relocation, opted to start anew in a different village.
For those who chose relocation, Atalanta and Shirou facilitated the transition, ensuring a smooth and seamless process. They assisted in finding suitable housing, connecting the villagers with local resources, and fostering a sense of belonging in their new community. The four Heroic Spirits remained committed to supporting the villagers throughout this transition, offering guidance, encouragement, and a helping hand whenever needed.
In the end, whether through the collective effort of rebuilding or the fresh start of relocation, the Servants stood by the villagers, their unwavering dedication ensuring that the community could heal, thrive, and embrace a future filled with hope and possibility.
Situated on a picturesque peninsula in France, near the bustling city of London over the sea, the new Chaldea served as a strategic and centralized base of operations for our heroes. The choice of this location was not arbitrary; it was carefully selected, despite the hurried time, for its advantageous position, allowing for easy access to vital resources and efficient communication networks.
The new Chaldea, Chaldea 2 by Illya, was a re-testament to human ingenuity and technological prowess. Its architecture seamlessly blended modern and traditional elements, creating a harmonious fusion of aesthetics and functionality. The facilities within Chaldea 2 were state-of-the-art, equipped with advanced laboratories, training grounds, and command centers, providing our heroes with the necessary tools and infrastructure to carry out their missions effectively.
Within the walls of Chaldea 2, a vibrant intellectual and cultural community thrived. Servants as scholars, scientists, and experts from various fields congregated, fostering an environment of collaborative learning and innovation. The exchange of ideas and expertise propelled Chaldea 2 to the forefront of research and development, enabling the organization to stay one step ahead in the battle against existential threats instead of the previous Grand Orders.
Passing through rugged mountains and traversing perilous terrain, Shirou and co were tested by the arduous journey. With each step, they relied on their collective skills and knowledge to overcome the myriad challenges that lay ahead. Medea, utilized her magecraft to ward off minor sinister forces and create safe passage for her comrades. And Atalanta guided them through uncharted territories with the unerring accuracy of her unmatched tracking abilities. Shirou, meanwhile, ensured the safety and cohesion of the group throughout their odyssey.
Their expedition led them through the landscapes of France, where verdant fields and picturesque villages lined their path. They began in the city of Paris, where they arrived after a two-day journey. The Eiffel Tower stood tall in the distance, its iconic silhouette serving as a beacon guiding them toward their destination. They walked along the bustling streets, lined with quaint cafes and elegant boutiques, soaking in the vibrant atmosphere of the city.
As they approached the entrance to Chaldea 2, they entered the secret way located beneath the Louvre Museum, they were greeted by the sight of the magnificent glass pyramid that adorned its courtyard. The grandeur of the museum and the rich history it held within its walls served as a fitting backdrop for their return.
Passing through the museum's entrance, they ran again in Astral Form to the peninsula, until they descended into the depths of the secret base. The air grew cooler and the surroundings became more mysterious as if they were entering a hidden realm.
As they continued their descent, they reached a series of winding corridors, illuminated by soft, ethereal lights. The sound of their footsteps echoed through the passageways, creating an atmosphere of anticipation and intrigue. The air was filled with a sense of ancient power and knowledge, as if the very walls held the secrets of the world, undoubtedly from the influence of the Casters who constructed this new Chaldea.
"Ah, Shirou! The four of you are back! I assume the expedition near Florence went well?" Someone said after they entered the Control Room. Her presence exuded a captivating blend of brilliance, charm, and ingenuity.
Da Vinci's features were bathed in the soft, ethereal lights that illuminated the corridors, accentuating her vibrant energy and keen intellect. Her eyes, filled with curiosity and a spark of determination, scanned the faces of the Saviours of an Italian village.
"Da Vinci," Medea nodded in greeting, "The quest was adequate, except for the unforeseen adversaries, the civilian casualties were fortunately small." Shirou's face was slightly sour at that. He had always placed a high value on protecting innocent lives, and any loss incurred weighed heavily on his conscience.
Atalanta, noticing Shirou's reaction, maintained her composure and responded thoughtfully, "I understand thy concern, Shirou. 'tis indeed lamentable when innocent liveth are affected. However, 'tis necessary to recognize that in arduous quests, unforeseen adversarieth and risks are inevitable. Our foremost duty is to minimize harm to the innocent and protect the vulnerable. I share thee sentiments."
Shirou reluctantly agrees with Atalanta on their mental link. Da Vinci raised an eyebrow at Medea's response, Li Shuwen answered, "Although we were expecting to encounter the typical wood fiends, it was unexpected we are faced with foul descendants of the Inferno Serpent."
"The Serpent from... Dante's Inferno?" Da Vinci trailed off incredulously, her tone filled with disbelief. She tilted her head, staring off into space as her mind raced through ancient texts and legends. Dante's Inferno was a poetic essay that holds small significance and no real events happenings in history. It's impossible for a story character to just appear in the world. Nevertheless, Sasaki Kojirou is proof of that to defy its rules.
After a moment of contemplation, Da Vinci's expression shifted, "Report me more."
