Elizabeth Bathory wanted to sing her heart out.
About what? Oh, she didn't know, maybe the fact that everything about her summoning was horrible?! First, she got summoned without a master and was told by the grail in the vaguest of ways to "join forces with other servants and stop France's destruction". What does that even mean?! If that wasn't bad enough, the first servant she met was that annoying green eastern snake of a dragon! It only got worse from there somehow when that scarred pitbull came in and started scolding both of them!
And apparently her older self is here too?!
Perhaps it would be more accurate to say that she wanted to vent, singing was just the medium she wanted to use.
All that being said, there was one silver lining.
"...What is it?"
A silver lining in the shape of a green-haired servant of mythical proportions, literally.
"Seriously, what is it?" The rider, The Greek Hero Achilles himself said, a slight grimace on his face as Elizabeth kept analyzing him with her eyes. She was familiar with his legend, The Iliad had begun to spread among nobility in her time, and with how many chapters were dedicated to the man in front of her, it was hard for her not to be taken in slightly.
However, she had a much different reason as to why she was currently eyeing him up.
"...Great Hero Achilles."
"...Yeah?"
"Become my Idol partner!"
…
"...What?" Achilles said after a brief but noticeable period of silence.
'Ha! He must be too stunned to properly respond!' Elizabeth thought smugly, a preemptive victory lap already happening inside her head.
Just imagine! The Blood Countess and The Hero of Trojan! Joining forces beyond time to form the greatest idol group France– no, The World had ever seen! Surely, a hero like him couldn't possibly reject such an offer, the glory, the fame, and a chance to be on stage with a fair maiden like herself! It was a done deal, Elizabeth felt it deep in her soul.
"Not gonna happen."
"Alright! Now let's goooowwWhat?!" Elizabeth almost yelled, eyes bulging as she stared in disbelief towards the green-haired hero.
"Yeah, sorry, but we're kinda in the middle of something important here. Can't see myself going along with some kid just because." Achilles said, his eyes dismissive, like he barely remembered what her offer even was.
"B-b-b-b-b-bu-bu–"
"I got nothing against you, alright? I just don't see myself as an… idol, not the way I think you mean it, anyway."
"I-it's not what you think! Being an idol is, uh, about capturing the hearts of your fans! Yeah! Through dancing, pretty clothes, and most importantly, singing!" Elizabeth said, haphazardly throwing the essences of idol-isms at her greatest prospect for a partner.
"...Well it's not what I thought it was, alright. Now I know for sure that I'm not an idol. Well, good luck on your search, girlie."
"W-wait–!" Elizabeth's plea fell on deaf ears as Achilles turned his back and walked away from her, leaving the girl in the middle of the crowded city of Thiers.
"Oh, are you done, Lord Achilles?"
"Yeah, I think we did all we could here. Let's meet up with the masters and the others."
And now he was talking to that preachy woman, instead! They both then talked about their findings, completely ignoring the shocked stiff form of Elizabeth Bathory.
'He… He rejected me?'
It was unfathomable, incomprehensible. Even if he was a Greek Hero whose legend far outsripped her own, what gave him the right to dismiss her like that?! Her! Elizabeth Bathory! The Blood Countess who tortured countless maidens for her own satisfaction! The Future Greatest Idol of All Time!
And so, The Hungarian Virgin Blood Drinker did the one thing she knew when she didn't get her way.
She sulked.
"Hmph!" Elizabeth scoffed, then pouted. Feigning as much indifference as she could as she walked away from the other two servants, deeper into the city.
So what if that guy didn't want to join her? How hard could it be to find another hunk that will draw enough people to a concert anyway? There had to be another one in this country. She just needed to go to… to…
She could try as much as she wanted, but there was no denying it. A golden chance for her to get on the stage appeared, then disappeared just as quickly.
Tears welled up in her eyes, just when she thought that her dream could finally come true… fate snatched it right in front of her eyes.
She was very close to throwing another, less violent tantrum when she felt something behind her. A presence, followed by a very real feeling of touch coming from behind, sending a chill down her spine. Elizabeth slowly turned her neck, peering behind her to find–
A hand atop her shoulder.
"Eh?"
King looked around uncomfortably. People stared at him with hushed whispers, and he did his best to seem nonchalant about it.
He, Achilles, Jeanne, and their newly recruited lancer had been going around town, doing their best to spread their name to bolster their reputation or something along those lines to varying degrees of success. Honestly, he didn't quite know what to make of it, just as barely knew what to make of their 'Grand Order' in the first place. He was only here to keep up appearances until he could go home.
Anyway, their current objective went smoothly enough. Even if he doubted that their name would spread outside of this town, or even this particular part of the town, at least the people they spoke to listened. Whether it was because they were scared of the man behind the two attractive spokespeople or because they really were paying attention to what they said, he didn't really want to find out.
