Summary: In the midst of Molay's plan to summon her God, complications arise regarding her chosen "Prince in distress."

Note: Let it be said that I needed to work off some frustration when it comes to recent events. Because fuck cancer in taking away two people I love in my life. Fuck it to hell and back, because Di Thuy and Anh Ti Anh deserved to live beyond 49 and 39. Also? Jacques de Molay is going to become "Quaca-Molay" from how absolutely fucking pissed off I was at her antics in NA's Halloween Rising/Halloween 2023 event. Trying to summon a God is one thing. Using someone else's own body without consent as a catalyst is another. Not even being punished beyond verbal reprimand for such a thing is just no. Playing it cute with the French phrases doesn't save her.

Content warning for spoilers up to Sections 4-6 of the Halloween event, graphic violence, cruel and unusual punishment, and mentions of torture. You've been warned.

The theme for this chapter is the opening behind The World's Finest Assassin is Reincarnated as an Aristocrat — Dark Seeks Light. For those of you looking for alternatives, I'll point you to (1) Hollow Hunger by O x T, the opening to the fourth season of Overlord; and (2) the track titled Eleven Stars, Five Flowers from Yuki Yuki is a Hero. Because I'm fucking pissed that Molay only got off with verbal lashings.

Here we go.

Day 71: Dark Seeks Light (& Fails)

Jacques de Molay knew she wasn't a good person. After all, she was summoned to embody the entire concept of "Innocent Monster" — an entity that was vilified by the public's mistaken belief that the Knights Templar worshiped some kind of otherworldly deity in the form of Baphomet of all things.

…Not that it mattered in this Singularity anymore. What was truly important was getting her hands on the Holy Grail. Even if it was somehow stuck within the one Master of Chaldea.

There was no denying the truth. Vy Duong was an impressive Master, no doubt about it — the number of resolved Singularities and felled Lostbelts lying behind her were nothing to sneeze at. So it was one thing for Molay's desired Grail to embed itself into Vy's body when the girl was sleeping during the remote memory modification, just to slip through Molay's fingers and taunt her. Especially when said girl had used up all the Grails Chaldea had gathered so far, as if to prevent Molay from grabbing them.

It was another thing entirely that the memory modification somehow failed and Vy was going about life normally the next day. Not to mention it was plenty hard enough to get Vy alone to prepare the ritual for summoning the Holy Mother of the Abyss. Those accursed Grailed Servants, even back in Novum Chaldea, made up such a tight-knit and protective circle around her to where it was impossible to poke holes into it in an attempt to try to reach their Master. Molay could only guess she'd probably be skewered alive if she wasn't careful. (She did not want to think about the other Servants — Divine and not — casting protective charms every hour or so while Vy didn't notice.)

Heck, Vy bringing one Grailed Servant alone in the form of Robin Hood through the purposefully-rigged Rayshift was enough to make the Singularity shake at its foundations, thanks to all the power accumulated into his Spirit Origin. The "dwarf" version of his Rogue Servant self really couldn't compare. (So why did Vy go so far to Grail nine others outside of him, one of which included that Demi-Servant of a Shielder? Molay just couldn't understand it.)

But that was fine. It was all. Still. Fine. She could pretend to play dead — her B in the Endurance stat could let her do that much. While the others were searching the Csejte Cinderella Castle of that accursed Elisabeth Bathory for the Holy Grail, she'd have to be the possum and wait for the right time to strike.

One… two…

Napoleon was glancing the other way, focusing on Mordred tossing the throne in the room away to look for more clues (much to a nearby Elisabeth's loud protests). Zenobia had her back turned, on the lookout for any remnant enemies (and amazingly missing Molay herself, yes!). And — and Robin was slowly removing his hand from Vy's waist after sharing a look with her that was honestly disgusting.

But he was… he was still walking away. There probably wouldn't be another chance.

Three.

