Author's Note: I'm happy to see some more constructive reviews this time, which aren't down to 'why not bash Catholics', asking more about Jesus being too strong a presence or the writing being tiring. I will be working on the tiring aspect, as that is a fault of my style to focus on scenes better left to the reader to interpret or imagine. Jesus's presence is necessary from a quote I live by. "If Jesus stands with us, who can stand against us?" Considering how the Big Bad is literal Satan, kind of need the other Bigger G to back you up.
On the other hand, I was informed that Samons has been added to Fate lore through Samurai Remnant. I'll say I stopped a lot of Fate mid-way through Arc 2 of F/GO, and watched the Zero, UBW, and Apocrypha. I did not play Samurai, but holy hell. HOW do you get a guy whose legend is 'my beard may never be cut' and make him a clean-shaven Adonis? How? Literally? It is like forgetting to make Sun Wukong part-monkey. It's their literal character!
Also, because someone asked, Samson is a Berserker, but unlike the Remnant which somehow managed to screw him up twice in their own lore, he has his rationality. How? Famed FGO Berserker Beowulf makes it clear that Berserkers that fought like, well, berserkers in real life do not have a rationality penalty. Samson fought with his bare hands and the jaw of cattle to slay hundreds of men alone. If that is not a berserker fighting style, I'm lost on what is.
Anyways, thank you for reading and onto conflict.
Ritsuka stared at the women, wide-eyed and frozen.
It did not make sense. It just did not.
He knew of Nero by only the study of what HE did to St. Peter. The first pope who redeemed himself denying Christ three times, allowing himself to be crucified for the Lord, but begging it be upon the flipped cross. Nero, who made candles out of the Catholics and a circus for sport. The sister told he more of him, so evil that it was impossible to ignore.
Burning of the Roman land, burning the people without an amphitheater built for his horrendous arts, burned the legacy of the roman emperors to follow, saved only by Constantine. Burning burning burning burning burning burning-
How was this woman proclaiming to be him. Why?
"Umu, speechless before my beauty?" The woman pushed out her chest, grin broad as her arms outstretched. "Oh, so it must be! Even in life I was the favor of so many who came to see me!"
That wasn't true either. Ritsuka looked to Solomon, watching the man massage his temples, golden eyes darting back and forth between him and this woman, who could not be Nero Claudius.
"A true pity then that you did not witness my deeds during this last raid upon the grounds of my former circus. I made jokes of those barbarians, treated as well as the Galls in the North. At least the women from that tribe bountiful for the men, but here there is nothing but charred beef and thin roast, poisoned with age." She tilted her head as if to gaze over the wall. "Umu, it is almost a pity they brought nothing to take. It just means we will have to enact a raid against them once we ultimately kill them all."
She spoke of it with joy. The smile was the same, but the relief upon her face as she spoke. It appeared like Mash's when Jesus spoke to her, like Olga's when they were given the chance to continue her father's mission. It was pleasure. It was sick.
"There will be no raids against their lands until we know from where they come and why they attack," Samson spoke up, the giant judge marching one step forward. It was easily equal to more than two of Ritsuka's own. "And not while the people here are tormented."
"Their torment will pass," the woman waved her hand. "They only need entertainment and food, nothing else matters. And we know of those men, don't we? They chant in a tongue common to only one place, no different than the Galls before." She traced her lips.
Ritsuka was terrified to see red appear over them, as if fresh with blood.
"And surely a Jesuit Judge will see to it that the perpetrator of these attacks is tried harshly, would he not? Umu, what better judge than you?" Samson didn't speak. Solomon did.
"One who knows how to usher in peace, speaking of!" The man walked forward quickly, flourishing his robes. "It is so great to see you, another Servant and certainly not someone who will try and start a fight with a Master able to help supply you with Prana, right?" He stared down at the woman, heads taller than her. "I'm sure a wise and loved Emperor will do everything he can to make sure he gets everything he wants, right?"
"Umu! Of course I will! And what fight would I start with him?" She bent at her waist; green eyes focused on Ritsuka again. There was a gleam of pleasure in them, haunting and hungry. "Isn't he here to protect my land?"
"This land, many people's land, holy land."
"Yes, but my land," she put a hand above her chest, still nearly bare. "Who else can claim this land but I would built my circus upon it? Just because the stones are gone does not mean it is no longer mine. It is a rule of Emperors that Catholics fail to understand."
"Catholics are behind you, one summoned you, and you live because of them." Samson's voice echoed the words like a tired prayer, over spoken.
The woman, who could not be Nero, laughed into the air.
"I need them to warm the night, but nothing else." The same pleasure dripped from her words. "How can they be good for Rome if they worship something other than me? Umu, such a simple thought, that there could be anything greater than I in all of creation."
She laughed, she twirled, she put her hands to her chest and bore a smile as if the greatest treasures were given to her.
Ritsuka could see the flames of hell burning behind her. A monster, a wicked soul, a defiler…
It… didn't make sense.
"Okay, wrong end of the candle," Solomon's quick words came as he rushed to Ritsuka. Red overtook him, only for the Master to look up and see the golden eyes of the Wise King. "Hey Master, why don't we go meet the Pope, huh? He's got to have a better head on his shoulders, seeing as he hasn't lost it before." Because Nero Claudius died alone… because he killed himself. "You don't mind staying out here and putting out same flames, do you big guy?"
