EMIYA (Archer) remained silent, though his expression held the usual calm indifference that masked whatever inner thoughts he was processing. His sharp eyes caught every detail in the room, especially focusing on Arturia as she explained her reasoning to the other Arturias and Servants.
The tension was palpable, especially with Lanturia glaring intensely, her serious expression never faltering. She seemed ready to challenge every word.
Lanturia: "You mean to tell me that in your weakened state, with all the options on the table, that was the best solution Tohsaka could think of?" — She asked, her voice sharp with a mix of disbelief and irritation.
Arturia: "It wasn't an ideal situation..." — Her voice faltered as she avoided direct eye contact with her more intense counterpart. — "But it was the only way to recover quickly enough to stand a chance against Heracles. Archer gave us the opportunity, but... yes, it was necessary."
The red blush on Arturia's face deepened as the memories from that time surfaced, and her body language reflected a mix of embarrassment and defensiveness. She seemed to shrink slightly under Lanturia's scrutiny.
Meanwhile, Lily seemed oblivious to the tension, happily examining Kansho and Bakuya in her hands as EMIYA (Rogue Archer) watched over her with a quiet but affectionate gaze. She twirled the blades in curiosity, clearly admiring their craftsmanship, and EMIYA couldn't help but let a faint smile escape.
EMIYA Assassin looked equally worn out, though his thoughts were more preoccupied with the fact that Irisviel had once again started making an album of embarrassing or questionable moments involving Shirou and Arturia. He sighed internally, knowing well that nothing good would come from this.
On the other side of the room, the conversation between Aquiles, Jason, Heracles, and Asclepius continued.
Jason: "Well, Cu Chulainn does seem to have a knack for getting involved with every crazy Servant he encounters..." — He chuckled nervously, running a hand through his hair. — "But hey, that's not our problem, right?"
Aquiles: "I mean, it could be worse... at least it's not Medea coming after me." — He looked pointedly at Heracles, who grumbled lowly, not particularly fond of being reminded of his past with the witch.
Asclepius: "And yet, here I am... patching him up every time one of these 'crazy women' decides to take a swing at him. I should start charging for this..." — He muttered, shaking his head.
Medea: "Oh, believe me, you don't want to get on my bad side, Jason." — Medea's voice was calm, but there was a dangerous edge to it that made Jason stiffen up instantly.
EMIYA: "You all are just as chaotic as usual..." — He commented dryly, shifting his attention back to the ongoing tension between the Arturia variants.
The room remained heavy with anticipation, waiting to see what would happen next between Lanturia and Arturia, while the rest of the Servants either sat in quiet reflection or continued with their individual conversations. The entire atmosphere felt like it was teetering on the edge, as if waiting for someone to say something that would push it all into chaos.
EMIYA: "I refuse to believe it's going to happen. It's not his style, not with Morgan... or anyone." — EMIYA crossed his arms, his brow furrowed in thought as he reflected on Shirou's moral compass, the values that defined him.
Senji nodded in agreement, though a glimmer of uncertainty crossed his face.
Senji: "Yeah... but even so, we've seen weirder things happen. Especially considering who we're dealing with... Morgan isn't exactly predictable."
DEMIYA continued to frown, clearly uneasy with the idea.
DEMIYA: "It's not that I doubt his ability to resist... but there's something about Morgan that feels... inevitable." — His voice trailed off, leaving the implication hanging in the air. — "She has a way of twisting situations, and Shirou might not even realize it until it's too late."
The other three exchanged uneasy glances, understanding the weight of DEMIYA's words. Morgan wasn't someone to be taken lightly, and her manipulation tactics were well-known.
Angra chuckled, though there was no humor in it.
Angra: "You're all in denial. Fate has a funny way of pushing things in directions we don't like, and this... well, I'd bet on Fergus being right before I'd bet against it." — His smug grin faltered slightly when he noticed the cold glares of the other three.
Before the conversation could escalate, Amor (Caren), still pretending to be asleep, smirked faintly to herself.
Amor (Caren) (thinking): "How interesting... They seem to underestimate how complicated human desires can be. Let's see how this plays out..."
Meanwhile, Lily was quietly nibbling on the food she had taken with her, her pout long forgotten as she enjoyed the treats, but she couldn't help but notice how the room felt heavy with tension. The Arturias were engaged in their own conversations, but every now and then, Lily glanced over at EMIYA and the others, sensing that something deeper was being discussed.
Lily (thinking): "Why are sempai and the others acting so strange...? I don't get it..."
Despite her confusion, Lily shrugged it off and continued eating.
Boudica: "Archer..." — The redhead approached her companion cautiously. "Do you mind coming with me for a moment?" she asked, a bit nervously, causing the Archer to raise an eyebrow.
Without saying anything, EMIYA got up from his seat and followed her to a different location.
Da Vinci: "So? Any clue as to why it keeps changing for no apparent reason?" — she asked, watching Merlin continue to inspect the machine that allowed them to view the alternate universe.
The wizard kept working, trying to figure out what was causing the random shifts in the broadcast.
Merlin: "Honestly, I have no idea. It could be Zelretch's doing... or maybe not." — he admitted, unable to fully understand why it was happening so erratically.
Da Vinci: "So, you're saying this will probably keep happening?" — she sighed, rubbing her forehead in frustration.
Merlin: "Most likely." — he nodded, confirming her suspicions.
Da Vinci: "Solomon, grant me patience..." — she muttered under her breath, remembering their old comrade and feeling the need for some divine intervention in this chaotic situation.
Meanwhile, Merlin had his own thoughts.
Merlin: "I just hope there's at least one explicit scene..." — the incubus mused to himself, hoping for something exciting to justify the chaotic changes, and wondering if he'd need to have a word with Zelretch about it later.
Back at the cafeteria:
Baobhan Sith: "Mmmm..." — she grumbled, clearly displeased.
Melusine: "Come on, Tristán, it wasn't that bad." — the dragon girl said with a nervous chuckle, noticing the small bead of sweat forming on her forehead. She couldn't believe Baobhan was this upset about such a trivial matter.
Baobhan Sith: "Of course you don't care. Your mother wasn't shown in an embarrassing state. Loli brat." — she snapped, her irritation evident, while Melusine nervously laughed off the insult.
Barghest: "I have to agree with Tristán this time. Lancelot, Your Majesty was portrayed in a less-than-favorable light in those recent videos. I suspect there's not much else of substance that will be revealed." — she gave her opinion, supporting Baobhan Sith, much to Melusine's disappointment.
Melusine: "Oh, come on. Don't act like you're not also curious about what the boy could bring out of her Majesty." — she teased, pointing at both of them. "You know, given the similarities in their Saint Graphs, you can't deny the potential for interesting developments like what happened with the King of Knights."
