A flame burned through the night.
A fire in the middle of the night typically brought safety and warmth, yet the eyes that looked into it had nothing in them but defeat and frustration.
An uncomfortable silence permeated through the camp, the air hung thick around the ten that surrounded the fire.
"...So, that was a mess, huh?" Cu Chulainn dryly commented, breaking the silence.
"You got anything to say other than the obvious, lancer?" Archer shot back with an annoyed glance.
"Well, no, but we gotta think of something! Yo, masters, say something!" The blue lancer said, turning his attention to the two masters sitting across each other, huddling the campfire.
"Eh? Well, uh, I… er…" Ritsuka stuttered for a moment, before his face fell into his hands in frustration.
"..." King stayed stoically silent, looking deep in thought.
"...I'll recap the situation." Mash spoke up.
"We started the day by heading to La Charite in disguise to find further information on the wyvern attacks and the impostor's actions since her arrival in France. But before we could gather anything significant, our impostor attacked the commune with her dragons and 'paladins'."
"Then, we split apart to take care of the wyverns and the servants, and though mister King and the others drove away the enemy servants, the dead bodies around the area attacked them. Unfortunately, the citizens saw Jeanne laying one of them to rest and, well…" Mash trailed off, a sympathetic look cast towards the aforementioned ruler.
The blonde said nothing. She gazed into the fire as its embers flew up into the night sky, none of them reflected in the ruler's sunken eyes.
"Damn! I knew this wasn't going to be easy, but to think our firepower could be so easily neutered…" Olga Marie said in frustration, her form flickering through the hologram.
"...Let's talk about what we gathered from our 'paladins' at least." Romani suggested.
"I fought with their archer, big sis Atalanta, but something felt… strange about her." Achilles informed.
"Perhaps your approach with women needs more tact, Lord Achilles." Kojiro suggested, not an ounce of malice in his voice.
"No, no! Even when she rejected me, she wasn't that cold!"
"So you don't deny your poor courtship."
"My foe was Siegfried, he was as strong as I remembered him to be. Though he does not remember, I fell to his hands last time we met." Karna reminisced, the very slightest glint of passion showing in his eyes.
"You… lost?" Ritsuka asked, fear washing over his eyes.
"Yes, but worry not, master. A battle between two warriors is never so straightforward that I am fated to lose again." Karna reassured, the passion seeping into his voice.
"As for me, the girl I fought identified herself actually. Marie Antoinette, I believe." Murasaki informed.
"Marie Antoinette, The Last Queen of France before the revolution happened… Is she perhaps in leagues with the impostor to destroy this country?" Olga raised a question, visibly rubbing her chin with her finger.
"Umm… This might sound strange since I'm talking about an enemy, but she sounded… friendly? She even asked me for my name after she introduced herself. …A-and I gave her my true name! Hawawa… I'm sorry everyone!"
"Don't sweat it. Our enemy is a ruler. She probably already know our true names." Achilles said.
"O-oh, right…"
"I didn't get my enemy's name, unfortunately. Though, if it's any help, he was a knight in black that constantly screamed 'Arthur' at me." Jeanne spoke up for the first time in a while.
"...He screamed 'Arthur', you say?" Archer asked carefully.
"Yes, Archer. Do you know a heroic spirit like that?"
Archer said nothing and held his arms out, the air in front of him began to hum and crackle slightly, magical energy rippling in the vague shape of a word. Eventually, a sword indeed manifested in his hands. It had a few notches on its blade which is adorned with gold down to its crossguard.
"Did his sword look like this, perhaps?"
"Y-yes it did! Though, his was black rather than silver." Jeanne said, shocked at the display.
"This is Arondight, the sword of Lancelot du Lac." Archer let out a sigh. "Just our luck."
"So we have Atalanta, Siegfried, Marie Antoinette, Lancelot, and if what I heard from King's comms is correct, Vlad III and Carmilla. Other than that we have the other Jeanne and Gilles de Rais, along with two servants who we don't know of." Olga concluded.
"T-the odds sure are stacked against us, huh?" Romani nervously said.
"Not to mention, France still believes our impostor is the real Jeanne D'Arc who rose from the dead and that we are the ones responsible for their dragon problem." Olga added, burying her head into her palms and letting out a frustrated growl.
"Where are we even supposed to go from here?" Mash asked no one in particular.
And no one answered.
For a while, anyway.
"Berserk."
"Huh?!" Mash looked for the source of the unfamiliar voice, her fingers tightening on her shield.
Eventually, she realized that the light voice came from the same place Olga and Romani's did.
James Ryder spoke for the first time since they met him.
"Oh. So, you can talk."
"Romani, how did you not know he can talk?! We put him in this position for God's sake! Were you watching that weird show of yours while I was working?!"
The man in denim ignored his colleagues' squabbles and lazily punched in a few commands to his computers. Instantly, the comms displayed rather complex images that were indecipherable to the laymen, but one of the images stuck out to Mash, Olga, and Romani.
"These are… Saint Graphs?"
James didn't verbalize his answer, instead opting to slowly point out several parts of the Saint Graph.
"W-what are these?! Madness enhancements?! On servants other than berserkers?!" Olga asked frantically, getting up out of her seat.
"No, wait… I believe I sensed it too, briefly. I could not tell with Sir Lancelot as he was already a berserker, but even with my limited abilities I could feel something wrong with the other servants." Jeanne said after mulling it over.
"I see… So the other Jeanne's servants are imbued with berserker traits is that it? It would support the theory that The Holy Grail is in her hands." Romani said.
"That'd explain how Big Sis Atalanta was acting too…" Achilles said.
"Aren't you just saying that so that it's not because of your behavior towards her?" Archer said, which went unheard as the rider was too absorbed in thought.
"Not all." James' voice beckoned the others attention again, as he pointed to three Saint Graphs.
"These Saint Graphs, they have the designation of rider, saber, and caster… and they lack the others' berserker traits!" Romani said, as if he solved a big mystery.
"Hang on, that would make seven Saint Graphs that are modified… Does that mean that the other three aren't actually the other Jeanne's servants?" Ritsuka raised the possibility.