"I have been shepherding them since before your arrival," Samson replied. "I can last a few hours more." The judge walked away, letting the sun beat down on Ritsuka again. He had to think to take a breath, focusing his gaze on Solomon.
"Solomon," he repeated the name he knew.
"That's me," he grinned like he just gave him stolen eggs. Ritsuka looked past him.
"Nero…" He almost hissed the name.
"That's… her," he bore it out, like he was caught with the stolen eggs. "Don't think about it too hard."
"How can I… what?" He shook his head. "There's too much to not think about!" He screamed it. "She-He killed St. Peter. Right here! Still speaking about turning Catholics into candles. Proclaiming himself greater and… and a woman?!"
"Like I said, don't think too hard. Don't want to break your head against a brick wall." The man twisted him around with hands on his shoulders. "I bet I'll have time to explain later. Much later and much further away from here." Ritsuka was pushed, shoved even. He only started walking to avoid falling.
"But Nero-!"
"Was summoned by a Pope that need us a lot more than a remnant of a memory needs to be lectured." The former Chaldean Doctor used the history of his legend, coating his words. "Third time's the charm, so here it goes. Don't think too hard on it." The man used the strength of a Servant to push him. "There's a lot more to talk about.
Ritsuka found the breath he wanted to talk with pushed out of him with another shove. Nothing violent, so strong as he'd seen Solomon act before, but enough he couldn't resist. He stumbled towards the Sepulcher, wondering for the first time why he'd hesitate to walk towards it. An enemy was behind him, one who professed love for the death of his brothers and sisters. He managed to turn around and see her, almost dancing before the giant.
He also found the golden eyes of Solomon, bearing with it an authority and sympathy. One Ritsuka knew he had used many times before, in many stories from the Old Testament.
"Please," he managed out the words. "We have a lot more to deal with than we thought, but we need to deal with them one at a time." Ritsuka took one more heavy breath, watching the woman, Nero, dance away on the grass, laughing with a voice that carried over the ruined and trodden soil.
Then turned, and walked past the cross, into the home of St. Peter's tomb.
It was a short journey in steps, but one of a thousand miles in his mind. Enough for him such that, when he broke the entryway and entered the battered cathedral, he was only just beginning to push the evil of the dancing woman behind him. The patter of his stone upon tiling floors, echoing around him, roused his thoughts.
The interior of the cathedral was not as he saw the great Basilica in images from his time. It lacked the mosaics, reliefs, and statues made in glory to Christ or the Mother Mary. No monuments of the historic moments and achievements of the church, and the tabernacle unseen, even hidden. Gold did not adorn the halls, no more than a few lines of which could be mistaken for paint.
But it was still a vast hall, larger than most he had been in before his arrival in Chaldea, and able to carry the echoes of his breath. Solomon walked behind him, hand still heavy on his shoulder, guiding him on. Ritsuka let out a heavy sigh, hearing hit echo.
"Hello?" A call came in answer to his breath. "Is all well? Was anyone harmed in the last assault?" The questions came with the quick patter of rushing feet. Ritsuka saw the man approaching around the transepts. He was taller than Ritsuka, which was hardly surprising, but with far less hair as well. Clean shaven atop his head, like friar monks, and with a simple robe ordained with crosses about the shoulder and down its center. It lacked the rich gold, ruby, or red, but was more of a humble flock.
Yet it did little to hide the man's clearly worried expression. Not fearful, worried, looking about Ritsuka the moment their eyes met and rushing towards him.
"Who are you? I apologize but I don't remember you among those taking refuge. You either." He spoke as he traced Solomon. "You are dressed too well to be among those hiding from the Saracens or having joined them." His worry began to morph. "You aren't one of the refugees… or the raiders."
"Hardly a word and you already read us well," the Wise King spoke humorously. "You have a gift to see so much so quickly."
"The Lord has blessed me with wisdom and burdened me with reason to use it." He followed, the worry gone from him, standing tall to just beneath Solomon's own impressive height. "But Wisdom now tells me only that you are here looking for me, not who you are."
"Thankfully, it is on us to tell you, and affirm that we are not here for harm." The hand along Ritsuka's shoulder lifted and fell, clapping it. "This young man is Ritsuka Fujimaru, Master of Chaldea, an order created to preserve the 'Order of Humanity' in the future. I am his humble Servant, following him." Humble?
Ritsuka didn't have time to look back at Solomon, the man's eyes hardened on him.
"The future," he repeated. "If not for the legends out there preserving us against the Devil's hand, I'd think you a liar." The words made him stir.
"I am no liar, and never would be here," he hastily defended. "Not where St. Peter lies, never." Eyebrows quirked.
"You know of St. Peter? More than just this home we have built for him?"
"The First Pope, following the words of Christ after his ascension into heaven. He spread the word of God through Rome, even when it was a crime to do so. He underwent a crucifixion as well, but wished to be turned upside down, so he could not be seen as equal to Christ." Ritsuka knew the story well.
He had heard it first from a pair of sisters who laughed at a child who thought they were mocking God by carrying a reversed cross, only to be educated on the truth. Remembering it, however, quickly reminded him of who was responsible for it.
"Nero Claudius did so, thinking it would be humorous." Even above the tomb of St. Peter, Ritsuka felt himself scowl. "That… apparent woman outside."
