Halo: Shattered Fate
X—X—X—X—X
As she mounted the great dragon Fafnir while soaring through the skies in the direction of Lyon, Jeanne d'Arc felt a great deal of annoyance running through her thoughts, although there was a twinge of excitement for what was to come.
Annoyance, nevertheless, was the predominant emotion.
Her week had started rather nicely. She had taken it upon herself to personally incinerate the fat, ugly bastard Pierre Cauchon, the damned bishop who was responsible for her execution. The expression on his face once he saw her again, and especially when she began to burn him down, was so beautiful that it brought a smile to her lips.
The days that followed had been spent with her and her new Servants ravaging through France. Satisfaction was a word that hardly described how she was feeling when she killed those traitors like Charles VII. And if things couldn't have been more satisfying, one of her Servants happened to be a Saint. Forcing her to butcher defenseless peasants and soldiers had been a delightful spectacle, and watching the Saint suffer throughout it all was an added pleasure.
But, unfortunately, it was only afterward that the annoyances started. Learning that there was a second Jeanne d'Arc and one who was seemingly still devoted to him, had caught her by surprise, so much so that she headed straight to La Charite to verify it herself. Gilles had chosen not to accompany her, citing his lack of usefulness in a direct fight as a Caster, which, she begrudgingly admitted, was a fair point. Although Jeanne really wished he would have joined her.
So, after reaching La Charite and witnessing the version of herself, still clinging to her former devotions, Jeanne couldn't help but find the whole situation utterly hilarious. The sheer absurdity of it amused her to no end—how pathetic it was, she thought, to continue following the doctrine of the very god who had led them both to their deaths.
Jeanne planned to savor every moment of breaking her counterpart. Perhaps she would start by torturing her two little buddies who were seemingly accompanying her, or have her stand witness as she brought down destruction upon France. Either way, by the time she was finished, Jeanne was certain her other self would finally see the truth about God.
Or that's what she was planning to do when someone unexpectedly decided to interrupt them. Before she could even react, a shiny blue crystal chariot had appeared in the middle of the scene, picked up her counterpart and her buddies, and made off with them. Oh, and to make matters worse, one of them had managed to leave Carmilla seriously injured in the process.
That made her blood boil. Fortunately, Jeanne was able to command Rider to chase after them before they completely disappeared from her sight, the Saint of Dragons swiftly following her order with an odd glint in her eye. Considering that she was now dead, she surely did something that would help stop her.
So not only she had lost one Servant, but now she knew nothing of her counterpart's group. To know anything about them, she had to rely on Saber's description, and also on that of Carmilla after she had healed her and punished her for having been so pathetically defeated.
The man who had humiliated Carmilla seemed to be clad entirely in green armor, with a black undersuit beneath. There were not many features to describe him, only that underneath his armor he appeared to be wearing a black undersuit, was wearing a helmet with a yellowish-orange visor, and had the characters "117" displayed on the left side of his breastplate.
In addition, he wielded a peculiar weapon that fired what initially appeared to be mini cannonballs. However, upon closer inspection, especially when she carefully extracted them from Carmilla's body—deliberately taking her time—they revealed themselves to be slender projectiles with pointed tips, quite unlike traditional cannonballs.
She wanted to try to learn more about the projectile, however before she had the chance to do so, it had vanished into tiny blue particles and smoke. That had thrown her into a foul mood, and it was only intensified when a few minutes later she sensed the Master-Servant link she had with Rider being cut.
Those two things caused Jeanne to snap, so she grabbed her freshly summoned Assassin and Berserker, along with Fafnir to kill off this little band of rebels. They appeared to be heading towards Lyon, a town she had already visited and in which she had ordered Rider to assassinate the Dragon Slayer. The saint seemed to have found a loophole to that order, for she saw no reason for them to be heading there.
And so, now that Jeanne was about to arrive in Lyon, she was grinning from ear to ear in anticipation. Finally, she was going to get rid of the little group of her holy counterpart, who since the day before had only been a thorn in her side. She'd make sure to torch that fake counterpart, whereas whoever the green brute was was going to end up with his head detached from the rest of his body. And she would keep his weapon.
Despite the distance, she managed to spot them sprinting through the streets of the town. The two little buddies of her fake counterpart were going first, closely followed by a pale-looking man and a woman who screamed royalty. While at the back, the other Jeanne was running alongside…
Holy fuck he's tall. Jeanne thought to herself as her eyes landed on the last Servant. He was precisely as Saber had depicted him, with towering height, green armor that covered his body completely, the numbers 117 inscribed on his chest. Shit, even Berserker would have to raise his head to meet his eyes, if he had any. That helmet revealed nothing of his features.
Even so, there was no reason to be concerned about him for the time being. As intimidating as he might be, it would be for nothing if he ended up being a third-rate Servant. Without missing a single second, she refocused her eyes on the tall Servant and allowed True Name Discernment to do its work on him.
…What the fuck kind of name is Master Chief!?
X—X—X—X—X
"Chief, I picked up something in the area."
Hope's voice almost brought John to a halt. Almost. He knew more than anything that if he were to stop then he would be making a mistake, so he continued to run through the streets while maintaining his pace.
"Where?" He asked
"Northwest of where we are, approximately five hundred meters ahead." Hope immediately answered. "The signal is faint, but it is there."
