It was supposed to just be a quick walk around the camp.
He didn't even go too far from the campfire, he just went to a more open space and spent a minute at best before walking back.
So where the hell did this girl come from?
"...I am Jean D'Arc! Jeanne D'Arc's little sister!"
And not just any girl, either, but Jeanne D'Arc's sister!
Upon the girl's introduction, King immediately searched his memories about Jeanne D'Arc's life from the books he read. She did have siblings now that he tried to recall. Some brothers and a sister.
They all outlived her, so it makes sense for Jeanne's sister to be here, he supposed.
'…Wait, no it isn't.'
"...So what do we owe the visit of Jeanne D'Arc's sister, then?" King asked carefully.
"O-oh, nothing in particular! I was just taking a night walk." Jean said, forcing a somewhat upbeat tone.
'Hmph, even I could tell that's a lie.' King thought. Seriously, did this girl seriously think that would work? Well, then again she's not even nineteen, maybe she'll learn in time.
"Now, now, no need to lie. I can tell why you're here." King said confidently.
The young girl tensed up immediately, King could see the intensity of water dripping down her face increase by the millisecond.
He's not bluffing, either. The amount of clues the girl left was simply overwhelming, to the point even someone like him could deduce what her true goal is.
"That's right, you…"
"H-how?! Why you-"
"...came to see Jeanne, right?"
…
"Huh?" The girl's face went from worried to some sort of inexplicable confusion. Maybe too stunned from having her goal be pointed out so quickly.
"Let's see here, you introduced yourself as Jeanne's sister even before I said anything about her. Additionally, the fact that you came here as her sister instead of the Jeanne currently going around town means that you know a bit about the real Jeanne here."
"The sword is for protection since you don't know what kind of people we are. And finally, you came in secrecy because you're deathly worried about your big sister." King finished his hypothesis. Ha! Maybe reading those detective mangas with the highschooler turned little kid rubbed off on him a little.
"So, am I right?"
…
"...Right."
King pumped up his fist in pride. Finally! Something he could say he did by himself without outside assistance!
"I'll call everyone else, yeah? They could probably help you out. Hey, Kar-"
Squeeze
A sharp pain on King's wrist stopped the words from coming out of his mouth.
'H-holy shit! She's so strong!'
The girl's lean figure betrayed the pressure her grip had on King's right hand, an expression of desperation transparent on her face.
Now that he thought about it, the Arc family were farmers weren't they? He had heard, even back home, that people who grew up in farms had insane strength.
"L-let's talk somewhere else." Jean stuttered.
"So you snuck out on your family because you heard about your sister's death in Orleans?"
Jean nodded.
"And you heard of her resurrection just as you arrived?"
Another nod.
"Why didn't you go with the impostor, then?"
"W-well I was actually there at the fort, when she made that speech, and she didn't sound like my… my b-big sister."
"I guess you saw us after the whole dragon thing and followed us, yeah?"
"R-right, exactly. I, uh, overheard the whole thing."
King nodded in understanding next to the slightly shaking little sister, no doubt overwhelmed by the circumstances her sister has found herself in.
"What were you planning to do anyway after meeting up with Miss Jeanne?" King asked.
"..." For a moment, Jean's lips froze. The seconds ticked away as the conversation changed into the night's ambience.
King mentally kicked himself. That was rude of him, girl probably has way too much on her mind to think that far.
"I… I wasn't really planning to meet her, actually. I just wanted to… check up on her! Yeah, that's why I snuck around the camp!" The girl replied with a blatantly forced smile.
King grimaced. He must've dug something unpleasant from the girl's memories. Maybe the sisters had a strained relationship? The books didn't really delve deep into The Arcs' family life.
Still, now he felt sorry for the girl. She must've mustered a lot of courage to go out of her hometown and to Orleans just to see her sister even with whatever baggage they might have. There must be some way he could help her out.
"Well, it's… it's been nice, monsieur, but I see that my… sister is doing quite fine with your company, so-"
"How about I let you see her every night?"
…
"...I-I'm sorry?"
"I mean, you're really worried about Miss Jeanne, right? But I understand that you don't want to get too involved with our organization." King surmised.
"W-well, yes, but-"
"So how about we have an arrangement?"
King rummaged through his pocket to take out a cylindrical object.
Da Vinci had given both he and Ritsuka spare communicators just in case. Never thought it'd be used for this, though.
"Take this. It's kinda complicated, but I'll contact you when our group makes camp. That way you can see your sister without meeting the rest of us." King said, offering the communicator to the girl.
Jean remained speechless at the offer.
"Well, that's all I can really do to help you. So, good night, Miss Jean." King said, walking back towards the campfire, leaving the still silent girl gawking.
"...Oh, and my name is King, by the way." King introduced himself, to which the girl merely nodded and walked away, leaving him to continue on the way back.
"Ah, you're back, master." Karna greeted, currently on watch.
"Yeah, just needed a little air." King replied, settling into his sleeping bag.
As King's drowsiness began to overtake him, he thought about Jean one more time.
Maybe he should've just let the girl go back to her hometown, Orleans is pretty dangerous right now, after all. But the girl seemed really determined, so how could he?
Sure, it's another thing to add to his to-do list, but it's not like it's some sort of arduous task. At most he'll talk to her a bit after he tells her the camp's location.
How hard could it be?
How did it become so hard?!
Did that bastard know all along?! Is that why he so conveniently appeared behind her just when she was about to kill him?!
Jeanne D'Arc took a long, deep breath.
'No, that's not possible. If he did, then he wouldn't have fallen to my deception.' She thought, rationality slowly easing back into her mind.
'...Shit, now I have to pretend I'm that bitch's little… sister, huh?' The thought was as hard to think of as it was to spit out mere minutes ago.
She thought of that bastard, King, who had unintentionally forced her into this corner.
She thought of going back and cleaving his head off his shoulders this very moment just to avoid the alternative: Going along with being Jean D'Arc.
The mere concept of pretending to be an adoring little sister to that woman sent shivers down her spine. The thought of doing it every night makes her execution look like child's play by comparison.
Yet as abhorrent as it sounded, she had no other choice. Even in her fury, she knew how much of a disadvantage she's in now that one of the enemy masters not only knew of her existence, but also expected it.
Going back now would certainly mean a one against eight in their favor, ending her altogether.