"Become my Idol partner!"
'Huh?'
King's neck nearly snapped from the force with which his neck turned towards the source of the voice.
'Did she just say… idol?' King thought, looking at his newest servant, Elizabeth Bathory, who was apparently the younger version of that masked lady that almost killed him a few days back. Looking at her, you would've never guessed that she would become such a vicious person.
That information brought him back down to grounded reality. Right, idols were a recent invention in his world, relatively speaking, and he expected that it was the same in this world. Right, she probably meant another kind of idol, the more literal kind, perhaps.
There was no way a girl who was born a few centuries in the past would even know of–
"I-it's not what you think! Being an idol is, uh, about capturing the hearts of your fans! Yeah! Through dancing, pretty clothes, and most importantly, singing!"
…
…
His newest servant was an idol?
King's focus was now centered on Elizabeth, along with her conversation with Achilles.
"...Well it's not what I thought it was, alright. Now I know for sure that I'm not an idol. Well, good luck on your search, girlie."
"W-wait–!"
The lancer almost fell pitifully as her hand reached out to the rider, who went about on his way to the ruler on the team.
The girl who would become Carmilla grumbled for a bit in place before taking off on her own, stomping every step she took.
"She's… an idol?" King asked no one in particular under the whisper of his breath.
An idol, a word every otaku was familiar with. Literally, an object of desire, of love, of worship. For those who delve in the arts of manga and anime, an idol took the shape of a person, man or woman, one who entranced masses with their voice, their body, and their spirit on a grand stage.
He, too, knew them well. He had gone to several idol shows back before Saitama went and made him a 'hero'. He had never developed loyalty to any one particular idol, or an oshi, but he loved going to those shows just the same. Listening to those idols pour their heart out on stage, listening to his fellow otakus gush about their oshis, buying merch after the show, he missed those times dearly.
It all came to an end when he was picked up by The Hero Association, of course. He damn near caused a scandal just by showing up to a show that one time. Turns out his presence was enough for people to assume that particular idol was his oshi or something. He bitterly renounced one of his favorite pastimes because of that incident, a lot harder to disguise yourself when you're cheering in a crowd, King had learned.
It was for their own good, better that he miss out than have fandom wars happen because he attended more than one idol unit, King decided.
It was his decision in the end, yes, but it stung, even now.
So, learning that his newest servant was an idol and that she wanted to hold a show here?
King could not resist. He really, really wanted to see it.
The scarred master followed the lancer, and grabbed her by the shoulder.
"Eh?"
Their eyes met as King stared deep into Elizabeth. Yes, she definitely had the potential look of an idol, now that he looked at her closely. Did she have the mannerisms to be one? Well, maybe they needed to work on that. What about her voice? It was cute enough, but he supposed her singing voice must be amazing if she was that confident about holding a show.
"W-what's your deal, huh, Pitbull?" Elizabeth said eventually, averting her gaze from King's.
"...You said you want to hold an idol show here?" King asked, needing that last bit of confirmation.
"Y-you heard that? …Well, I was, but not anymore." The lancer said, pouting.
King frowned. "Why not?"
"Hmph! Go ask that rider of yours!"
Ah, so she wanted Achilles to be part of the show. It made sense, King thought, nice guy, handsome, athletic, he fit the bill of being an idol.
"Who cares anymore, it's over. I won't get to be an idol this time." Elizabeth sulked.
"Don't say that."
King's mouth moved before his mind did, but for once he did not curse himself for it, for once he went along with his impulsiveness, because for once, the otaku in him briefly overrode his common sense.
Elizabeth's head snapped to King, her eyes gleaming with skepticism but also a small glint of hope. King thought that he should think carefully of what he should say next.
He should, but again, he really wanted to see that idol show.
"Look, you want to hold an idol show, right?" Elizabeth nodded. "Then… whatever you need, tell me. I'll help you with them."
Elizabeth just stared at King for a while, dumbfounded, before muttering a small, disbelieving "Really…?"
King nodded. How hard could it be? Surely if the girl was so sure that she only needed one partner to hold a show, then she should have everything else at the ready.
"Really?! T-then I need a stage, a big one! Musical performance too! Don't forget about that hunk, either! Oh, oh! and we need somebody to write the songs! I already have one written in my mind, but a concert needs more than that! Five songs at least! Some backup dancers and vocals would be nice too!" Elizabeth said, her tail flapping up and down.
'…Oh.'
Alright, so this was going to be hard. King gulped, and for a second he realized that the idea of putting a concert together while he was expected to fend off dragons and find a way to defeat that Jeanne impostor was very, very unwise.
Yet, his head nodded before he could stop it, and he realized that he was far too committed to the idea to back out now.
"...Sure, just leave it to me." King said eventually. The part of him that doubted the feasibility of the plan tried to fight back against his desire to see one more idol show in person. It never stood a chance.
