Jaune Arc was the Rusted Knight. The Rusted Knight was her Servant. Jaune Arc was her Servant. Her Servant was Jaune Arc. Her Servant was the Rusted Knight. Did she miss anything?
Pyrrha's thoughts kept rearranging themselves in vain attempts to find some sort of fault in that process. Unfortunately, that never came. As Jaune—Rider—Rusted Knight? She wasn't sure what to call him. He stood in front of her and she was still staring at him. For once, it wasn't the kind of stare that she would have given him back in Beacon but that of disbelief. Was she dreaming? Had she died in her grief and this was the afterlife where the two had met again?
She slapped herself repeatedly that her Servant had to hold her hands. His gloves felt worn and rough. The hands were warm
"Hey, hey," he repeated. "It's not a dream, Pyrrha! It's really me! I guess? Sort off? Look, what happened to the me here?"
"W-what do you mean?" Pyrrha asked. "Y-you don't know?"
"Mind's a little fuzzy, I have general information and a little bit of my life but that is being mixed with the Rusted Knight's memories."
Pyrrha shook her head. "Are you Jaune? Or are you the Rusted Knight?"
"Well, yes." He sounded unsure. "But also no? More like a template?"
Things were making less sense by the minute. She buried her head in her palms. "I-I don't know. What's happening?" Her knees were screaming as though she was tired. Her entire being ached. Her head was heavy. "What's happening? I can't do this! I need a break. I need to rest."
"Pyrrha!" he called. "Master! It will be—just call me Rider, okay? Much easier. Look, I'll put on my helmet, see?"
It was doing little to alleviate her concerns. How could it? She knows the face behind that helmet. Now that she was looking at him, she could see hints of his old armor pieces alongside the new. The torn red sash around his hip was what caught her attention. The color of it was similar to her own.
"J-just give me a moment, J—Rider," Pyrrha said. Her vision was blurring and her hearing was buzzing. "I-I need time to take it in."
Pyrrha laid her head against the cold hard floor. Even that felt comfortable and it felt as though the pain in her head was being transferred to the ground. It was like in her early career as a competitive fighter. Most would overexert themselves without understanding the importance of pacing and would end up in a terrible physical state. The lack of oxygen, blood flow, and a heart rate that wasn't used to this sort of activity would make its presence known. Pyrrha was no exception to that.
Air was being wafted at her. Jaune—Rider—her Servant was giving her air. The cool night was doing little and Pyrrha had to check if her temperature was alright. A scent filled her nose. Some kind of scented oil. When did he get one of those? Did she bring any? Whatever. Too much information was already being crammed at once.
Slowly, her vision her returned and her hearing was cleared of any sort of static. Rider was still there and kept his helmet on. Her mind was clearing. Still, Pyrrha massaged her temples. What a day, this had been. First, she had met with a repentant Cardin Winchester, a regretful Jacques Arc, and now, she brought her partner from the dead who is now apparently the fairytale hero that she and many others grew up with! Combine that with the existence of magic, Grail Wars, and Heroic Spirits, Pyrrha was certain that she needed things to slow down a little.
She looked towards her Servant. Her partner. It was still hard to believe and she had seen many things that were hard to believe in recent times. Rider's helmet was facing towards Crocea Mors. Now that she paid attention to it, his was strapped to his back. How did he become the Rusted Knight? That tale had long been written before she had ever been born. Jaune certainly wasn't a good liar and she was certain that he wasn't some sort of secret immortal. Time travel? Was that even—oh forget it.
"Master," he asked. His voice was low and kept himself restrained, distancing himself from the Jaune she knew. "What happened to Jaune?"
"He-he's gone," Pyrrha replied. "Died a hero." There. Considering that the one before her had become one, he had to.
Rider nodded his head. It too a moment for him to speak again. "So I took your place this time."
His fingers traced the red sash. Pyrrha focused on it and looked to her own. She looked at him again, realization hitting her. "What happened?"