With a defeated sigh, Jeanne D'Arc made her way back to her own headquarters, her previously fiery steps now resembling burnt cinders.
She'll have to keep the facade until he shows an opening, annoyingly. Hopefully Gilles can help her with that.
"King… Just wait, you bastard!"
A sigh escaped the lips of Chaldea's director.
The command room bustled as the members of the graveyard shift slowly replaced the yawning staff, who conversed as they went to take a rest and prepare for tomorrow's shift.
A tight schedule, but how else could Chaldea operate with its current numbers?
Olga's fingers reached for the coffee cup on her desk, provided some hours ago that she couldn't recall.
A trace of warmth lingered on the cup still, even if it was a shadow of its comforting glory, enough to bring back feeling to her arms after sitting in this godforsaken room for ten something hours.
She, Romani, and Ryder had all decided to take turns sleeping to keep a leader figure active at all times. 2 hours each day. Extreme? Perhaps, but necessary.
Romani's upper body lay sprawled on his desk, a bit of drool visible on his gaping mouth as he let out quiet snores every moment or so, while Ryder had his feet rested on his, leaning back into his chair, looking no different from how he did awake.
…
Sip
'...Not enough sugar.'
The commune of La Charite was alive.
Perhaps not thriving, given the possibility for wyverns to appear at any given moment, but the men, women, and children of Orleans continued their day regardless.
What's a disaster to your daily life after all?
"M-Mooom! There's a scary person here!"
Nothing compared to three lines running down one's face apparently.
A cloaked man sighed as a young boy ran behind his mother, who apologized profusely towards him for her son's rude display.
The scarred man tugged the hood of his cloak, and turned away from the mother and child.
Seemingly not even registering the kid's reaction, he walked to a different place in the town.
Soon enough, he found himself in what seemed to be a marketplace with transactions happening aplenty.
Mothers were gossiping about the latest rumors as their hand reached for whatever needs to fill their tables that night, vendors endlessly tried to stop their customers from lowering the prices any more, and children navigated through the mazes of said transactions in their own worlds.
Yet, an edge of unease was present in these daily events.
The reason? Well, a group of ten strangers suddenly showing up in town in the middle of a dragon problem isn't exactly a comfortable sight.
In fact, The men and women of La Charite's market kept a close eye on the scarred man in their peripheral visions, taking notice of any sudden movements he might do.
Yet, that day's source of discord would not come from the newcomers.
"Watch out!"
The voice rang throughout the busy market and caused a domino of other terrified shrieks, prompting the man to turn his neck towards the source.
"NEIIGH!" A horse was rampaging in the market, breaking out of the wagon it carried and spilling its content onto the ground. As much as the nearby citizens tried to calm it down, the horse kept getting more agitated, to the point it started to run through the town.
…Right towards the cloaked man.
People in the market panickedly ran out of the horse's way, nearly knocking each other down in the process.
All except one.
The cloaked man in the middle of the road stood his ground as he stared down the berserk animal running straight towards him.
The citizens, even in their caution towards the man, shouted at him to move, not wanting to see a gory display in the middle of their day.
Yet he remained.
The thumps of the horse's hoofs echoed through the road, its sprint showing no signs of stopping.
Yet as it got closer to the man still standing in its path, another thumping sound overpowered the animal's own. The noise reached its ears and deep into its soul, so much so that the closer it got to the man, imaginary chains started to tug on its hind legs.
Recognizing its own inferiority, the horse whined and slowed down to a stop, its head hung low in front of the cloaked man.
"W-whoa! That guy just tamed that horse by looking at him!"
"Did you hear that sound? It came out of nowhere!"
The citizens talked in awe as they cautiously approached the cloaked man. Did he possess no fear? no sense of preservation? The crowd pondered endlessly as the man still stood unmoving.
'...W-what- What the hell was that?!'
No, of course not. Well maybe except about the no sense of preservation part.
King's heartbeat slowly died down as the horse was taken back by its owners back to its wagon, but his eyes still stared listlessly ahead.
He just got into this place and THIS is the first thing that greets him?
He was just minding his own business! He hadn't even started asking around for rumors about the dragons or whatever it is Jeanned told them to do!
'Monsters, undeads, dragons, but I damn near died to a horse.'
"U-umm, monsieur? Thank you for saving my child."
King turned to the voice, a young mother was holding her crying child as she thanked him. Seems like the kid was standing behind him all this time. King raised his eyebrows in recognition, the same mother and child from back then, he recalled.
"I-I must admit, I was wary of you myself, your group came into town during such a… tumultuous time. So if there is anything I can do to help you at all, monsieur, just say the word."
…Well at least there's a silver lining to all this.
"Any luck?"
"None, I fear."
Archer clicked his tongue at Karna's answer, letting his head lean into the wall of the narrow alley the servants had gathered in.
"That's a shame… None of us got any useful information, did we?" Kojiro asked rhetorically.
"I'm sorry everyone, I didn't think that the public would already be so on edge…" Jeanne apologized, lowering her head.
"Yeah, I guess ten people showing up all at once was too much, even if we're wearing disguises." Ritsuka said.
"Speaking of these disguises, These clothes are beautiful! Thank you, Lady Murasaki!" Jeanne said as she tugged on her new clothes, a modest yet elegant pair of beige skirt with a matching blouse and a brown vest.
"N-no, it's nothing… I-I mean, you're welcome, Lady Jeanne."
"...How did you learn magecraft, Miss Murasaki? You were a novelist, right?" Mash said, surprised.
"Oh, it's nothing much, really. It was just something I learned in passing from an acquaintance." Murasaki replied.
"Don't be so modest, Lady Murasaki! I think it's wonderful that you paid attention to details when creating my disguise!"
Jeanne and Mash laughed at Murasaki's stammers as she blushed furiously.
"...That's nice and all, but what do we do now? If this place isn't telling us anything, I can't see it being different anywhere else." Olga complained through the communicator.
"Well hold on now, director. King still isn't back, you know." Ritsuka pointed out.
Olga sighed. "Look, I know that he's a damn near miracle worker and all, but do you really think that people are going to open up to a face like that? Even someone like him has limi-"
"I got some info."
The deep voice of King turned the necks of everyone present, their reactions ranging from bemused stares to expectant smiles.