The man regarded him for a moment, eyes looking up and down his figure, perhaps looking for something more than what the naked eyes could see. The Japanese orphan did not interrupt him.
"You know of him and his killer and have love for one and disdain for the other." A long breath followed the man. "You say you are from the future?"
"I am… we are," he motioned to Solomon. The Wise King made a face of minor agreement, waving his hand. "Sort of."
"Which is it?"
"I am from the future. He is my Servant, summoned in the future, but is from the past, even this past."
"And who is he?" Eyes returned to the king.
"The one who practices wisdom better than most." He took a lavish bow. "I am King Solomon." The man finally jerked.
"Sol-… oh my Lord, God above," the man took a long, thankful, breath. "Finally, another has come who holds God's words above his own breath. Another of great power at that." He stepped forward, a smile as thankful as his tone about his lips. "I am Pope Leo the IV, the current head of this last bastion against the Saracen Pirates."
Ritsuka smiled up at him. A flurry of joy in his chest, pushing aside the disdain from his prior meetings.
Pope Leo, a Pope, the Leader of the Catholic Church, and one who built a wall that was honored and kept into the modern day.
"It is an honor to meet you," Ritsuka spoke as he bowed. "Especially after… who we met before."
"Which one?" The pope asked knowingly. "The Archer who finds mirth in the destruction of what man has built? Or the woman masquerading as a monster of a man?" His sigh was deep, a hand rushing over his eyes. "The other Servants are troubling only in volume, but they assess me in ways I think only God could have designed. In truth, when I saw the red of your robes, Wise King, I thought you another one of them?"
"My clothes?" He held up a sleeve. "The length, or the red? I'm not as exposed as Nero."
"Red. Once is an occurrence, twice is a coincidence, but a third…" He shook his head. "I'm thankful it wasn't a pattern."
"Of my many issues, I assure you that blasphemy is not among them," Solomon replied with a good-natured chuckle. "For myself or my Master. I dare to say that he puts my own faith in God to shame."
"Then I'm all the more joyous for your arrival," Leo responded. "With both of you here, perhaps more may be done than just defend the walls."
"Don't worry about that. There thankfully are too few women around here for me to think of anything else." Ritsuka sighed towards the ground. He could hear the Pope blink.
"I'm… sorry?"
"Oh please, don't be. I'd never take a woman from the cloth. Not again at least." The Chaldea Master folded his hands over his face. "And I especially won't do anything with the only other woman I've seen so far."
"At least I know where you draw the line," Ritsuka muttered, earning a joyful, if naïve, laugh from the king.
"Of course! It's one of the few heralds of my wisdom that has managed to find its way to the youth of the modern day." He should ask, he really shouldn't. Ritsuka knew he shouldn't. Knew it like it was the first thing Olga drilled into him each time they met for a lesson, page one of each gnarled book he was given.
"What lesson is that?" Yet he still asked. The Wise King was all smiles.
"Never lay in bed with crazy maids."
He felt his fingers digging into his scalp before he realized he was trying to make fists of them. It was the same time Ritsuka realized the Pope, the head of the papacy in these trying times of defense and restoration, was staring with open shock at the king of Israel, one chosen by God to lead. And he couldn't deny the man for a moment.
Of all ways the wise king could act, stupidly was hardly the first way one would assume.
"I… see…" the man swallowed slowly, running a hand over the bald cap on his head. "Then I would ask you not engage with the women in the homes. They are terrified of the men they do not know."
"Rightfully so!" Solomon was still all smiles. "It is a good thing my father taught me how to treat a woman properly. Encouraging trust and need is a necessity." Ritsuka's mind whirled to David, and what he did once he was pronounced King after defeating Saul.
The devout man before him recalled it first.
"Then… I deeply request you avoid the people here." He looked about the cathedral. "They'll know you're like the others, not of this time. You'll do nothing but encourage distrust and fear in them, and there is too much of that at the moment."
"With barbarians at the gates, it's not difficult to imagine why." He leaned forward over Ritsuka's shoulder. "But your holiness, though we have come from the future, we don't know of why this is happening."
"They are here to rob what little of the church I have worked to restore, and take the women who keep the Lord's name holy." Ritsuka knew there was no falsehood or incorrectness to the words.
"Yes, but how… How did they come so quickly?"
"They came like a storm, turbulent as the words of war," the pope spoke as he walked towards the wall, battered soil under him. "A few came first, burning houses far long the waters. At the time, I was working to rebuild the papal states, having seen pirates burn and take before. When I saw them approaching, and heard their cries, I was immediate to act upon calling a guard."
Ritsuka followed him, looking over the stone wall around them. It was as grand as he once thought it would be, though only seen through pictures and videos, isolated in Japan as he was. Tall, intimidating, but so far no just a blockade more than a force to push away evil at the door. The force to keep the wall secured stood atop of it. The guard as the Pope just said.
The men who were few in number, few in arms, and few in hours of sleep. Even from so high up as they were, Ritsuka could see they were near exhaustion.
"It was after the first day I realized it was an act of devilry more than the greed of man that was sieging us. A fellow took the arm of a pirate, and spilled no blood and continued to run." Leo shook his head. "I thought they had gone mad with fright."
"It's what I would think," Ritsuka admitted. "But I'm sure something else happened. Didn't it?"
