Isaac Aravilar was shocked.
Xiao Jing had just revealed to him that her intention was to destroy the Holy Grail.
Isaac's goal was to use that powerful source of magical energy to achieve his dream, he had no intention of letting that magus from the Spiral Manor destroy it.
However...
"You said that Lord Gaiuslink and Lady Trambelio have allied," he began after almost three minutes of absolute silence, "while Lady Animusphere may have a supporter. And you're looking for someone who can help you destroy the Holy Grail... and you chose me?"
She nodded.
"Hmm..."
Isaac wasn't entirely convinced of her sincerity. From the conversation they had had up to that point, he had the impression that she was a very meticulous, cautious and above all well-informed person. How could such an individual not know about his goal? How could a girl like her not know that he wanted the Holy Grail?
He was very good at reading people's faces, but hers was as impenetrable as a wall. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't see Xiao Jing's true intentions. This irritated him, but also made him curious.
"Are you afraid of allying with me?" she asked calmly.
He shook his head a little. "I don't know you, but I bet that behind your boldness lies a powerful magus. It's just that... I have a lot of doubts about your... um... sincerity."
"How can I prove to you that you can trust me, then?"
"I'll never trust you," he replied coldly. "I don't trust anyone, that's how I survived."
"So you don't even trust your Servant?"
"That's not what I said—"
"Then what you're saying doesn't make sense. If you can trust your Servant, who's virtually a stranger and might betray you for a better Master, you can also trust a foreign magus who, at least from your perspective, might be an equal or lesser threat than said Servant."
Strong or weak, that magus certainly stunned Isaac with her rhetorical skill. He had no idea how to answer her... those quick and sharp words had disarmed him.
"So?" she asked, expecting a definitive answer from him.
He was still unsure.
In the meantime, the two Servants, seated about three meters from each other, were waiting in silence for the end of the Masters' interview. Caster was sitting comfortably on a chair reading a text of Chinese philosophy, Archer was sitting cross-legged on the table waiting anxiously for the moment to leave that place. The two Servants' gazes met for only a few moments and then they both looked away.
Archer would've liked so much to kill that old man and Caster would've liked to eliminate that demonic beast.
Neither of them said a word.
Archer, tired of waiting, left the table and approached, at a slow pace, the room where the two Masters were. Caster closed the book, dropped it on the table, crossed his legs, pulled his back, and watched the girl's actions. She, feeling his eyes, stopped and with her look warned him not to hinder her. He grimaced and ran his fingers through his long white beard. She changed direction and moved a little closer to him, with a challenging look. He rose from his chair and did the same.
They were ready.
At that moment a particular energy in the air caught the attention of both of them. It came from outside.
The two were sensing about six low-ranking Servants outside the place, which made no sense. They exchanged a questioning look; one was suspicious of the other. The door suddenly flew open. Six men in jackets, pants and military boots and with their faces covered by balaclavas, entered the place. They were dressed in black from head to toe and all clutched the same two weapons: a modest-sized crossbow and an axe. They were identical to each other. They were all wet from the rain and, closing the door behind them, they approached the two Servants a little, then stopped.
Caster smiled, "What an unexpected surprise, I guess you're not here for lunch, am I right?"
None of them answered.
Archer glanced out the window. "Three more are coming."
"Nine in total, then. Good, that means it'll be more fun."
Caster snapped his fingers and at that moment, from various rooms, human-sized puppets, dressed in yellow robes and turbans, emerged. In an instant, Caster surrounded himself with ten bodyguards under his control.
"I'm a magnanimous man. I can show mercy, even to an intruder. So, I ask whoever is commanding you to abandon this foolish attack. Otherwise, the consequences," he adjusted his glasses, "could be unpleasant."
Archer noticed that the three black men she had seen had not yet entered. She suspected that they were planning something terrible, and so, patting the old man on the shoulder, she headed for the exit.
"Are you really going to leave?" he asked, his eyes narrowing.
She looked at him, his puppets, and the six enemies. She shrugged. "This doesn't seem like a difficult battle. You'll be fine, old man. If you should've any difficulty, scream in pain. I'll come to help you."
When he saw that the men in black were letting the Servant out, Caster realized that he was their target. This made him feel happy. "All right! All right!" he exclaimed. "Once again I'm the target of those in power! Perfect! Excellent!"