Olga's mouth froze agape for a brief moment, before she coughed into her hand. "...Alright, let's hear it then."
"...Paladins?"
"Well, that's what the people have been calling them, anyway." King answered to Cu Chulainn's bewilderment.
"So our impostor declared herself the revived Saintess and soon after, six warriors showed up alongside her, these paladins, is that right?" Archer clarified.
"Yeah, the people I talked with said they never actually saw them, though." King added.
"Sounds too convenient. Servants, maybe?" Olga raised the possibility.
"In all likelihood, yes. Seven servants, one ruler." Archer agreed.
"Seven?" Ritsuka said quizzically.
"Yes, if Ruler here is to be believed, then the knight accompanying our impostor is also a servant, isn't that right, Maid of Orleans?" Archer asked, turning to Jeanne.
Jeanne nodded. "I can't exactly use my ruler powers to their full extent, but the Gilles de Rais standing alongside her is a servant, not his living self."
"D-did they… dispose of the real Gilles to trick the masses?" Mash asked nervously.
"...I don't want to admit it, but it's likely." Jeanne said, her voice saddened by the dreaded possibility.
"So they got, what, eight servants total?" Cu Chulainn clicked his tongue. "Man, and I thought there was gonna be some actual challenge here!"
Archer sighed. "You do know that we aren't here to necessarily fight, right?"
"I still would've liked it to be harder!" Cu Chulainn complained leaning his back into the wall of the alley.
"No, Archer has a point, our primary target here is to fix history. With how much public opinion is siding with our impostor, a direct assault, even if we overwhelm them would be… problematic." Romani chimed in.
"Alright, I suppose we shouldn't lie around the same place for too long with a ruler as our enemy. Any ideas for the next destination, Lady Arc?" Kojiro asked.
"I believe there's another town near-"
CRASH
A resounding crash broke their quiet discussion.
A brief moment of total silence ensued. Neither servant, master, nor the town made even a breath as their necks were forcefully turned upwards by the sounds.
"D-DRAGONS!"
A terrified scream was all it took for the domino of despair to start falling.
A flood of bodies ran amok in La Charite.
Shops were left without their owners, homes left without their families, pets wailing for their masters as the very foundation of the centuries old part of France was burnt to ashes by fire.
Yet between the desperate shouts for loved ones and safety, some instead ran against the current, jumping from rooftops to rooftops.
Deftly, these rebels avoided the fire hailed by the wyverns flying above the town whilst striking them back, felling the beasts out of the sky as they went.
A blond woman among them glanced down to the streets, a look of abject horror flashing in her eyes at the chaos below her, before she closed them and steeled herself to move forward.
Soon, the ten made ground as the terrified shouts became a distant noise.
In front of them lay a sea of blackened objects, jutting out at irregular angles.
The young boy amongst them glanced downwards with sweat running down his cheeks to discover the objects' true nature.
Charred, disfigured bodies.
The boy made a retching noise as he emptied the contents of his stomach.
"S-Senpai?!" His purple haired companion yelled in worry, assisting him.
"T-thank y-you, M-Mash." Ritsuka barely said, his face still pale as he tried his best to avert his gaze from the still warm corpses. But as his eyes looked away, a stench of roasted meat hit him. It smelled familiar. Chicken? pork?
"No, this is-" He retched again before he could finish, tears welling up in his eyes, prompting another worried shout from Mash.
Not too far from him, Jeanne watched with blank eyes at the devastation, her eyes held in place by the macabre scene.
"So, you came out of hiding."
The voice rang akin to alarm bells in their heads, weapons drawn at a moment's notice.
A doppelganger stood at the opposite end of the street.
Blue eyes stared into each other, one frozen in disbelief, the other burning with animosity
For a moment, there was a discomforting ambience, only broken by the occasional sound of air entering the lungs.
"W-who are you and why are you doing this?!" Until it was broken by the Jeanne belonging to Chaldea, her voice tinged with panic and desperation.
Her reflection merely stared at the question, before a slight smirk appeared on her face. "Why, I'm you, of course."
"M-me? No, I-I would never do such a thing!"
"Well that's because I'm the more complete version of you, of course!" An uncanny cheer was present from the smiling Jeanne's voice.
"One that doesn't reject her hatred, but revels in it. One that doesn't sit in passivity while her own countrymen turned their backs on her, but one that exacts vengeance on them." Her cheery voice nearly turned into a sing-song voice as she gestured towards herself.
"I am Jeanne D'Arc."
"N-no! Y-you can't be…" 'W-was I always capable of this?'
"W-why attack this place, then?! La Charite never once turned its back on me!" The panicking Jeanne protested.
"Why?" Her other repeated while slowly walking towards the pile of corpses.
She stopped in front of the charred remains of a child, any distinguishing figures they might've had burned away black.
"Because, you see…" The still smiling 'Jeanne D'Arc' began to say as she lifted her foot above the head of the corpse.
"...all of France deserves to die for what they did."
Crunch
Steel crushed against bone, yet the noise did not sound like it belonged to a human anymore.
Jeanne D'Arc merely stared at the now headless remains of the child. For a moment, her mind went as blank as her eyes, before her mouth morphed into an uncharacteristic scowl.
Wordlessly, she leapt towards her other self, her flag pointed at the still calm ruler.
"ARRRTHUUURRRR!"
CRASH
"Gack!"
Jeanne felt the world spin and tasted iron on her tongue. She tried to gasp for breath, only to find an oppressive force constricting her windpipe.
She opened her eyes to find a red line on a black helmet glaring back at her and a clawed hand at her throat.
"AARRTHUUURRR…" The figure cloaked in darkness groaned as he tightened his grip on her neck, eliciting a cry of pain from the maiden.
"Ruler!"
A voice suddenly shouted alongside an impact that drove the figure away, causing Jeanne to fall to her knees as she coughed to regain her breathing.
"Can you stand?" Achilles asked, extending his hand.
"I-I'll manage." Jeanne answered, taking the hand and getting back on her feet.
Regaining her bearings, Jeanne stepped away from the wall she was pinned to and took in the sights. The previously lonesome form of her doppelganger was now flanked by several other figures.
Jeanne mentally counted the number of her other's reinforcements. One, two… eleven?!