"You died a braver hero than I probably did here." Rider held something back.
"How did you become the Rusted Knight?"
"It's a long story, P-Master." He rose and offered her a hand. "Let's get you some better place to rest first. I'll explain there."
"Wait. Tomorrow. At Patch. There are… others like you. Friends. Allies? Future enemies?"
There was a pause. Then, he nodded. "Tomorrow." Soon he dematerialized, leaving Pyrrha alone once more.
Pyrrha stood there staring into nothing. Her eyes were looking at something but the image didn't register for her mind was filled solely with the Jaune that stood before her. Rider. That would make things easier. She looked down towards Crocea Mors, her catalyst. She had hoped that she would get someone who could help her avenge Jaune. Instead, she got some alternate-timeline version of him where he became the Rusted Knight somehow.
"If magic is real." She didn't stop massaging her forehead. "I suppose time travel is a thing, too? Wait." Her mind stopped. "We get to make a wish for the Holy Grail, right? Headmaster Ozpin said that. I—no, I-I can't do that." Pyrrha bit her fingers. Her aura protected it from any sort of damage. As her mind slowly caught up with all this new information, there was one thing that stuck longer than the others.
She had lost Jaune once. Now she had been given the chance to bring him back. Does she want to take that risk? Should she take that risk? Pyrrha had forgotten her weapons as she was walking away. She came back the moment she remembered it. Her thoughts locked on those questions. Salem's immortality or Jaune's revival?
/-/
Servant: Rider. True Name: Rusted Knight. AKA Jaune Arc. It was a different experience for him being in this form. His memories were fuzzy, mixed in with what of the living Jaune Arc that had shaped him and that of the Rusted Knight as Lewis wrote them.
Flying machines? Bullhead. Tall towers? That's probably Beacon or any other academy. Stone walls and castles? Okay, that is definitely Lewis. Rider was sifting through his memories and information given to him by the Grail. Through his Master's eyes, he was looking through the current state of Beacon. He remembered this still. It was similar with one noticeable difference was that the Wyvern Grimm that was supposed to be on the tower is gone. The tower still stood.
Speaking of his Master, he never would have guessed that Pyrrha of all people would have been his Master. His partner! His mentor! The person who always believed in him has now called upon him to help her. He didn't know it at the time but he had felt compelled to heed that call, with or without the catalyst. Seeing her now, it made sense.
If Pyrrha is here, then… He himself was already from an alternate timeline but what would that mean for Pyrrha here? No. If he had been in physical form, he would have shaken his head. He wouldn't allow her to go through what he did. No one deserved that isolation. He nearly lost his mind there. Even if he was confident that she could handle it—Pyrrha always had been stronger than he was, physically and mentally—she shouldn't go through any of that. If they ever reach that point, Jaune—Rider will take that mantle again.
His Master went inside an apartment of sorts. It was big. Too big for any one person to use. Looking at the surroundings, he understood. Team JNPR still stuck together at least. Of course they would, he was a terrible combatant and was really just holding them back. With Pyrrha? They'll be in an even better condition. Though perhaps he might need to guide her on the leadership role. Then again, Ruby could do that enough probably. Maybe on adjusting with Ruby's leadership style?
Rider's prowess came from his being a Servant. If he ever had a chance to meet Lewis, he really needed to thank him. Writing that fairytale as he did means that his abilities reflected more on his legend than that of Jaune Arc's life.
Not all of them, though. Some were clearly aspects of himself that had been included. Who knows? Lewis must have gotten through some revisions and rewrites. He never really paid much attention to such things growing up. Perhaps it came from some other tale that had become associated with his own. He'd like to think that Lewis tried to keep it as close to his actual self as he could write it.
"J—Rider," Pyrrha said. "You can come out. Ren and Nora actually went ahead to Patch."
"Of course." Rider complied. The sight of his p—master looking so unsure was not a new experience to him. The first time he had seen it was in his life, before he had learned of the truth about the headmaster.