"It did. Following a prayer." He stopped in his march, pointing back towards the church. "I prayed to God for salvation from the horde, knowing that if these monsters came and were true, then the little land we had would be desecrated beyond repair. He answered me in a flash of light."
"Was it storming?" The smile of the man was bright.
"No, the Lord delivered me one to hold the storm." Eyes looked up, and Ritsuka followed.
Samson was atop the wall with the guard, the giant Judge walking behind them. His hand lay on each of the half-garbed men, saying words that were more mutterings from the distance Ritsuka stood at. Just his presence lifted the men up, who smiled as he passed. He felt the same.
"He told me his name, his purpose, and his class. The latter brought all the questions." Leo rolled his hand. "A Berserker, summoned by a Grail, an artifact made in the divinity of God's Chalice. To stave off the destruction of the Human Order, he was brought forth to push back the storm. And for a two days, he did."
Leo began to walk again, this time towards a set of stairs. Ritsuka followed him up, the steps uneven with hastily placed brick and stones. Solomon followed behind, silent as sandals and shoes slapped at the brick.
"The Saracen Pirates were unable to best the Judge of Israel, throwing them over hill-tops as though sand in the wind. I praised God and thanked him, and I thought it would be only patience that would stave us." The reached the top of the wall. "I was foolish to believe I saw God's plan." Eyes fell over the field of battle below. It was the second time Ritsuka had seen, but the first he was able to study it.
It was almost barren landscape, lacking vegetation of trees, bushes, or even tall grass. Scarred with trampling boots, bodies, and soil ripped by the eruption of something underneath. The few places that looked unmarred truly displayed an expression of fire, laid out across it. And those were beside what he had to imagine were once homes and welfares.
Bodies were spread across the land, though not to the number he thought a raid or war would produce. Enough to be unable to look away, but too few to be seen judgement of God. If anything, they looked to be the remains of the few unlucky souls that could not enter the church before the wall was raised, or unable to rise after being slain.
"Servants, like Samson, came after us. One of the clouds that I thought was God's anger, then another who raised weapons in the air I'd never seen, raining metal upon us with more ferocity than a hail of arrows." He leaned against the top of the wall, looking over it. "I watched homes turn to dust under the attack, and the Samson protecting those who he could behind his frame. He protected what he could."
He couldn't protect them all. Ritsuka realized what he meant. He looked to the giant again, past where Solomon stood. Two men stood before him, and they were easily covered by frame. A third at his side, shining next to him in the light.
"I prayed again, and Samson joined me, asking for salvation. I will confess that after the Lord delivered a fame judge to our door, I thought another would come. And indeed, others came, but none of what I thought." His eyes trailed back to the ground, the disappointment on his face near palpable. "You have met the two who came forth."
"They were not as I thought, and only one of them was willing to name herself, proudly at that." There was no confusion who he spoke of. Ritsuka found the 'Servant' as well.
Dancing in her hardly covering red garb, as if she were performing a grand performance, and not bragging about her well-being among the suffering and trapped.
"The other would not tell me his name, but he was keen to help. Keen, but passive. It reminded me too much of those that offended Christ the worst." His head twisted, finding the other red-garbed 'Hero'. The Archer, leaning casually against a hastily built home of stone. His eyes shut, head leaning back, and enjoying a broken breeze.
"Those of luke-warm cups insult our Lord the worst, for they do not set their hearts ablaze with love," Ritsuka recalled the teachings from the sisters. It earned him a gentle smile from the pious man.
"You know it well." Leo spoke. "Though both are Servants of the grail, I confess again I thought they would be those who would defend the land in the name of the Lord. Instead, they call me Master or contractor, and say that the land is either theirs, or a reason for their summon, even when they both say it was by the Holy Grail they were brought forth."
There was something wrong with that. Not a lie, but wrong. It was what Solomon referred to the Archer as. Not a Servant from the Grail, but a Counter-Guardian, the Counter-Force… something else. He looked up to the Wise King, seeing if he's speak more on it. He was only met with a lop-sided expression from the alabaster haired man.
"Their presence did assist us greatly a week along the siege." Leo spoke on. "But for reasons more than their blade or tools. Samson and the Archer, with arts I would think unholy magics if not witnessing to their creation, crafted stone and assisted in building the walls you stand on." Ritsuka couldn't help but look down as they walked. "Our clergy supported where they could, with plans I had made near a year ago during the first thievery, but their strength and arts is all that made it possible."
"Built up in a week's time is impressive," Solomon spoke. "Even slaves would suffer under the burden. Hopefully few of your men died making this." A face of disappointment, perhaps anger this time, turned to the king.
"None," the pope declared. "None of those who hold the Lord's name died fixing this wall. The Judge Samson and I saw that work was never given to the injured or lame. And the deadly Emperor was more than thrilled to slay the pirates that attempted to find weakness in its construction." He sighed deeply. "But it wasn't a week's time to make the wall. It was three. And the final two weeks only worked because I took to pray to the Lord for aid, sure that I was insulting after what he already delivered to me."
"It isn't a sin to ask for strength."
"It is to ask for a person to assist, for then I create an illusion of abandonment in my heart if it is not delivered." The pope circled his chest with the phrase. "I asked for those like Samson, the Archer, and Nero. And though it was sinful, the Lord delivered two more of these Servants. Once more a Servant who was proud of his name, and another I had never heard of." There were more.