Without hesitation, Molay leapt up and lunged, and the soft skin of Vy's neck was almost ticklish to her fingers once she found her hold and squeezed. Now this — this was the perfect grip. Everything was going swimmingly now. Lifting her up was mere child's play. The muscles there tensed as the girl gasped wordlessly, Robin and the others turning automatically at the first sounds of struggle as Molay threw her head back to laugh. "I wouldn't move if I were you, Master of Chaldea. I've got a veeery firm grip on your neck and you don't want it to snap, do you?"

Too easy.

"You bitch…" Robin glared at her, barely acknowledging Mordred's apologetic look a second later with a nod as he growled, "You were playing dead after all."

"Why wouldn't I? You all thought the Holy Grail started this! And boo-hoo for you, it's not here!" The laughter on her lips tasted sweet to match the sweet pink flush of Vy's neck past her hair and new prince uniform. The bait costume. "I reaaaaally don't need to explain myself to you when you all have been sooo annoying, but might as well since you all played your usual roles in Halloween so well to the end!" Molay ignored how Vy's feet flailed in the air, her grip firm on the back of the girl's neck with confidence. "The Holy Grail you've all been looking for has been in your little Master this whole time! And just when I've been looking for one after Chaldea used up all of theirs…"

Robin's eyes widened (finally), just as Elisabeth screamed in annoyingly loud high pitch, "Deerlet has the Grail?! When?!"

"Oh, it just had to fly to her and get all sealed up once I tried to mess with her memories~! It just wouldn't stay in place when sweet little me wanted to do more with it, y'know?" Molay couldn't help but tighten her grip, just a little bit to be extra petty, to make that opposing green Archer more uneasy. Vy at least was getting the right idea in not moving. "So all that was left to do was simply kidnap a princess and wait for her chosen prince to save her! That's all it took and you fell for it! You didn't even realize the prince costume was just extra bait!"

If looks could kill, Zenobia, Napoleon, Mordred, and Robin would all probably have her dead to rights. Elisabeth barely counted. Not that Molay cared about any of them. They didn't matter — they all could just die and become food for the next ritual. Right now, she needed to get the goat skull she prepared, chant the spell, and activate the Grail and it would be all over. This fairy-tale-based Singularity would be plenty of Mystic-fueled basis for the Dark Young to grow up. And the lone Master of Chaldea, with all her luck and experience, would make the perfect vessel for it.

Holy Mother of the Abyss, you shall rise soon…

"Now then, Vy, be a dearie and put on this mask, won't you—?"

It would've been a perfect ending to this twisted story. But the last thing Molay expected was to hear a fwish of air and then feel a sudden tingly numbness to her arm.

No. It wasn't just numbness. It only took a split second to notice the deal as to why, but the bone to her holding wrist was now completely exposed to her eye — a sickly bloody white from her body screaming at her — the opening just messily aimed at the connecting joint that she was using on her hand to previously keep Vy in place. Once her gaze unconsciously started tracing the barely intact tendons and muscle of her remaining fingers, a blade — an enchanted dagger? — was coming right at her eyes.

What the— Instinct was all that saved her from losing her nose and glasses, her vision blurring from the blood loss and growing adrenaline rush as she leapt back, barely avoiding the incoming kick to her stomach along the way, unintentionally making more distance from her prize. The now dangerous prize. "When did—ack!" The blade was coming back to aim for her eyebrows. She had to jump again.

Wait. Now that she was soaring through the air for a brief moment, none of the Servants had moved. So then — no. It couldn't be.

When did the Master of Chaldea invest in hidden weaponry? Her beloved green Archer and chosen red-jacketed Assassin might've been up to such tactics, but sweet innocent Vy? It was almost hard to believe. Maybe push her away, sure, but stab at an arm with deadly accuracy in spite of the bad angle Molay had put her in? It seemed impossible. But there was no denying how the tentacles of her god's support were flailing around Molay in panic to try healing her now barely not-severed hand once she landed back onto the floor. And from what little Molay could see past her foggy vision and the blood splatter falling onto her glasses, her grip was long gone from Vy's neck. The prize was gone. Not even scars remained on her skin as the girl puffed for breath meters away from the altercation — almost coincidentally falling back to stand in the center of her group of allied Servants.