"I don't want to have you explain again but can I ask what happened to me? To us?"
Rider nodded. "Where do you want me to start?"
"Anywhere… the beginning. Wait." She took a deep breath and took a seat by one of the bed. "I'm ready now. I want to see your face, Rider."
A second past before Rider took off his helmet. It was slow and he didn't want it to be sudden. He could see clearly that something got stuck on her throat as her hands trembled. The sight of that familiar face must still be getting to her. Having looked at what happened just outside, Rider could tell that Beacon's fall was still rather fresh in people's minds.
"I…" Rider paused, choosing his words carefully. "I suppose it began when we—when the you I knew pushed me into a locker..."
He told them everything he knew up to that point. His memory of that day still burned strongly into himself. His Spirit Origin? Lewis must have mixed some things from his actual life and it dragged other aspects of himself into the Servant he now is. Pyrrha and he exchanged notes up to that point and while he had offered, his Master insisted on not knowing that future. Since he hadn't summoned his Servant during his life, there was no telling if it would still be the same events here no matter how confident he felt it to be the case.
She eventually went to rest her aching head. Rider could tell that she was struggling to sleep. Those wrinkles on that forehead gave it all away. Eventually, she did fall to an uncomfortable slumber. Rider had to make sure that she didn't have a fever. She wasn't burning which was good. The stress of the whole thing must have gotten to her.
"Pyrrha will be fine," Rider whispered to himself. "She's stronger than this." He was confident that she would get over it faster than he ever did and unlike him, she wouldn't relapse to this whenever life decided to be cruel.
As a Servant, he didn't need to sleep. With potential enemies nearby, Rider chose to stay up and watch. From out the window, he was observing the comings and goings of even the flying paper waste. It was cold out with no one else present. Only those without homes were out and about, struggling to find shelter and warmth by a barrel full of trash set on fire.
He turned back to the room that his Master was staying in. It was somewhat of a mess and needed cleaning. Not much but he might as well do something about it. That paper from earlier gave him an idea.
"Hello brave knight," a voice was heard from behind him. "You have need of me?"
"If it isn't too much ask, Jaune," Rider replied. "I would like you to clean this room."
"Of course, brave knight." The star-shaped Paper Pleaser bowed and proceeded to take what trash was there and even began to beautify the room a little.
Paper Pleasers, huh. Rider was testing out some of his abilities and their strain on Master's aura. It isn't much but that is more to do with the fact that there is only one Paper Pleaser. It still gave him some time to go through all the information about himself. When was I ever a musician? I had a guitar but I never played in years! He must have recounted many tales to Lewis and Alyx during his time. Lewis put too much embellishments.
Speaking off, he couldn't find any copy of the Girl who Fell Through the World. Shame. He hadn't read that in a long time and wanted to compare any of Lewis' embellishments to that of his memories. Considering that this timeline's Jaune never fell to the Ever After, he would rather take some measures.
"I shouldn't even be having these memories at all," he concluded. He stared outside the window again. Specifically, he was staring at the stars that dotted the night sky. There was a nostalgic feeling to it. He felt comfortable and knowing of those stars. He found himself rubbing his own arms for warmth at the sight of those cold clouds. It's like I've been through one myself. Eh, perhaps someone, somewhere did something crazy with Lewis' works that it just became synonymous with the Rusted Knight. His memories as Jaune made that difficult to cypher through.
He could hear the sounds of ticking. There was no clock in the room, not a mechanical one anyway. Hearing it made him sigh. He may be a Servant but he could still feel the same effects as any other person. Tick tock. Tick tock. Tick tock.
Rider shook his head. Not this time. He may not have been strong enough to save her in life but he was a Servant now. As undeserving he was to call himself a hero, let alone one of Remnant's greatest, he had answered her call. This moment. This circumstance. All this is a miracle.
"What more can I ask for?" Just seeing her again and seeing her actually alive was more than enough for him.