A very, very, slight, almost imperceptible nod came from the head of rayshift operations served as answer enough.
"I believe the grail might have summoned them due to the unnatural route this Holy Grail War has taken, a counteraction, if you will." Jeanne added.
"But instead they've been tricked by the fakes, haven't they?" Ritsuka said.
"...I think I need some time to come up with how to go next, but I promise I'll have one by the time you wake up. Thank you for the help, Ryder, and good night to all of you in France." Olga said, fatigue seeping into her voice before the comms shut down.
In Chaldea, Olga Marie Animusphere leaned back into her chair, the bags under her lids not taking away the resolution in her eyes.
It's not pretty or smooth, but something resembling a path finally showed itself.
The sound of rustling grass was starting to annoy King.
In fairness, it was technically because he was walking on them, but that didn't make the crushing noise any less grating in his ears.
Still, he couldn't help but walk around the camp aimlessly. One day isn't enough to get used to outdoors sleeping, apparently.
How the hell does Ritsuka do it?
Well, not like he can afford to fall asleep right now, anyway. He still had one last thing to do, though he needed to kill time first before he could do it.
"Ah, good evening, master. Is something bothering you?"
Murasaki's voice snapped King out of his autonomous stroll. The caster smiled at him while Jeanne sat beside her on a repurposed tree log.
"Hm? Well, not exactly, there's just something I need to do before going to sleep."
"I see, then if you have some spare time, may I invite you to sit with us?" Murasaki asked, gesturing to another log across the pair.
It sure beats walking around until it's time, so he might as well.
King sat down on the hard wood with a grunt. "Alright, so what were you two talking about?"
"Not much, truthfully. I just sat down here myself. Though, I'd like to ask Miss Jeanne about French literature. Just a little." Murasaki admitted.
"So, uh, miss Jeanne? Could you tell me about some of your favorite books?"
"..."
The saintess's mouth stayed still, her eyes hidden by the shadow of her hair. The silence grew uncomfortable as seconds ticked away. Sweat was starting to pour from King's forehead. It was a pretty innocent question, so what's the tension all about?
"Um… I can't read, Lady Murasaki."
"O-oh! I-I'm so sorry! Y-your wounds must've been more serious than it looks-" The Japanese servant started to apologize profusely, sneaking in a few head bows in between words.
"N-no! …What I meant is, I… don't know how to read." Jeanne admitted, her head hung slightly.
King's eyebrows raised in surprise. 'Huh, that was kinda unexpected.' Seems like class divide is pretty big in this time if someone like Jeanne D'Arc couldn't afford to learn how to read.
Murasaki fell into even more apologetic ramblings, the babble coming out of her mouth becoming an incoherent mix of "I'm sorry" and "How could I", while the younger girl tried to reassure her that it was nothing.
'...Hold on.'
"...Miss Murasaki, do you have any books written in France?"
"Eh?" Murasaki stopped her apology tirade and stared quizzically at the request.
"You can summon books you've read before, right?"
"W-well, yes. Coincidentally, I asked for a book back in that fort from the soldiers too. Though, it is just a training manual." Murasaki nervously answered, said book materializing in her hands.
'Manuel du soldat pour les tâches courantes' it read.
"D-do you know French, master?" Murasaki asked, lending him the book.
King chuckled as he took the book and gazed at its cover, a rather simple assortment of the title accompanied by several symbols of the French army. He flipped the book open and landed on its opening pages, a few humble paragraphs, all written in French.
He doesn't have a single damn clue on what any of it meant.
But…
"Would you like me to teach you, Miss Jeanne?"
"E-eh?"
He does know how to read it.
"A-are you sure, Monsieur King? Are there not more important matters in your hands?" Jeanne asked, her form scooting closer to King betraying her words.
"No, not really. It'd be a big help if our main guide on France can read the language, no?" King said.
He had focused more on how to read rather than memorize as many French words as he could. He thought it all went to the drain with the translator device, but ha! Seems like it was fruitful after all!
"...I see. I'm sorry for the trouble. If only I wasn't born a village bumpkin…"
"It's fine if you can't." King reassured.
"Hm?"
"I mean, sure, you're summoned to be the savior of France and even before that, you already had to take up the mantle…"
Why don't you just become strong?
"...That doesn't mean you have to fulfill all the requirements, you know? It's fine to have holes here and there and still work on it, even if it's something like learning how to read." King finished.
Well, not like he's in any place to talk.
A chuckle, then a soft, but clear laughter.
"Ahaha, I'm sorry for laughing, but you're right, it really is like that, isn't it?" Jeanne said.
'Well, at least it cheered her up a bit.'
"I-I see, as expected of someone as scholarly as you, master." Murasaki praised, a glimmer of admiration present in her eyes.
"No, it's just something I heard from a friend. Besides, it's not like I have reached what I needed to yet." King said, internally wincing at the impossibility of becoming the hero people think he is.
"Yes, you're right, master. Our responsibility is a rather heavy one, isn't it?"
'Well for that, I'd rather someone else take the helm.' King thought, wishing the games he bought would still be there when he gets home.
"Well, let's learn, teacher." Jeanne said, her face leaning into the book in King's hands, as did Murasaki, curious about the foreign language.
King felt somewhat weird being a teacher to a novelist and a teenage soldier, but somehow he is the most proficient French reader here.
The next hour was filled with rather poor French pronunciations, interjected with discussions about their days.
'This feels surprisingly nice.' King thought. Not the surrounded by girls part, one was a widow and the other was ten years his junior, but for once being able to actually help someone out with his abilities feels… nice.
Ring Ring
A vibration on King's waist stopped his mouth from reading any further.
"Hm, what's that master?"
"Oh, sorry, seems like we have to end it here. I got something to do."
"Oh, hey Jean, you're here."
'Jean' thought it would get a little bit easier. She had 24 entire hours to practice smiling and nodding for this moment after all.
As it turns out, it wasn't enough.
The smile on her face strained every muscle fiber in her face as she tried her best to muster a response.
"Y-yes! I, uh, I'm here to see my Big Sis!" 'Jean' spat out, spewing out as much as saccharine as possible into her words.