Of course there were. The trees grew because of magic, and there was no way Nero, Samson, the Archer or even Solomon grew those. It had to be another Servant.
"You haven't met them, though I am sure you will meet one of them soon." Only one. "The other is beyond the walls, searching for the pirates." That made Ritsuka stop.
"He is… an assassin?" He recalled the role from his lessons with Olga. Assassins were best at searching for targets far from their Master. The shake of the man's head made it clear he was wrong.
"No, because he cannot speak." A mute? "He speaks in grunts and cries, and thirsts for blood. He is strong, but it is akin to having an unchained bull roam among sheep. I cannot risk it, nor is it a risk to let him search for the enemy beyond the gates." Ritsuka ran through the description again.
"A berserker then." Pope Leo nodded, waving a finger back and forth.
"Yes, that is what Samson referred to him as, different from himself." Wait, Samson was a Berserker? He looked to Solomon, the king shrugging his shoulders in either indifference or ignorance. "You're confused about the judge's title?"
"I didn't… think he was a Berserker." Ritsuka looked at the man again. Pointing to the horizon, men around him following his gaze. "He doesn't seem like one."
"I thought the same," the pope responded. "But as was explained to me, he 'fought' as a Berserker in life, and therefore the grail took nothing of his mind." Ritsuka stared at the man, unsure.
"If I may," Solomon interrupted. "What he means is that heroes are typically inscribed to the Throne of Heroes through their deeds and accomplishments. These usually come from either great wisdom or using a tool to slay a foe in some exceptional manner. Like, pulling a blade from stone, throwing a spear with your foot to gouge an enemy, or firing an arrow to split the ground." He wasn't familiar with one of those. "Berserkers, true berserkers, are made because they fight with boundless strength in war, and with no weapons that give them fame."
It clicked.
"He fought with an ox's jaw, and did so with no armor, sword, axe, or lance." Ritsuka recalled word for word a lesson about the strength of Samson. "If I watched it… I guess I would call it Berserker like."
"Either way, it allowed him to retain his sanity. The other Berserker, apparently, did not." The Pope tapped his head. "He was a famed spearman in an oriental country. I didn't know of him, but the Archer did. He appeared to laugh upon recognition." That didn't bode well to Ritsuka.
"Is it a concern?"
"He hasn't attacked us and he has been seen far from the walls, attacking pirates," the pope admitted with a sigh. "I do no have the strength to control a wild ox, not when our strength is needed to hold a slowly breaking wall." Breaking? Ritsuka looked over the edge of the wall.
He saw the split between the cobbled stones, held together by weight and light mortar. It was dizzying looking down from so high up, but he still traced the boulders, looking for signs of wear or damage, even if it was made a short time ago.
They weren't frequent, but they were there.
Cracks that ran like scars up the boulders, some axes stuck a finger's width deep into the granite, abrasions that looked to be inviting wear and erosion of support and mortar.
Not enough to give him pause or concern, but enough to know that it was not as immaculate as when it was constructed. Not even as when it was kept to in the modern age.
"So this… is a stalemate?" Ritsuka spoke slowly, adhering to the lessons Olga gave him. It made him change his mind. "No, the pirates appear capable of raising their dead, but the walls are slowly falling."
"Yes," the pope admitted with the joy of an injured worker. "Slowly, but it is wearing. Though I do not think the Saracen Pirates will do harm to the Servants who are here, I know that obstinance in their greed will eventually lead to the death of the people, the desecration of the church, and slow erosion of the faith." He put hands to the wall, leaning over it.
Bare as his head was, except for the ring of hair around it, it felt as if the soul of the world was covering the man's eyes. The weight of the future upon his shoulders.
"I have faith in God, but at times I cannot image carrying his word to the future if evil can endlessly spill upon the good soil."
It was hard to think of a quick comfort to the admittance. Ritsuka stared at the man, watching the pious leader take a moment before a battle of attrition.
"When the awe and disbelief of legends before me faded, and I took to faith that what I saw was genuine, it took me just as long to reconcile that one of the saviors of this land was the very one who wished it condemned." Leo had eyes on the red cloak of Nero. Ritsuka could not help but glare the same.
The woman, horrific as it was to say knowing the sex of the man in history, danced across the protected fields of the Vatican City. The people hid within their homes, the few outside putting hands to their ears and grimacing, all the tighter as the blonde danced before them, eager to belt out the howls of demons.
"I truly wondered if that was proof that the devil was working upon me, to accept vileness to protect the church. Accepting a poisoned apple in place of nurturing our own tree." The man's face shifted, adjusting the cloak over his shoulders. "It took the next raid for me to learn the truth of John's last writings."
"John… Revelations…" the word made the Master's eyes widen. He felt Solomon behind him do the same. "You say these are the end times?"
"No, at least I doubt so," the Pope attempted to ease. "There are many other signs that must come first, and I would be a fool to say these strifeful times are the worst the Church has ever endured. As we agreed, one responsible for its darkest hours dances next to it now."
"Then what do you mean by John?" Solomon asked in place of him.
"That the Lord is all powerful and all knowing. Even those who act against him only act in accordance to his plans. Lucifer, as he knew he would. Heaven was put to war, as he knew it would. Even Adam and Even taking the fruit, as he knew he would." Ritsuka knew it, too. "All act accordance to his plans. Nero, who proclaims that these lands are hers, says that the hoards outside are attempting to take her rights."