The ticking noises continued in his head. But they had become faint and distant. For this night at least, there was no trouble, just quiet. Jaune the Paper Pleaser soon vanished when his job was done.
Though he shouldn't feel tired, the idleness and stillness of night made it a rather sleep-inducing experience for Rider. His eyes grew heavy as his head occasionally dipped down. Despite that, he kept himself up. It was unfitting for the Rusted Knight. That's right. He isn't Jaune Arc but the Rusted Knight. He'll be a proper Heroic Spirit fit to be a Servant for someone like Pyrrha Nikos. She deserves that much. She deserves more than what Jaune Arc is.
Hours ticked on by until the first light of day creeped in. Rider was the first to greet it. He didn't sleep. He looked back at his Master's sleeping form. Pyrrha had gotten a bit more comfortable during the night. He left her there and made his way to the kitchens. There wasn't much there, mainly pancakes along with some syrup. Rider chuckled. He could work with that. Can't say much about the syrup with how little was left but Servants don't need to eat, technically.
Pyrrha soon came into the kitchen, probably at the sounds of his cooking. "J-Rider?" She was still drowsy and was rubbing her eye.
"Made you breakfast, Master." Rider put down the plates. "Only pancakes though. Not much to work with otherwise."
He managed to get a light chuckle from her. Nice. She was already doing better than he did. Considering that he wallowed in his own grief for months, it definitely wasn't a high bar to overcome. Not like there was any doubt; it was Pyrrha after all.
"What about you?"
"Servants don't need to eat," Rider assured her. "If anything else, we could always pick something up on the way to Patch."
Rather than stare at his own Master, Rider opted to do what clean-up he could. While having a Paper Pleaser would make it easier, it involved water. Nothing more needs to be said about paper and water. Of course, he had to be out of his armor for that and so he did.
"What kind of outfit is that, Rider?" Pyrrha asked. She was observing his new attire.
"I… honestly don't know." Rider never recalled a time he had worn a tunic. The red sash was still there and served as a belt. But he also had a longer red scarf around his neck. "Maybe something to do with my legend?"
"You don't know your own legend?"
"I—" Rider paused. He really should have known his own legend shouldn't he? How else was he supposed to be a proper Servant if he can't even recall details of his made-up life? Lewis must either not have embellished much or his being Jaune really took over his Spirit Origin. Sighing, he shrugged. "It's probably because I am a mix of J—your partner and that of how people think of the Rusted Knight." It is the best guess he could come up with anyway. "Besides, y—my Pyrrha didn't exactly make it this far. Details, you know?"
When Pyrrha had finished and he did the cleaning, she said to him: "there's someplace I want to go to first before we go."
Rider nodded and the two—mostly Pyrrha, Rider had dematerialized—made their way towards the cemetery. Many people were passing by here that he guessed correctly that this must have been meant for those defending Beacon. He wasn't sure if his had something like this. There probably was and he never bothered to check. His Master had brought two candles.
The first had been unsurprising. It was the Jaune of this world. He could tell right away even from that distance. Pyrrha gave a few words to this Jaune that Rider could not hear. He could if he wanted to but he wanted to respect her privacy there. He was her Servant now. He was the Rusted Knight. It was better than if he were Jaune Arc.
The second was a surprise, however. What had happened in this timeline that she would visit Sky Lark's grave? Had he even died during Rider's time? He hadn't known. It had taken a while to find his grave which told Rider that this must have been Pyrrha's first time visiting the guy. As they were searching, Rider wondered how many of these people's names wouldn't be here in his timeline.
"Cardin changed a lot since you—the you here—stood up to him." She wasn't quite there yet. But she will separate both him the Servant and him the partner in time.
"I didn't know that," Rider admitted. He never really paid much attention to Cardin afterwards in his time either.
Pyrrha chuckled weakly. "Neither did I until after all this. I'm guessing that never happened in yours." He shook his head. She must have felt it for she continued. "I met your father too. He let me keep your weapon and I guess that's why it was you."