"Just follow me."
As the man said those words, his back turned towards her, while walking towards his camp.
The sight of his defenseless back brought all sorts of emotions out of 'Jean'. Hatred, mostly. She could feel fire flickering in her right hand. If she plunged a sword right now into his back… that's it. No more 'Jean D'Arc'.
But hesitation creeped into her mind. She thought it was a simple fluke that he deduced her identity, but if he can spook away Gilles like that in La Charite, who's to say he won't notice the moment she draws her sword?
So 'Jean' stayed her hand, only for the time being. Once she knows for sure that she got the master where she wants him, that will be the moment she ends his life.
And she will savor his face when that moment comes.
"She's there. Can you see her?"
The man's deep voice broke 'Jean' out of her fantasies. In front of her eyes was Jeanne D'Arc, the inferior one, immersed in a book, unaware of her 'little sister' a good amount of distance away.
"You know, she went through a lot today. Her impostor did a number on her." The scarred man said.
"O-oh, really? Poor sis…" 'Jean' said mustering as much fake pity as she could.
Inside, she was giddy with delight. Yeah, maybe it was slightly overindulgent of her to taunt her lesser self with those corpses, especially with those new servants close by, but she couldn't help herself. When else is she going to be able to see such despair?
Speaking of, that archer she summoned was pretty fussy when they raided a different settlement, particularly when it came to children. Maybe she should tighten that leash on her Saint Graph, that holier-than-thou rider too, perhaps. Well, she'll talk about it with Gilles tomorrow.
"You'd be happy to know that she isn't angry though."
'...Huh?'
"We talked earlier, your sister and I, and she told me that she wasn't angry that the citizens thought she was 'The Witch', just sad that so many people died."
'...What?'
"I was pretty surprised. I thought that she'd get a bit more angry at France, you know, like the other Jeanne said she was." King said, his eyes still observing the blonde ruler.
'Jean's' eyes followed him. There, she saw her other reading the book, just as before, yet now she noticed a lack of the despair she thought that oh-so-holy girl would feel after what she did to her in La Charite.
Instead there was only curiosity as she flipped page after page.
And none of righteous anger.
"...Why?"
"Hm?"
"How can she smile like that? She should be sad, angry, broken!"
'Jean' couldn't understand. After being faced head on by France's hatred, after being told the absolute truth to her face, after everything she did, why can't she see it?!
"W-whoa, quiet down! The others are going to hear you!" The scarred man beside her whispered.
The rationale did little to quell 'Jean's' rage, though a small part of her kept in mind to keep her thoughts in her head.
She couldn't fathom it. He meant to tell her that this holy bitch didn't fall into despair?! She was looking forward to seeing the hate, the despair, the emptiness when she lay beneath her feet as France burns eternal.
But that image had changed. The broken look now screamed of defiance, and 'Jean's' satisfied smile now a repulsed sneer at her other's refusal to give in.
"...I get it, though."
The man beside her suddenly spoke, breaking her out of her furious thoughts.
"She's your sister, so you get angry on her behalf. I understand."
"That's not-"
"But I think it's fine, some people are just like that."
"..." 'Jean' could not reply to his words, not because it was some earth-shattering revelation, but rather because, well… 'What fucking nonsense is he talking about?!'
"I know someone like that. Their goal is somewhat nonsensical, abstract at best, and unachievable to most. None of it ever deterred them, however, and they kept pushing. Even now, after a lot of pain, they still haven't reached that ideal. It's kinda dumb, but you can't help but admire it."
"...Admire?"
The man, King, nodded, yet 'Jean' was far too absorbed to see it.
Admire? Hah! There's nothing admirable for being a doormat for an entire country to step on and just laying there and fucking taking it.
'What shitty drivel.' 'Jean' thought as she got up from her viewing spot.
"Huh, where are you going?"
"No, I'm… done. Done for tonight." The gray haired Arc said. Her appetite for destruction had been squandered by the combined stupidity of her other and the master.
'Jean' stomped away, leaving King to sit there uncomfortably.
'Maybe that was too insensitive?'
King scratched his head, abashed, as Jean's figure angrily walked out of view.
The girl seemed pretty frustrated about her sister's reaction to the whole debacle in La Charite, so he pulled out one of his trusty quotes, this time from a visual novel. Granted, he changed a few lines and words here and there to fit his experience better. He does know someone like that, after all.
"Hm, Monsieur King? Is that you?"
Jeanne's voice snapped King out of his musings as she approached him, book in hand.
"Y-yes, it's me." King said, slowly getting out of his hiding spot to meet the ruler. 'Hope she didn't hear her sister shouting.'
"Oh, well, I just want to say thank you, for teaching me how to read French." Jeanne said.
"Don't mention it, I just happened to learn French some time ago." Honestly he was more glad that he could actually put it into use than anything. He didn't stay up all night for nothing, damn it!
"Still, you helped me, of course I should thank you. I think I should be able to read some basic words now." Jeanne smiled.
"Oh, can you lend this back to Lady Murasaki? She said she was going to-"
"No need, Miss Jeanne. Once she replicates a book, she can always make more. I think you should keep it, actually, in case you want to read it again." King assured her, pushing back the book Jeanne held out to him.
It'd be a hassle if he had to come and teach her every time she wanted to read it after all. His French isn't even that good.
"...I see. Thank you, again." The ruler muttered, clutching the ordinary soldier manual into her bosom.
"And again, don't mention it." It was for his own sake, after all.
"...Good night, Monsieur King."
"You too."
Their farewells said, the two went their separate ways.
Slipping into his sleeping bag, King briefly wondered about Jean. He hoped she wasn't too upset. In hindsight his advice was pretty unsolicited, intentions don't always come across clearly after all.
At the same time, how could he just ignore an angry girl like that? She even almost blew her cover!
As sleep took him, King hoped that she'd still answer when night falls tomorrow.
"H-hello sir, do you think you have time to-"
"No! Get away from me!"
"Please! It's only going to take-"
"I don't want nothin' to do with you! You can be friends with that damn witch for all I know!"
"Do we really look like witches to you?"