She gestured toward Artoria, who was currently enduring an intense interrogation from her other versions, all while wearing a deep blush on her face.
Melusine: "Fufufu" — She quietly enjoyed the information she had overheard, already making a mental note to 'investigate it personally'.
Baobhan Sith: — slamming her hand on the table — "Over my dead body will I allow my mother to be sullied by that filthy human." — She glared at the white-haired dragon girl, gripping the table with such force that the wood began to creak.
(Strength rank A...)
Melusine: "Come on, think of it this way—aside from gaining a father, we'd have a king to serve as well." — She skillfully hid her true intentions behind her words.
Crack!
The sound of the table cracking under Baobhan Sith's increasing grip was audible as she growled furiously at Melusine's suggestion.
Baobhan Sith: "Grrrr..." — The growl came deep from within her throat. The mere thought of accepting that as a stepfather was revolting. She would sooner call the adopted children of her mother in Pan-Human history her siblings than accept that lowly human as her new father.
Barghest: "Melusine, you're crossing a line here." — Her voice was stern, as she eyed the dragon girl, who only smiled with a mischievous glint in her eyes.
Melusine: "Ohhh, don't tell me you wouldn't want a king to serve, Bar~?" — The smile on Barghest's face twitched as she started to sense something bad (for her) was coming. Melusine's grin widened. — "Wouldn't you want to kneel before him, receiving his praise for your duties and following his every order?" — The suggestive tone in her voice was unmistakable, causing Barghest's face to turn bright red.
Barghest: "MELUSINE!" — She screamed, her face burning red, as steam practically shot out of her ears from the embarrassment.
Baobhan Sith: "Damn perverted loli!" — She growled angrily, her own cheeks tinged red with embarrassment as her ears twitched, clearly having also misinterpreted Melusine's words.
Melusine: "What? All I said was something as simple as being a 'knight' under orders. What kind of dirty things were you two perverts thinking of?" — She said with a smirk, enjoying how both Barghest and Baobhan Sith were reacting.
Neither of them responded. Barghest was too embarrassed to speak, and Baobhan Sith was trying to calm herself after realizing she'd fallen into Melusine's trap. Barghest, her face now practically the color of a tomato, tried her best to calm down as the dragon girl basked in her victory.
Barghest: "Mhooooo~" — She whined softly, utterly embarrassed. She swore on her honor as a knight that she wasn't like that. She would never betray her queen's love or trust, no matter who she chose to love.
With Archer...
EMIYA: "...Again?" — He asked with a flat expression, eyeing the redhead in front of him, who had her hands clasped together and a slight blush on her cheeks.
Boudica: "Please, Archer! You're the only one I can ask!" — She pleaded, her hands in front of her as if she were begging.
The red Archer sighed deeply as Boudica looked up at him with hope in her eyes, waiting for his response.
EMIYA: "Alright... I'll do it. But only because you're my partner in the kitchen. Let's make that clear." — He said, wanting to set the record straight, though Boudica's face lit up with excitement and gratitude.
Without warning, she jumped forward and hugged him tightly, pressing herself close to him in her excitement. EMIYA stiffened immediately, feeling her "assets" pressing against his chest.
Boudica: "Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, Archer!" — She beamed, rubbing her cheek against his while he desperately tried to maintain his composure.
EMIYA: "Alright... anyway, I'll help you after we're done with what Merlin wants us to see. Come to my room later tonight, and I'll assist you then." — He informed her, watching as the redhead eagerly nodded, still holding onto his hands.
Boudica: "Right! Thank you so much, Archer!" — She smiled warmly and sincerely, to which EMIYA closed his eyes and nodded, returning the smile.
Suddenly, a voice echoed through the speakers:
{All Servants and Satan, please return to the main hall so we can continue with the scheduled viewing.}
The scene shifts.
Angra: "I'm back, bitches, so let's continue with this shit!" – he spoke rudely while holding some snacks and drinks to enjoy the show.
Bunturia: ... – very upset by what she was seeing –
The blonde's anger was somewhat justified since the Servant representing [All the Evils of the World] was carrying Amor (Caren) on his back, who was comfortably "sleeping" on him. He didn't seem to mind that the Ruler was using him as a pillow.
Karna: "Why do you have Amor (Caren) on your back?" – he voiced the question everyone had.
Angra: "She climbed up on her own and fell asleep without saying anything," – he replied simply, as if it was no big deal. After all, it wasn't the worst thing that had happened.
Arjuna Alter: "And why haven't you taken her off?" – raising an eyebrow, he searched for the reason why the weakest Servant hadn't removed the Ruler from his back.
Angra: "She's comfortable, I didn't want to bother her. Besides, it's not like I care... though she could at least ask or say something, for once," – he replied, murmuring the last part, which was only heard by the white-haired woman who was pretending to sleep. She mentally noted what he said afterward.
Merlin: "Alright, let's get started then," – he announced as he turned on the machine, though he wasn't prepared for what would appear next.
Todos: ... – none of them said anything after witnessing what they just saw –
Merlín: – gives the machine a hard smack and changes the universe they were supposed to be watching –
[Image]
Gilgamesh: ... – looking green from what he just saw –
Proto Arthur: – blushing from what he was doing –
Super Orión: "Whoa... those guys get me," – pointing at both blondes' hands –
Cu Lancer: "That's taking the whole 'sword and sheath' thing to an even more literal level," – watching the archer and the swordsman –
Is it necessary to say what happened to the ripped bear and the dog?
Lady Avalon: sniff "My student makes me so proud," – wiping away a dramatic tear after seeing how close the blonde was to touching the white-haired woman's Nazca lines –
Shakespeare: "Does the boy have a thing for blondes?" – he asked, raising an eyebrow at the scene –
In response, all the Arturias looked at every version of Shirou with a gleam in their eyes.
EMIYA: "...I'm not going to say anything about that," – he stated, refusing to answer the question posed by the lyricist.
DEMIYA: "I literally feel nothing, for God's sake," – he excused himself, though it seemed more like he was dodging the question.
Senji: "I'm only interested in making swords, I don't have time to waste on love..." – he averted his gaze, noticing how every Castoria was watching him.
Angra: "What did she say?" – eating a bit as he watched the chaos unfold, while Amor (Caren) clung to him without letting go.
Gudako: "Actually," – everyone looked at her – "one of his passive skills is [Blonde-Hunter] at EX rank," – she added more fuel to the fire.
EMIYA/DEMIYA/Senji/Angra: ... – receiving the stares from ALL the Servants present –
Tonelico/Ereshkigal/Arturias: – turning bright red upon hearing that –
Merlín: "Yes... we should probably just continue," – wanting to see if there would be anything good in this chapter or not –
Her eyes settled on him as he entered. He had thought her smirk could not grow even more, but she looked maddeningly pleased with him, regardless of how he himself felt oblivious towards the response of shellshock from the frighteningly short match. They'd been here for hours already, with some of the "better matches" (In his opinion) having taken upwards of minutes.