It didn't require too much effort to comprehend the implications in the words of his AI companion. To go and find out to whom that signal may belong, at the risk of getting overwhelmed by the Dragon Witch and her associates. Or disregard the signal and flee from the town, with the chance of potentially losing the Dragon Slayer.
John was quick to make the decision. Having the support of the Dragon Slayer would be crucial for the successful completion of the mission, therefore it was a risk they needed to take.
"Wait. Hope has picked up a signal." He raised his voice, making sure that everyone was listening, which they did as they all stopped in their tracks. "It is to the northwest, five hundred meters away. The signal is very faint, but we should check it out."
"Then why are we waiting? Let's go!" Marie said.
"Hold it, Marie. The Dragon Witch will reach us before we can get to the Dragon Slayer, if he is even the Dragon Slayer at all." Amadeus said.
Jeanne's gaze was centered on the approaching enemies. Then, the saint planted the bottom of her banner on the ground. "Then I'll be buying you some time. Marie, may I ask for your assistance?"
"Of course! It would be an honor to fight alongside Saint Jeanne!" The Queen of France replied with a radiant smile, before glancing over at her friend. "All right Amadeus, let's prepare for battle… Will you fight with me?"
"Didn't you just order me to fight?" The musician said with a teasing smirk, then his smile turned more gentle. "Don't worry. Just stand proudly and keep smiling like you always do. That's enough motivation for me. And don't you worry about me, if things turn for the worst then I'll just run away on my own!"
It didn't sound like he was actually planning to do so, which is why John simply took his comment as one intended to lighten the mood. If it was not, then there would be a problem.
Meanwhile, Marie returned the smile to her countryman, then she nodded her head. "Yes, that's what the Amadeus I know sounds like. We just have to buy some time, that's all right. Now you three, move on, before they show up."
"Understood, we will rendezvous in ten minutes by the north entrance of Lyon. Good luck."
Glancing at the two teenagers who had just been nodding to each other and who were now staring intently at him, John turned and started heading toward the marker on his HUD.
The three of them made their way through the ravaged roads of Lyon, passing through the destroyed houses to shorten the time to get there. John pointedly overlooked the scorched corpses of the families lying around the interiors of the homes, all clustered together and looking as if they had been hoping to be spared from the fate that had befallen them. It was a grim sight that, although he didn't relish it one bit, he had long grown accustomed to witnessing.
The same thing could not be said by the teenagers who were accompanying him. A sound of unpleasantness escaped from the mouth of one of them, but he did not turn around to find out from whom. It would only be a waste of time, and of that they were in short supply.
As they continued to advance forward, eventually the three of them found themselves standing in front of a castle. It certainly wasn't a huge one, in truth it was too small to be called a castle. But that was not of importance, what it was that the signal he was receiving was originating from the inside of the building.
The Spartan strode towards the castle entrance doors, pushing them open and turning around as he scanned into the distance. Both Ritsuka and Mash passed right by him and entered the building, to which he followed a second later as he closed the door behind him.
Just like the rest of the town, the castle had seen better days. Almost everything was practically in ruins, but more importantly, there was no sign of anyone in sight.
"Any idea where he may be?"
"Scanning, but it's way more tricky when I have only your armor to search with." Hope replied with mild annoyance, or at least that's what he assumed. Then she spoke again. "Try looking around the basement, there should be some stairs to your left that will lead you there."
Turning his head, he saw that there indeed was a door on the left, so he promptly made his way toward it. Upon opening it John observed that the stairs led downward, but there was a slight problem.
He could not fit in, and there was simply no time for digging.
He turned his head around to Ritsuka and Mash, both of whom were seemingly waiting for him to move. "You two go ahead, I'll remain on guard in case someone shows up."
Although somewhat bewildered, both the Master and the Demi-Servant heeded to his words and proceeded through the wooden door, swiftly descending down the stairs.
As he was left alone, John swung his eyes towards the large wooden doors. There was nothing in the room which he could use to barricade the entrance, and he very much doubted that even anything would hold against the strength of a Servant.
Then, all of a sudden, a new gray dot flashed up on his motion tracker, rapidly approaching the front entrance. Without him even being able to react, whoever that gray dot belonged to crashed into the entrance of the castle.
The Spartan instinctively leapt to the side when massive chunks of debris came hurtling straight at him, landing on his feet and promptly hoisting his assault rifle.
A long, aggressive growl echoed from deep within the cloud of dust and smoke that filled the castle's inner walls. Once the dust settled, the form of a giant reptilian came into view. The creature had two imposing horns on its head and large wings, with black scales that covered its entire body with the exception of its neck and chest, which had a striking white hue, as well as a large tail whose tip was both white and spiked.
"So that's a Wyvern." Hope said in a curious tone of voice. "It really does look quite different from Tarasque. Like a dragon taken from a medieval fairy tale."
Then, the dragon's yellow eyes focused on him, and they narrowed as its whole body turned in his direction. "Glad you find it interesting."
"Oh I do, but I don't get why you don't. I mean, it's a dragon, a real dragon!"
"One that is trying to kill us." The Spartan dryly said.
Once again John used his feet to propel himself, this time upwards as the wyvern swung its tail across the ground. Upon landing on the destroyed floor, he moved himself to his left and began to open fire on the dragon. The bullets he shot were very effective against the creature, piercing into its back, shoulders and chest, provoking a wail of pain from the black dragon.
Nevertheless, they were not enough to bring an end to the dragon's life, who after a brief moment flicked one of its gigantic wings in his direction. The Master Chief leveled his assault rifle at the oncoming wing and unloaded all the remaining rounds in the magazine.