The enemies raised their six crossbows and in unison shot their arrows at Caster, the puppets used their steel bodies to block the projectiles and, brandishing their spears and swords, attacked the invaders without any hesitation. The men in black, with their axes, had no fear of their numerical inferiority and threw themselves into battle. In an instant that large room of the restaurant became a battlefield: tables were overturned or destroyed by blades; metallic sounds filled the room and with them the noises of heavy footsteps; the invaders in black killed and were killed. Caster was in the center. Still. Surrounded by the frenzy of that battle, he remained with his hands behind his back awaiting the victory of his puppet army.
When only two enemies remained, there were still three puppets standing. The two men in black, cooperating, managed to emerge victorious from that battle—even though one of them was dead. Caster, alone, found himself face to face with the last survivor and did nothing but wait for his attack. The masked enemy attacked with speed. He aimed his axe at the old man's throat. With a single move, Caster took out a yellow Taoist talisman from his jacket sleeve and cast an electric spell so powerful that it completely disintegrated the enemy.
The old man approached the corpses and inspected them. They were puppets similar to his own, but much more advanced. He concluded that only a high-ranking Servant would be capable of commanding such familiars.
"Caster, is it over?" Xiao Jing asked, exiting the room with Isaac.
"I'm sorry, fūrén," he bowed, "I'm afraid there are more outside this building. Archer has left to deal with them, while I... well... it's quite obvious."
She leaned in to look at the corpses of the black invaders. "Who are these people?"
"Puppets similar to mine, but of better workmanship. I don't know who sent them, but they're certainly a formidable opponent if they have such pawns at their disposal. I recommend that we abandon this place temporarily—"
"Or you can strengthen its defenses," she interrupted.
"If that's what you want, I'll do it. However, I doubt it will work. Their strength, while not significantly superior to ours, is certainly impressive."
"That's good," Xiao Jing said, looking at the bodies at her feet. "But does the enemy know? We can use that to our advantage..." she added, pondering.
"What do you have in mind, fūrén?"
"Tie Silk Blossoms to the Dead Tree," she replied. "'Through the use of artifice and disguise make something of no value appear valuable; of no threat appear dangerous; of no use, useful'," she explained, quoting from a military strategy text she remembered by heart. "We need to make the enemy believe we've won a landslide. Fix the place, put it back in order, and..." she took the head of one of the enemies, "use them to send a loud and clear message to whoever ordered this attack. We need to be bold, pretend we haven't suffered any losses."
"Zūnmìng!" he exclaimed with great respect.
Isaac, meanwhile, left the place to look for Archer. In an alley, he immediately noticed the bodies of the same three men in black that Caster had killed, however the girl wasn't there. He was worried, but emotions didn't blind his reason and so, remaining calm, he looked around carefully to understand where she was: he combed the streets, the narrow alleys and observed the roofs. Then, leaving that neighborhood, he noticed a figure, far away, that was moving quickly, jumping from roof to roof, towards the Cathedral Church of St Nicholas: it was Archer.
"What is she doing?" he asked in a low voice. He began to run towards the building.
Archer stopped and stood on the tall lantern spire of the church, waiting for someone to arrive.
A short, thin girl with long white hair and a steel visor that covered her eyes came down from the sky like a comet. She landed in front of Archer and showed off a futuristic suit of armor with thorny shoulder pads, bright blue details, and two sorts of sword sheaths attached to her wrists.
"So it was really you..." Archer muttered with a challenging grin. "Were you scouting the city, dwarf? Did you think I wouldn't notice you?"
"Actually, I was hoping you would," she removed her visor and revealed her cold amber eyes, "Baobhan Sith."
"It's always an embarrassment to meet you, Mélusine," she replied with a certain disdain. "I would, however, like to meet your Master, too. I bet she's blonde. You like blondes, don't you?"
"Why talk about my Master when yours is over there getting closer? If I were as wicked as you, I would abandon this church and kill that fool in an instant. But, luckily for you, I have principles and... I have you. Here."
"Do you really think it's a smart idea to fight me? In this town?"
"Don't worry, I'll be quick. No one will notice your death."
"I don't promise you the same... I'll make your death slow and extremely painful."
"You'll never change, beast." She covered her eyes again and got into a fighting stance. "I'm Mélusine, Lancer-class Servant, and I'm here to kill you by the will of my Master!"
Lancer made a lightning-fast dash forward—her opponent didn't even see her approaching—and attacked. Archer was wounded by a magical blade that briefly protruded from one of those sheaths. Instead of creating distance, she stood firm and, grabbing her opponent's arm, counterattacked by firing a magical projectile. Lancer quickly moved her head, thus avoiding the attack, and pushed her opponent with a kick.
Archer smiled and, with irony, began to applaud as if to compliment her opponent. "You almost did it."
"You're wounded—"
"I can recover... and you?"