"The closer and more specific the catalyst is to the Heroic Spirit, the higher the chances that it would be them." Rider confirmed. With Crocea Mors? Who else could it be? Perhaps his ancestors though he wasn't sure how much their fame would stack against the Rusted Knight. Also, his father? He definitely didn't want to face them like this. Best if he never see them again; it will only hurt them more.
Soon after, both of them made their way towards the docks. There were no airships that would bring them to Patch but seafaring vessels were available to them. Pyrrha only needed the fee for one while Rider stayed in his spirit form. It wouldn't do for them if people see some knightly figure covered in rust; they'll probably think he was some strange huntsman who deludes himself into thinking that he is the Rusted Knight, even though in this case, he really was the genuine article.
The sea breeze blew warm winds against Pyrrha's face. The vessel moved quickly that it was fortunate that Pyrrha had something to hold onto while she was there. The rising and falling of the ship made the inexperienced passenger regret whatever meals they have taken. It lasted for nearly half an hour. Patch was rather far from the mainland.
Isolated from much of Vale, Patch proved itself rather safe for the most part but it still had its fair share of Grimm. Signal Academy was stationed here which meant that the students had Grimm to train against. Pyrrha had been alone when she departed from the vessel. She had directions and a map to their destination though.
As she walked her way there, she kept her arms ready. Rider had materialized soon after when there were no other witnesses. For the sake of safety and subtlety, he wasn't in his armor. He could do well enough against common Grimm. The few that they did encounter were so few and of little consequence, either of them were more than enough to handle it.
Rather than stone or concrete, the roads of Patch were dirt roads made by repeated travel. Grass became the barriers and served as the closest thing to a sidewalk. Rider had returned to his spirit form again once the number of houses had begun to increase.
"We're getting close," he said.
"From memory?" she asked.
"If it was the same, Ruby would be visiting her mother."
"But that was only you guys. Headmaster Ozpin himself had called this meeting."
"Master," Rider suddenly cautioned. Ozpin is alive in this one? Alright, then. That was another difference. "I sense another Servant."
Pyrrha didn't seem worried. "Probably one of our allies."
True enough to her word, the first individual was a Servant. Rider didn't need to materialize since the Servant before them, Lancer judging from that weapon, must have seen them coming from miles away but didn't act.
"About time you got here, kid," Lancer asked. "What? Your Servant is too shy or something? Tell him to come on out. No one else would be here."
Rider waited for Pyrrha to give him that command. When she did, he appeared in full armor.
Lancer whistled. "Well, if it wasn't for his majesty already inside, I would have pegged you for the Saber."
"The other one is a Saber?" Rider asked. He may not recognize that mask, but he recognized those clothes and that weapon. So this was what that old lady would have looked like when she had been younger. Rider soon introduced himself by his class.
"Maria Calavera." She didn't even bother hiding her true name. "Eh. I'm beating you all after this anyway, so why bother?"
"For now." Rider shrugged. Cocky bastard. They'll see. "Rusted Knight. I'll tell the others later."
"Yeah, I already know," Lancer replied. "Holy Grail, remember? Names are pretty much there, you know. Plus, not that hard to figure you out. Not that many have rusted armor."
"Rider?" Pyrrha asked.
For a moment, Lancer froze. The other Servants never told their Masters that he could be summoned, did they? Already, they were securing their own victories.
"Someone you may or may not meet later on. Of course, she'll be an old hag by then."
"Hey! I aged like wine, blondie," Lancer rebuked.
"Sure you did." Rider rolled his eyes behind that helmet.
Nora and Ren were the first to greet the two. Ren had been outside, meditating, when he had seen them. Nora was with him there, taking in the pleasant breeze. With the trees that surrounded them, there was plenty of shade under the sun.
Predictably, Nora was the first as she grabbed Pyrrha, raising her in the air, and hugged her tight.
"This is your Servant?" Nora said.