"Ah," the king made a noise of understanding. Ritsuka looked up, seeing his tanned expression nodding, complete even with a wry grin. "You are clever yourself to realize it."
"A clever man would have deduced it. I needed to read and put faith to it." Leo argued against himself.
"I'm sorry, but I don't understand," Ritsuka interrupted.
"My apologies," the Pope offered. "What I learned, or recognized, was that the Lord brought Nero her to defend the land she claimed was hers, knowing she was his enemy. Many others could be summoned, but few warriors of the Church was capable of war, few I may name at least. Instead, he brought a monster from the pits who danced under fire, and placed her in a position to turn the fire against our enemies."
"Or, more simply," Solomon followed. "Nero is our enemy, but the Pirates outside are wishing to take the treasures of 'Rome'. Her Rome, making them her enemies. They, also, wish to take the Church from the land. And the enemy of my enemy…"
"Is a friend," Ritsuka slowly finished. "Olga told me of that."
"Of course she did," Solomon laughed. "You really must remember to contact her later, before she thinks the worst of us not contacting her immediately." He really should, though he was already preparing for a reprimand on his tardiness.
"I will, but only after we meet the other Servants." Solomon blinked down at him. "She'd be upset if I met her without meeting them, saying that I should contract with them first."
"She did rush all over Chaldea when she thought Jesus was back," the Wise King agreed. "Not that she'd find him with eyes alone."
"Right," he smiled, remembering being dragged and looking for Christ. He looked at his hand, slightly calloused from training and work. Work done for the good of humanity, under the guidance of the woman in charge of monitoring its Order.
Both looking to the savior of mankind for aid.
"You said there was another Servant?" Ritsuka asked, facing Leo again. "The one who named himself." The pope made an expression of quick surprise, belied by a smile.
"I did, my apologies. I forgot to name him." His stance was a bit taller, looking caught between embarrassment and pride. "He is-"
"ROOOOOMAAAA!"
The cry almost made Ritsuka jump. It did make him tumble, caught only by the arm of Solomon. The king raised his ringed hand, doubtlessly ready to weave a spell of protection. For how the air shook with the cry, it would be needed. That was what the Master of Chaldea was sure of, until he heard the pope laughing.
"Forgive me, please forgive me," he returned. "That is no enemy at our gates. That is the Servant I spoke of." He walked the few paces to the interior edge of the wall, arm aimed down its ramparts. "He is a constant among the people and the men, providing as much encouragement as protection." Ritsuka followed his gesture. It didn't take long to find the Servant.
Standing tall as Solomon, and nearly as built as the famed Judge of Israel. His skin was tanned a deep bronze, enough that the sun almost reflected off of it, even as close to the buildings as he was. Bare a few scraps of red covered his frame, as if fashioned from torn and bloodied togas, but already straining against his figure. A figure that was held high and tall, arms out stretched and appearing like a moving statue.
"Oh citizens of my Roma! Do not fear these attacks that persist. Fellow Warriors of Rome have joined us to push back these invaders of Rome, for they are jealous of our great Roma!" His shout traveled to the sky, aided by the raise of his neck. But there was no one above him to shout to, not even a bird and hardly the clouds.
Despite, or perhaps to consequence, of his volume and size, a small crowd of citizens were gathered around him. Their robes discolored from wear and unable to be cleaned, hiding pale skin from hiding indoors, but people nonetheless looked up to him. Smiles upon their faces, either because of his nature as endearing or comical. It didn't matter which, as the smiles were genuine.
"Our great Roma has given us many boons and blessings, for all belongs to our great Roma, and this Roma will survive those who whish to be apart of it! For all belongs to Rome, and Rome will forever endure!" He struck his chest. It sounded so much like a drum, Ritsuka wondered if it was a part of an act he wasn't privy too.
"Confident as he is loud," the pope spoke next to him. "And one who I thought was going to tear down the church when he appeared. Yet he was awed by the sites that we made, assisted with its defense, and swear vengeance upon the pirates beyond the walls. I support his actions, though his speeches I cannot align with."
"He's very… nationalistic," Ritsuka tried, he did. "But he appears to be helping, whoever he is."
"He is the founder of Rome. Romulus." He didn't know the name. Solomon did.
"Romulus? One of two brothers who founded the first site of Rome?" The king stroked his chin, as if attempting to summon a beard. "That does explain more than a few quirks to that personality of his."
"So it does, enough for me to know he does not wish death or anger upon the people. When he came forth and listened to my plight, with Samson by my side, he was only eager to push back those who wished to destroy the church." Something didn't sound quite right.
"For the church?"
"For Roma!" The bronzed ruler shouted in apparent answer. "For this great faith you follow was born of Rome and Roma will carry it on! For all belongs to Roma and Roma will defend what is hers!"
"For Rome," Leo confirmed. "I don't entertain the belief he holds God as his Lord, saddened as I am by it. I do, however, know that much like his… vile successor, he was sent by a will greater than my own to defend our walls. I will not scorn blessings from my Lord."
Ritsuka watch Leo palm the baldness of his head, tracing the line between hair and skin. It was only after he pulled it away that he realized the sweat that covered the skin. Dried and slowly coming out, flaking at the touch.