Arjuna – ignoring the previous situation –: "What are the next competitions?" – he asked, wanting to change the subject from earlier.
Tristán: "If I remember correctly, the archery competition is next," – he wasn't lying about being interested in seeing the boy's skills with the bow.
Atalanta: "What's the longest shot you've ever made?" – the lioness asked, looking at the dark-skinned man, who seemed visibly uncomfortable with some of the stares. She was surprised to see Boudica sitting right next to the archer.
EMIYA: "4 kilometers," – he replied simply while watching the screen.
Heracles: "Grrrr..." – he growled, remembering the time he had been attacked from a long distance without knowing where the shot came from.
It was not that these men were to be found wanting, it was that he had been tempered in fires greater than them.
Angra: "You literally burned in hell when you were a kid," – he pointed out, rolling his eyes.
The archer couldn't say anything in response. It was, at the very least, a brutally true statement.
Atalanta: "...What?" – not only she, but several others who cared about children had a similar shocked expression.
Arturia: "The war that followed... ended with a tragic outcome, to say the least... painful. But it was the best possible scenario..." – she explained with slight pain, remembering that moment, which truly caused her great distress.
EMIYA: "It's something that, for once, I have to agree with the kid on. I hate remembering," – he stared distantly at the screen, despite his mind being in disarray. The fire from that day was something he still vividly remembered.
Even though many wanted answers, no one got them. Seeing the expressions on EMIYA, DEMIYA, Senji, and Angra, everyone decided to stop insisting, realizing they wouldn't get any answers from the archer.
The element of confusion with his fighting style, and his single-minded determination, they were just obstacles to be removed. In the least violent form, he could fathom at the time, hopefully.
"So you were a swordsman." Morgan's voice flitted into his consciousness, and her amused green eyes gave him pause in dismissing her without words.
"No." He settles for but doesn't elaborate. She seems to accept this and turns her gaze back towards the box where she sees her Sister's gaze firmly rapt upon her new tool.
Mordred: "By showing your abilities, you demonstrated how useful you could be," – she remarked, noticing how her mother was already thinking about using the boy as a tool.
Boudica: "Do you think something really bad will happen to him?" – she asked her companion, a bit of worry in her voice. Even if it was another version of the archer, it didn't stop her from being concerned for her friend.
EMIYA: "Death has been after me for a long time, and it still can't have me. The kid will be fine. He won't die unless someone kills him first," – he dismissed the redhead's concern, though Boudica couldn't help but develop a twitch in her eyebrow at his attitude – "...Ouch," – in retaliation, the blue-eyed woman was now pulling on his ear for his behavior.
Merlín: "It looks like a wife scolding her husband," – he thought, observing how the woman was quietly lecturing the dark-skinned man so as not to disturb the others.
Of course, the closeness between the two didn't sit well with several onlookers, especially considering the relationships others were having. DEMIYA, for his part, was seated next to Tonelico, who seemed quite nervous about what the screen might show. Angra, meanwhile, was eating popcorn, with Amor (Caren) now asleep beside him, using his arm as a pillow. Senji was seated next to Musashi, who was receiving glares of pure fury from the Castorias for being next to their blacksmith, especially as that "cow-titted" woman was sitting so close to Senji.
Do you like him, sister dearest? If so, I will make him mine. With pleasure, truly- he is just as much a match for any of the lovely men you hold court with. But such thoughts were best kept for later. This was business, what she would do later would be a pleasure.
The room fell into total silence after those words.
Fergus: "I told you... this was going to end in sex," – no one had wanted to believe him, but now he had every right to feel vindicated as they saw that, indeed, he had been correct. They were really going to do it.
Meanwhile, the Arturias on the other side...
Arturia: – the hilt of Excalibur seemed to be cracking from how hard she was gripping it –
Squirturia: – holding both her water gun and sword, ready to attack her sister –
Lanturia: – Rhongomyniad seemed to glow more intensely with every passing second –
Salter: – magic swirled around her, causing her hair and clothes to billow, a clear sign of her silent fury –
Maid Alter: – loading her Secace rifle, preparing to blow Morgan's head off –
Meanwhile, MHX, MHX Alter, and MHXX were gearing up to switch targets to a Morgan who evidently had a death wish.
Lily, on the other hand, tightly gripped the hilt of Caliburn while staring blankly at the screen. One thing was thinking about sharing him with her sister; another very different thing was her sister taking her future lover.
Arturias: "LIKE HELL WE'LL ALLOW IT!" – several shouted in full fury at what Morgan had just said on the screen.
Melusine: "...So does that mean we have a new king?" – she asked Morgan, who remained silent, processing what had just occurred, while a strange blush crept up her face.
Barghest would have said something to contradict her, but she couldn't bring herself to speak after what Melusine had mentioned earlier during their break.
'Melusine: "Don't you want to stand before him, kneel, while he praises you for your duty, and you carry out each one of his commands?"
The poor blonde couldn't handle the shame from such an indecent thought that had surfaced in her mind. Her face had once again turned an unprecedented shade of red, steam rising from her head. She, an honorable knight of the Round Table of the Fairies, was now having depraved fantasies about her very (highly) possible future king.
How low she had fallen as a Fairy Knight of Fairy Britain.
She would need to start taking Buddhism lessons with Sanzang to do something about those indecent thoughts that had corrupted her, all because of the Knight of NTR who was tainting her noble heart and mind.
The witch was not turned on by barbarism, but she recognized someone with such single-minded devotion to a cause-
And the kind of disgustingly vicious attitude they approached obstacles with. They were kindred spirits, even if "Shirou" did not yet know it. And, for Morgan, her body was just another weapon. One that she got more pleasure out of using than knives.
Arturia: "LIKE HELL I'LL LET YOU DARE TO STEAL MY QUEEN!" – she thought furiously, gripping her weapon tightly in anger alongside her other versions.
Merlín: "Not only does Lancelot want to steal the queen, but apparently her sister does too," – he was brutally beaten by every Arturia and by Fou for what the mage of flowers had just said.
Cu Alter: "Congratulations, you'll be her sword dildo," – do I even need to say what happened to him?
Julius Caesar: "He's going to die in the way every man has wished to die..." – he cried masculine tears at the "tragic" fate awaiting the redhead.
Many of the men shared the sentiment. He was truly going to meet the end that so many had longed for in their lives.
Meanwhile, several women just watched the men with sweatdrops at how they were acting. Cleopatra had to smack Julius Caesar to get him to stop, and several others followed suit, hitting the Servants they were closest to.