Jeanne rubbed her eyes to clear her vision, yet nothing changed. Standing alongside her reflection were eleven other servants, more than what King had reported.
"...Big sis?" The green haired hero beside her whispered in shock.
Jeanne's vision followed the rider's gaze, landing on a female servant with cat ears wearing green. An archer, if her bow is anything to go by.
"You know him, Rider?" Archer asked, approaching the both of them with his eyes still trained on the enemies.
Reluctantly, Achilles nodded. "...Yes. She is Atalanta, Slayer of The Calydonian Boar… and the only servant I know that can match my speed."
"D-does anyone else recognize a servant from their lineup?" Ritsuka asked, his breath still labored from the shock of the burning bodies.
"I recognize two of them, master."
Karna's finger went towards a man with a dark coat and flowy white hair. "That is Vlad III, The Impaler."
His finger trailed to another, a dark skinned man with his chest out in the open, a glowing blue mark taking a sizable amount of it. "And that is Siegfried, Slayer of Fafnir."
"Siegfried?! As in the one from Nibelungenlied?!" Romani panicked over the comms.
"The very same." Karna answered with a smirk, his grip over his spear tightening.
"Huh, seems like this won't be so boring after all!" Cu Chulainn exclaimed, his crimson spear draped over his back.
A tense silence ensued on the battlefield, each servant brandishing their weapons, ready to lunge at their master's command.
Ritsuka's eyes glazed over the field. They were outnumbered, and perhaps outpowered as well, if Karna's reaction to Siegfried is any indication.
The young master gulped, but he tried to steel himself nonetheless. 'Right, calm down, Ritsuka. King is here too, isn't he? Surely you two could work something even in this condition.'
"...elp!"
A distant cry rocked Ritsuka out of his thoughts. He took a glance behind him, the source of the desperate voice. The silence had given way for the voices of La Charite to reach his ears.
"Those citizens… They're still in danger!" Ritsuka exclaimed.
Unseen by most, 'Jeanne D'Arc' sported a small smirk at the master's realization, a sign of her plan's success.
"And? What do you want to do about it?" Archer asked.
"Save them from the wyverns, of course!"
"And let the mastermind go?"
"W-we can't just leave them!"
A brief staring contest ensued between the master and servant, only broken up by the communicator. "...I understand Ritsuka. Take half of the servants with you." Romani said, his tone showing slight uncertainty.
Archer sighed and shook his head, but relented regardless.
"Thank you, doctor! Lancer, Assassin, Mash, I'll need your help!" Ritsuka requested, eliciting a grunt from Cu Chulainn and a nod from Kojiro.
"I trust you can handle it here, King." Romani said seriously, to which the tall man stayed stoic.
The group split evenly with Ritsuka's departure, something 'Jeanne' and her servants seem to not even register as they stayed in their positions.
"Hm, how should we engage, then?" Karna asked.
"Well, we went from being outnumbered to severely outnumbered, got any ideas master?" Achilles requested.
King stayed quiet for a while, until he showed his index finger in response.
"...You want us to just pick one each?"
"I see the logic, master. With each of us focusing on one servant only, we might just be able to wither their number down, but what about the rest?" Karna asked, slightly tilting his head.
Once again, his master's response came not with his voice, but his hand as he held his palm out, as if pushing Karna with an invisible force.
"...I see, I'll leave it to you then, master." Karna said in understanding, walking away from his master and towards battle.
"Uh, you sure about this, Lancer? Even if we take out one servant each, we're still leaving master open to seven more." Achilles raised his concern.
"Do not worry. If it's master King, he'll make it work." Karna responded with none of the same worry.
"...Well, if you say so." Achilles said, still unconvinced.
"U-um, who should we each go after, then?" Murasaki asked.
"Siegfried is a formidable opponent, one who could stand on even grounds with even myself. I'll take him on." Karna declared.
"...That archer, Big Sis Atalanta." Achilles curtly replied, his voice unusually somber.
"I have no idea why, but that knight clad in black seems to have something against me. I'll try and draw his ire." Jeanne said, looking to the servant who even now is still trying to lunge at her, only held back by two other servants, a woman wearing a mask, and another woman clad in holy clothes.
"W-well then, I'll take the woman with the really big… hat?" Murasaki said, looking at a woman who smiled brightly standing behind 'Jeanne'.
"Very well, then let us." Karna's form disappeared before anyone else could make a move, rushing towards his target.
In the blink of an eye, a thunderous clash between spear and sword happened, sending shockwaves that could be heard by even the farthest ends of the town.
"It is an honor to cross blades with you again, Slayer of Fafnir."
"It seems that you know who I am. I'm sorry I cannot provide you the same honor."
The casual tone of the conversation betrayed the destruction the simple meeting of the blades caused. Despite the pleasant talk, the two gave neither the edge, the air shaking from the strength of the two heroes.
"I suppose it is rather unfair. You could ask your ruler ally, if you want."
"If I were to hear your true name, hero, then I would much rather hear it from your own words."
The figures of the two combatants suddenly disappeared, the brief calm before the storm that lasted nary a second before instants of fire and blue light graced La Charite with a divine force it had never seen, destroying several buildings and lighting up the dark skies.
And then it stopped. The two heroes reappeared, now again visible to the human eye.
"I am Karna, Son of Surya."
"Well met, Hero of Charity. Now, let us see which of our blades shall pierce the other!"
King grimaced at the grisly sight.
In the 29 years he spent in a monster-infested world, disfigured corpses have become somewhat of a common sight, but even then it had never exactly become commonplace for him.
Still, he fared better than Ritsuka at least, who was still looking a little green in the face when he left.
Speaking of that…
What is he supposed to do now?
King took a moment to compose himself, taking a deep breath. Alright, they might be outnumbered and all, but he still had Karna right? Achilles too. Both demigods, so if he plays his card well enough, maybe they can survive this.
With that in mind, King racked his brain to find a way to at least not get slaughtered.
"Well, we went from being outnumbered to severely outnumbered, got any ideas master?"
King held up a finger to Achilles. He needed more time to think.
…
…
…
'...Yeah, I got nothing.'
Sure, he could tell Karna to hit skeletons or shadow servants here and there, but commanding four servants against ten?
Slowly, King's left hand started to reach towards Karna. Maybe he has some Noble Phantasm that can instantly win the battle? The things King read about him in that book were pretty bonkers after all.