…Okay, now that weapon wasn't there before.

One sleeve of Vy's prince costume had apparently been torn clean in half during the commotion, exposing a sharp, unfolded, and clearly defined dagger. It was extending out from a previously well-hidden steel arm guard attached to Vy's forearm, being almost twice the length of the girl's closed fist, the blade now dripping — dripping Molay's blood in the reverse grip Vy had on it. And it was still pointed in only one direction.

Vy was aiming for my head. She was aiming for my head without any hesitation.

"…You're not the first person to threaten the people I love by holding me up by the neck, and I'm sure you're not going to be the last," is the low growl that leaves the petite girl's lips, pure hatred and concentrated distaste shining in those bespectacled brown eyes as she shakes her head. "But congratulations, Molay. You just joined the very top of my shitlist by apparently trying to take my body for some fuck-all ridiculous goat-skull ritual bull crap. While trying to monologue how superior you are in Elly's castle. Since you had me invoke old instincts taught by Shiki-san, that's something to applaud you for at least." The slow sarcastic clapping Vy invoked at that moment past the grip she had on her dagger was very, very foreboding. "So then." The glow of the Holy Grail was growing painfully obvious from Vy's chest as she clutched at the front of her costume with her left hand, exposing all three of her Command Seals for a brief moment. "I think it's about time for some payback, don't you? Barely losing an arm is just too good for you and there's no rule stating the damsel in distress can't save herself."

Molay didn't even have time to consider the other Servants grinning and brandishing their own weapons at her. Robin's proud smile over Vy's shoulder as he rushed to her side was just rubbing more salt into the wound. Not to mention Elisabeth and Zenobia's approving nods, almost in fucking unison too.

"I already decided my heart, body, and soul would all be dedicated to one person alone, Molay." A single fistful of her shirt is all it takes for Vy to tear the entirety of her Mystic Code away, revealing a new white hoodie cloak and a modest black combat dress adorned with red hems and belts not unlike a fantasy warrior from a video game underneath the previously established princely garb.

Vy can't be called a "Prince Charming" anymore.

She was — she was wearing huntsman — no, assassin garb now. More fashionable and definitely designed for a lady in mind, sure, but still. The black army boots on her feet stomped menacingly against the glowing floor of the castle, just as Vy smiles like she might've done for a friend. "And since I'm getting hungry for a pollo asado burrito and some Quaca-Molay, I'll at least let you know this in return for spilling your plans." A simple swish of her skirt is all it takes for a single metal bo staff to extend itself into Vy's left hand, just as she flicks her right hand to get the blood off her now exposed dagger and splattering the red droplets against the floor.

Molay gulped. The goat skull wasn't in her hand anymore. Where did it go? Did she toss it? Did Vy—

The next sentence is enough to make Molay freeze. Because Vy said it with the most serene, peaceful smile on her face, the brightest of stars shining in her eyes too.

"You're not the person I want to spend all my life with, Molay, and you never will be."

…Well, fuck.

It's almost good luck that the goat skull she meant to use for Vy falls from some unknown place on the ceiling and onto a collapsed pumpkin knight nearby. Not to mention how the summoning circle starts up by itself.

Being blown out of the castle was one thing. Being rejected by her own God, even through the cruddy summoning it found itself in after Molay tried to invoke the ritual without the proper catalyst and the Holy Grail in her grasp — that was just mean. Having to party up with her intended victim felt like foul play too.

Getting strung up by black tendrils while being made to float by a shadowy Caster, just to act like some kind of demented balloon attraction in the middle of the fairy tale forest of her own making, though? Just. What the hell, Vy?

"…I can see why you brought me along, late Summoning aside," the apparent Space version of Ishtar muttered under her breath (why was she also Grailed?! Where was she hiding all this time and how many Grails did Vy use—?), moving her glowing black hole of a familiar upwards to merely keep Molay anchored in the air. From the looks of things, it was only because of her status as a Servant she wasn't suffering from some mild oxygen deprivation thanks to the low air content in this Singularity's atmosphere. The smirk on Ishtar's face was honestly disgusting enough, but the sweet honey in her voice didn't help Molay's growing discomfort as she went on to say in a tone that was bordering gleeful joy, "I'm not normally one to torture a target outside of getting a bounty to maintain upkeep on Maanna, but floating someone up is rather fun~!"