Archer immediately shot another scarlet magic bullet from her finger. Lancer dodged it and dashed forward again. This time the lady in red jumped to avoid the frontal attack, but she didn't have time to land before her opponent flew at her and carried her up into the sky.
Lancer flew high for a few seconds, then let go of Archer. She hit her in midair once. She grabbed her again and dragged her higher. She let go and hit her another time. Lancer repeated this process a third time and finally, holding Archer by the throat, she said:
"Try to recover from this."
Lancer released her grip and hit Archer with a kick so powerful that it sent her flying out of the city. Archer fell into a grassy expanse that separated the town from the near Eachwick.
The Servant in red was injured, but could still fight; the rival, however, was now ready to resume the offensive.
In an instant, Lancer descended from the sky with the speed of a shooting star and struck the enemy with a deadly attack. The impact of the blow was so powerful that it made the surrounding ground shake.
It wasn't over.
Large black spikes, protruding from Archer's back, blocked Lancer's devastating attack. The Servant in red took advantage of this opportunity to fire a magic projectile. Lancer quickly dodged it, but, in doing so, she gave her opponent another opening. Archer slashed the enemy's leg with the heel of her boot, which had been reinforced with the use of dark magic.
"You're as slow as an overweight pig!"
With that, Archer leapt back and fired several magic projectiles from a single finger. Thanks to her good Magic Resistance, Lancer was able to take no serious damage from the attack... but she had lost her advantage.
"You're persistent, I'll give you that..." Lancer muttered. "I wonder what makes you fight so well..." She grimaced. "Are you the same Baobhan Sith I knew? Are you the same selfish knight who obeyed the Fairy Queen's every whim?"
"Which of us is the real selfish one, Mélusine? We were both knights in my mother's service, the difference is that I was willing to do anything for the good of the kingdom, while you... well, you were too busy trying to please a bitch. We both know that your loyalty to my mother was a lie, and in the end, when we were invaded, you showed your true colors."
"I don't know what you're talking about. I remained faithful to the queen until the end—"
"And yet you didn't kill your brother, who was one of the leaders of the rebellion and who, as it happened, had sided with the invaders. You took pity on him and spared our enemies several times, while I did everything in my power to get rid of them—"
"That wasn't loyalty, that was savage cruelty. You have a twisted way of thinking, Baobhan Sith. I wonder who the hell your Master is, because only a mentally ill person would be able to tolerate you." She paused briefly. "You're a creature that lives to kill and make people suffer. I won't be judged by a lowly beast like you!"
Lancer attacked Archer, but invisible magical strings blocked her blades. Lancer immediately sheathed them and took flight to avoid being grabbed by her opponent. Archer knew that she could not hope to hit an opponent who flew as fast as Lancer and so she remained still, with her guard up, ready for any attack.
Lancer unsheathed both blades and began to channel magical energy. The swords lit up.
"I'll finish you with a single blow..."
She descended from the sky at high speed. Surrounded by a powerful blue light, Lancer quickly approached Archer. She raised both blades.
At that moment, Lancer saw several puppets with yellow turbans appear in front of her opponent. She stopped in mid-air and moved away so as not to risk being hit. The Servant in red was as confused as her enemy.
"I see you have friends, Baobhan Sith—"
"For now, yes," Caster said, appearing among the ranks of his soldiers. "You must be that strange star that wandered in the sky two days ago. I knew you were a Servant. Lancer, right?"
"You, on the other hand, must be Caster. May I know why you protect that beast?"
"Orders from my Master. May I know why you hate her so much?"
"It's none of your business."
"Hmph! Did you send those men in black?"
Lancer shook her head. "I don't rely on minions to win my battles. I can take on any enemy on my own, even one like you."
"Then fight me. I'm here and I won't run away—"
"I'm strong, not stupid. I know that the two of you, together, could use tricks to win. So, I'll give you this little victory for today, next time you won't be so lucky."
With that, Lancer left.
Caster led Archer back to Xiao Jing's place, where Isaac was, and when he saw the Servant, he immediately ran to her.
"Are you okay?" he asked worriedly.
She nodded, surprised by his attitude.
"Why the hell did you leave alone? You could have told me something! Luckily I asked them for help, otherwise who knows what would've happened!" he exclaimed agitatedly.
"I'm sorry, Master, it's just that..." She noticed that Caster and Jing were listening. "It doesn't matter now. I'm sorry. I promise it won't happen again."
He sighed. "It's fine. Anyway, we have allies from today."
"Huh?!" She was shocked. "Allies?!"
"Yes: the two of them."
Xiao Jing and Caster bowed.