"I-I read that witches can look like someone else! Scram! Get out of this village!"
Archer sighed.
'This is going nowhere.' The white haired man thought, seeing his master and his master's purple haired kouhai lean back into a tree as they took a rest under the shade.
Though, touring is a generous description for the busy work the director had assigned them.
"Man, they don't even wanna hear us out!" Ritsuka complained, before downing a bottle of water with Chaldea's symbol on it.
"Well, it can't be helped, Senpai. I'm sure word from La Charite traveled fast. Now everyone has their guards up." Mash consoled, handing a hand towel which Ritsuka used to wipe of the sweat in his hair and brows.
"Still, what was the director thinking? How are we supposed to convince people that the fake Jeanne is, well, fake?!" Ritsuka shouted in frustration.
"No, conceptually, her plan is sound. Lancer and Assassin go around in disguise, killing wyverns that are attacking the populace and helping France in general, hence gaining reputation by word of mouth. Then, we start a conspiracy and slowly turn France against the other Jeanne D'Arc, aided by Lancer and Assassin's endorsements. Using the momentum, we can cripple her main advantage towards us." Archer explained to his master, who is still slumped on the ground.
"Say, why do we need to convince France's people, anyway? They don't sound like they want to be saved to me." Ritsuka grumbled.
"...The main goal of our enemy is the destruction of France, and having us as its pariahs will make their job easier. With us, she can send as many dragons as she wants to attack cities and keep blaming us until everything is razed to the ground. That's probably why she hasn't sent a direct attack to any of us even though she's a ruler, we're still useful to them." Archer elaborated, pushing his knuckles into his forehead.
From his peripheral, Archer saw the face the boy was making. His gaze cast downside, frustration written all over his face. For most, that would be the most they could read from the expression on the master's face, but Archer knew better.
'How does it feel to have to save people who want your guts on a platter, Ritsuka?' The question went unvoiced, but Archer did not think of it with a hating bone in his body.
If anything, he hoped that it's a good enough wake up call to the young boy, one that reveals just what kind of path 'saving the world' can be.
"That being said, we are missing a key component." Archer said, brushing his own thoughts away for the time being.
"What is it, Mister Archer?" Mash asked, curious.
"An idol."
"...Like the singers?" Ritsuka asked.
Archer's face twisted into something that could be described as between suppressed smile and grimace. "...No, I mean an actual idol, a figure that people rally behind, Ritsuka. Right now, the Jeanne that people think is real is one, and that position gives a rose tint to the people's eyes, so they go with everything she says. A cult of personality, if you will."
"We need something similar."
"...I can't think of anyone like that with us." Ritsuka admitted, followed by a reluctant nod by Mash.
"I'm sure the director already thought of that. Hell, I bet she's grinding her teeth to dust right now thinking about it." Archer commented, the image of the hot-headed girl all too clear in his mind.
'Heh, reminds me of someone.'
"Let's hope Mister Cu Chulainn and Mister Kojiro are doing well at least." Mash said.
A piercing screech echoed through the plains.
Blood gushed out as a wyvern let out its last cries, falling to the ground and painting the grass red.
"No different from a swallow."
"T-thank you, my good man! You saved my caravan! Who knows how I'll feed my family tonight if you weren't here!"
"It's nothing. I was merely passing through when I saw a wyvern."
"M-my word, how incredible! Tell you what, take any one of my wares inside, free of charge! Anything you like!"
"That won't be necessary. Though, if you happen to see any wyverns, do point me in their direction."
"W-what? You… want to face those wyverns?"
"Why, yes. It's not everyday that such big swallows present themselves to me, after all. Ah, I think I see some in the distance. Good travels to you, but I must go."
Thus, the legend of a dragon slayer began.
"R-run! We're no match for him!"
"Ha! Better check yourselves before you run your mouths next time!"
"W-whoa, how'd you take down five guys like that? I've been this village's guard for half my life and I never seen nothing like that!"
"Heh, maybe do it your whole life and you can be a tenth of what I am."
"W-wow, I can't even deny that… Anyway, what's someone like you doing all the way out here in the boonies?"
"Well, it's been boring as hell since I came to this country. So, I decided to just go around, you know. Maybe beat up some thugs! Sure beats just walkin' around."
Thus, hushes of a divinely strong protector with a spear traveled through the air.
"...I think they're doing just fine." Archer dryly said.
"...What about King?" Ritsuka asked.
"His job is simpler, but…" Archer paused, his gaze shifting to France's horizon.
"I'd say it's far more dangerous than yours."
"I did not expect us to meet so soon, Hero of Charity."
"Likewise, Dragonslayer."
King stared at the two men engaging in casual conversation, arms crossed. The pale man with white, spiky hair smiled and nodded at his contemporary, a darker skinned man with longer white hair.
The city of Lyon paid no mind to the two's talks, one of them is their protector assigned by the saintess herself, after all. If he wanted to catch up with an old friend, why stop him?
Except that's not what's happening.
King knows what is actually happening.
And he could barely stop himself from shaking.
THUMP THUMP THUMP
"It seems that your master is raring to go." Siegfried observed, sizing up King as their eyes meet at the same height, a rare occurrence for him, something that only exacerbated his heartbeats.
"My master and I have a few things in common, I suppose." Karna replied, as nonchalant as if the topic of their dialogue is the weather.
Jeanne, Achilles, and Murasaki watched on from the sidelines, wary in their eyes, but their hands steady for the time being.
'Why are we doing this?' King pleaded to no one in particular, maybe at the sky for being so sunny at such a difficult time.
The director told him to, and he quotes "Make a friend out of the three servants not controlled by the other Jeanne".
"We basically have close to nothing in terms of convincing them that they've been tricked, but King, if it's you, then I have no doubt you'll succeed."
'What do you mean 'if it's me'?!' King screamed towards Olga's past self in his memories. What does she see in him?! What about him screams 'Make friends', huh?!
Alas, his cries went unheard, likely because they were unvoiced. The wind takes no passengers too cowardly to reveal themselves.