Although clearly injured and in severe pain, the dragon did not withdraw its wing and continued to push forward, forcing him to take action. John allowed for the wing to close in on him, and one moment before it made contact with him, he dove backwards. As the creature's attack narrowly missed and its gigantic wing slammed against the ground, the Chief propelled himself forward with his legs and vaulted over the wing, while exchanging his rifle for his shotgun.
Once he held the shotguns with both hands, he strode forward, dashing across the wyvern's wing. The dragon flapped its wing in an attempt to shake him off, though before John had lost his balance he had leapt towards the dragon's head.
Without wasting a single second, he aimed the shotgun at the creature's brain—or at least where he thought it was—then pressed down on the trigger. As the buckshot exploded from the barrel, John thrusted the forend backwards and took another shot, unwilling to leave anything to chance.
The wyvern's wail of pain triggered by the first round of buckshot, was abruptly cut short as the second shot exploded its head on impact, littering the wall with his cerebral debris.
John then fell down and glided across the floor, before he turned over and stood up gracefully. The dragon's body was lying lifeless on the ground. Observing that the threat was safely killed, John shoved two shells inside the shotgun before he placed it on his back, seizing the assault rifle and discarding the empty magazine to exchange for a full one.
"Good job." Hope congratulated him.
"Thanks."
"Chief, we found him!"
Ritsuka's voice reverberated through the room, coming from the staircase he and Mash had descended a few moments ago. John made his move towards the door, whereupon Mash stepped out and was followed by Ritsuka, who was assisting a man by slunging his arm over his shoulder.
He was a tall man, not reaching his own height, with tanned skin and long silver-gray hair. His shoulders were protected with bulky silver shoulder pads, while bracelets of the same color encased his forearms. Underneath he wore a plain black undersuit with red lines, which for whatever reason displayed his chest where a large, glowing green scar was located. On his back, he was carrying a greatsword, although he wondered how it stayed in place since he didn't seem to have anything to hold it in place.
However, it was not his garments, the greatsword or that particular scar that attracted his attention. Rather, it was the several black marks that were scrawled all across his body, that for some reason he felt were actually vivid, and moreover, were constantly inflicting damage on him.
John was quick to move to his side, and he slung the man's arm over his shoulder. Ritsuka seemed to be having trouble carrying him on his own, and with Mash taking care of the immediate defense, it was up to him to support him.
"Easy, we'll get you out of here." John said, prompting the man to glance at him gratefully.
"T-Thank you." The tanned man weakly thanked him.
"Don't mention it." John nonchalantly said, before shifting his gaze over to Mash. "Lead the way."
The lilac-haired girl gave a determined nod of the head before turning her body away and moving off in the direction of the entrance, with the three of them trailing closely behind her.
The foursome became aware of the situation as soon as they left the ruined castle. The sounds of fighting echoed through the roads of the town, though John noticed that they were getting louder and closer by the second.
It was then that Hope's voice boomed from the speakers of his armor, her voice sounding concerned. "Warning, the giant signal I picked up earlier is getting closer!"
The four barely had enough time to process her words, with the man leaning over his shoulder looking confused as to where Hope's voice came from, when in the distance they were able to visualize it.
It was a giant dragon, whose sheer size made the wyvern he had just faced a few moments ago look like an infant. His skin was as dark as the night, and he sported two horns on his head, but the one thing that drew his attention was the mark it had on its torso. It was identical to the one on the man who stood leaning over his shoulder, the same color, and glowing in the same manner.
John averted his eyes from the incoming black dragon to the tanned man, noticing the look of surprise and acknowledgment the man had as he stared at the massive creature. "Someone you know?"
"Yes." He answered, his eyes never straying from the dragon. "I believe he is the reason I am here."
John had no time to question his words, as the dragon was already here. He halted right in front of them, hovering in the air thanks to his gigantic wings which produced great waves of wind in the surrounding area, glaring at them all with a deathly stare.
Then, the same voice as Jeanne's was heard, coming from over the dragon and with a condescending tone. "And here I was wondering what you found here. Turns out, it's just another dying Servant! Pffthahahaha!"
He lifted his gaze ever so slightly, watching as the woman identical to Jeanne—they should really think of a name to differentiate them—was laughing maniacally as she straddled the dragon's back.
Her yellow eyes, brimming with rage and lust for destruction, descended upon them. With a snarl, she pointed directly at where they stood. "Very well, if you all want to die so badly then I will help you! You can all die together!"
Upon receiving the other Jeanne's words, the black dragon seemed like it was prepared to attack them. John immediately dismissed his shotgun and started to search in his armory for some very, very heavy weaponry.
However, before the Spartan was able to summon his weapon of choice, Mash had stepped forward, staring with some fear, but predominantly defiance at the great dragon.
"Stay behind me!" She yelled out, as she began to power up her Noble Phantasm. "Lord Chaldeas!"
Glowing blue light appeared in front of Mash, and a second later both she and the rest of the group were encompassed, mere moments before the flames originating from the dragon's mouth engulfed them.
It was a good thing that Mash had taken action. He had no need to resort to his armor's sensors to figure out that the temperature of those flames would have scorched them instantly, the sight of the buildings around them burning and turning to cinders being enough.