"Oh, thank you, Pitbu– no, Producer! Yeah, that's what I'm going to call you from now on!" Elizabeth said excitedly. From Pitbull to Producer, huh? A notable upgrade, King duly noted.
"Don't worry, I'm a generous woman, so I'll take off some load for you and deal with that green snake myself. I'll leave the rest to you, Producer!" With that, Elizabeth took off on her own, leaving King by himself.
'Well then, what now?'
He was just doing this for his own selfish wants, he knew that. He didn't do it because an idol show could boost their reputation or to fulfill a girl's dreams, those were just byproducts of what he wanted to do.
Yes, It had nothing to do with the mission at hand, but surely he could… convince the director that it was, just to get her permission. Surely just one day of focusing his efforts on something unrelated to the mission wouldn't jeopardize everything.
"Fou!"
"Hm?"
The familiar noise caught King's attention, leading his gaze to the small white critter known as Fou.
King hadn't seen the animal much, to be honest. Most of its time was spent with Ritsuka and Mash, and with their team arrangement, there were few chances for their paths to cross. Which begged the question, '...What is he doing here?'
King stared at the furry creature for a few more seconds before shrugging internally. 'I should probably return him to Ritsuka.' King thought as he went over to Fou and picked him up.
"Fou?" The critter mewed. It was pretty cute, King thought, a lot like a cat's, but way more fantastical.
'...Hold on.'
King's blue eyes met beady black eyes, then it scanned over the critter's whole body, its furs, its ears, its paws, and King came to an epiphany.
'He'd be a great mascot for the show!'
There are few things that could boost a show's popularity and feel more than a mascot, and it was no different from an idol concert. All they needed to do was maaaybe dress him a little and they're all set!
"...Come with me for a sec."
"...Fou?"
King didn't waste any time before he walked to his next destination.
"Fou?!"
As for where that was, well, let's start with the closest and most obvious target.
"Achilles."
"Oh? What's up, master?"
The Greek Hero looked nonchalant as King approached him during their walk across France. They were on their way to Marseille now, something King had suggested under the reason of coming back to Marie to avoid suspicion. His real reason was different, though not by much.
Regardless, now King had his rider to contend with, more specifically, his rider's rejection of his new lancer.
"You should reconsider the offer back then." King said, opening his negotiation.
"That? Seriously, master?" Achilles said, making a face that made King worry about his chances.
"Yes, you know what I'm talking about, right?" King asked for confirmation, slightly dreading the incredulous tone his servant held.
"Yeah, I do, but come on! We're in the middle of a war, outnumbered by human soldiers who we can't hurt, and she wants me to do that?! I don't even know how!"
King winced slightly at the response. Yeah, he supposed being asked to sing and dance in the middle of an important mission was unreasonable. If anything, he was the weird one for even asking Achilles to do this.
But damnit, he already promised Elizabeth that he'd help her.
So, it was time for King to do what he had done countless times.
Lie and embellish.
"...Hm, I see. So even a legendary hero can still have holes." King began, adopting an aloof attitude, or trying to at least, by turning his back to his own servant. "Well, I suppose not even the most decorated of heroes are perfect."
"Hold on, master, mind explaining?" Achilles said, a slight irritation to his voice.
'Well, let's see how this goes.' King shook his head. "I just thought that you would know better, turning down such an opportunity for heroics like that."
"Heroics? That?" Achilles still sounded incredulous.
'Still not convinced, huh?' Time to exaggerate a little about the idol profession. "Don't you see? Taking the offer would spread joy to France, have you on a pedestal, and in turn, help us with our mission. How is that not heroic?"
"Well, alright, but–"
'Alright, he's coming around to it!' "Besides, you haven't had much to do, right?"
"I get it, I get it! But that is too unreasonable, I'm not even good at it! The most I did was with my soldiers after a battle, and only a little bit!"
King's brow frowned slightly. "So, your heroics only go so far as convenience?" King blurted out, before he clamped his own mouth shut.
'Why did I say that?!' King panicked, that wasn't what he wanted to say! The words just came out of his own mouth before he realized it!
There was a pregnant pause in the air, courtesy of Achilles, and King was afraid that he had offended the man. Yeah, he was chill most of the time King had talked to him, but he might have a short fuse King didn't know about!
"Hahaha! How right you were, teach!" Achilles bellowed out suddenly, breaking into amused laughter.
King breathed a sigh of relief, internally. It worked, somehow, despite his blunder. Who was this 'teach', though?
"Alright, I'm in. So where do I start?"
Alright. One down, a few more to go.
"Oh, Monsieur King! You're back!"
King sure was back, alright. It was just him at the moment however, as he asked the rest of his entourage to stay in other parts of the city for now, mostly so that Jeanne and Murasaki didn't find out about what he was doing.