King took a deep breath. 'Alright, alright. Calm down, man.' Karna said he lost to this guy before, right? He also said that the guy has a bunch of help, though. So in a one-one-one, maybe with what little help King can provide he could win? Maybe those command spells or whatever will finally see use if it comes down to that.
"...I have a proposal."
"Hm?"
King's head snapped up at Siegfried's voice.
"You're the master of these servants, are you not? Or would that be the lady claiming herself as Jeanne D'Arc? It matters little either way, but I have a solution that may benefit us both."
"Leave Karna and I to fight." Siegfried stated, his gaze shifting to the lancer.
"Oh? and what do you get out of this supposed mutually beneficial solution?" Karna asked, though his smile revealed his answer to the offer already.
"Quite simple. Both of our parties will be deprived of their strongest members. Additionally, if I were to take all of you on right now, this city would be destroyed and its inhabitants displaced and my chances slim. To be frank, this benefits me more than it does you. My apologies." Siegfried said, apologizing with a bow despite the circumstances, or how he thought it was anyway.
"...No need to apologize. I don't wish to see innocent blood be shed, either." Jeanne confessed, her eyes wandering to the still functioning city of Lyons, unaware of the clash that had just been avoided.
"So you say, but I have little incentive to trust you. My apologies." Siegfried apologized again.
"I understand." Jeanne reassured.
"...One more thing, then. Marie and Amadeus are in Marseille, not too far from here, if they are your next destination."
"W-wait, why-"
"Very well, Siegfried. Let us go somewhere more… empty."
The two vanished in a blink of an eye. A wordless agreement struck the moment the lancer agreed to the proposal. The Chaldeans barely caught the two's flight outside the city, while the city resumed its day, blissfully ignorant of what had transpired.
"D-do you think this is fine, master?" Murasaki nervously asked.
"...Sure." King replied, eliciting a sigh of relief from the caster.
King really didn't know.
But it was one less thing for him to worry about, so in a lot of ways, it was in fact 'fine'.
"This should do."
The saber and lancer faced off against one another in an empty plain, Lyons still barely visible to the naked eye.
"I agree. Now, let us cross blades once more, Karna!" Siegfried shouted, sword materializing in his right hand. Balmung, the sword that felled Fafnir, given to him by The Nibelung.
"..."
"...Why do you not draw your weapon?" Siegfried asked, his stance still ready for a strike from any angle, his eyes narrowed at his opponent.
"Before we start, I'd like to ask you something. Why tell us the location of two other servants?"
"...Truthfully, I cannot bring myself to think that the Jeanne D'Arc with you was lying when we conversed. Yet, I couldn't possibly put all those lives at risk over my intuition." Siegfried admitted.
"I see. So you are leaving that responsibility with your companions."
"I suppose I owe them an apology for that. My wife often told me that I can be too self-centered at times. I believe someone like Queen Marie or Lord Amadeus is far better suited at judging whether or not you are telling the truth."
Karna chuckled. "Well, then you will see that you have been tricked by an impostor soon enough."
"Perhaps. Though, there is one more reason."
"..."
"Back in La Charite when we first clashed, you said that we fought in a past that you remembered. If I may know, what was the result of our clash then?"
"I lost."
"So you say, yet I feel no satisfaction. Perhaps there were circumstances that led to my victory, or maybe I am simply feeling overzealous."
Siegfried tightened his grip on Balmung. "My other reason is that I want to defeat you, Karna, in an honorable duel. So, until something proves your claim true, let us fight as the sun sets and rises again, until a winner is decided."
Karna's eyes widened imperceptibly. He did not quite remember the saber having as much passion in battle for the sake of it as he showed just now.
But…
"As you wish, Siegfried."
…it was a welcome change.
There was silence and for a moment, it was just a day in France.
Then there was no one, the plain as empty as can be, peaceful enough for a family to come and have a picnic.
Finally, there was white, and everything shattered.
"Here! This flower is for you, Miss Saintess!"
'Jeanne D'Arc' smiled at the gesture, her hand softly brushing the little girl's own as she gently took the offer.
"Thank you. I'll take this flower to battle, so that for every dragon I slay, I remember what it is I am fighting for." "Jeanne' brought the flower close to her face, savoring the lingering smell as the crowd and her soldiers murmured.
'How sickening.'
The fragrance stung her nasal cavities like no dead body ever could. Did this kid even try to pick a good flower?
The smiles rising on the faces of people in the village and in her own ranks didn't help matters. These vermin dare smile to her face after cursing her and leaving her to burn on that stake?
'These are the people you grieve for?' The disguised destroyer of France asked, her eyes momentarily shifting southeast, where her other self currently walks.
"It's kinda dumb, but you can't help but admire it."
'Hmph, bullshit.' Though he's right about one thing, it is dumb to even hold anymore love to these monsters under human skin. But admirable? Ha! You are wrong, King.
She would rather be anywhere else but here. Well, bar one place, that is. Not like she could help with that one, though.
"My lady, we need to strategize." Gilles' voice turned her head around. The caster walked flanked by Lancelot and Sanson, the foot soldiers saluting as they gave way.
"Ah, yes. My apologies, but I must go. The fate of France rests on my- no, our shoulders." 'Jeanne' proclaimed, cheers erupting from the small audience as she left the village.
'Jeanne' kept waving in the direction of the crowd, poking her upper body through the curtains of her carriage until they eventually went out of sight.
"..." With a thud, 'Jeanne unceremoniously plopped down to the wooden floor of the carriage.
"...Is this really necessary?" 'Jeanne' asked, already knowing the answer, yet despising it all the same.
"I'm afraid so, my lady. Momentum is on our side, we shouldn't be negligent." Gilles replied.
'Jeanne' groaned. If any of the soldiers could see or even hear her right now, their image of the holy saintess would undoubtedly be shattered.
"Speaking of, can you see how our countermeasures are holding up, my lady?"
'Jeanne' briefly paused and focused on her ruler abilities.
"That lancer, Karna, took the bait."
Just as Gilles predicted, Siegfried is far too honorable and pure to let a fight go. The lancer's revealing eyes and that dragonslayer now effectively out of the picture, the advantage is overwhelmingly hers, 'Jeanne' thought, a smirk curving her lips.