Nevertheless, John understood that this would not be enough. As hard as she seemed to be trying, Mash was looking as if she would not be able to hold on for any longer, and the moment her shield would finally collapse, then they would all perish.
A shuffle at his side prompted the Master Chief to sweep his gaze around to his left, viewing as the man gently disengaged from his grasp as well from Ritsuka's, and was now walking straight ahead.
"Thanks to you, my strength has been slightly restored. Please allow me to help you." He said, his eyes briefly jerking over to Ritsuka, before he once again turned back up towards the black dragon. "It's been a while, Evil Dragon Fafnir. If you have resurrected, then I will ensure to send you back to your slumber."
So the dragon's name was Fafnir? John had never heard of it, it must have been an ancient legend.
Even so, when the Spartan switched his gaze to the black dragon, he realized how it… was trembling. Something that did not go unnoticed by the other Jeanne, who wrinkled her brow as she observed the situation.
"Fafnir is trembling… This Servant, could he—?"
She was unable to conclude her words, as the tanned man had already clutched his greatsword, the blade of which was then encircled by a bluish stream of magical energy that expanded upwards into the sky.
The Dragon Slayer raised his greatsword above his head, and then shouted. "Hear me, One Who Rules the Blue Sky! My name is Siegfried! He who once defeated thee! Noble Phantasm, Release! Balmung!"
He swung his sword downwards, and the stream of energy blasted away from his weapon, soaring through the air toward Fafnir and the other Jeanne. In a panic, the Dragon Witch commanded the dragon to fly away, a command which Fafnir followed instantly. His fear of Siegfried was palpable, the mere sight of the Dragon Slayer enough to drive him away.
When both the witch and the dragon had gotten out of sight, Siegfried, whose story John was not familiar with, started to wobble forward. Hurriedly, the Spartan took three steps and closed the distance between himself and Siegfried, catching him before he fell face- first into the ground.
The Master Chief slung the knight's arm over his shoulder, to which the knight gave him an apologetic look. "I'm sorry… but that's the best I can do."
He had just frightened off the Dragon Witch as well as Fafnir, and he was now apologizing? John couldn't understand why, as far as he was concerned, he had done an outstanding performance.
"You did well." John said, before turning his head to Ritsuka and Mash. "Let's retreat."
The two teenagers nodded, and in under a second they were all heading towards the north of the town, the place where they would regroup with Jeanne, Marie and Amadeus… if they were still alive.
It didn't take them long to reach the area, although Siegfried's condition had slightly delayed them. The Dragon Witch, who wished to prolong his suffering for her twisted pleasure, had cast a curse on him, but Martha's hidden meddling ensured that he would survive, even though the curses on his body were still constantly weakening him.
Upon reaching the location, they were not met by the remainder of the group, which prompted a frown to form in John's face. "Hope, extend the range of the motion tracker and locate them."
"On it." She informed him, then hummed cheerfully just as three blue dots appeared on his radar. "Great, it looks like they are alive and are currently approaching us."
A glimmer of relief flashed through his mind when he heard the good news, but the Master Chief dismissed it out of his thoughts in order to focus back on the mission.
His head swiveled over to the left, as his blue eyes swept from left to right in search of them. Then, three silhouettes appeared in the distance, each one of them running over to where they were.
And following close behind them, five wyverns were chasing after them, at a distance from the ground that would be forced to stop if they truly wanted to eliminate them. And from the looks on their faces, that's precisely what they were planning to do.
But that would require additional time, which, even if it wasn't a lot, would still delay them slightly.
Heaving out a low sigh, John gestured with his hand for Mash to approach him. The Shielder, with a look of mild puzzlement complied, at which he carefully released his hold on Siegfried and handed it over to her.
Despite Siegfried's large frame, Mash didn't appear to have any problem in holding him, for which he gave her a small nod of appreciation before he spun in the direction of Jeanne and the rest of the group.
Time almost seemed to slow down while John was observing the situation, all the while his mind raced as he absorbed everything in his sight.
Five wyverns, all of them soaring at an altitude of at least thirty to fifty meters. In close proximity to each other, with one hovering right behind another. An accurate shot could easily spare him a bullet. His mind quickly provided a solution to the problem, and then the world resumed its natural velocity. Swiftly, he summoned a sniper rifle, the SRS99C-S2 AM in particular, and leveled it squarely at the flying wyverns.
The first bullet bursted out of the barrel with a deafening roar, traveling towards the wyvern in front of the second one. The round pierced smoothly through the dragon's forehead, and within a second it sailed out from the back of its head and went hurtling towards the wyvern behind it. With no opportunity to even react, the wyvern was struck, and both creatures collapsed lifeless against the ground.
The remaining wyverns also dropped to the ground without life. It only took a moment, but each one's lives had ended with a bullet embedding itself through their skulls.
"…You know, I'm starting to believe that you really like to show off." Hope remarked, her tone playful.
He made no response to her comment, instead John tossed away the empty magazine and then put a new one in its place, before attaching the sniper to his back while he grabbed the MA37 assault rifle in his hands.
The three arrived within a minute, with no major injuries present in their bodies, apart from minor cuts and the few bruises.
"Merci for the help, Chief." Marie expressed her thanks, with gratitude filling her voice.
"We must leave now." The Saint said, her eyes briefly wandering back the path they had just come from before they shifted back to Ritsuka. "We were confronted by a Servant, and we only managed to restrain him by collapsing three houses on top of him, but I do not believe it will be enough to hold him off for much longer."
