Finally, the conclusion of the first arc is here, thank you for reading this story and supporting me all the time!
Lost record IV
Chaldea was impressively huge.
Caster mused to himself as he leisurely strolled down the hall. Servants did not need sleep, so he took his sweet time to explore the facility. A warrior needed to know his terrain, and a magus needed a place to set up his workshop. So surely they wouldn't mind if he happened to secure a good spot for himself, right?, before this place became too crowded.
Caster halted his step.
"So how long are you planning to stalk me? People are going to get the wrong idea if you keep following me around like some lost puppy." He turns around with a bored expression. "For a rather well-mannered Master, it's hard to believe her Servant would be this tactless."
From the shadow of the wall emerged Berserker. His face showed no guilt whatsoever. Caster scoffed.
Talking about shamelessness…
"Did your Master let her dog run loose or did it just do it without her knowing?"
As silence answered him, Caster heaved a sigh.
"Of course, it's past midnight." Grumbling, he crossed his arms. "Alright, let's change the question. What the heck are you doing here instead of guarding your Master like what sort of protective freak you are?"
Caster nonchalantly phrased while swirling a few runes around his fingers. When around this bastard, it was never unnecessary to be too cautious. If not for him being more sensitive to magical energy after changing his Class, Caster doubted he'd have managed to detect something, or someone was lurking between those shadows.
Speaking of changing Class, the one before him just seemed to get it even worse. He had already been insufferable back when he was still an Archer, now Caster could hardly read what was going on in the other Servant's mind.
It was very frustrating, Caster's frown deepened the moment he caught a glimpse of that hideous pitch-black sclera. First, an Archer using swords, now a Berserker with a tendency of an assassin.
Color him the surprise.
"You don't have to worry. I'm taking out the most potential threat."
Caster blinked with a funny look on his face since Berserker was staring back at him like his statement a moment ago was just him going to get a midnight snack. The lack of murderous intent did not make the air less tense, however. Under the white bang, the mismatched eyes gleamed like the light bouncing on a sharp blade.
A sneer involuntarily left Caster's lips.
" "Most potential threat "? Are you sure you suffer from memory loss but not short-term memory? Cuz pretty sure I ain't the one who's going around and threatening whomever he met on his way."
Berserker's barely-shifted expression caused him Caster to scold. The stillness from the other party spoiled his mood. "Just spit it out already. Not everyone has as much idle time as you."
"Why did you stop her?"
A question, toootally unrelated. But, hey, at least they had moved from one side conversation to two. That was a huge progress.
"Saber was–"
"That wasn't what I was asking." Berserker cut him off.
Caster squinted his eyes, half wondering what this prick tried to pull here before it came to him.
He blew a breath through his nostrils.
"...Seriously, you already know the answer. Why bother to ask?"
The rigid silence from the other Servant was enough for an answer. Unable to help himself, Caster pinched the bridge of his nose. This was why he said he hated roundabouts.
"I stopped Bazett from joining your Master's little ragtag group so that the elimination of humanity wouldn't process faster. Gathering all the Masters in one place? God help me because that just screamed to that clown in green: "We are here, come and kill us! "." He added while shooting Berserker a look of exasperation. "So don't dump your frustration on me just because you failed to persuade your Master."
"You knew it from the beginning."
"Just a hunch, and that's all." Caster didn't bother to brush off the accusation. "It wasn't like I could have figured out anything until our finale with Saber."
No sound came out from either of them afterward. The murderous intention had been replaced by something else indescribable that made Caster's guts ever more uncomfortable.
"They would have a slim chance to escape with her weapon."
"Just drop it, Berserker. If Fragarach was that invincible, Bazett wouldn't have been killed by you." Caster gritted each word through his teeth. The image was still fresh behind his eyelids: His former Master, whose body was slowly being swallowed by the flame, had her abandonment missing completely.
Everything had moved so fast back then. A project... a sword, had pierced through her when she was the least aware of.
Of course, it hadn't been hard to tell whom bastard [Servant] was behind that–
Caster's hands were clenched so tight that all the knuckles turned white. The numb pain reminded him to force himself to wind out. He couldn't afford to lose it no matter how he wished to burn the bastard before him right now. He couldn't. And it went without saying that Berserker was the same. That was why no weapons had been drawn even until now. The rune weaving between Caster's fingers also had long since dimmed.
Their circumstances had changed, in the worst way possible. There was no place nor time for personal matters.
Protecting the last Masters of humanity was the sole priority of any Servants that were, and would be, summoned to Chaldea.
For that purpose, any manpower would hold the same value.
The two of them understood that very well.
"... Look, I know us both are still bitter about what happened with our Holy Grail war and that we will never get along." Caster opened his mouth first, as usual, after a short huff. "Like it or not, we will have to work together since our Masters are technologically coworkers. That battle royale, the War between pairs had ended regardless of the outcome. So instead of wasting our energy being constantly at the other's throat, how about you and I just mind our damned business while acting like the other doesn't exist?"
And spare me from some nuisance. He added inside his head.
The other Servant stared down at the hand outstretched toward him blankly before without a word, he melted away into the shadow.
Looking at the vacant space in front of him, Caster clicked his tongue and dropped his hand. Finally being left alone, he turned back to his path. That bastard had become more and more obnoxious. "Taking out the most potential threat "... what a joke. Couldn't he just straighten to demand a verbal confirmation of where they were standing?
Come to think about it, Caster was surprised that Berserker hadn't bounced on him as soon as he openly suggested his Master un-summoning him, considering his personality–
Wait, what...?
The realization suddenly rushed at him like a sound slap to the face. Caster spun around to look at the place where Berserker had vanished in the sheer force of the shock.
Back in the cafeteria, he hadn't been the only one who tested the lass.
Berserker, that opportunistic bastard, had used him, including that suggestion. Assuming he had held back intentionally, to dare take such a huge risk, Berserker was either extremely confident or just wanted to flex the bond between him and his Master…
Or maybe both.
Caster couldn't help himself and cringe a bit at the conclusion.
"...Damn, that crazy bastard."
Where Berserker had gotten that confidence from was already questionable enough. What would have happened if Miss the-reincarnation-of-King-of-Britain-in-hypothesis's choice had been otherwise was something Caster didn't think he'd wished to find out.
At least now he vaguely understood why Berserker was a Berserker...
Shaking his head, Caster resumed his walk.
Tough luck, Miss Master. You got yourself one hell of a Servant.
Sometimes, I feel like I spam you with my story for posting too many chapters in one day. But worry not, after this, I will post slower and more scattered (Since I have to write both drafts and edit the chapters for the next arc).
I hope you'll forgive me if I happen to disappear for a week or a month or so *laugh*