Rider bowed courteously. That's what knights do, don't they? He couldn't speak to them in the same manner as he did, not yet anyway. He really didn't want to explain himself twice. If he could, he would rather that he didn't reveal that part of himself at all. But that was cruel if he had asked his Master to bear that burden alone, no matter how confident he was in her ability to keep it. There was a tradeoff and this was one he was willing to take.
"He is Rider," Pyrrha introduced. "As for the true name… well, best if we do it later. Have everyone around for convenience."
Lancer joined the conversation. To Ren, she said, "you better get some tissues ready, kid."
"Why?" asked Ren.
"Trust me, you'll need it." Lancer must have winked at Rider behind that mask.
Ruby must have heard their conversation for she had opened the door and ushered them all inside. Of course, that came after gushing a little at the sight of Rider. There could be no mistake that his identity as the Rusted Knight would have been easy to figure out here in Remnant. Not many people had a distinctively noted presence like he did here.
He had been proven wrong the moment he stepped into the Xiao-Long-Rose household.
I should have paid more attention. He remembered Lancer's words moments earlier. His majesty, indeed.
Before him stood the Saber of this Holy Grail War, the King of Vale of the Great War. One didn't need to guess with that ornate-looking sword that was synonymous with his majesty.
At least, Saber tried to appear surprised at his appearance. "The Rusted Knight, huh?" Saber turned to Pyrrha who could only shrug. "It is a pleasure to see you again. Though, I certainly didn't expect it would be this soon."
"Is it really something that Heroic Spirits would know?" Pyrrha asked.
"We would. Heroic Spirits are formed by their legends and myths. The Grail grants us knowledge of those that came before and after; it is only a matter of figuring out which one based on clues. With it also comes their names, their true names." Saber answered.
"Wait." Pyrrha realized something. "Does that mean that—"
Headmaster Ozpin entered the room, along with Taiyang, Qrow, and a disarmed Yang. "Saber. Our last Master has arrived, then?" They all paused at the sight of Rider's presence.
"Is this everybody?" Rider asked.
"Yep," Lancer replied.
"Good. I really didn't want to do this multiple times." Rider removed his helmet, shocking most of the people here once more. Only Taiyang and Qrow weren't surprised; those two were more confused. The other Servants observed their Masters.
Yang, who had gone through a lot already, appeared to have the least emotional reaction. There was surprise, certainly. But that lasted only a moment. Afterwards, it was mostly questions from everyone else.
Ren and Nora had the most extreme. They already had to deal with the loss of their team leader and now he was standing before them again. Not as Jaune Arc but as the Rusted Knight. Ren in particular was the most expressive as though he was staring at a ghost. He wasn't wrong in a sense. Rider was practically a ghost anyway. Nora nearly broke down crying.
Headmaster Ozpin was a surprise. Who would have thought that he would have surprised someone like the headmaster? Ironically, his Servant was the one who wasn't surprised at all. The Holy Grail really had given them all knowledge of other Servants; it was only a matter of figuring out which one they are among a list of many.
Ruby was the first to speak. "Jaune?" Her voice was weak and shaking. "Y-you're the Rusted Knight?"
"Yeah, Crater face." Rider nodded. Calling her by that name was also evidence. "It's uh, a long story. One filled with spoilers of what's to come if it goes the same. Oh and call me Rider, makes things easier."
/-/
Arthur Watts had to hide his amusement at seeing Cinder seethe with anger. All of the Masters, along with their Servants, had been called back by Salem and she presented to them a feed given by one of the stealthier Seers. While the Saber of the war had been reported by Cinder and the Servant that had been guarding that household was a Lancer, it was the final addition that had obtained their interest and Cinder's fury: Rider.
"What do you think, Caster?" asked Salem.
"An interesting fellow," Caster replied. "There is a connection between us. Though, perhaps it has more to do with whom we are from."