"That weird guy and the servant we just summoned is on their way too, right?"
Gilles nodded to the question. She was rather surprised when Gilles requested to summon one more servant from the grail, but after hearing the purpose, she agreed without hesitation.
Now that that man is traveling with her other self to Marseille, she simply needs a signal from that glittery rider and annoying caster so that she can send in 'help'. Shame she won't be there to witness the carnage this time around.
Slowly, the carriage stopped and another phony show was about to start. From the gap of the curtains, a scene of her Archer giving a few children gifts caught 'Jeanne's' eye. Accompanying her was Rider, who smiled and helped fetch a few herself.
"They've split apart their forces. Perhaps we can simply send Lancer and Rider to deal with the other half." Gilles suggested.
"..."
"My lady?"
"Oh, yeah, sure, whatever. Say, that thing we talked about this morning, can you do it sooner?"
"...As you wish."
"Welcome to Marseille, Monsieur!"
King stared blankly at the sight that greeted his group as they entered the aforementioned town.
The architecture of this age he was just getting used to was nowhere to be seen. Instead, lavish decorations of somewhat tacky colors littered the entrance to Marseille. It clashed with, well, everything else in France with the dragon problem. It was almost… garish, he'd say.
And welcoming them was none other than Queen Marie Antoinette herself. He read about her briefly in his study session. The last Queen of France who was executed by her own people in the end. Historians here called her a tragic figure, just born at the wrong place and the wrong time.
Oh, and some creepy dude named Mozart too, whoever the hell he is.
"So, what brings the witch and her disciples to this town?" The French royalty asked, the cheery tone of her voice betraying the gravity of the situation.
In contrast, the bodies of Jeanne, Murasaki, and Achilles tensed up in anticipation.
King assumed his typical, trained cross-armed stance, perfected through the three years of keeping up appearances.
"Well… If you don't have anything to say for yourselves, then maybe I should call up Jeanne! Maybe she can come here and we can all have a tea party together!" As she said, a man suddenly appeared by her side, writing down some notes.
'Shit! Is that her messenger?' A strange chill ran down King's back. Following said sensation, he was greeted by the sight of several other men, presumably from Marseille, circling him and his servants, farming equipment as makeshift weapons in hand.
"...Orders, master?" Achilles whispered, hand at the ready by his side.
"Wait! Don't do anything." King responded. Their PR is bad enough as it is, if they actually attack civilians then that other Jeanne sends in dragons? It'd be over for them!
The green haired rider grunted, but nevertheless kept his guard up.
"M-master, you have to convince Lady Marie!" Muraski requested, her form slowly backing with the others as the men circled in.
'Yeah, but how?!' King took a peek at the faces of the men, a melting pot of grief, anger, and the unholy combination of the two, vengeance. Right, to these men, the person responsible for the destruction of France, maybe even the deaths of their friends and families… was right in front of their eyes.
Jeanne stayed silent at the hateful stares directed at her. Instead, her eyes were pointed at the servant that constructed the entire plan, Marie Antoinette, the same cheerful smile still plastered on her face.
"Mm! Looks good! Now if you will…"
King's head snapped back to Marie. 'Already?!' Damn it, at this point he's gonna get lynched by the mob! Come on, think, think! How can he convince someone like her to stop this?!
"Please send this to-"
Her words were cut off by a sudden move.
The men that surrounded King just a moment ago stumbled back in fear.
In what everyone around could only describe as an act of conviction, the scarred master entered the Queen's personal space in the blink of an eye.
Mozart took out his baton, but otherwise remained still.
Their faces now a hair's distance from one another, the features of their faces now clear to each other.
To Marie, in front of her was the face of an unflinching demon. The man's scar seemed to glow as time ticked on, his eyes staring into her soul and his expression cold as ice.
To King, he was giving it his all to keep himself from fainting.
'Fuck! I moved without thinking!' What now?! It's not like this is gonna trick everyone here for long, he needs to do… something! Anything!
"...What is it, Monsieur?" Marie asked. From this distance, King could see the porcelain smile on her face starting to crack. Any longer and she might just rain down orders on her men.
'...Here goes nothing.'
"Queen Marie Antoinnete. I'll let you in on something."
"...Hm?"
"The Jeanne D'Arc you've been following is but an impostor. The one standing with me is the true savior of France."
"Interesting story! But I'm afraid France has no need for such stories at the moment."
"It's no mere story, your highness. And to prove it…" King closed his eyes. Alright, this is it, all or nothing.
"...I'll show you a miracle only one aligned with the saintess can produce."
"...Oh?"
"The sights of the palace you once inhabited will pale to what I will present to you."
"Oh?!"
"You won't be the same person before and after I'm done."
"Go on!"
Mozart looked back and forth between King and The Queen. The scene slowly resembled something every composer is familiar with.
"The sky itself will be painted with colors you've never seen before when I am done."
"Oh my!"
"Sounds much better than the greatest orchestra you've ever heard."
"Yes please!"
"And of course, not only you, but the entirety of France will see the truth."
Marie squealed.
'Ah, there it is.' The crescendo, Mozart thought.
"Okay! Okay! I'm sold! Where?! When?!"
King chuckled. "You will immediately know when you see it, but I promise, no more than a few days and you will get the first invitation."
"Alright! Guys! These people aren't the witch or her disciples! I was just playing a joke!" Marie excitedly told her previously hostile people, eliciting a confused look from them, but eventually they relented.
King breathed a sigh of relief internally. Looks like there haven't been too many sketches of him or any of his servants, or maybe they just haven't reached this far into France yet.
As the area slowly emptied, leaving only the servants and King as the sole human, his mind slowly calmed down.
'That worked?' It was a hail mary. A completely fake and unfulfillable promise that he made by stringing whatever word came to mind. Yet, the actual queen, the very real monarch of France danced around right in front of his eyes to his outlandish claims.
"Oh, how wonderful! What should I wear to Monsieur…"
"King."
"Monsieur King's event, I wonder? Mozart, you'll help me, won't you?"
"Of course, Marie."