As for the poor Baobhan Sith during these last few dialogues? Simple. The poor thing was blushing both from rage and embarrassment at the thought of her perfect mother being defiled by that filthy human... and the worst part was that her true nature had made her imagine it in excruciating detail, leaving her feeling odd for a moment.
Men were simple creatures.
TODAS las mujeres: "Without a doubt, they are," – they said in perfect synchronization, earning offended glares from every male Servant.
Sieg: "...Jeanne?" – looking at the blonde Ruler, who could do nothing but avert her gaze.
Sigfried – looking at Kriemhild: "...Sumanai," – he apologized to his wife for it, but his tone was even sadder and more depressed than usual, which earned a slightly concerned look from the Berserker, while he simply looked away.
EMIYA: "...and then you ask me to help you," – he muttered to Boudica, who had nodded and agreed with what the others were saying.
The redhead, upon hearing the archer's murmur, simply smiled nervously as she scratched her cheek.
Meanwhile, in the distance, a frantic Melusine was trying to revive Baobhan Sith after the monologue her mother had given. The poor girl had been unable to withstand the mental image that her mind had conjured after what was said earlier. At the same time, Barghest was still lost in her thoughts, her face still flushed red, unable to shake off the overwhelming embarrassment.
And Morgan had not missed the looks he'd cast towards her sister. The question that entered her mind, however-
Is that gaze because she is like me, or because I am like her?
xxxxxxx
Arturia: "Those stares are meant for me, you damn witch..." – she muttered under her breath, trying to contain all of her fury after her sister's previous declaration of wanting to possess her Shirou.
The murmur was heard by everyone nearby, as well as those with heightened animal senses, who instinctively began to distance themselves from the King of Knights to avoid the brunt of her wrath.
Meanwhile, a newly recovered Baobhan Sith gripped the armrest of her seat tightly, seething with rage at the thought of her mother being compared to that pathetic excuse for a king of the filthy humans.
"My King-" Lancelot murmured, as the contest resumed down below, two men taking the field and risking life and limb to showcase themselves before King and Country. "That warrior-"
"I know, Lancelot." Her voice was soft and sure. Even as her eyes did not leave the stoic form that stood in the shadow behind her lounging sister. Her fingers tightened on the grip of Excalibur while the other wore into the wood of her seat. Politics were ugly, and it said a lot that Morgan- whom had only recommended Agravain to her seats- would put her name behind such a warrior and- rather than use her sinuous and controlling words- have him participate in a contest like this in order to make others respect and extol his talent.
And he was talented. Worse than that, there was something deftly familiar about the way he'd come at his opponent. It reminded her of summers in her youth, spent learning to fight and efficiently protect herself and others with the sword.
EMIYA: "...I'd rather not remember that, thanks," – recalling one of his training sessions with Lily, which hadn't ended very well.
Gudako: "Oh right... Lily shot you in the crotch," – many of the men, if not all of them, looked at the poor red-clad archer with immense sympathy, mourning the tragic fate of the archer's family jewels.
Irisviel: "MY GRANDCHILDREN!" – she screamed internally, horrified that her friend had almost left her without future grandchildren.
Lily, for her part, blushed in embarrassment at what she had done on that occasion, while several versions of Arturia were equally horrified.
Nero: "No! The future children of Rome!" – she cried out in alarm, rushing over to her friend. In a flash, she reached out and touched the "sword bone."
Many women: ... – staring in disbelief at how the Roman Empress had just gone and touched his sword bone without hesitation.
Boudica: ... – unsure whether to be furious because Nero was close to EMIYA or because of what Nero was doing.
Arturias: ... – none of them could process how someone with their face was stealing their "queen."
Melusine: "...Damn, she beat me to it," – receiving an intense glare from Morgan – "I mean, she beat you to it, Your Majesty," – she quickly corrected herself, no longer under Morgan's intense scrutiny – "Phew, almost messed up big time," – she thought, sweating slightly as she realized she narrowly escaped a major disaster.
Rin's: – none could believe what had just happened –
Sakura's: – on the verge of committing a hate crime –
Angra: "Fiuu... that didn't take long," – watching the unfolding spectacle while munching on popcorn.
Men: ...
All the men present simply gave a military salute in honor of the threat posed to the jewels of an innocent soul, condemned to a fate crueler than being a Counter Guardian.
EMIYA: – pale as a ghost, feeling the Roman Empress holding his jewels and squeezing with just enough force to cause a slight discomfort –
DEMIYA/Senji: – silently praying for the poor idiot who faced such a tragic fate if he made a wrong move –
Merlín: "Satan, please," – he pleaded to the Master, who sighed.
Three Command Seals later…
To Boudica's annoyance, Nero was now peacefully sitting on EMIYA's lap while the archer sat there, expressionless at what the Roman Empress was doing.
EMIYA: "...Remind me why you're sitting on my lap?" – he asked, still not understanding why.
Nero: "So you can later feel what it's like to impregnate Rome," – she said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, leaving the archer with an even more blank expression, while Boudica ground her teeth in anger at the blonde's words.
EMIYA: "...Whatever," – he muttered. He wasn't sure why he should even be surprised by this anymore. Strange things like this happened frequently in Chaldea.
Knowing that the Roman Empress was a trigger for the wrath of the Queen of Victory, EMIYA placed a hand on Boudica's head, gently petting her to calm her down. He already had experience soothing lions; this wasn't anything new for him.
Seeing this, the Empress took the archer's free hand and placed it on her own head, wanting to be pampered as well.
With no other options, the archer sighed once again, giving in to the Empress's whim. Otherwise, she wouldn't leave him alone after this.
It was a very bastardized version of her own sword style, in a way. But in the same breath, it was different. The focus on redirection and the minimum of movement, the hard accelerations that was normally only viable because of her ability to focus her magical energy into a burst-
But there had been none. In the span of a few seconds, he had dismantled his foe without exposing anything more than that he was a fair swordsman. That two-sword fighting style was not recognizable in the least, the only thing that seemed similar was the Saxons of old who would be like monsters in human flesh-
But, again, there was none. Only cold, calculating indifference as he'd first wounded the opponent's neck- only the nobleman's chainmail to keep him from a fatal blow, then he'd predicted the bash with the shield as if he'd seen into the very future with how he'd reacted, stepping into it against his foe when most would have stepped to the side or away and given the man the time to breath he had been searching for. He'd capitalized on an unaware and unsteady foe to take out his knee and shunt out the last desperate defense.
Scáthach: "He aims to immobilize, not kill. Isn't that right?" – she asked, glancing at the archer, who nodded in agreement with the Celtic queen's words.