"Glad to see you're enjoying it, Ash," Vy said mildly, tugging at the hood of her smaller cape with her left hand as she flicked her right hand absentmindedly. With each flick, the concealed dagger from before (now clean of any blood) extended in and out of her reach, acting as some kind of stimulation or distraction from whatever was going on in her head. "Because I know I don't want to see Molay for a long, long time now. Thank god for Medea leaving us some anti-gravity spells."

"HEY! I said I was sorry! I'm willing to help now!"

A poisoned arrow proceeded to streak the air past her ear, scratching her cheek along its way in an arc back down to who knows where. Goddammit. "Whoops. Goodness me," Molay could hear Robin say in fake sympathy. "It looks like my trigger finger slipped in response to some passing bullshit." To Vy, he said in a softer, more genuine voice, "Don't worry about it, little sparrow. My aim's still strong."

"Aye," Vy said sweetly to match. "Thankie, Big Robin."

Goddammit. I'm definitely at their mercy.

"And of course it goes without saying that whoever hurts Master shall be thoroughly punished without question," Astarte cut in immediately, voice changing to be cold and unforgiving as she shook her head. "I had to learn that just like everyone else. This situation is no different." Seemingly ignoring Molay's outburst, she merely snapped her fingers, making Molay bob up and down above the tree lines with more pointed vigor. "So don't worry about that, Vy. I'll keep her afloat with Medea's magic until we can put her to trial later."

"What she said," Robin finished, lowering his crossbow discreetly. "So don't worry about her."

"…Thankie, Ash, Big Robin. That means a lot." The bird's eye view of Vy didn't stop Molay from seeing how the Chaldean Master stopped her knife flicking with a tight clenching of her fist, further accentuated by a controlled exhale. It was almost a surprise to not see her lean into Robin's figure, instead choosing to reach out and squeeze a hem of his mantle. "Let it be said I'm gonna train a bit harder from now on, because being remotely messed with and then nearly being bagged for body theft by some icky goat monster is a definitely new all-time low, even with all the bullshit we've seen."

"Master…" Astarte said in a new combined and disembodied voice, completely ignoring Molay's struggles playing out above her head. Vy had gone quiet instead.

"…I'd say train smarter, not harder, Vy," Robin added after taking in the pause, raising a hand to squeeze her shoulder. "Don't want to add more work to those shoulders of yours, so take it easy, okay?"

"Aye..." is the tired, loyal response.

There's a grin. "Good."

Am I… Am I really being ignored?! By everyone here?!

And, even though Molay knew she was tempting her luck, she couldn't deny the anger starting to bubble up in her chest as the thought came to pass. Yes, she did taunt them for not taking her seriously, but this treatment in return was just horrible!

"HEY!" Molay eventually screeched, wiggling in her tendril bindings. "It was a solid plan if I do say so myself! The Holy Mother would've rejoiced being in any other body than a pumpkin knight!"

"But if you decide to commit evil in your 'Mother's' name," Zenobia yelled suddenly and loudly without raising her gaze upwards, "then you must commit to it, you failure of a witch! All your plan has amounted to has merely been more trouble! In my gracious opinion as Queen of Palmyra, it merely sounded like you never accounted for anything else but Vy and Vy had clearly never given consent to participate in your schemes! So take your punishment gracefully!"

Argh. She's not wrong.

It didn't help that it took all Molay had to dodge yet another arrow as Robin whistled, "Oops. Silly me — it looks like I tripped this time. These roads are getting bumpy!" The extra poison needle thrown up her way was just excessive. Her fingertips were already going numb.