"He does well to keep our Lord's followers protected and comforted. To scorn that would be to insult the Lord, of that I will not do. I only cautioned him from speaking ill of God. He laughed as I said such."
"He wants to mock the Lord?" Ritsuka almost stepped back in appalment.
"No," Leo laughed softly. "He said 'I would never insult the one who came from Rome'." It took the Master a long moment to think upon the meaning of the words. Longer still, and he wasn't sure if he thought bitter, ill, or neutrality upon them.
"A body such as his, it's no wonder he considers all things belonging to Rome," Solomon's… odd words came out. "I suppose the reason God didn't give me a physique such as that was to temper my already incorrigible spirit. Can't give a king too much after all. Just imagine the women who'd line to enter my throne if I was as broad and outspoken as that man."
Ritsuka didn't wish, want, desire, or need to imagine such a thing.
"It appears you already have a tongue to match," Leo spoke instead. It made Ritsuka look at the man in odd fashion.
"Ah, that he did. Quite the tongue indeed~!" Only for his head to whip back to the Servant.
He regretted it, watching the famed King waggle his tongue between his lips. Ritsuka gave a look of disgust. Leo made a sound of it.
"Enough, please," the pope dismissed. "I'll say again that there is another Servant beyond the walls, but I cannot recall him and I pray that he is giving the pirates pause between their assaults." He hurried to explain. "I have prayers to offer the Lord, promises to keep for the blessings he's bestowed us to endure these times. Speak to the others who've come like you and…" his gaze rested on the King of Israel, as if he were a child looking to jump. "Be kind with your words."
"We will, I promise you," Ritsuka spoke as fast and loud as he could without a shout. "I'll die before I let the Church fall." The words were enough to bring attention back to him.
"And I am honored to hear it, though I do not desire it." Hands found his shoulders again. "Follow God's words, and speak to me after I've finished my prayers. I am sure there is much more for us to talk about than just what I have seen." A smile painted itself over the clergy's face. "I am sure you have as much to share." Ritsuka smiled back.
"Oh there will be plenty to share," Solomon added, to the boy's instant regret. "Sharing everything from stories, food, housing, women, all the same."
Ritsuka massaged the steep of his brow, hoping it would encourage the pulsing of his head to subside, or at least make the tightness in his chest move.
"I am both pleased and disturbed to tell you, King of Israel, that there are no women for you to claim here." Solomon was not offput by the words.
"Oh there never are at first. But a few good promises and showing my own devotion to the Lord often encourages a change in pace." He couldn't hit him. Not in front of the Pope. He couldn't. "But it appears that Romulus is eager to remain faithful."
"Not faithful to God, faithful to his empire," Leo corrected. "But I am not in a position to scorn one who will offer body and soul to see the people safe." The pope inclined his head. "Ritsuka of Chaldea, King Solomon…" his eyes shut briefly. "I pray that you will offer the last strength we need to harden the Lord's future, so we may endure these times."
He walked away, down the ramparts of the wall and towards the muscular Lancer.
He was hardly more than a few paces away before the Master turned to his Servant, a tired anger boiling at the back of his throat.
"Why did you tell him your sins?" Ritsuka finally managed to ask. Solomon shook his head as if stunned.
"I'm sorry? Who and what sins?"
"Pope Leo, of how you are attracted to women." The Master lead on. "You have not fawned over every women we have seen. You did not yearn for the fake Jeanne, Princess Marie, not Olga, and not Da Vinci. You are not some vagrant."
"That you know of~."
"That I know," Ritsuka pushed on. "There's no way they would have stayed quiet, and you don't know how to stay quiet." Solomon laughed, leaning back until his alabaster hair hung like the ends of a mop.
"Fair point! Wisdom flows from you as well." He smiled as he faced his Master again. "Enough so that I wish for the Pope to only come to you for matters that arise."
"Solomon-"
"Ritsuka, I'm not joking," the tone of the king dropped. "Pope Leo is not an uneducated man. He knows of my legend and how I made judgements to the people. Samson does as well, and may just as easily have sought me out for consult. Things that they could ask me, but shouldn't."
"You're the King of Israel," Ritsuka pushed back. "The most known feat is your wisdom."
"But I'm a Servant, with half as much to my name as before." He wave his single ringed hand, chinkling metal together. "You, on the other hand, are the Master who will be bound to the other Servants here. They will need to see you first as the leader, not me. If they see me as wiser and more learned, they'll talk to me and disregard you."
Ritsuka held his tongue as the king went on. Golden eyes bore into him with the light of heaven, and he knew it was more than air Solomon was pushing out.
"For expedience, for safety, and for the growth of your abilities, they need to see you as wiser than me."
"But..." he started. He thought, leaned on it, and realized Solomon did have a point. If he was pushed away, it be no different than if he was the last Master in Chaldea, ignored until absolutely needed. Something Jesus had told him was no longer his path. Solomon was right.
But he was foregoing a crucial detail.
"You didn't make yourself unwise, just crude." He held up his hands. "Why did you talk about laying with women of faith in front of the pope?" Solomon just chuckled.
"Yeah, it was crude. I'd have to be pretty stupid to do that, wouldn't I?" He was all smiles. Ritsuka narrowed his gaze.
"Ah, Master, you've returned." Archer spoke up, voice easy as a half-pulled bow-string. "I trust you were able to survey the walls? With a Servant who lived among them, I'm sure they were judged well."