Arturia: "Shirou has never been comfortable taking a life. He detests it more than anything, which is why he always tried to fight without involving anyone, so they wouldn't get hurt," – she recalled how the redhead had often done that just to protect anyone he could.
Robin Hood: "...That's a little, well, pretty damn stupid, honestly," – he muttered while scratching the back of his head. That kid really seemed to have a death wish.
EMIYA: "Sure, blame me for having survivor's guilt and trying to fulfill my role as a 'sword' for others," – he thought, rolling his eyes. He wouldn't deny that he had been a complete idiot and fool in his youth, but at least he had his reasons for being that way.
Meanwhile, in his lap, Nero was practically melting from the caresses EMIYA was giving her. She was now engaged in a very serious struggle, trying her best to get comfortable, which resulted in her "Roman might" shifting on the "sword bone," testing EMIYA's willpower.
And, with a flourish that reminded her of other strong warriors, he had simply planted his blade against his foe's neck and stolen a yield.
For common people to see swordsmanship like that was galling- and even she was unnerved by the sheer . . . wrongness of seeing a man taken apart like a chair by a carpenter.
Fergus: "So, do you want the kid to dominate you or what?" – he asked the variants of the King of Knights.
Arturia/Salter: "NO!" / "YES!" – both immediately turned to glare at each other after disagreeing, which only made more people believe Salter over Arturia. The blonde was sporting a deep blush, acting nervously, her eyes misty, and breathing a bit fast. She had imagined the scene Fergus described, with her sheath being dominated.
It didn't help that some of her other variants were in a similar state... even Lily had misty eyes for some strange reason, along with squeezing her thighs together.
DEMIYA, for his part, just sighed, trying to stifle a yawn as sleepiness started creeping in.
Angra: "Looks like you've got your work cut out for you later," – he remarked with an amused grin, watching how the archer would have to calm the "Lion" down later.
DEMIYA: "Shut up, nun victim," – the embodiment of all the world's evils chuckled at the gunslinger's comment.
Angra: "At least I'm not like you, the megasida carrier," – the gunslinger had no retort to that, opting to stay silent.
Many couldn't help but laugh, remembering exactly who Angra was referring to—the least holy nun in all worlds.
She could tell Lancelot was enthused, too. Which only made it all the more worse. Lancelot had been taking on greater and greater challenges lately, wanting nothing more than to absolve himself of the guilt he felt for sleeping with the Queen- which Artoria forgave him without even words. Not that it seemed to work.
Her eyes finally tore away, settling on Guinevere for a moment before returning to the melee below. She did not miss how her sister's eyes had turned towards her, and narrowed in amusement.
xxxxx
Bedivere, Tristán, and Percival directed their gaze to the Berserker version of the Knight of the Lake, who, despite being silent and surrounded by his usual mist, was clearly hopeful—hopeful to atone for the sin he had been condemned for.
After clearing their minds, if only slightly, of those impure thoughts, none of the Arturias could avoid a small shiver at the look Morgan was giving them on the screen. Something deep within them told them that something was going to happen soon, something they wouldn't like.
Lalter: "You were... so right," – she thought, with a strange sense of regret that began to overwhelm her. Her usually aggressive demeanor softened as memories flooded her mind, memories of a past she regretted not having achieved.
It had taken half the day for the preliminary duels to end, and the number of contestants had, likely as the nobles who proposed the tournament had hoped, dwindled down within a mere few dozen. Shirou felt a deep relief from knowing he wouldn't have to fight again as they changed venues and moved onto archery.
For a moment, he felt like fate was playing with him. Though, he couldn't deny that a more indirect competition was one he favored rather than the risk of fighting someone he would have to kill.
He never even contemplated his own wounds or death. Shirou had never learned to value himself that much.
Proto Cu: "Did you ever?" – he asked, raising an eyebrow at what the screen had revealed.
Do I even need to say what happened next?
EMIYA: "I did... but far too late, honestly," – he muttered, sitting back down as he dissolved his bow into particles of magic, while the Roman Empress once again settled herself in his lap.
Boudica: "Don't blame yourself, EMIYA... It's not something you can avoid so easily. Fate has a way of catching up," – she gently stroked his shoulder with care and subtle affection, wanting to offer her support.
Nero: "UMU. You have no reason to feel that way, Praetor. Fate is not something easily avoided. No matter how much one tries, we end up caught in situations that shape us," – as ancient heroes, both knew exactly what they were talking about. And not just them—everyone in the room understood. For some, no matter what they achieved in life, they were destined to fight until their hearts could fight no more.
EMIYA – sighing, a bit tired: "I know. It's just... not something pleasant to remember, so I try to avoid bringing it up," – he said with a faint smile, looking at both women.
Both Boudica and Nero understood him, so they weren't going to force him to talk about his past if he didn't want to. After all, they knew well, along with many other Servants, what it meant to be a Counter Guardian.
His worries had increased, however, with his proximity to Morgan. "Stay near me, until you are called." She had instructed, and he had obeyed out of deference to the pleased look the woman had on her face. A happy Morgan was one whom didn't think things would go wrong.
Mordred: "For having so little time, he reads her well," – she murmured, watching as her mother seemed "happy" without being corrected.
Bedivere: "Most likely, Sir Mordred, it's because he has analyzed some of our king's belongings in depth, and as he had revealed before, he has investigated her life. Therefore, he must have learned everything possible about the enemies and actions of our king," – he responded to the blonde while trying to figure out what Morgan was aiming to do with all this, aside from destroying her majesty's reign.
EMIYA: "Who knows, with a familiar face, the idiot will follow her orders. He'll probably also take advantage of being sent to Camelot and get closer to Arturia to accomplish his goal," – he remarked while watching the screen closely, unaware that he was hugging Nero as he leaned back in his seat for more comfort.
Angra: "You also can't deny that he follows her orders because she's hot," – he commented, and no one could argue against it. On the screen, it was almost like seeing a more mature Arturia, one who embraced her femininity more fully, although this was also reflected in the Lancer versions.
Meanwhile, Alter EMIYA, who was barely managing to stay awake, finally succumbed to his exhaustion. The poor man fell asleep in his seat, letting his head rest on Tonelico, who sat beside him.
The poor Fairy of Paradise couldn't help but blush deeply when she felt the gunslinger resting on her. A rosy hue spread across her face, and, unconsciously, a smile accompanied her blush as she melted into the warm touch of the gunslinger, feeling a comforting sensation flood her heart.
She was right, but Shirou was playing the long game.
In blocks of ten, the contestants were to shoot their farthest target, and their scores would be tallied by accuracy and range. It was a western style contest, but Shirou couldn't help but feel- as an Eastern practitioner- that it was a bit disgraceful to focus on such a thing.
"You look perturbed." Even through his helmet? His gaze moved unto Morgan through his visor.