In front of the scarred master stood three, Queen Marie Antoinnete, that guy named Mozart, and a newcomer who was somewhat familiar, though King couldn't recall from where.
"...Is there anything we can help you with?" Marie asked.
To be honest, King didn't know either. Was there anything the queen could do to help him with the show? That being said, he had a guess, and that was better than nothing.
"Queen Marie."
"...Yes?"
"Is your noble phantasm a castle, perchance?" King asked. This was it. A good idol show needed a great stage to accompany it, and what would be a better stage than a literal castle from an actual queen? Of course, Marie being a queen wasn't a definite sign that her noble phantasm was a castle. It could be the guillotine that killed her, or maybe even a cake, but he had to at least try.
"...So? Am I right?" King asked again, hiding his nervousness behind his usual stoic mask.
"...Yes, it is." Jackpot.
'Phew, glad that's out of the way.' Well, that's the stage problem dealt with. "Then I suppose it's settled."
Now that they had a stage, everything was almost done. King already had a songwriter in mind, which still left backup dancers and the musical part of the show. Now where would he find those… Ah well, he'd leave those for later.
"You should come join me." King said, breaking himself out of his musings and focusing back on Marie.
"I-I'm sorry?" Marie said in a confused tone. Right, he hadn't even explained anything to her yet, King mentally knocked himself.
"Apologies, maybe I should be more clear. Instead of simply watching my promised 'miracle', how would you feel about taking part in it, instead?" King clarified.
"...I'm sorry?"
"A queen's castle, don't you think that is the perfect sight for the common people to look up to?" King clarified, again, making his intent as clear as he could.
"...I don't know, would it?"
'Huh?' That… wasn't the answer King expected
"Marie, the people of France loved you, as you did them."
"The composer is right, your highness. Love takes form in ways as pure as it is twisted. Even the fact that the people wanted your head may be love as well."
"...Yes, thank you, you're both right. …But, I'm not queen now, am I?"
King tilted his head. 'Does it matter?'
King thought about it. Marie Antoinnete's case was a famous one in France history, so much so that he couldn't avoid it when researching its history. He read of the people's adoration of her, even if they killed her in the end. Even so, it took more than simply being a queen to be loved by the masses. Marie Antoinnette must have been an amazing woman too. If Queen Marie could be loved by France, then why couldn't Marie Antoinnette, the woman?
…Wait, he didn't say those out loud, did he?
The prolonged stares the three gave him told him that yes, he did.
King cleared his throat. Well, that was embarrassing, hopefully she didn't get turned off from his offer because of that. "Anyway, do you want to? I think, no, I know you can help France, Marie Antoinette." King asked one more time, channeling his nervousness at a possible rejection to the shaking hands he hid behind his back.
The brief ensuing silence was broken by Marie. "Very well, Monsieur King, I accept."
King relaxed his shoulders and hands, relief washing over him. 'Alright, Eli, we got a stage.'
"Um…"
"Ah, d'Eon, right. You see the truth is…" King stayed quiet and tuned out as Marie began explaining the situation to her new companion, d'Eon, seemingly also a servant. Maybe a newly summoned one like those two earlier?
"...and so, I've decided to align ourselves with the second Jeanne that we met!"
'Well, that's nice.' King thought as Marie reached the end of her explanation. No more tiptoeing around the queen, thankfully.
Marie turned towards him. "So, what do I have to do?"
'Honestly, nothing, nothing today anyway.' King thought. He might as well ask about the other things he needed first while he was here. "...Actually, one more thing before that, are any of your companions proficient in music?"
King swore he saw a snicker almost arise from d'Eon's mouth, only stopped by Marie saying "At the expense of his quality as a human being, but yes." while gesturing to her other, paler companion.
'Sounds ominous.' King thought, but he didn't have a lot of choices, so the creepy looking guy would have to do. "I see…"
King's gaze wandered to the last person on Marie's side, one he was just introduced to, when something about them caught his attention.
The scarred man's eyes went up and down on the form d'Eon, and once more, an idea struck him.
Their blonde hair, turquoise eyes, pretty face, androgynous form, and princely outfit… They were perfect for the group!
The main draw for female fans of an idol show… a prince, of course! Yet, their face was pretty enough for male fans to still be enraptured by their face… King didn't know if he had ever seen a candidate as suited to being an idol as them!
Marie also said something about them being a spy, right? They should at least be agile enough to dance, then!
And just like that, on his first day of the job, the idol producer killed three birds with one stone.
"All three of you should come actually."
"A-alright?"
Now, for one final stop.
"...Which is why, Miss Murasaki, I need you to write the songs for the show."
"E-eh?! Y-you want me to write something that important?"
"Yes."
"B-b-but I've never written something of that kind, even as a passing hobby!"
King supposed Murasaki was a novelist, and that grouping her under the same umbrella as songwriters was offensive to both professions, but who else did he have to turn to?