"Um…"
"Ah, you all can stay at the inn in the center of the town, I'll arrange everything for you!" Marie said, answering Jeanne's question before she could ask it. With a hum, she and her companion left the Chaldeans at the entrance of Marseille.
"Do you really think she believed us?" Murasaki nervously asked.
"Well, probably not. Not until master is done with whatever he promised anyway." Achilles answered while shooting a knowing look at King.
"E-eh? I was under the impression that Monsieur King was simply bluffing." Jeanne said.
"What? Of course not! Everything I've heard about him so far was true, no matter how impossible it sounded, so why would it be any different now? Right, master?" The Greek hero asked, his elbow sharply nudging at King's sides.
"..."
"See! Well, let's go to that inn that girl mentioned, I'm starving."
Achilles marched into Marseille first, clumsily followed by Murasaki. Jeanne stared at King for a moment, before following suit.
'...What did I just get myself into?' King thought, watching as his servants enter the town one by one.
Slowly, he turned his neck to the sky. He wanted to scream, curse at the heavens, let out his 'fuck you's and 'why would you this's.
But maybe that other Jeanne was right, God had abandoned France, and King didn't quite feel like letting his voice echo in an empty Kingdom.
So King sighed, turned to the earth, and settled with a more simple and soft: "Fuck."
The future Queen of France whistled as she walked down Marseille, acknowledging the occasional greeting by the townspeople.
"...You don't actually believe them, do you, Marie?"
"Hm? Well… maybe I do? They sure seem sincere, they didn't even attack at all!"
"They might be trying to trick us. Jeanne, the one that's not here, did say they might resort to such tactics."
"Maybe, but… I sure hope they're telling the truth."
"Hm? Why?"
"When I talk to our Jeanne, sometimes I feel like she feels resentment towards France, just a little bit. I was a little disappointed, but also happy! Maybe we're a bit alike after all!"
"But… the Jeanne that we met just now, even when those guys were aiming their weapons at her, I didn't feel any anger at all! It was amazing, Amadeus!"
"If she was telling the truth, I'd be a bit sad. It seems me and Jeanne D'Arc are different after all… but I'll be even happier! If she's not lying, then Jeanne D'Arc really is the saint that France needs!"
"...I see. Well, I think all humans are filthy, so whichever Jeanne is the right one, it doesn't bother me that much. I'll just follow you, Marie."
"There you go again! No more of that! Nada! Zip it!"
Mozart chuckled. "Alright."
"...What about that man's proposal? That he will show you something you've never seen before?"
"Hmm… I don't know, but I hope he was telling the truth. If he is, then France will be graced with something amazing, won't it?"
"I suppose you're right."
The conversation slowly trailed off into silence as the two servants walked further into Marseille, disappearing into the crowded square.
King flew through the air.
Was that an exaggeration? Maybe, but this brief moment was the last thing between him and-
Poof
a soft bed.
The second his body hit the mattress, King knew what it felt like to have crawled an entire desert to reach an oasis. His back sunk into the soft feathers below the canvas material of the bed, a relieved sigh flowing from his throat into the air. This is how someone should sleep.
'Goodbye, uneven surface of the ground, you were a consistent companion, but I've found a better friend.'
King tossed and turned in the bed, savoring every sensation his body could take as the soreness of the last two nights left his body, replaced with the comfort of the soft bed. Did it compare to Chaldea's bed? or even his bed back home? No, not at all, this bed is at least 8 centuries behind.
But even canned meat can taste gourmet after 2 days of not eating.
'Sorry, Ritsuka. I hope you don't mind camping for a few more nights.'
Speaking of his fellow master, King wondered how he and his group were faring. They're basically doing PR for them, right?
'Sure glad I'm not there with them.' Sure, he maintained his persona in his world for an ongoing three years now, but that was mostly his managers that the association just assigned to him without his consent, not that King cared, he doesn't even remember their faces.
Glancing at the bedside table, King stared at his communicator. Olga congratulated him earlier after he told her how it went. Mash and Ritsuka did too, but he could hear the jealousy seeping into the boy's tone back then.
But neither of those really caught his interest at the moment.
King moved himself with a grunt, sitting upright. He grabbed the communicator and stared at the name "Spare_Communicator_01" on the contacts list. The spare that he gave Jean so he could inform her of his, and by extension, her sister's location.
King fell back down to his bed. He hoped before that she would answer when he calls her later tonight, but after what happened today, he really hoped she would.
The scarred man glanced at the walls squeezing his room. If he remembered correctly, Jeanne was in the room to his right, while Achilles to his left.
Marie had managed to negotiate with the innkeeper to lend them four rooms for the foreseeable future. But of course, even confronted with a queen's requests, the stubbornness of a middle aged businessman is nothing to be trifled with. As such, the four of them were allowed to sleep in these rooms, as long as they did one thing for the man…
Manual. Labor.
Achilles agreed as soon as he heard the proposal, and yeah, it might as well have been free of him. Jeanne was raised on a farm, so she had no trouble agreeing too.
The problem however, came when said man took a look at King, sized him head to toe, and delivered his orders.
"You, you are going to help me with some heavy jobs, my good man."
"...Why do I have these genetics?" King asked no one in particular. Maybe in the hands of Darkshine, having a body like his without ever even seeing weights in person was a blessing. To King, it has been a constant curse.
Murasaki on the other hand was assigned to do some paperwork, something King had no doubt she would excel in.
Well, not that she's here at the moment.
"Why, my lady, would you be interested in a business deal?"
A well-dressed gentleman stopped the four in the middle of the road, hand extended to one of them.
"M-me?" Murasaki asked, pointing to herself, flabbergasted.
"Yes, you, my lady! Of course, the rest of your entourage shall be benefited as well."
"Oi, back off man, we're not looking for any 'business'." Achilles warned, stepping in front of his fellow servant.
"...I know you want to prove the truth to France."
Achilles narrowed his eyes at the response, his hand instinctively forming a grip around a spear that has yet to form.
"Now, now. No need for violence. I assure you that I am your ally. I too, wish for the falsehood that has shrouded France to be lifted. So again, if you will, my lady? We won't even go out of town."
"W-what do you think, master?" Murasaki turned to King, who had been observing in silence.