Goddammit, you vindictive asshole. See if anyone else aside from your Master calls you "big." There's no bumps here and you'd be better off as a dwarf. Besides, how does Vy love you—

Once Robin reached over with his non-dominant shooting hand to pat Vy's head, though, it seemed to spur the start of a new conversation amongst the other Servants, because before Zenobia could step forward and add anything else, Elisabeth sang out in that annoying high pitch, "A-Aaaaaaaanyways, Deerlet~! Enough of all of us being angry, we're still in our own musical~! Where did the knife come frooom, what costume did you get thaaaaat, and I clearly remember you saying you saved your life for just oooooone~?"

"That's rich," Mordred said dryly, "coming from the princess who was singing about torture earlier."

"That was me theeeeen! I'm asking noooooow!"

To Molay, Elisabeth's song was the usual annoying, jumbled, and completely nonsensical bullshit, but it didn't seem to be the same for the others because in quick succession, Napoleon threw his head back to laugh, Mordred scoffed, and Vy actually blushed. Hell, even past the cover of her white hood, Vy had stepped closer to Robin, hiding her face away into the protective bundle of his mantle once Zenobia turned a curious eye towards her.

"Master…?" Astarte said in a slower, steadier voice.

Vy raised one finger of her left hand. "O-One," she replied shakily. "I-I was originally using the dagger as a cooking knife between Singularities. To help everyone with skinning animals, cutting meat, those kinda things. Caster Da Vinci was really proud of it when I asked her for modifications in case of more combat use." One more finger went up in the air. "Two. C-Costume was inspired by some kind of assassin's game Rider Da Vinci liked? A-And I went with it after lowering the number of belts on the waist part so I wouldn't look like I walked out of Kingdom Hearts and Final Fantasy VII." Finally, after a pregnant pause, Vy was holding up three fingers. "A-And then you should know the answer to number th-three, Elly."

"Wait, Deerlet, really—?" Elisabeth stops her sentence with a soft Wah. Molay can't find it in herself to blame her.

Hell, Molay didn't have to be afloat to see the glint of a gold ring on Vy's left middle finger. Nor the matching gleam of a silver band on Robin's right middle finger, just past the cover of his glove. Once a few seconds passed, Zenobia gasped wordlessly, Mordred smirked, and Napoleon whistled. And was it just Molay feeling the blood rush to her head from the lack of gravity control, or was Napoleon looking sad? "Mon dieu, mademoiselle," he murmured finally to break the spell the party found themselves in, shaking his head, "does that mean I never had a chance from the start?"

All attention, Molay's included, went to him.

"Eh?" said Elisabeth in surprise.

"Eh…" said Zenobia in disappointment, shouldering her sword against her neck with an audible crack. "Why am I hearing this now…? Does this Emperor flirt with anyone of another sex?"

"Boney," Mordred gaped, breaking the trend. "You're friggin' serious?"

"Oui!"

"Fucking hell, Boney," Mordred said with a cough, shaking his head as if he heard something foul. "Not even Tristan would go that far, and he's shit along with Lancelot and Gawain! I even noticed Vy was taken, and that's coming from me!"

"And I'd prefer you and them over the Frenchie gunman because at least you guys know your chances," Robin muttered darkly under his breath. "Have to reload the quiver then…"

"Eh—?" Vy pokes her head out of Robin's mantle to give Napoleon what looks like an offended glance, apparently missing Robin's comments just as she says, "why were you even thinking of trying, Napoleon? No offense intended, but did my speech to Molay go in one ear and out the other? I meant everything I said! And really, even if my soul's equally split between my family, friends, and all the Servants, my body and heart's all just for one Archer and him alone!" As if for extra emphasis, Vy raised both arms to hug Robin tight around his middle, a loud pout arising in her voice as she finished with an extra proud, "I love Big Robin and he's mine just as much as I'm his!"

Robin blushed but didn't openly deny it, the dark look on his face having disappeared almost immediately in favor of a warm smile. The doofus even went on to wrap his arm around Vy's shoulders and give her a firm and visibly approving kiss to the top of her head through her hoodie (much to her embarrassment, judging by her soft squeak). Add in the visible contrast of her white mini-cape versus his green mantle making her stand out even more against him, and they were essentially announcing in all neon headlights that they were together and staying together.