The woman in question fidgeted under his gaze, her shadow flickering as the bonfire between them endured the cold night wind.
King almost felt bad– actually, he did feel bad about this. Did he feel bad enough to stop producing the show, though? Nope.
"But you're the best writer I know, Miss Murasaki." King said honestly. He didn't know many writers, or even any writers besides Murasaki for that matter, but from the few of her books that she brought for him during his time in the library, he could tell that she was a great writer.
"I-I'm flattered, but something like that is too… different."
"I can imagine. I suppose it's very far removed from your time." King said and nodded to her, but at the same time, "But I know you can do it, still."
"I-I-I-I don't think I can, master!" The stuttering Murasaki made, coupled with her hands covering her face made King wince.
"Why not?" King asked, his exasperation almost escaping to the tone of his voice.
"It's just… too different from the novels I write."
"The words you write, they are meant to be read. To those who cannot see, it has to be read to them. In that sense, how is this any different?" King tried to reason, the desperation finally setting into him. This was the last hurdle, and he was not telling Elizabeth that the show was off now after all he'd done.
"I-I don't think I can write it well enough!" Murasaki almost yelled.
King stared blankly at the caster. '...What?'
"I-I'm so sorry, master! I know I'm the only one in our ranks that became a servant through their writing… but I don't think I can do what you need me to. I-I'm too scared…."
King massaged his forehead with his fingers. Murasaki Shikibu felt… scared to write? No, maybe it was because of him. He was pressuring her a bit here after all.
King thought about the conundrum he was faced with now. Yet again, another one of his servants was showing reluctance at joining the idol business, now from anxiety instead of a flat-out rejection. Still, he needed a songwriter, so maybe he should exaggerate again, the same way he did with Achilles.
…But that didn't feel right. Murasaki had probably been the servant that helped him the most since he'd gotten here. Whose library was it that he accustomed himself with this new reality? Whose books was it that provided him crucial information on this planet? Who was it that accompanied him until late at night when he needed to pull an all-nighter? It was Murasaki Shikibu, all of it was her.
So instead, King opted to be genuine for once.
"...That's nonsense."
"H-huh?" Murasaki said, peeking her head up from her bowed position.
"You know, when I think of the most important servant I have summoned thus far, it couldn't be anyone but you." King said, it was nothing but the truth. "I wouldn't hesitate to say that your library was the most important place I've stepped foot in since our operation started."
"Master…"
"So, please, Miss Murasaki, write it for me. I know you can." King said, bowing, almost begging. Hell, he was willing to get on his knees if this didn't work.
For a while, there was only silence, and King feared for the worst. If she was this vehement about it then… he'd relent. The last thing he wanted was to upset the person whom he owed the most to in this world.
King had already started to sigh when he heard the sound of wood clattering against the ground, followed by the unfurling of paper and someone sitting down. Raising his head, King saw Murasaki, the prior shyness on her face was all gone, replaced by a sharper gaze, a serious look he had never seen from her before.
"I, Murasaki Shikibu, no, Fujiwara-no-Kaoruko shall write you a most fitting script, master!"
King looked at the novelist for a moment, watching as she immediately put ink to paper, before averting his eyes. He would see the fruit of her labor, but only when it was ready. For now, he should go and be thankful that Murasaki finally agreed. He shouldn't disturb her any longer.
And so, King nodded to her, his only thanks for now. He'd find the words after her written words turn to a song to be played.
'Hm… What now?' King mused, leaving Murasaki to her devices. He got just about everything for the idol show, everything except… a time and place. Fuck! How did he forget about the most important thing?!
The scarred master calmed himself down. This was no time to panic, he should instead focus on where and when his show would take place.
"Let's see… What city in France would make the best place for a debut show?" King wondered out loud. Honestly, it wasn't like he wanted to draw a big crowd, not like he could even if he wanted to. A debut show with no marketing with people who aren't particularly famous, at most he'd just draw people who were interested in the presentation of it. But that was enough, he was doing this so that he could see an idol show, not to create some sort of idol agency way before the first one was even a thought.
Still, he wanted Eli to be happy with it too.
King thought hard about it, putting his index fingers to his temple. 'Remember, King, remember that sleepless night in the library!' He scolded himself. France… France, its capital city was… Paris?
Right! Paris! Of course! They should hold their show at the capital of France! He should ask for permission from the director to set a course there tomorrow. King pulled out his communicator, and punched in Olga from the contacts section.
"Good evening, King. What is it?"
"Director, I need to go to Paris tomorrow." King said.
"You want to go to Paris tomorrow?" There was that same disbelieving tone in her voice that had been present through almost everyone he talked to today. By this point, King had come to expect it, and undeterred by it.
"Yes."
"...Paris?"
"Is it too much to ask?" King asked, slightly nervous.
"...No, you can go." Olga said slowly.
'Whew.'