"...Hm?"
…Where is Karna?
King slowly turned to face his servants.
'...Huh?'
…Where are his servants?
The four servants previously standing just beside him were now nowhere to be seen, barely leaving a sign of their presence.
CRASH
BOOM
CLANG
King's answer came in the form of multiple flashes of power, pillars of fire, and the clanging of steel.
'Oh, so they went ahead without me.' King thought in relief. Seems like he didn't even need to do anything this time.
King squinted his eyes at the ongoing battles. '...Hold on.'
Weren't there twelve of them? So why are they only fighting one-on-one?
An uncomfortable lump suddenly appeared in King's throat, accompanied by a sinking feeling coming juuust from his peripheral.
Just as slowly as he turned his neck before, he returned his gaze back to where 'Jeanne D'Arc' was, painfully forcing his throat to swallow that lump of fear.
Eight pairs of eyes stared back at him.
"This is our chance, my lady."
The eyes of 'Jeanne D'Arc' burned holes into the man standing in solace across her, a river of burnt bodies separating them.
When she reported back the results of her assassination attempt, Gilles expressed his disappointment but assured her that the chance to take his life will come again.
Sooner than later as it turns out.
She still didn't quite grasp as to why Gilles wanted the man to die so soon, so badly, but if it meant that would no longer have to resort to the humiliating act of pretending to be her own little sister, then she would gladly partake in his plan.
"Is this supposed to be an insult?" The woman bearing a mask on her face made her ire known, rhythmically tapping her heels on the ground.
"Calm yourself, Assassin. Though I must admit that being so looked down upon boils my blood, we must not act careless." The white haired man beside her persuaded, though one could see that his grip upon his lance tightened in anger.
"And let ourselves be humiliated? I thought better of you, Count Dracula."
"Call me by that name again and I shall show you why it came to be, Elizabeth Bathory."
"This is not the time to be bickering with ourselves!" 'Jeanne' barked. She carefully glanced behind her, specifically at the oddly dressed musician. He seemed to barely notice the scuffle, instead focusing on the fight his rider companion is currently having. Good.
"If both of you feel so slighted, then feel free to put that man down, but we have no time for infighting." Gilles rebuked.
"Hmph, very well. I will let this man's corpse be a warning to his companions." The lancer, Vlad III, said.
"Do let me taste his blood first, preferably while he's alive." The assassin, Carmilla, gleefully requested.
"...Go."
The one word of command was all the two servants needed to pounce the scarred man, who, even faced with the threat of two blood-drinking legends, stood unmoving, arms crossed.
Truthfully, 'Jeanne' was getting slightly unnerved. Surely, no human can match the strength and experience of two servants? She admits that his intuition is above even some servants, but what good will that do against her berserk servants?
Yet his feet remain rooted, a mountain amongst corpses.
Shaking off the absurd possibility, she watched as her lancer and assassin closed in on the man, their weapons drawn and pointed at him.
'Jeanne' couldn't contain the smile slowly creeping up on her cheeks. She will enjoy watching this man's corpse be torn apart as he begs for merciful death and his long, raspy, pitiful death throes with glee. It's the least he deserves for having her put up with the humiliation of lowering herself in front of him.
The two mad servants ran unimpeded, unbothered by their target's lack of survival instincts, their weapons aimed at his chest and stomach respectively.
Eventually, the tip of Vlad's spear and Carmilla's staff touched him-
"STOP!"
-and moved no further.
Prince and countess both froze solid.
As did the city of La Charite for a brief moment.
All because of one word of command.
Vlad could not believe himself. Did a mere human just stop him by words, nay, word alone?
Carmilla felt anger. How could she forget her thirst, even for a moment, because of a simple act?
Yet these feelings did not translate to action, as the three figures stood still, not a hair swaying. It was as if a painting brought to life.
'...No, it was just a fluke.' Vlad reassured himself.
'What am I doing?!' Carmilla berated herself.
But these thoughts crumbled upon the sensation of a hand on their shoulders.
"...Stay. Your. Weapons."
Shivers ran down their spines.
His voice did not necessarily contain conviction. It was neither a threat nor promise.
It carried nothing.
Which was exactly why Carmilla and Vlad could not help but comply.
It was a statement of fact. They will drop their weapons.
The three stood in silence yet again, all signs of previous hostility gone, yet a lingering tension remained.
Wordlessly, Chaldea's master walked past the two still stunned in place and towards the rest of 'Jeanne's' ensemble.
For a while, he did nothing but stare, his eyes stone cold and sharp, piercing through 'Jeanne's' own.
'Jeanne' could not stop the small twitch under her eyes, nor the slight tremble on the edges of her lips.
It was mere words, but for a moment, it shook her to her core. For a moment, she believed that he could crush them without lifting a finger.
The fact that she even had to admit frustrated her to no end. She couldn't simply blame her servants' incompetence or even their berserk states, because she too, was affected.
'...But that's all it is.' A momentary lapse of judgment and weakness, one that could be rectified with but a simple command.
"Assassin, Lancer, finish hi-"
"Patience, false saint."
Her order was cut short by the scarred man's declaration.
Her lips twitched in annoyance. What is it this time?
"Hmph, I see you yourself is none the wiser to the truth, saint." King said, the slight smug tone piercing her eardrums.
"...The truth, you say? And what is that exactly?"
A chuckle. "Why don't you ask your right hand man, instead?"
.'My right hand man?' 'Jeanne' turned to one of her servants, the only one that fitted the description.
Gilles stared at the accusation, unimpressed and unmoved.
"And you know of this… 'truth' of mine?" Gilles asked after a while.
"Of course, do you really need me to spell it out?"
The non-answer infuriated 'Jeanne' even more than she thought possible. "If you know something, then out with it already!" She yelled, biting back several… unsanitary words for the sake of appearances.
"...Six."
"What?"
"I know about the six." King said with confidence, as if it answered any of 'Jeanne's' questions.
"And if you don't watch yourself… I will be the seventh."
…
'What… the fuck is he talking about?!' It took all of 'Jeanne's' willpower not to scream her thoughts out to the world.
All that talk, all that nonsense, was it just to buy time? Is that it?
'Jeanne' took a deep breath to calm herself. She changed her mind, she will no longer order Lancer and Assassin to kill him.