"All right, let's go then!"
Ritsuka's words were the cue for everyone to head beyond the entrance of the town, leaving the destroyed Lyon behind them.
John, just as he had done so far, assumed the lead position, alongside Jeanne who joined him as well. Following behind the two of them trailed Ritsuka and Mash, the Shielder holding the Dragon Slayer on her shoulder while Amadeus was helping her, having been ordered by Marie to do so. Said Queen was at the rear of the group, riding a horse made of a blue crystal.
With the immediate field empty, he was hoping they wouldn't need to stop due to the Servant the Ruler had encountered earlier. Like she had said, he also had his doubts that a few collapsed buildings would be sufficient to halt him, so distancing themselves from Lyon was the optimal approach for avoiding a confrontation.
"Wait, please. I see something up ahead." Jeanne said, bringing the group to a halt and making John mutely curse. "That's the… French army!"
Blinking once, the Spartan fixed his sights on the direction in which Jeanne's eyes were aimed.
A few hundred meters to the right from their current position, a regiment of what appeared to be the same soldiers that they had crossed paths with a few hours earlier were locked in a desperate battle against several wyverns. He spotted a couple of cannons on the side that would have probably been helpful to them with the dragons, but they were out of reach for them. The scene was chaotic, and it was clear from the mangled bodies and frantic movements that the soldiers were on the losing end of the fight.
John understood which was the moral decision they should make, but he also knew the logical one. Given Siegfried's current state, and the uncertainty of whether the Dragon Witch would eventually return with Fafnir, to stay and support the soldiers might only bring further risks for them. And yet, the thought of leaving the soldiers alone to their death, against an enemy they had little prospect of winning, did not sit well with him.
It reminded him of many choices that were still weighing on him to this day.
A sudden blur that rushed in front of him snapped the Spartan away from his thoughts. As he focused on it, he realized that it was actually Jeanne, who was charging straight towards the regiment of French soldiers.
"Jeanne, wait!" Mash shouted, in vain as the Saint did nothing to stop. "Master, what do we do!?"
Ritsuka was quick to answer. "Let's support her! Amadeus, Marie, you two protect Siegfried! Chief, take out as many wyverns as you can from here! Mash, go ahead and back up Jeanne!"
"Copied." John responded, keeping his surprise at the boy's quick devised strategy to himself.
The Spartan reached out for his sniper once again, taking aim straight towards the ensuing battle, and half a second passed during which he carefully selected his target. prior to taking the shot.
Then the Master Chief took the shot, the sniper's bullet sliced through the air, finding its mark as it struck the left side of a wyvern's head. The round pierced through its skull and exited from the right side, where it continued its flight and then impacted against the torso of another dragon.
The beast spun towards them, wounded yet not in a way that made it look like it would be immobilized. It seemed as if it was on the verge of lunging forward at them, but at that moment Jeanne stepped in front of it, vaulting into the air and thrusting her banner across its chest.
The creature was unmistakably dead, of that there was no doubt, so Jeanne searched for the next one. As she landed back on the ground, her eyes caught the glint of a wyvern's claws poised to rip through a soldier. In an instant, she sprinted forward and closed the distance, her banner rising as she struck the beast's paw, knocking it aside and saving the soldier from certain death.
John seized the opportunity to open fire on the wyvern, killing the beast with a single accurate shot. Without pause, the Spartan then adjusted his aim slightly to the left, just in time to see Mash arriving on the battlefield. With flawless timing, the Shielder intercepted a wyvern's tail, her massive shield absorbing the blow meant for a soldier with long, raven-black hair.
Just as he had done moments before, he opened fire on the dragon, this time the bullet striking its neck due to a sudden movement of the beast, forcing him to use the final bullet of his magazine on the wyvern's head.
As he reloaded his sniper, John observed as the remaining wyverns were beginning to scatter away from the battlefield. Without a second thought, he unloaded the four bullets from the magazine on them, fully aware that it would be foolish to allow them to remain alive with the possibility that they would return afterwards and attack them again.
Watching as the wyverns he had fired at dropped dead and the rest disappeared away into the distance, John released his sniper, which dissolved into azure particles. Then, he took hold of his assault rifle, before twisting his head around to face Ritsuka.
"We should go and join them." He gestured with his shoulder to where the French army was standing alongside Jeanne and Mash.
The boy gave a nod of agreement. "Yes, come on."
With those words of the Master, they all moved in the direction of the French army.
Upon their arrival, it was all too easy to notice the tense air that stretched across the atmosphere. The soldiers, wisely, maintained cautious attitudes towards them, although with Jeanne they were somewhat different. It was a mixture of hope, caution, disbelief, and some rage on some.
Then, one of the soldiers, the one with long black hair that Mash had previously saved, stepped toward them, his eyes intently focused on Jeanne with a look of complete disbelief.
"Jeanne, is that… really you?" The man asked, his voice coming out as if his sanity depended on her answer. "It's me, Gilles… Do you… remember me?"
No response was provided by the saint, who in fact did not even look as if she wished to speak to the man.
The two had a relationship, of this John had absolutely no doubt. The issue was, he had no clue who the man was. From his clothing he could discern that his rank compared to the rest of the troops was considerably higher, although he couldn't determine which rank he held.
An idea sprang into the Spartan's mind. If they managed to persuade him to aid them, then he might be able to have the troops support them at the moment of the decisive confrontation with the Dragon Witch. Obviously in a more auxiliary role, John was not stupid enough to command them directly to confront the Witch's Servants.