Olga cleared her throat. "Alright, I give you my formal permission to head to Paris tomorrow. Good luck."
King nodded and turned off the disc, now heading towards the most important person of this new 'operation'.
"Eli."
"Hm? What is it, Producer?" The dragon girl was staring off into the night forest when he called her out, maybe she was practicing her voice?
"I've got our songwriter, and a time and place for tomorrow." King said.
"Alright! Thanks, Producer!" Elizabeth said.
"...No, it's me who should thank you." King said. Yeah, he didn't exactly not care about her dreams, but he did it for him more than he did it for her. "This is as much my dream as it is yours. I'm looking forward to tomorrow." He told her, to which she made a face at, one King couldn't properly describe.
"...Yeah, sure. I'll make it the greatest concert ever." Elizabeth replied, though there was something slightly amiss about her tone now, though maybe it was just the nerves getting to her.
"Yeah, I'm sure you will." With that, he left the soon-to-be idol, going back to his own sleeping bag. He needed to rest for tomorrow's big day.
Everything was set, now. The members, the dancers, the stage, the music, the songs, the time and place, yet King felt like there was something he missed.
'...Oh, right, I should tell Jean that I'm busy for tonight and tomorrow.' King realized, before swiftly typing out said messages to the girl. Maybe it was for the best, too. Their last meeting was… a bit awkward, to say the least. Hopefully some time between their last and next meeting could ease up the tension a little.
For now, it was time for him to rest, and prepare. He'd done everything he could, all that's left is for Elizabeth to knock it out the park.
"So, uh, we're going to Paris now?"
"Yes, Senpai. The director said that King requested to go there last night, though he didn't say why. He also requested a bit of change in our lineup." Mash said, she too wondered what the scarred man was up to.
Ritsuka sighed. "I always wanted to go to Paris, but this isn't how I imagined it would go." The boy said.
"...Paris, hm?"
"Is there something about the city, ruler?" Archer asked.
"It's just that I…"
"Right, Paris was still under English control during this time, wasn't it?" Ritsuka chimed in.
"...Yes. In fact, I participated in the siege of the city two years ago." Jeanne admitted, her hand brushing on her inner thigh. "We failed, but more importantly, even the people in the city were against us back then. I sustained a wound from a crossbow in battle… shot not by an English soldier, but a French citizen."
"...I see." It was Archer who broke the silence Jeanne's words caused.
"So… King's going to a pretty hostile city, huh?" Ritsuka asked rhetorically.
"Maybe. There's no telling how the city is now with all the wyverns running rampant. Perhaps Mister King has an idea or two to turn it in our favor." Mash said, raising the idea.
"Hm… Is this other master really that amazing?" Kiyohime asked, trailing behind the rest of the group, her eyes focused solely on one person.
"Yeah. Well… it's hard to describe it with words, but I think you'll see, eventually." Ritsuka said, which Kiyohime absentmindedly nodded to.
They were to follow the road up to Thiers, before going off the beaten road to avoid passing Orleans due to the heavy military presence in the area, and meet up with Cu Chulainn and Kojiro along the way after they're done with their own missions.
Which is why thirty minutes after passing Thiers, the silence went from unremarkable to disconcerting.
"...Mister Cu Chulainn and Mister Kojiro aren't here yet." Mash said, pointing out what everyone there had already realized.
"...Do you think they're–"
"Watch out, Ritsuka!"
"AAARRRRTHUUURRRRR!"
The young master barely had the time to hear Archer's warning before he was roughly shoved away by him, only avoiding a rough landing courtesy of Mash.
In front of them, a dark armored figure stood on the ground he had crushed under, the berserker, Lancelot. The five of them circled the knight, surrounding him, yet the air he exuded told them that he was not the prey, they were.
"...Kiyohime, stay with Ritsuka and Mash. Go to Paris
"But I can–"
"No, Ritsuka. You can't."
Ritsuka tried to open his mouth, to retort, to insist that yes, he could, but his lungs refused to give the words air. Before Ritsuka knew it, he was already on Mash's shoulders, the figures of Archer, Jeanne, and Lancelot becoming blips in his vision.
The three servants that remained behind stood still. Archer prepared his swords, while Jeanne prepared her banner and sword. Lancelot was seething in rage, eyes shooting daggers only at the ruler, as if she was the only person in the world.
"AAAAAA!" Wasting no more time, the dark knight launched himself to the maiden, before meeting the fierce resistance of a large arrow fired at him, launching him back to square one.
The second to make a move was Archer, firing several arrows at the berserker, who deflected all of them with his sword, whilst preparing his own swords. The twin swords of Kanshou and Bakuya struck Lancelot several times, yet it did little to even slow down his movements. "AAARRGHH!" The berserker cried as he swung his sword as heavily as he could towards Archer, knocking him back before–
'Guns?!'