'Hmph, how obvious.' He knows exactly who this man is. The vague wording, the passive aggressive way of speaking. His kind is something anyone here would be familiar with.
That's right. This man is a scammer.
But, think on the other side for a second.
"Go with him, Miss Murasaki."
"E-eh?"
Who else is better at lying than scammers? and to combat a liar, they could definitely use their own liar.
"I see your companion has agreed. Then, without further ado, let us. Worry not, we won't take long."
Before Murasaki could follow, King tapped her on the shoulder.
"Note down everything he does and says, Miss Murasaki. No matter how insignificant." King whispered, to which Murasaki nodded slowly.
They need proof if he lied to them after all.
As such, Murasaki went with the man, separating from the rest of King's group.
"...I-I'm sorry, sir. I believe I haven't catched your name?"
"Bune. It's Bune, my lady."
So, yeah, that was a thing that happened.
Maybe if they're lucky, Murasaki can catch the guy doing something shady, then blackmail him into spreading propaganda about the other Jeanne.
'Heh, good thinking, me.' Hey, sometimes he can think up tactics, too.
Going back to his own assigned chores, he thought about Jean once more.
More specifically, he thought about the time she grasped his hand. Her grip was strong, likely the rest of her body was too.
So, he typed in the message for her.
'We're in Marcille. Take some labor equipment with you.'
"...Gilles?"
"Yes, my lady?"
"Do we have… labor equipment?"
Mosquitoes buzzed in Ritsuka's ears, accompanied by the crackling of grasshoppers. The nocturnal harmony confirmed to him something that he didn't want to believe: a whole day has already passed.
And little progress was made in regards to propaganda.
Archer sighed, it went just as well as he thought it would. Some twenty villages and not even a single person willing to listen to what they had to say.
"So I went from village to village for nothing?" Cu Chulainn said, dumbfounded.
"Well, it's fine. I got some good practice for my sword, at least." Kojito commented, cleaning his sword with a piece of cloth.
"Well, it can't be helped. We don't exactly have a leading figure for people to believe in. I'm sorry." Mash apologized.
"Nah, I'm not blaming you or master. It's just kinda annoying, you know?" Cu Chulainn replied.
"If there's no other developments, then I'll just patrol around if that's alright." Kojiro said, taking his leave.
"I'm clocking off for the day, I guess. Sure hope tomorrow's easier." The blue lancer dissipated, turning into spirit form.
"...I'll get more firewood, Senpai." Mash said, noticing the dimming light in the center of the camp.
Throughout all this, Ritsuka stayed silent, chin rested on his hands as he gazed into the dying embers.
Wordlessly, Archer moved to sit beside his master, sharing the growing darkness between them both.
"..."
"..."
The silence was palpable, louder than any of the responses the two got during their talks with France's populace. More awkward, too.
"...Say, Archer? How come you don't use your Noble Phantasm?"
"Is this your idea of avoiding the subject, master?"
Ritsuka flinched at the sudden reply. Archer simply stared straight at the young boy. The master was never a secretive person, but at this very moment, he is an open book.
Especially to Archer.
"But if you'd like to know…" Archer thought about his next words carefully. What does Fujimaru Ritsuka need right now? Encouragement? Scolding?
No.
"I sealed it."
"W-what?"
Just the cold hard truth.
"You can do that? N-no wait, why would you do that?"
"You're not qualified."
"What do you mean?"
Archer sighed, but he knew it had to be done, before his master- no, this young boy kills himself trying to find his role in this mess.
"Exactly what I said, Ritsuka. Your magic circuits, your physical capabilities, your way of thinking, none of them are enough to undertake something like 'saving the world'."
"B-but I-"
"I know a boy once. His ideals were stupid, naive, unrealistic, though I think it is worth chasing. Still, the boy didn't quite know what it would be like to pursue that ideal, so he crashed and burned, only a shell of what he once was by the end, bringing ruin to him and those who cared about him."
"Even so, his mind was set from the very start to walk down that road. He didn't flinch, even when things like 'logic' and 'common sense' should've stopped him. It was outrageously stupid, but in the end it allowed him to see his ideals to the end, no matter how bitter it got."
Archer looked at his master, dead in the eyes.
"But you are not like that, Ritsuka. You are just a normal boy plucked from a normal life into this hellish circumstance. You'll burn yourself before you can even figure out half of what you're supposed to do."
Ritsuka turned away from his servant, unable to even bear looking him in the eye.
But Archer did not stop. "Back then, when those people screamed, cursed at you. You briefly thought it was impossible, didn't you? How can people like these deserve salvation?"
More silence.
"That is what separates you from that boy, from Jeanne D'Arc, from King. People like those, they don't need a reason to save people, they just do. Even when they acknowledge the rot in the people they are saving, it never becomes a factor, just a fact."
Even more silence.
"...I'm not saying it's a bad thing. If anything, it shows that your mind is healthy, normal."
"But it takes far more than that to save the world, Ritsuka."
The boy's head still turned away from the white haired man, eliciting a sigh from Archer.
"For your own sake, talk to the director to resign after this singularity. Just leave it to King, Ritsuka."
That caught Ritsuka's attention, his neck snapping back to his servant.
Only to find nobody there.
In the dead of night, Fujimaru Ritsuka was left with only his thoughts.
And he could do nothing but think.
Hey
Surprise! This one came out in 2 weeks intead of 4! Well don't get used to it, life is unpredictable and I might disappear for a while if this internship rejects my application.
Anyway, I think I got it. I've mapped out the rest of the arc, so going ahead writing will be easier.
I hope Archer isn't too OOC in that last part, by the way. I tried to have him be hard on Ritsuka while still retaining some of his nicer qualities. I hope that landed the way I wanted it to.
Well, hopefully the direction I'm going for here isn't too... alienating (?). I don't know but at times when writing it does feel like I'm being overindulgent, but at the same time, it's not like I'm making money off my writings (yet) so I'm being as indulgent as I can before my own brain stops me. So yeah, hopefully it's not too much when you all read my story.
Later
Updated 19/05/2024: I forgot to add all the lines bruh how did no one say anything