She will turn the seconds this man wasted of her second life to hours of torture before his life ends.
"...Lancer, Assassin, capt-"
"Wait, my lady!"
Gilles' sudden request cut her order off.
"...Let us retreat."
"What?"
'It can't be…' Did that incoherent rambling actually mean something?
"If we don't… It might spell the end of our plans." Gilles said, his knightly facade on the verge of breaking.
Stunned, she could only nod at the plea. Was what that man said really so groundbreaking?
"...Very well. All units, retreat!"
"Hm? …I'm sorry, it seems our battle must be postponed."
"It is alright. I would prefer it if we could fight somewhere less populated next time."
The casual exchange belied the ruined buildings and shimmering dust of their clash. In a strange way, the two were like old war buddies, the destruction serving as banter.
"Thank you, Hero of Charity. Though, I must say, it is a shame that you fight under such a violent reason."
"Is that how it seems to you, Slayer of Fafnir?"
"Oh? Are you implying otherwise?"
Karna chuckled. "I doubt anything I say will convince you. Until then, may we meet again."
A look of reluctance flashed over Siegfried's eyes. "...Likewise."
With that, Siegfried retreated, jumping away to his allies.
"Hmm… Master King must've done his part already." Karna said, amused but not surprised at his master's success.
"AAARRRTHUUURRR!"
"Ugh!"
Jet black sword clashed against metal pole, sparks flying as Jeanne gritted her teeth. Her hands shook to their bones trying to ward off the assault, her elbows bending every second of the fight.
With a cry, Jeanne just barely managed to divert the attack, the ground crumbling as the berserker's sword crashed against it.
Before the armored figure could move, Jeanne planted the tip of her banner on top of his sword, blue light emanating from the flag wrapped around the pole.
"Hyah!" With another cry, Jeanne swung her weapon to her enemy's head, only for him to catch it.
"AAAHHH!" The shrill scream muffled through the berserker's helmet was the last thing Jeanne heard before the world spun around her.
CRASH
Jeanne found her vision assaulted by pure chaos as she felt herself flung past several walls, her flesh searing up and her bones cracking against cement.
Her unintended travels ended with a hard thud, blood once again pooling in her mouth as she felt her back indent itself on the wall of a building.
Jeanne's breaths came out as heavy gasps with a scent of iron. Her shaky legs tried their best to support her bloody figure while she brought her twitching hands to wipe the blood out of her eyes.
She couldn't fight this berserker on equal footing, she knew that from the very moment she decided to take him on by herself, but the sheer enthusiasm this figure had in killing her left her astounded.
"...thurrr…" The distant voice snapped Jeanne out of her thoughts.
Jeanne gathered herself and straightened her stance. She might be completely outclassed as a fighter, but with her Noble Phantasm, she should be able to hold on long enough for the others to come and assist her.
Jeanne took a deep breath as crimson red light illuminated the dust from the broken buildings. She didn't expect to have to use her Noble Phantasm this early, but with these circumstances…
"O' Flag, protect my people! Luminosité Eter-"
"AAAHHHH!"
Jeanne's chant stopped as her enemy stopped a few meters away from her, held by two other servants.
"Stop at once, Berserker. Our master has ordered a retreat." The white haired man Jeanne recognized from before said.
"My, my… Does she resemble someone you know, Knight of The Lake?" The masked woman taunted her own ally.
'Knight of The Lake?' Jeanne mentally noted down the nickname. Maybe the Chaldeans would know better.
"Hmph, do not think you will be so lucky as to have that blonde man save your hide next time, virgin."
"V-virgin?!" Jeanne's offense to the remark received no response as the three servants left, the armored figure still screaming for 'Arthur' while glaring at her on the way.
Left by herself, Jeanne slumped down, letting out a sigh of relief.
Still, did they say that King made them retreat? She did have the impression that he was strong, simply from the way he carried himself. But to think that he, a human, somehow drove eleven servants away, even if it wasn't by force…
Just who is he?
A green light flew across the sky. If one witnessed it from below, they might mistake it as a shooting star, a symbol of good or bad luck, depending on the person.
Another similar, yet markedly different light was there as well, heading on a collision course with the other. And soon, it would be apparent that these twin shooting stars represent neither good or bad luck, but a clash of divine proportions.
First, impact.
Then, silence.
Yet, that silence only applied to the ears, as the sky momentarily turned green as the two lines went disarray, turning into lines and projectiles which destroyed the ground below. The shockwave came only after they abruptly stopped, sweeping through the town of La Charite.
"...You're just as fast as ever, sis."
"Do we know each other?"
Achilles reeled slightly at the response. The Greek heroine had always been curt and professional, sure, but there was an edge in her voice that was foreign to how she usually talked.
"You're fast, I'll give you that, but-"
Faster than any human and even most servants could react, Atalanta notched three arrows and fired them at Achilles' head.
But Achilles is an exception even among servants, easily deflecting two of the incoming projectiles and catching one with his bare hands.
The rider paid no mind to the attack, however. 'She could fire this way faster.'
"-we'll have to continue this another time." Atalanta's voice rang, her figure already out of sight.
"Sure. I'll beat you in a footrace next time, too."
Achilles could no longer hear nor see her, but somehow he knew that she heard him.
The imagined reaction on her face brought a smile to Achilles' face.
"Hohoho, you are very elegant, Caster!"
"T-thank you… N-no, I mean, prepare yourself!"
The white haired woman simply laughed as her glass horse deftly jumped around, avoiding the curses sent her way by Murasaki.
In response, the rider sent a blast of pink energy down Murasaki's way, seemingly conjured out of her mouth,
In quick succession, Murasaki wrote several words on the air, each turning into curses and stopping her enemy's attacks dead in the air. She might not have the agility that her opponent's horse provided, o-or any agility at all for that matter, but in terms of magecraft, she is far superior.
"...Oh? Seems like we have to end our girl's talk early!"
"G-girl's talk?" The absurdity of the rider's statement halted Murasaki's brush. Though thankfully, it seemed that the white haired woman had also stopped fighting.
"Yes! I mean, I was speaking words while you were writing them, so what else could it be?"
The pure, innocent answer stunned Murasaki.
"Let's do this again sometimes. My true name is Marie Antoinette, by the way. I much prefer being called that over 'Rider'!"