A hailstorm of bullets flew towards Archer faster than he could recover from his surprise, only saved by the spinning flag of Jeanne.
"What… were those?" Jeanne asked, confusion clear in her eyes at the modern weaponry.
"Firearms, more advanced than what you know." Archer explained as briefly as he could. It was a submachine gun that was fired at him, Archer recognized, MP5 to be specific. Another gun was in his other hand, a sniper rifle, Barrett M82. 'This isn't good.'
Without words, the berserker suddenly shot a barrage of bullets at the two using his SMG, causing both to retreat by jumping into the air. But when Archer saw the red glint of Lancelot's helmet shift to the ruler, he knew that they had done what he wanted them to.
"Ruler!"
"AAARRRTHUURRRRR!" A sniper bullet flew from the other rifle, with much more force than Archer ever remembered that model firing, aimed straight at the heart of the saintess, who had barely started to realize the approaching danger.
However, noticing the bullet earlier, Archer had already nocked a few arrows, which he let loose and homed on the single bullet. The clash between the arrows and bullet was enough to change its trajectory, but not enough for it to completely avoid Jeanne as it struck her on her right shoulder.
"Ack!" Jeanne yelled, her glide interrupted as she began falling.
"Tch!" Archer clicked his tongue. "AAAAAA!" Before he noticed, Lancelot was already up in the air with him, Arondight raised high above his head. The red-cloaked man tried to dodge, but the blade still caught his chest. "Guh–!" Archer grunted, before quickly firing Caladbolg out of his bow, causing an explosion in the air that knocked them both to the ground.
Archer panted, "...Ruler, are you alright?"
"I…I can still fight." Jeanne insisted, picking her banner back up.
Both of them had now sustained visible injuries, a hole which gushed blood on Jeanne's right shoulder, and a gash across Archer's chest that glowed crimson. Their enemy looked worse for wear too, his armor slightly chipped and charred, yet his posture did not change, still fueled by rage, though now his red visor looked at them both. He had now noticed Archer as an obstacle between him and vengeance.
'...Well, that's progress, at least.'
"Damn, didn't expect someone would patrol around this village, haha– Gack!"
A sudden, sharp pain in his abdomen cut off Cu Chulainn's chuckles. Walking towards him were two servants, both bearing white hair.
"Lord Vlad, may I have the honor of giving this warrior a quick, painless death?"
"Hmph, spare me your faux compassion, executioner. Go and lead the soldiers away, I can kill this mutt myself."
"If you say so, Lord Vlad."
They talked as if the topic was the weather, as if there wasn't a bleeding man right in front of them.
"Hah! Take me on by yourself? Are you confident or just suicidal?" Cu Chulainn asked, getting himself up and patting off the dust in the ground, the stake impaling him through his abdomen treated as nothing but an afterthought.
"...I see you still have enough bluster." The lancer, Vlad III, dryly commented.
"Well, Lord Vlad. Take care that you do not get careless." The other servant said, before taking his leave with the soldiers in tow.
The lancer in black grunted in response, before turning his spear to the other lancer, clad in crimson stained blue.
"Heh, a surprise attack and a sucker punch? Were you that scared of me?" Cu Chulainn taunted, waving his own spear like a toy in front of Vlad's face.
The legendary dracula kept stoic to his taunts, instead responding by advancing on the Irish hero. Cu Chulainn scowled at the lack of reaction and made his own move, a quick stab aimed at the midsection of his enemy, yet it met nothing as Vlad turned into mist. The blue lancer had only a fraction of a second to react before the darkened mist moved towards him, then past him, and only after that did Cu Chulainn realize the hundreds of tiny cuts the simple move inflicted.
Vlad sighed. "Damn my master for summoning me with this 'berserk' state. I hate these powers of mine, but I suppose I have to go all out against you, Ireland's Child of Light." He said, his hand wiping off some blood off his face, the result of a noticeable wound near his neck.
"Ha, so my attack landed after all." Cu Chulainn said smugly, ignoring the numerous drips of blood pouring down his entire body.
Vlad said nothing and transformed into mist again, traveling at a speed mists didn't typically reach at Cu Chulainn. The blue lancer, now knowing the threat, expertly dodged each attempt the mist made to hit him, and swiped his spear at Vlad the moment the mist turned to man again.
Sparks flew as blade met blade, a shockwave emanating from the clash as the two lancers found themselves in a deadlock.
From afar, the villagers whispered with bated breath, hoping for the hero to vanquish the villain.
"Hm, so I suppose you are all sent here to eliminate me?"
Kojiro stared at the convoy in front of him without much emotion. Rows of soldiers faced him in a neat structure, their weapons at hand, eyes focusing on him even as their hands and feet trembled. Leading them was a woman of the cloth, in her hands was a staff in the distinct shape of a cross, or more accurately it was a cross that she was carrying.