Arthur: "She's always been good at reading people," – he muttered softly, watching as his sister figured out the redhead's mood without even seeing his face.
Mordred: "True," – she growled quietly, recalling how easy it was for her mother to always read her with ease. She could never hide anything from Morgan, who always figured her out.
Salter: "This is... disturbing," – she muttered, watching how her own sheath was now being read so easily by her "bitch" of a sister.
Growl!
Salter: "DEMIYA, I want food," – she demanded of the gunslinger, but got no response, neither verbal nor in action – "DEM—" – just as she was about to speak again, she fell silent upon seeing that the gunslinger was fast asleep, his head resting on Tonelico, who had a smile on her face and a blush.
Lady Avalon: "...I'll handle this," – she said, sending Salter away.
Lady Avalon: "EXCALIBUR MORGAN!"
A distant shout echoed, followed by a loud explosion and a tremor.
Da Vinci: "...You realize you're going to have to pay for that, Merlin," – she said, looking at the prankster mage, who nodded.
Merlín: "Don't worry, I've got it covered," – he said, handing over the necessary funds for the repairs, conveniently charging it to the card of some guy he found lying around. If he recalled correctly, the name was something like Oscar or something.
Da Vinci checked her account, seeing the money had been transferred to cover the repairs, and sighed in mild exasperation before refocusing on what they were watching.
Meanwhile, Lady Avalon returned Salter to her place, where she silently growled in frustration as she continued to see DEMIYA and Tonelico snuggled up, undisturbed by even that massive explosion. The gunslinger remained sound asleep.
Boudica: "Why is he sleeping?" – she asked, puzzled, as there hadn't been much activity that would cause him to be so tired.
EMIYA: "He's bored. He doesn't find any of this interesting," – he replied, knowing his Alter version well enough to understand why he had fallen asleep.
"It's nothing." He responded, not wanting to fill the Witch's ears with such a childish complaint. Her smirk leveled out a bit into a thin line.
"This is beneath you?" She queried, and he couldn't help but feel his shoulders shake with a chuckle.
Rather than answer her honestly, he simply said, "Watch."
And, despite his expectation that she would grow furious with him, she simply nodded and turned her gaze back unto the current bowmen. There were a few worthy ones in the lot, but a good portion of them had only the talent to hit within thirty yards. And bullseyes were in short supply there. His eyes narrowed at one or two whom put bullseyes into their targets handily at fifty yards. It seemed there were strong contenders here after all.
EMIYA: "...Only 30 meters?" – he crossed his arms, stopping his pampering of the two royal women.
Tristan: "...Is there a problem?" – for some reason, he felt like something bad was about to happen.
EMIYA: "In my youth, I participated in archery tournaments. I was the standout member, and without me, they lost, but that's beside the point. The standard distance for the shots we were given in normal competitions is 60 meters. There are more shots to take, but we aren't usually told the exact distances. Plus, the steps required for a correct shot in kyudo involve factors that are often overlooked in the West," – he explained, his words catching Shirou's attention, who mentally took note of what was said. It seemed that oriental practices had certain nuances that were often missed in the West.
Tristan: ... – contemplating whether to challenge EMIYA to a brief competition, though something told him that very soon, things were going to get... ugly for him.
For a moment, he forgot himself and let his blood boil. Competition was healthy, he had to remember. And letting that strong feeling wash through him before he was called would make it easier to push it all out of him.
His line was called.
xxxxxxxx
"Tristan would have been depressed by this." Artoria murmured, feeling lost. Behind her, Lancelot simply shook his head.
Mordred: "Where were you?" – she asked curiously, noting that she hadn't seen him at any point.
Tristan: "Either on a mission or patrolling the kingdom... any option is possible," – he responded, not quite remembering what he was doing at the time.
Bedivere: "...Wasn't that the time you challenged the king?" – trying to jog his memory of that moment.
The Knight of Sorrow didn't respond to that, his expression contemplative. It was possible, but he wasn't entirely sure if that was the case. Truthfully, he hoped it wasn't.
"Next up to the line-"
"My King." The Knight alerted, his eyes settled on an armor clad figure as he took to the field.
The blonde woman's eyes followed Lancelot's trail, and her brow furrowed.
xxxxxxxx
The English longbow was not his tool of choice, so for the first time he'd actually had to sneakily produce a suitable tool. Thankfully, it was as simple as Projecting his mental image of a bow. He took little mind of the fact that it felt so much easier or less stressful than it did once- merely attributing it to the presence of more mana in the air than when he'd initially learned.
Tristán: "...You changed your bow?" – more of a statement than a question, as he watched the young man projecting his usual bow.
EMIYA: "I'm Japanese. Kyudo bows are what I'm used to. Western bows, well, they're not exactly my favorites, so it's expected I'd switch for this," – he replied, projecting his familiar dark bow, the one he often used for long-distance stealth attacks during his missions.
A step away from prying eyes, and to the line he went. The only difference now was that one gauntlet had been pried away and his visor had been lifted in favor of his eyesight and ability to draw the bow. The glove for holding the bow would be fine- the bow was made of pure magical power so it would not require repair after its use anyway.
The targets were set up at a minimum of thirty yards, a fair and agreeable distance for anyone worth their salt with a bow, even with the English bow that could shoot up to one hundred and eighty meters in the hands of a veteran.
He was not a veteran. He was Emiya Shirou, whom had missed only one time since he'd finished his training- and that had been in an effort to see what it was -like- to miss.
As he stood at the firing line, he gestured forward the handlers for his target, "Take my target to the edge of the field." For a moment, the two men had looked at him incredulously, but he had simply waved them off. Unaware of the sudden quiet- including the stopping of arrows hitting targets- he watched as the two men carried it to the very edge of the tournament ground.
The same silence spread across many of the Archers... those who actually used a bow.
Tristán: ... – this time, he had opened his eyes to watch closely. He needed to understand how well the kid handled his bow.
Robin Hood: "Tch, show-off," – he clicked his tongue in annoyance, watching the arrogance of the kid on the screen.
Euryale: ... – silently staring at the screen, she had stopped teasing the Medusas to focus on this, her furrowed brow clearly expressing her irritation.
Super Orion: "Ooh, this is gonna get interesting," – Artemis had no idea how, but her beloved had somehow pulled out a gigantic bucket of popcorn and was eagerly munching away, excited for what was about to unfold.
Even Baobhan Sith was irritated by the display. Sharing part of Tristán's Saint Graph came with certain side effects, and his mood seemed to be affecting her as well.
A little over the length of an American football field, around one-hundred-twenty yards. He could have hit from further, but then it would have been as if he was striking the horizon itself.