"They were," Ritsuka did all that he could to move past him. The red-clothed man, however, let silver eyes trace his figure. By effect of his Class or a part of his unknown history, Archer found something off, and seized it.
"Your hand is wounded," he pointed towards Ritsuka's clenched fist. "Please tell me you didn't strike the wall out of frustration. That would be most unwise." The Master sighed.
"Yeah, it would have been." He looked back. "I can't say I didn't do that, though." The Archer raised a brow and followed his gaze. Both brows rose as Solomon approached.
He sported a smarting black eye, held up pridefully above his long grin.
The Archer quirked his own brow in confusion.
"I do have a question for you though," Ritsuka turned the conversation, allowing the tall man's silver eyes to fall back on him. "I've met almost all of the Servants, but at the very least I have their names. Except yours. Even Pope Leo only refers to you as Archer."
"For that is my class. It is appropriate."
"But we aren't in a war," Ritsuka responded before sighing. "Not a holy grail war that needs anonymity. Director Olga told me it was appropriate then to prevent a hero's legend from being known, and their weakness. Right now, we are facing an enemy of mankind."
"Are they less likely to use my weaknesses against me?" The question was full of mirth.
"They can't, at least they can't enter here to do so. And knowing your name would help us."
"It would? How, may I ask, Master?" The tanned man folded his arms over his chest, watching him like an amused child. "If I spoke my name, how would it assist you in defending these walls, killing the invaders, and protecting the order of Mankind?
"I'd know who you are, so I could call your name."
"Call me Archer, as that is what I am. No one else here will answer such when asked."
"I don't call Solomon Caster. I won't refer to Samson Berserker. I refuse to forget Nero's name." Ritsuka watched the man, his casualness with the discussion off-putting. It reminded him too much of the men outside church, watching pridefully at empty pews. "Don't you want to be called by your name?"
"I do not." The simplicity of the answer was almost disturbing. "Forgive me if you wish, but I do not have any love for my name. It is not a name you would know and carries no strength in being uttered. It is a useless detail to my life, so I don't wish to share it."
Memories came to him in a moment, without wish for recollection. Him sitting alone in church, too young for his legs to reach the floor. A father sitting beside him, calmly asking what he was waiting for, asking what he wished to be called. Him, naming himself something appropriate, and the father correcting him, that he was already named, and not by his own voice.
"If you had a name, someone gave it to you." Ritsuka spoke. The archer blinked at him. "Someone, who even if for a moment, cared about you. Don't you want to use that name?"
His reply didn't come immediately, not with words. Instead, Ritsuka watched as the calm expression of the archer shifted a hair. Aloofness changed to stoicism, drooping eyes to hardened slits, easy to difficult. Ritsuka didn't shift under the gaze, but he felt Solomon take a step closer to him.
"Ah, and I apologize, I seem to have spoken too soon." Ritsuka fought the urge to tilt his head. "I appear to have been referring to you as Master, but we have not yet sworn our Servanthood to you yet. I'm sure that will come soon, but at the moment, you are not my Master, and I am not your Servant." The archer's silver eyes were hard.
Ritsuka took a step back. Clap. And felt the hard hand of the Wise King on his shoulder.
"He is not yet, but he soon will be," Solomon spoke. "And only a true fool would make threats to a known Master. You're not foolish, are you?"
The question was meant to make the man stop and think. Ritsuka knew that, from the tone and manners in which the king spoke.
Instead, it only made the Archer laugh.
"Oh wise king of Israel, I am making no threats, only recognizing where we currently stand. I would hate to trespass upon tradition here, after all." He made a flourish of his arms, mockingly so. "Here where the grandest religion is founded, I must adhere to the word, don't I? And that word says every Servant must serve their master, yet I have not yet been given to you." He opened his mouth to respond. "Again, forgive me if you wish, but I will not allow you my name. If you want it, order it out of me later."
The Archer turned, walking away without a glance back. No sight, but more than ready to fling words.
"If you wish to bother Servants you'll soon take command of, speak to the founder of this land. Him or his successor." The Archer tilted his head back with the words. His smile, half-seen, was all teeth. "I'm sure you'd be thrilled to speak to either of them."
Ritsuka let him walk away, held firm by the hand of Solomon. He did not have anywhere to vanish to, but he made more of a point to weave between the cobblestone buildings, letting himself be hidden by stone, clay, and marble. The Chaldea Master let him go, unable to think of words to return with.
"Quite a mouth he has, sniping with more than his swords," Solomon quipped behind him. "Almost afraid to think that if he were from times like these, he'd be executed for his words."
"It isn't normal," Ritsuka agreed. "Not wanting to be called your name by your friends." The words made the king laugh, even through his blackened eye.
"Oh I'm rather sure we are far from his friends. You proved that by reminding him of some dark element of his past. Nice touch by the way." The hand clasping his shoulder tapped it twice. "So what are you going to do now? Take his advice and give the Nero or Romulus a chat? Maybe this would be a good time to have a longer talk with the pope."
It would be a curse to say both were good options. One was far preferred over the other and to consider them equal was almost blasphemy. But Ritsuka didn't take either, his mind thinking of other things.
Thinking of the one person he promised he'd speak to in haste.
"I think… I need to talk to Olga." He looked upon his wristlet, wondering where he would even begin. "And then I'll pray."