"P-pleased to meet you, Lady Antoinette. I am Murasaki Shikibu." Murasaki replied before she could think any further.
"I see! See you later, Lady Shikibu, or can I call you Murasaki? Oh well, let's talk about it later!" With that, Marie Antoinette retreated.
'...Did I just reveal my true name?'
'...That worked?'
King stood on the road for what felt like hours, his arms crossed to stop his body from shaking, watching as the servants regrouped one by one and eventually left the town.
For a moment, he had made peace with his death. The impostor Jeanne didn't really seem to buy it at first, he saw her face twitching very unpleasantly as he spouted off random things to buy time.
Thankfully, for whatever reason it seemed like her knight ordered a retreat instead. King doubted that it was something he said, though. 'Man, why did I say all that six and seven stuff?' His mind was going at lightspeed when 'Jeanne' pressed him. Unfortunately, he isn't smart enough to actually keep up with the speed of his mind.
Was it because it was Saturday in Chaldea?
"Good job, master."
"H-huh? Oh, r-right. You too, Karna."
The lancer was soon joined by the rest of King's unit, Jeanne particularly in a state of disarray.
"L-Lady Jeanne! Are you alright?" Murasaki worriedly shouted, preparing several spells in the form of writings on the air.
"A-ah, don't worry about it, Lady Murasaki. Magecraft of any kind doesn't work on me. Just- let me rest for a bit." Jeanne reassured, though the wince in her eyes was rather unconvincing.
"Whew! So you took on the rest of em and won, huh, master?" Achilles whistled, impressed.
"...No, they just shot themselves in the foot, I guess." King replied as best he can, still confused by their enemies' earlier display.
"Shot themselves in the foot trying to fight you, right?" Achilles joked with a hearty laugh.
'...Not what I meant.'
"You guys alright? Apparently the other team already finished with their dragonslaying, so you all should be able to regroup and discuss soon enough." Romani informed from the comms.
"...Not to burst your bubble, doc, but it doesn't seem like we're finished." Achilles said, pointing to a direction.
Following his finger, King's mind went from confused to awe and finally settling in towards disgusted.
The charred, disfigured, barely holding together corpses of La Charite's people started getting up one by one. The undeads' gait was unnatural, even more so than the skeletons in the last singularity, like a puppet running on strings.
"Necromancy?!" Romani exclaimed, almost knocking his seat to the ground in shock.
"It seems our enemies have more tricks under their sleeve. If you will, master?" Karna requested King's orders.
'Well, if it's just undead then it shouldn't be too hard.' Still, unlike those skeletons, these were actually people. Hell, some of them still kinda have faces!
King's nose turned up slightly at the sight. Hopefully his servants can give them a quick death, at least.
"...W-why would she- no, I, go this far?" Jeanne whispered, her voice washed with disbelief with a hint of sadness.
She gazed at the slowly approaching undead and steeled herself. "...Worry not, I'll put you all to rest."
Jeanne rushed towards the horde before King could give any orders, her flag smashing into bodies, what used to be their flesh, crumbling into dust.
The way the dust scattered into the wind tricked King's eyes for a moment. In that moment, the corpses were more carbon then human. What used to be people, families, now could enter his lungs, as if the lives they lived didn't matter.
King grimaced as he prepared his orders.
'This is… really uncomfortable.'
"What? The dead have risen?"
"Yes! Romani just confirmed it with me. King drove the enemies away, but the burnt corpses rose and are currently attacking him and the others!"
Olga's panicked voice served to quicken Archer's steps, Ritsuka's grip on his shoulders tightening in response.
'Did the director just say those corpses got up again?' Ritsuka's mind went back to that sight. Bodies unceremoniously stacked on top of one another, faces missing features, blending into one another as a mass of burnt flesh, the people they used to be erased.
"...Hurk!" The young master suppressed another bile down his throat, unnoticed by his servants, save for a cursory glance by the man carrying him across town.
A slight thud on his torso signifies their arrival. "T-thanks, Archer."
The servant in question didn't answer, merely crossing his arms and gazing ahead. Following his servant, Ritsuka saw a familiar scene.
"There, Lancer! Assist Jeanne, Caster. Rider, some of them on your three!"
King, his fellow master, gave out orders as if it was second nature, just like how he did back then in Singularity F. Undead fell one after the other, the dust of their charred forms coloring the air he breathed in.
Ritsuka gulped in awe, but also in frustration. He had gotten better in the few days since his first go-around, courtesy of Archer and the other servants.
But compared to that, why is he even doing this?
Is there really a need for a second master of Chaldea?
Crunch
An unpleasant sound of metal bursting through blackened flesh pierced Ritsuka's ears. Jeanne D'Arc stared listlessly at the remnants of the dead, her flag flying through their body.
"T-The Witch! It's The Witch!"
The terrified yell turned Ritsuka's attention. The survivors of La Charite slowly trickled into the street, greeted by the carnage that had transpired between Jeanne and her doppelganger.
And in the forefront of that carnage was Jeanne D'Arc, honored soldier, saintess, and hero.
But reflected in the eyes of terrified children in the crowd was a murderer, disgracing the corpse of their friends and families.
"A-are our lives not enough for you?" A fearful question arose from the crowd.
Jeanne's mouth briefly opened, before closing, her teeth gnashing on her lips.
"Please… Please, just let us mourn for now." A man croaked out, cradling the head of one of the walking corpses.
The sight awoke something in Ritsuka. In that singular moment, he was reminded that these pieces of charred flesh were once human. Wives, husbands, children, friends and loved ones.
He knew this, of course, from the moment he laid his eyes on the impostor's victims, but the sight of tears falling into the desecrated, fading remains made it all so… real.
Back then, his gut lurched and he almost vomited, but now Ritsuka only felt a void where his gut should be. A foreboding, unpleasant emptiness.
The accused servant said nothing, instead simply turning her back to the grieving crowd and walked away.
Thud
A stone flew against Jeanne's head. It didn't cause much damage by itself, but it was enough to open a prior wound, blood trickling down her cheek.
"Andre! Stop that!"
"B-but she- she- she killed my friends!"
The father held the child back with his arms, the boy's feet moving in a futile attempt to run and fight against 'The Witch'.
Jeanne, God knows how, Ritsuka thought, continued to ignore the boy's cries and walked away.