There were very few men capable of such feats, and many would question such an ability on his behalf. Shirou was going to win, not make himself seem invincible.
xxxx
Arturia: "Doesn't seem like it, take a look," – she muttered, glaring at EMIYA, then shifting her angry gaze toward Nero for still sitting on her archer. That was her spot, not this imposter's.
For some reason, Gilgamesh felt like someone was stealing one of his catchphrases. Something told him he needed to patent it, or it would be stolen worse than that faker stole his weapons by imitating them.
Nero, on the other hand, was simply melting even more under EMIYA's gentle caresses. This caused her to shift her "Roman Empire" just enough that EMIYA felt a certain stimulation in the "sword bone," testing every ounce of his willpower to avoid any unfortunate incidents... at least, for him.
Meanwhile, he also tried his best to remain unnoticed by the two women nearby, desperately hoping they wouldn't get the wrong idea about him after this awkward situation.
"That man is insane," Guinevere muttered, and Artoria could only agree, "Only Sir Tristan could hit a shot like that- or someone he'd trained, at least!"
Lancelot, though, had narrowed his eyes. The more he watched this man in blackened armor, the more he worried about his King.
xxxxxxxxx
Bedivere: "He shows abilities surpassing every soldier under the king's command, yet he remains beneath the Round Table. Be cautious about the close relationship he's displayed with Lady Morgan," – he murmured, gripping the armrest of his seat slightly. He truly hoped that Shirou could do something to save his king from herself.
Even if it meant damaging the kingdom or his king's reign, he didn't care. All Bedivere wanted was for his king to feel the emotions she had denied for years. He just wanted his king to be happy, far away from Camelot, where she might truly find her own happiness.
Percival: "Will he be able to reach the Round Table?" – he wondered aloud, concern in his voice. He didn't want to harm his king's consort if they ended up as enemies in some conflict. He simply wished they could be together, far from danger, happy, just as they both longed to be.
Gil Caster had overheard their words. Frankly, even though his clairvoyance showed him clearly, he still found it hard to believe. He couldn't fully comprehend that such a thing was truly possible. This was something he had to witness with his own eyes to confirm if his visions were not deceiving him.
Gil Caster: "Hmph, prove why you are one of us... Emiya Shirou..." – he whispered quietly, crossing his arms as he patiently watched the screen, waiting to see if what his clairvoyance had shown him would indeed come to pass.
Breathe. He steadied his stance and planted his feet. His bow-hand set the target, and his eyes did not see the world- only the bullseye.
The breath stayed in his chest, comforting and testing him as he raised the bow up high as if to salute the heavens with it. His fingers wrapped the fletching of the arrow and he began to draw back with strength honed through countless years of training and the Holy Grail War.
He was the bow. He was the arrow. The target is his destination, the bullseye his very being. For a moment, Emiya, Shirou was the Void. He was emptiness. There was no thought, no movement, just him as the arrow.
Musashi: "Wait, what!? The Void!? Did he reach it!?" – she exclaimed, incredulous at the sight of the kid having achieved what hundreds, if not thousands, of swordsmen had dreamed of attaining, herself included—the Void.
Sasaki: "No, it must be something else... I doubt it's the same Void we aspire to, am I wrong?" – he asked, looking toward EMIYA, who nodded in agreement with the swordsman's assessment. It was indeed something completely different (or so he thought).
EMIYA: "I'm not entirely sure about the Void that swordsmen seek, but I believe it's quite different from what we're talking about here. What he's referring to is a state archers achieve during kyudo practice. Mushin is the state where the archer thinks of nothing but the arrow and pours all their emotion and heart into it. Their entire focus is on the target, and their spirit is reset. Kyudo isn't just a physical practice; it's also spiritual, where the archer connects with the essence of their shot, much like spiritual practices in various religions," – he explained, recalling the knowledge he had gained during his time in the kyudo club at school, as well as how he applied it throughout his life—not only as a hero of justice but also as a Counter Guardian. It had proven invaluable in the moments when he had to act.
Tristán: "Putting your heart and emotion into the arrow, huh?" – a small smile appeared on his lips. A friendly match against the red-clad archer would certainly be interesting. It seemed he could learn a thing or two from the Eastern archer.
And then it let loose along with his breath. With finality, the arrow spun and cleared the air like a bullet before it split the target's painted middle and declared victory without any doubt.
Shirou let himself flood back into his body. The sensation of tension, of pride, and purpose returned as he let his eyes close, and finally lowered the bow now that destiny had been met.
xxxxxxxxxxxx
Tristán: "A simply perfect shot," – he muttered, fully convinced now that he wanted to have a friendly archery match with the red-clad archer as soon as possible. He was genuinely curious to see the Eastern practices that the white-haired man had been trained in during his youth.
Euryale: "Tsk," – she clicked her tongue in annoyance, watching as the kid had indeed hit a perfect shot on the target.
Asterius, knowing how irritated she could get, gently patted the small loli with his massive hand, hoping to help her forget what had just happened.
Robin Hood: "Tsk, well done, kid..." – he muttered, clicking his tongue in frustration, but acknowledging that the boy had undeniably good skill with the bow.
Super Orion: "Not bad, kid. Now you just need to shoot a target in space," – he said with a grin. EMIYA couldn't help but sweat nervously at the comment, knowing full well he didn't have a bow comparable to Orion's, nor the sheer strength and endurance to fire an arrow into space.
Morgan, whom had expected the trouncing in the duel considering she'd expected some kind of fae magic to protect the boy, could not say the same when she saw what had just been done. Her breathing hitched, and in the space of that arrow leaving the bow and striking the target, her heart skipped a beat.
The alarms in the minds of all the Arturias blared loudly. They didn't like this situation at all—not one bit.
Nero: "UMU, nothing like a good feast for the eyes," – she approved, watching with delight as Morgan admired the physique of the young archer.
Boudica: "...I don't like where this is going," – she muttered, already feeling uneasy. It had been pointed out too many times that the boy was infatuated with the beauty of the blonde, and now the woman seemed to be getting... excited by watching the boy in action.
Morgan, for her part, couldn't even process that this version of herself was acting that way in response to the events on the screen. What's next? Becoming a good mother to Mordred?
Baobhan Sith, for some inexplicable reason, sensed something was coming—something that was going to annoy her even more than anything she had seen so far.
Angra: "Wow, you're turning her on faster than you've done with other women before," – he remarked, munching on his popcorn, impressed by how quickly the queen was becoming excited.
He was a monster in human flesh, he had to be. She knew the capabilities of men like Sir Tristan, who had left her sister's employ, and even great heroes of legend. But she also recognized that they could have put that target further away still, even had it been moving . . . and he likely still would have hit it perfectly.