However, another problem emerged. That being that a large portion of the troops were seemingly under the impression that Jeanne was in fact the Dragon Witch.
"General, do not approach her. It might be one of her tricks to make us lower our guard."
"Hold on, she just helped us! Why would the Dragon Witch help us only to kill us afterwards?"
The soldiers' debate commenced at that moment, however, the general's eyes remained fixated on Jeanne, who was doing her utmost to avoid looking at him.
…This wasn't going to get them anywhere.
He was on the brink of stepping in to intervene, when a sudden beeping sound originating from Ritsuka's wrist brought him to a halt. The Master raised his left arm, displaying a black wristwatch that was in fact a communicator with Chaldea, which was flashing in blue.
Pressing one of his two buttons, the diminutive form of Romani materialized above his watch, who was wearing a panicked expression on his features. "Fujimaru, we picked up several signs of Servants getting close to where you are, you have to leave now!"
Immediately John, as well as the rest of the Chaldean group, grew tense, much to the concern of a few of the French soldiers.
Suddenly, something slammed into the ground nearby with a tremendous impact, sending a shockwave rippling through the air and scattering dust and debris in every direction. As the dust cloud settled and visibility returned, a lone figure emerged from the haze, stepping into view.
He was a man, standing tall and stout, or at least that's what John thought him to be. His entire body was covered by a shadowy mist, giving him the appearance of a shadow rather than a man. He could only point out that he was wearing armor with a helmet, which had a glowing red visor.
Then, two red dots suddenly popped up on his motion tracker, one to his left and one to his right. Casting a cursory glance, he caught sight of the pale woman in revealing garments to his left, the one John had earlier shot down with his assault rifle. With each step she took there was a small twitch in her expression, most likely from pain, though her eyes lingered on him in utter fury. He could guess why.
The Spartan jerked his pale blue eyes over to the right, seeing an individual he had not seen previously. He was a tall, slender man with short white hair, light blue eyes, reaching cyan, and white skin. He was wearing a large brown coat with white detailing that if zipped up, a white cross would form in the center of his coat. Beneath it he wore a clean white shirt, with a rose-colored handkerchief tied at the collar of his shirt, as well as black pants with matching colored boots. In his right hand he held a dark brown sword, detailed with white accents across the hilt.
A chuckle was heard, and John peered over his shoulder at Marie, who giggled as she looked at the albino man. "Oh dear, what a coincidence to find you here. You know, I've never forgotten your face, you lazy artisan."
"It warms my heart hearing that, I wasn't able to forget yours either. Both your face and your white collar." The man said, smiling broadly. "I believe that this is destiny, that the two of us share a special connection. And don't we? An executioner killing the same person twice, I feel that only us share that kind of connection."
So this was the man who had executed Marie. For being the person who had ended her life, the Queen of France didn't appear the slightest bit angry with him, rather she acted as if she had stumbled upon a comrade after a long time.
Amadeus then took a step forward in front of Marie, raising his arm protectively as he glared at the executor. "Not only in your life, but even now you are yearning to execute Marie? Sanson, could it be that you really are a madman?"
Sanson's smile dropped away from his face, as he scowled deeply at Amadeus. "Truly, it pains me to speak of our relationship with a scumbag like you. You, who claim that all lives, all humans, are filthy." He spat out those last words in sheer disgust. "But I do not. To me, humans are sacred and precious creatures. That is why we executioners respect life. In the end, we are incompatible, you and I. But you, the scum who couldn't even love humans nor understand her, have no right to stand by her side."
"Enough of this babbling!" A scream came from the pale woman. Her eyes roamed across everyone, until they settled on him, as a malicious grin took shape on her lips. "If you so badly wish to kill that Queen, then do it at once! I'll take care of the two girls. Lancelot, handle that green brute! Ensure that he is left alive!"
"Wow, she really has it for you." Hope muttered in his private comms, as he concentrated on who would be his opponent.
Lancelot, he was well aware of who he was. A Knight of the Round Table, who according to the Chaldeans were warriors of the highest caliber. He recalled that one of the four dozen ships that were present during the second Battle of Sigma Octanus IV was named after him, even though it was destroyed later in the conflict.
He pushed those memories aside. Now was not the moment to waste time.
Watching as the knight had yet to make his move, John shortened the distance between the two of them and opened fire. In the knight's hands, a staff with red lightning-like markings manifested itself, and from one moment to the other every single one of his bullets was obliterated with unbelievable precision.
Then, the knight finally made his move. Before even John could have reacted, he was struck in the shoulder and was sent hurtling a few feet away. He crashed down hard against the ground, where he immediately pulled himself back to his feet, not without feeling the pain spreading down his left shoulder and into his arm. He quickly banished the pain from his conscience, something he had learned to do decades ago.
John then checked his energy shield gauge, noticing how it had decreased by about 60%. He didn't wish to discover what would happen if Lancelot managed to land two more strikes on him.
The Spartan sprang to the side as the knight's staff came crashing down, narrowly missing his head. In the same motion, he squeezed the trigger of his rifle, unleashing a burst of bullets. Yet once again, the projectiles shattered mid-flight, effortlessly deflected by the knight before they could even impact against his body.