Molay would've liked to gag at it all if she could. Astarte's tendril grip, though, meant she couldn't throw up on the happy couple. Great.

At least Mordred's fake gagging summed up her reaction well. And his barely audible, "Sheesh, you lovebirds, get a room already. We're already in a fairy tale, we can find you a carriage or something."

All Elisabeth did in contrast was throw her head back to sing-song, "I KNEW IT~!", jumping up and down in spite of her glass slippers and blue ball gown, clapping her hands together. "So if we had the other Robin here, Deerlet would looooooove a Robin sandwich! I should sing at the wedding if you've already found your princeeeee~!"

"If you're thinking of hugs in terms of a Robin sandwich, yes! Hugs are just fine!" Vy said immediately, continuing to hold onto Robin pointedly. "But otherwise this Big Robin is enough for me!" Apparently not minding Robin's continued blushing, Vy hugged him tighter, shaking her head. "And really, Elly! Singing plans can be done after we get this Holy Grail out of me to resolve the Singularity! Would rather not be carrying something that could blow up the altar, thank you very much!"

"And," Astarte added slowly, turning yellow eyes towards Molay, the stars and galaxies of her irises glowing with nothing but malicious intent. "As soon as the remaining perpetrator is dealt with, we can resume wedding plans. I have some words regarding the culprit's shared actions with Molay, and I know what that means coming from me and one of my former self's previous efforts in the Servant Universe." In a lighter-hearted voice, Astarte said softly to Vy, "On that note, Master? Do I have permission to throw our latest balloon at any enemies we encounter, the botched God in Elisabeth's castle included?"

Mon dieu.

Molay grew still once Vy glanced at Astarte, Robin, and then her with a raised brow and a half-frown, half-smile. "…Within reason," Vy allowed after a moment's pause, glaring at Molay past the glare of her glasses and the conflicted look on her face. "Still feeling up for Quaca-Molay later."

"Of course~! Petty is the new pretty, Deerlet!" Elisabeth sang nearby. "Now let's go find the other dwarves — I mean, hotties — and regroup to take back my castle!"

Mon dieu, I'm dead.

One last pointed flick of her hidden dagger was all Vy had to say on the matter before Robin gently rested a hand against the back of her knife holding one, making Vy sigh. "…As long as the petty doesn't stick around forever because I hate feeling this way, Elly." With another sigh, Vy hugged Robin one more time before letting go, shaking her head. "Enough of us standing around. Let's get this Dark Young shitshow over with."

"Yes, let's goooooo! I'll reserve the red Archer later for the burritos to go with the Quaca-Molay!"

"I'll get the tomatoes from the garden for the salsa later," Robin added mildly. "Gonna need some spice for all the salt." Without skipping a beat, he went on to finish with, "And some milk to cool everything down, maybe."

Astarte glanced at Mordred and beamed to match the Knight of Rebellion's smirking. Along with Zenobia trying to comfort the quieter Napoleon, Molay knew just one thing from her place floating up above the tree lines.

Yep. Even when the Singularity was going to end, Molay's sense of gravity wasn't going to be returning anytime soon.

Note (Oct. 20, 2023): A weakened Dark Young boss battle commences off-screen, and soon after Molay will be thrown into the same jail as BB, if you're curious. No Servant cannibalism here, but it doesn't change how I really don't like her very much. Especially with the cop-out the event gave her in saying the Singularity wasn't all her fault — the entire thing just makes the buildup of the previous Halloween Trilogy recap fall moot.

Oh. Where did the mock-assassin outfit and hidden dagger come from, you ask? Thank my partner, my real life Robin in Leo for that. He gave me lots of visual references from Assassin's Creed for the idea since he's been playing the newest game. And he was the one who came up with the Quaca-Molay joke. It works.

Otherwise, it's been four days since it would've been Anh Ti Anh's 40th birthday, 18 days since his death. And I'm tired after processing all that emotion and rage.

So for all of you, I'll see you at the next update. Until then.