Cu Caster: "All that's missing is for him to have a homing weapon," – he muttered. The Archer remained silent alongside his other versions, while Alter was still fast asleep – "...go to hell," – he grumbled. Was that even necessary?
EMIYA: "...Mach 10, that's all I'm saying," – he wasn't about to reveal his homing attack yet. He'd keep that in his back pocket for now, only disclosing how fast it could go.
Arturia: "If I recall correctly... Hrunting, the Hound of the Crimson Plains," – she thought, remembering the weapon from which she couldn't escape, a lethal tool in the hands of Archer, perfectly suited for him due to its near impossibility to evade.
Melusine: "I admit the boy certainly has skill," – she acknowledged, seeing that her queen believed he could even hit a target in motion.
Mounted archery was notoriously difficult, one of the most challenging forms of the art. Seeing her queen affirming such a thing about him proved that the boy had unparalleled talent in archery. The dragon loli wondered just how many other qualities this young man possessed.
Baobhan Sith: "Tsk, that's not so impressive, Mother. I don't understand what you see in such an insignificant human," – she thought, seething with anger as she watched her mother give so much credit to that filthy human. She was 100% certain that she could do the same thing and even better. After all, she was the daughter of the Queen of the Fairies—there was nothing she couldn't do.
Rather than fill her with admiration, it made her recognize the extent of the man whom she had helped to pull through into a time he did not belong to. Morgan was not foolish- only vengeful and a true Witch. She did not know why he had gone to such lengths to come here, but she knew, right then, that she was going to need him by her side.
And so she began to scheme anew, where she had been lounging in the view-box now sat up straight with her mind in a whirl.
xxxxxx
Mordred: "Fuck... now you've got a crazy one after you," – she muttered, watching as her mother grew increasingly excited about getting a new pawn in her hands.
EMIYA: "...Where's Alaya?" – he asked, looking around for that dreaded blue sphere with rings.
There was only one maniac he truly despised, and it was that intense witch who cursed him with every fiber of his being.
DEMIYA: "What?!" – both Alaya and DEMIYA jolted awake, frantically scanning the room, fearing she might be sending him on another mission.
Tonelico made a small pout when she felt the gunslinger lift his head off hers, disappointed. Meanwhile, DEMIYA ignored everything that had just happened, focused on finding Alaya in case she needed him for a mission. After all, he was just a machine—he followed orders without complaint.
DEMIYA: "Where's Alaya?" – he asked his normal counterpart.
EMIYA: "Idiot. She's not here, it was just an example," – he replied, a bead of sweat forming on his temple.
DEMIYA simply scoffed at that, crossing his arms.
DEMIYA: "I was having the best sleep, and they woke me up..." – he sighed, trying to return to sleep, this time sitting upright in his seat. This caused the blonde fairy to feel a bit of annoyance, and her pout deepened.
Angra: "Bet he was dreaming about nuns, that's why he slept so well," – he teased, earning himself another bullet in the shoulder – "Totally worth it!" – he yelled, laughing as Amor (Caren) began healing him.
DEMIYA: "Strangely enough, I was dreaming about fairies, not nuns," – he corrected, while Andersen glanced at Kiara, who simply looked away, pretending not to notice the insinuation.
Tonelico, on the other hand, pulled her hat down to cover her face, trying to hide the deep blush. He dreamed about fairies. She was a fairy. He had been resting on her head. Did that mean she somehow caused his dream?
DEMIYA: "By the way, who smells like flowers? My nose keeps picking up that scent," – now the Fairy of Paradise was even more embarrassed. Habetrot had often mentioned her distinct floral and watery scent that set her apart. She couldn't understand why it suddenly made her so nervous when it had never bothered her before.
No one answered the gunslinger's question, so he just let it go, trying once again to fall asleep. This was all getting very boring for him.
Nearby, another pair of eyes narrowed further, while the King and Queen stared and were dumbstruck in such an order. Contestants were demoralized, and the crowds began to whisper and worry. Lancelot's ears were not the finest, but even he could catch smatterings of conversation.
This would not be able to stand.
xxxxxxx
Tesla: "Fell faster than Rome," – he remarked, observing how the public morale of the soldiers had plummeted, now in worse shape than the Berlin Wall or the fall of Rome.
None of the Roman Servants appreciated that comment, all of them glaring daggers at the Son of Lightning.
Everyone except Nero, who was blissfully melting under the caresses EMIYA was giving her, completely disconnected from the world. She was now fully tamed, eyes closed, enjoying the gentle touch of the archer as he stroked her head and chin.
However, the other versions of Nero weren't as relaxed. They were all pointing their weapons directly at the oblivious scientist, who seemed completely unaware of the imminent danger surrounding him.
When Shirou returned to the side of Morgan, having dismissed his projected bow, he expected another smirk and more words, either of a taunting fashion or elsewise. Instead, she had been wholly silent and simply studied him for a moment before returning her gaze to the field- or rather, beyond her spot to where the Royal Family sat.
I had put so much into Mordred. She thought, realizing immediately how she'd already started brooding, I thought I'd have to let this little display go on without my interference, but now it seems as if I have been kindly handed a hammer for the glass. Brushing her blonde hair with a set of fingers while the other stroked across the arm of her chair, the Witch contemplated his words to her.
Mordred: "Like I'd ever want to help a damn witch like her again," – she growled in frustration, her anger boiling over as she glared at her mother on the screen. Gareth was trying her best to calm her "sister" down before anything got destroyed.
Meanwhile, several of the Arturias were gripping their weapons with pure fury, watching as their elder sister was now planning to use their beloved Shirou as a tool against them. Seeing how Morgan viewed him as a more useful pawn than Mordred only made their anger rise further.
Let him prove himself, indeed. Now I have no choice. He is . . . irreplaceable in this moment. As loathe as she was to think that she could only admit that his display of dominance over the competition was . . .
Disturbingly alluring. So much so that she realized she had begun to play with her hair, and promptly stopped.
Shirou, not privy to her musings, simply got comfortable in the shade of her box and lamented how damn -hot- it was in all this armor under the heat of the sun.
The screen went dark.
Everyone: ... – no one said anything after what they had just witnessed.
Tezcatlipoca: "...They're going to screw," – the only words uttered by the Grand Assassin, promptly echoed by everyone else.
Super Orion: "And worse than rabbits in spring," – he added, earning himself a hit from Artemis for the comment, before glancing over at the Arturias, who didn't look happy at all.
Angra: "You worked fast," – he said, looking at EMIYA, who still couldn't believe what had just happened.
Merlín: "It's best to head outside. The next one will be the last of the day," – he mentioned, noticing that the room was about to fall apart under the tension.
Everyone left the room without exception... except for DEMIYA, who was still sound asleep in his seat. Tonelico watched this with a bead of sweat on her forehead, unsure of what to do.