As the knight quickly moved towards him, John raised his rifle as a makeshift shield just in time to meet Lancelot's next strike, thus blocking the attack but simultaneously splitting the rifle in half. Without missing a beat an M6C magnum pistol emerged in his right hand, which in one fluid motion he aimed it squarely at the knight's forehead before pressing down on the trigger.
As the single round hurtled toward him, the dark knight cocked his head to the side, the bullet barely grazing his helmet, missing its mark by a fraction. Lancelot attempted to leap backward to gain some distance between the both of them, but John was faster. In a blur of motion, the Spartan's hand clamped around the knight's neck, holding him in place.
Then the Spartan released his grip on the pistol and clenched his fist, hurling it towards him and delivered a powerful uppercut to Lancelot's chin, the force reverberating through both men's armor.
The man let out a beast-like scream, and John's instincts screamed.
The knight's staff struck John squarely in the head, sending a jolt through his body as his vision blurred, his mind reeling as if his consciousness was bouncing chaotically within his skull. But in a heartbeat, he regained control, steadying himself just in time to sidestep a second strike aimed directly at his chest.
His shields were completely down. It would take five long seconds for them to recharge, but Lancelot's next attack was already incoming. With no other choice, John deflected the blow with his arm, absorbing the impact before swiftly countering with a left-handed jab to the knight's stomach. He pressed the advantage, not relenting as he repeatedly struck Lancelot in the head.
The black knight had finally reached his limit. With a guttural scream, he delivered a powerful kick to John's chest, the force sending the Spartan hurtling backward.
John stopped his momentum by slamming his foot into the ground, steadying himself as the taste of metallic blood filled his mouth. The Spartan then swiftly summoned an assault rifle in his hands, the very one he had used earlier, and poured all the bullets inside the magazine into Lancelot. The knight brought up his staff and swung it in a wide arc, shattering most of the incoming bullets with ease. But one found its mark, slipping through his defenses and striking him squarely in the chest.
Unfortunately, the bullet had struck the left side of Lancelot's chest, inflicting only minor damage. It failed to reach his spiritual core, leaving the knight wounded but far from defeated.
But at least that proved that his bullets were capable of reaching him.
With some measure of relief at that, and just in the moment his shields charged back to full power the Chief pressed the release switch, allowing the empty magazine to tumble out of the rifle and replacing it with a new one.
When the black knight charged right at him, John took his shot. This time however, the knight darted to the side to evade the stream of bullets heading his way, dashing across the field as he waited for the rounds remaining in his magazine to run out.
Once the weapon's ammunition counter dropped to 0, Lancelot wasted no time, closing the distance less than a second. The black knight raised his staff high over his left shoulder, ready to strike. When the blow came, John duck down and narrowly dodged the swing, then he released his rifle and reached out to the knight, clutching him by the collar of his armor.
With all his strength John threw him to the side while he summoned a pistol, drawing it down to his legs. He pressed on the trigger twice, blasting two pairs of bullets straight into his thighs. One Lancelot succeeded in destroying, but with the other he was not so lucky. It impacted and pierced through his right leg, prompting the knight to scream out in pain.
John brought his pistol up, aiming directly at Lancelot's head, but before he could even get a shot off, he was forced to jump backwards to avoid a swift strike aimed to his head. He flipped backward through the air, snatching his rifle from the grass with his left hand as he landed smoothly on his feet. Then he holstered the pistol in the magnetic holder on his leg, swiftly reloaded the rifle, and immediately unleashed a barrage of fire at the knight.
The black knight tried to sidestep the oncoming fire, but his injured leg hampered his movement. Of the 32 rounds fired, only 15 found their mark, most striking the left side of Lancelot's body. The barrage tore through his armor, and with a heavy groan, the knight collapsed to the ground, his body crumpling under the relentless assault.
At the sight of Lancelot sprawled on the ground, John released a deep exhale, one that the Spartan didn't know he had bottled up inside of himself. Part of him was slightly eased by the realization that in comparison to the earlier fight with Martha, he was more in control of himself in this one. He was also getting accustomed to fighting Servants. It felt… good.
He could only use that word to describe it, but he didn't let himself get distracted by that. After he reloaded the rifle, he cautiously stepped closer to the body of the knight of the round table, noticing how the man suffered contractions. He was very much alive, his ragged breathing gave that away, so he maintained a little bit of space between them.
"How injured is he?" John asked.
The AI hummed thoughtfully as she analyzed the knight's body, taking a few seconds before responding. "Well, you've really messed him up. He's got a few broken bones, and his left lung is wrecked. It may take a while for him to recover."
He would not give him that chance.
The Master Chief swiftly secured his assault rifle to his back and took hold of the pistol holstered on his leg. Wordlessly, he leveled the weapon at the knight's head, his index finger hovering just above the trigger.
The ringing sound of an explosion interrupted him. Peering out of the corner of his eye, he observed how the rest of his team was doing. Ritsuka was currently supporting Siegfried, with Mash and Jeanne fending off the attacks of the pale woman. Meanwhile, a few meters away Amadeus and Marie were locked in combat with Sanson, the battle between the three of them evenly matched, neither side gaining the upper hand.
He then turned his gaze toward the source of the explosion. It originated from the artillery of the French army, which, due to the orientation in which it was placed, had been aimed at the Servant in revealing clothes. Despite their earlier doubts, it seemed the General had successfully rallied and commanded his troops. That was good.