Next to Watts, Archer chuckled. Knowledge is power, the two of them agreed that much. However, Watts hadn't been a big fan of Archer after he had been one-upped by him. He did pride himself in his intelligence and to have that place taken from him was rather sour. But Archer offered to teach him many things and at first, Watts had been willing to take it for no other reason than to beat him at his own game. Nowadays, he found himself genuinely invested in the man. The web of that Archer had formed was too impressive for ego to criticize.
"Archer." Salem turned to address Watt's Servant. "Any progress on Assassin and their Master?"
Assassin. The enigma of this Grail War. Deduced to have been the first Servant to appear, none of them were able to find a hint of their identity nor that of their Master. Appearing only as a mysterious murderer within the four major kingdoms, Assassin has impeccable means of travel. The only thing that everyone knows with certainty is that Assassin was aligned with neither them nor their enemies. There was a third party involved, one with a vested interest in this Grail War.
"Without information on settlements outside the major kingdoms," Archer replied. "I speculate that Assassin must have been in these settlements in-between the killing sprees."
"Your little web?"
"But of course." Archer bowed. "With the other Saber dealt with, it piqued my interest to look into such matters. Though I must confess, I tend to be the one committing the crime. Being on the opposite end is a rather unique experience."
"But you are able to narrow down the list of candidates, yes?"
"Such things will be made elementary soon, milady. Assassin's Master will be revealed in time."
"Excellent." Salem turned to Watts. "You have chosen quite the capable Servant, Watts."
"Many thanks, milady." Watts followed in his Servant's footsteps.
Their meeting was adjourned after Salem had given them their next tasks. Watts had chosen not to stay considering that Caster was to go out soon. No one in that room needed to see the process that Master-Servant team went through that allowed Caster to travel far. Nobody will ever get used to Salem's screams as her heart kept coming back after being eaten by Caster, a reminder of her immortality. It still caused the hairs on Watt's body to stand stiff.
Taking the bullhead, Watts took controls.
"Speak what is on your mind, Master." Of course Archer would know if something was bothering him.
"You haven't proven yourself wrong, Archer," Watts replied. "And you're always certain of your deductions."
"Ah," Archer said. "You're referring to Assassin's Master." When Watts nodded, he continued. "A necessary thing to keep the others guessing. We could not trust either Salem or Ozpin should they realize, for better or for worse."
"But only in two kingdoms?"
"A limitation of manpower but one we could work with. Besides, it is only a matter of our Companions in the League doing their jobs. We are still aligned with them until then, after all. Even Mr. Kojirou understood that we had to keep our cover."
"Good." Watts didn't like it, considering what it could entail. "And with miss Fall's setback, we have ourselves a perfect opportunity in one very angry accomplice."
Honestly, she still obsesses over the Rusted Knight? What is she? A toddler? Wait. She probably still hasn't matured past it.
"Ah, she found her way to Mistral already?"
"The League's associates have informed us just before we lost contact with the CCT."
"Excellent. A bit ahead of schedule but it is welcome nonetheless."
"She would be frustrated at having to take another ship back to Vale, though. Smuggling one way was hard enough even with her talents. To think that the old Napoleon of Crime could be so active."
Archer laughed. "Only because you are here, Master! Do not think so low of your intelligence. Everyone could be a genius! One just needs to be ever eager to learn the skills necessary to obtain them!"
"Then, I look forward to learning more from you, Professor Moriarty."
"With the highest of pleasures, my dear Watts."
AN: One thing I realized only during writing is this: Bluebeard is based on Gilles, Jaune is based on Jeanne. *Eye poking intensifies*
Secondly, the Paper Pleasers were primarily from Iskandar's Ionioi Hetairoi, taking strangers are just friends you haven't met yet to an extreme. I had looked into Unlimited Blade Works at one point only to stop because my brain farted this out:
I am the fine print of my document. Paper is my body and ink is my blood. I have faxed over a thousand documents, unknown to typos nor known to format templates. Have withstood cuts to print many documents and yet, these folders will never hold anything. So, as I file, Unlimited Paper Works.
No, I will not be calling it that. Unlimited Paper Works sounds like a nightmare.