"...We should go, master." Archer said. Ritsuka turned to his first servant, the man's eyes had a glint of pity yet understanding directed towards the ruler's back.
"It'd do us no good to stay here any longer."
Ritsuka weakly nodded to Archer's words and followed Jeanne out of La Charite, with his fellow master and servants following suit, leaving the commune to wail and curse, in grief and anger.
With that, Chaldea's first mission in France ended in failure.
"I must say, Jeanne! That was a splendid display back then!"
"A-aha, no, Mademoiselle Antoinette, it was merely by good fortune that our enemies decided to pull back not too long after we did."
"Non! It was surely the words you had with the enemy commander, isn't that right?"
"You flatter me, Mademoiselle Antoinette, but-"
"Non! That won't do!"
"I-I'm sorry?"
"Marie! Simply call me Marie, Jeanne, like the sheep!"
"...Right, Marie." 'Jeanne' said with her teeth gritted behind her lips.
"Either way, I'm sure whatever you said to that scary gentleman scared him off enough to call the attack on that poor commune, right, Amadeus?" Marie Antoinette asked her pale companion.
"Hm? Well, to be frank, I was too enchanted by the way you fought that caster, Marie. But I'm sure that must be the case if you say so." Her companion, Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, agreed.
'Jeanne' simply smiled at the praise, which Marie took as confirmation. "See! No need to be so modest, Jeanne."
She wanted to kill these people so goddamn bad.
But unfortunately they're important to the plan Gilles had laid out, so Jeanne settled with directing her rage to her nails digging into her palms.
"Well, Jeanne. It's been nice talking with you, but Amadeus, Siegfried, and I would like to explore France a bit more, maybe help eliminate some wyverns as well!" Marie said, getting up from her seat.
"Say, why don't we meet again tomorrow, officiate our alliance in vanquishing that witch!"
"...Sure."
"Thank you, Jeanne, I can't wait!"
'Trust me, I can wait forever.' 'Jeanne' thought, feeling far more anger than she thought could possibly be directed at one person.
"Oh, and say hello to Charlie from me, alright?"
With that, Marie left with Amadeus and Siegfried, waving her hand excitedly at 'Jeanne'. The ruler could only force a smile and respond with a weak wave of her own, though thankfully enough to put a wide smile on Marie's face as she went along her way.
As the three figures disappeared into the horizon, 'Jeanne' let out a long, relieved, and frustrated sigh.
"...It's quite fortunate that we met them before those Chaldeans did." Gilles commented from beside her, the setting sun reflecting off his metal armor.
"You think so? All I see is an annoying girl, her blind follower, and a guy who can't stop apologizing." 'Jeanne' replied, sarcasm dripping out of her mouth.
"Regardless, it's better if they think those from Chaldea are destroying France, even if it means we have to keep up the facade even more."
'Jeanne' let out a frustrated growl. Can't she just be herself for one second?! Now she has to deal with being the saintess in front of the soldiers and that damn rider! Not to mention…
'Jeanne' gulped. '...No, it's not nighttime, yet. There's still time.' The circular item hanging off her waist did not support her thoughts.
"...Say, what was that about, huh? Why did we even retreat back then? We had him?!" 'Jeanne' angrily asked her disguised caster. She trusted his plans, sure, everything had been going smoothly because of them, but she could've-
"...It has something to do with my plans, my lady."
"Oh yeah? And what is that?"
"I believe I can help answer that."
The newcomer's voice was answered with the tip of 'Jeanne's' pole touching his neck, though if he reacted to it, he didn't show.
"Who are you?" 'Jeanne' immediately interrogated.
"Calm down, my lady. This here is a benefactor of ours, one that is integral to our plans."
'Jeanne' kept her weapon on the man's neck for a while longer. The man wore a cloak that covered most of his form, the only sign of his person being his uncovered, snow white hands.
Finally, 'Jeanne' lowered her weapon.
"Aha, thank you for your hospitality, my lady. My name is Bune." The man, Bune, introduced himself. His voice was gravely, something 'Jeanne' would expect from an elderly man in the twilight of his life, but the man in front of her was anything but.
"...Is this true, Gilles?"
"Yes, and back to your question before, this man here is part of our plan, five days from now, to be exact."
"Five days? You mean-"
"Yes, what that man, King, said back then must've meant that he knew that we are going to execute the crux of our plan on the sixth day from now."
'Is that so?' Once again another part of their plans was uncovered by this man, without any clue to how he knew.
Just who is he?
"Either way, this changes little. I'm sure you must be confused, so let me explain what Gilles and I have been working on." Bune said.
"...So you are planning to summon that dragon?"
"Correct."
"What about that saber? Isn't he that dragon's killer?"
"We'll simply arrange his death before we summon it."
'Jeanne' nodded along to the explanation. As always with Gilles, it was a sound plan with little flaws, but something is still nagging her…
"Why didn't you say anything, Gilles?" 'Jeanne' asked, a dirty glance shot at her caster.
"I meant to tell you today regardless, my lady. We had finalized the plan just today, in fact." Gilles answered.
Fair answer, 'Jeanne' thought. Does that mean that master somehow found out immediately? As Gilles said, then, he needs to be gone as soon as possible.
"Well, I'll begin the preparations. Worry not, my lady, I won't disappoint." Bune said, taking his leave.
As the cloaked man left, 'Jeanne' noticed darkness had seeped into the day, turning it into night. An innocent gesture by the God who abandoned her, but this time…
Beep Beep
…something deeply unfortunate followed it.
"I believe it's time, my lady."
"..."
"Oh, hey Jean, you're here."
Somebody kill her now.
Hey
I have learned that I have no restraint when I write things.
I tell myself "oh quick 100 word transitional paragraph" and it turns into a 500 word section.
Anyway, sorry that it took so long (again). I did say that I can't promise this chapter would come out quicker, but I still feel like I failed somehow. The bad news is that I still can't say if the next chapter will come quicker. The good news is that I think I'm close enough to mapping this whole arc out.
As for Bune, he's not an oc, actually. That's all I'm going to say for now.
Also if that last section felt like it was written by someone on rush hour, that's because I was rushing it like a madman. Sorry, but also I can't really put in the effort anymore.
Later
Updated 08/05/2024: I forgot about Sanson lmao