"…A…" A sudden noise made by Lancelot caused him to lower his eyes. The knight had his hand reaching out in the direction of where Ritsuka was standing, but his attention was not fixed on the boy. In fact, it rather looked like it was on Jeanne. "A-Arthur…"
Arthur? Was he calling out for his King? Strange, but ultimately irrelevant.
John quietly pressed the trigger, and the brains of the Knight of the Round Table scattered across the grass around him. Then, began to dissolve, golden particles rising from where he had fallen. In a matter of seconds, there was no trace left of the black knight, as if he had never existed at all.
Then he turned himself around, noticing the sudden quietness in the vicinity. As he looked closer, he realized the fighting had ceased, and the Servants loyal to the Dragon Witch were now staring him down. The woman was gazing at him with wide eyes, her expression betraying as much surprise as it did fear. Sanson, however, remained calm, his only reaction a single raised eyebrow, as if appraising the Spartan without alarm.
"C-Curse you." The woman shouted, her voice trembling with anger and fear. Without waiting for a response, she turned and bolted, her retreat swift and desperate. "Sanson, retreat!"
Sanson clicked his tongue in irritation at the woman's command but complied nonetheless, pushing himself back with his legs.
"Forgive me Marie, I will complete your execution at a later time, I can promise you that." Sanson said softly, his voice carrying a calm, almost melancholic tone.
As the words left his lips, his body began to fade away. John brought his pistol up and angled it in his direction, but before he had a chance to shoot, the albino man vanished, dissolving into the air. A quick glance confirmed that the woman had disappeared as well, leaving behind an empty battlefield.
The Spartan walked over to where the Master of Chaldea was, frowning. Despite having taken down Lancelot, he would have also preferred to eliminate Sanson and whoever that woman was. Their absence would have left the Dragon Witch's forces weaker—perhaps not drastically, but enough to ease the burden. At the very least, it would have been two fewer enemies to contend with in the future.
A pity, but they could deal with it.
"Are you all right?"
"Yeah, luckily Mash and Jeanne were able to handle Carmilla." Ritsuka answered with a nod.
Carmilla huh? So that was her name. She must have announced it at some point throughout the battle, but he must have missed it.
He honestly had no zero on who she was, but surely Mash could inform him afterwards. She apparently was knowledgeable about historical individuals, so he wasn't concerned about that.
What the Chief was concerned about was the French army. They had barely managed to survive against the previous attack of the wyverns, and they had suffered heavy casualties in their ranks. If the Dragon Witch reappeared once more with additional reinforcements, then the odds of them surviving would be extremely low.
"We should leave." John suggested to Ritsuka after lowering the volume of his voice, not wishing to be overheard by the approaching soldiers.
"But what will happen to them? If we leave them on their own then perhaps the Dragon Witch may try to kill them." Mash asked, taking a brief concerned glance at the army of France.
John shook his head from left to right. "Highly unlikely. She has her sights set on us, so she's probably just going to ignore them for now. If we were to stay, on the other hand, we would only put them at risk."
She silently contemplated his words, before she agreed with him with a slow nod. "Yes, I understand Chief. Here Senpai, let me help you."
She stepped forward to Siegfried's side, raising her arm and draping it over her shoulder. With Ritsuka supporting him from the other side, he figured they wouldn't have much trouble carrying the wounded knight. Still, he made a mental note to take the Master's place later, just in case Ritsuka needed to take a break. He was still a normal human after all.
"All right, let's get going." Ritsuka said.
Nodding in acknowledgment, John circled around the group, stepping forward to take the lead. But just as he moved, a sudden shout rang out, halting him mid-step.
"Jeanne! Please wait!" John twisted his head, glancing over at the source of the voice. "Not the Dragon Witch, but a genuine saint!"
John followed the general's gaze, his eyes landing on Jeanne. She stood still, her head bowed with her eyes fixed on the ground as if lost in deep conflict. It was clear she was struggling, hesitating to respond to the general's call.
Marie drew closer to her, speaking to her in a hushed whisper. "Shouldn't you answer him?"
Jeanne looked at her in silence, uncertainty passing through her eyes for a moment before she shook her head and continued walking. "No. As the Master Chief pointed out, if we remain here, then I will jeopardize Gilles and his men. For now, we must tolerate the contempt of those who once stood and fought by my side."
"But do they actually hate you?" Marie asked softly, her voice filled with concern.
The Saint of Orleans only gave her a small smile, offering no direct answer. "Let's go."
John moved ahead, taking the lead as the group began their march toward the forests.
Behind them, he caught snippets of conversation as the general—Gilles—discussed something with his soldiers, but he gave it no thought, focusing instead on the path ahead. He continued to pressed forward, hoping that neither enemies nor obstacles would cross their path.
X—X—X—X—X
AUTHOR NOTES:
Wow, that was probably the longest chapter I've written to date.
Apologies for the delay, I had planned to have it finished by this Saturday or Sunday, but a sudden power outage put an end to that. At least I finished with my exams, so I will be putting a little more effort to get a new chapter out in the next two weeks.
On another topic, the news from Halo was more than interesting. I'll hold out a little hope for them, but they've let me down in the past, so we shall see. At least I expect that leaving 343 Industries behind means dropping everything they carried with them, from unfinished content to broken promises. Though it's a shame that I won't be able to enjoy it personally.
As for the CE Remake, we'll have to see what happens. I'm not a big supporter of Remakes, as I consider them an easy outlet for companies, but like I mentioned before, we'll see.
All right, that's it for me, I'll be seeing you in the next one.
N.R