"Fair lady, might I at least have the honor of knowing your name?" Kojiro asked, hoping that he would recognize his opponent through name alone if she would give it to him.
"...I am Saint Martha." No such luck for him, it would seem. "I have come to subjugate one of The Dragon Witch's subordinates." She said, in a tone that was… almost robotic. Kojiro's eyes narrowed, he knew that the servants the impostor had summoned were 'tweaked' for the lack of a better word, but the woman in front of him moved in a manner like a puppet, like her words, her actions were no longer hers.
The assassin unsheathed his abnormally long nodachi, Monohoshi Zao, or The Laundry-Drying Pole, a simple act which nonetheless caused several foot soldiers to step back in fear, with a few even falling down, their weapons clanging against the ground.
Kojiro couldn't help but chuckle, he had no intentions of killing these soldiers, as his masters had ordered him. Though he saw how fighting against a servant while simultaneously holding back against her soldiers could be troublesome. His worries would turn out to be unfounded, however, when Martha stepped in front of the small army.
",,,Oh? Are you proposing a duel, Saint Martha?" Kojiro asked.
The saintess did not respond with words, instead readying for combat, using her cross-staff as a makeshift spear. Kojiro's lips pursed, she should know that putting innocent men in the way would put him in a disadvantage, yet…
The swordsman's lips curled into a smile. "Very well, a duel it shall be." He said, getting into his own fighting stance by drawing his sword back, beside his head, touching his ears.
"B-be careful, Milady!" A soldier cheered on, followed by several more, then all of them, almost a hundred by Kojiro's count, joined.
"It would seem that either I die, or you become a martyr. How unlucky." The assassin lamented, before his blade moved, as did Martha's cross.
The ensuing clash would drown out the cheers.
'This… doesn't look like a capital city.'
Paris, famed in the history books and atlases that King read as a center of commerce, history, and culture in not only France, but also the world.
Yet the scene in front of him was anything but.
There were a lot of people here, sure, enough to call it a big city, but the atmosphere was… downtrodden, to put it kindly. People spoke in terse sentences, the buildings had a sense of drab to them, and the citizens kept staring at them like they were demons! Though for that last part, hopefully it was because of the city's hostility, and not, well, because they knew who they were.
"Hmm… This place is kinda dull…" Elizabeth said. King cringed at that, "I see… I see! You picked this place so that I'll shine brighter! Right, Producer?" only for the lancer's next words to alleviate it.
"...Yeah, I sure did." King said, though the questioning glances of everyone else as they passed hostile street after hostile street still made him cringe.
Though for whatever reason, Achilles and Murasaki would also sneak in glances against d'Eon. King wondered why, were they that cute?
"...Well, that's one trip around the city's center." Achilles commented.
"Right! So, where do you want to hold the show, Monsieur King?" Marie asked.
King put his fingers up to his chin to think about it. Honestly, he was hoping to find a good landmark in Paris after everything he read about it, but it would seem that he, uh, forgot to factor in the time difference.
Not like he had any other choice, though. They were here, they already planned out everything, and he already promised Eli that it would be tonight.
So, left with no other choice, King nervously pointed to an innocuous spot in the center of the city square, smack dab in the middle of the city of Paris. It was right in the middle of the city's marketplace, where traffic would likely be more heavy, yet also open enough for a stage to be placed.
"There? Yes, I suppose it is a rather strategic location." Amadeus said, his eyes darting around, analyzing the space. "Sufficiently large, as well."
"Maybe we can ask the nearby vendors for cooperation?" Marie added. "If our show draws a lot of people, they can get a lot of customers too!"
"I understand where you are coming from, Lady Marie, but they don't seem… receptive to us, to say the least." Murasaki said, feeling the citizens' glare creep up on her spine.
"I don't suppose the local government would be too friendly, either, with how Paris was during this time." d'Eon chimed in.
"Fou…"
"Oh, right, that little thing is here, too. Say, why'd you bring him along, master?" Achilles asked, ignoring, or maybe just ignorant, of the creature's defeated look.
"You'll see." King said, which Achilles accepted with a shrug.
"Let's find an inn, at least. To stay until night arrives." Marie offered, which was quickly accepted by the group. Of course, finding an inn in the climate of the city, close to its center, no less, was far easier said than done. Though they did find one, eventually. A somewhat shady one, King thought, but again, no choice.
"Ten coins per person, per night." The raspy voice of the thin owner dressed in rags said.
"Ten coins? How much is that?" Achilles whispered. King didn't know, but it didn't matter, they didn't bring any coins here.
"Here you go, Monsieur!" Marie cheerily interrupted, laying down the necessary funds for one night's stay, eliciting a look of surprise from everyone, including the owner of the inn.
"...Marie? Are you sure? That's our… entire budget given by the impostor." Amadeus asked.
"Anything for the show, Amadeus." The queen replied, a fiery but soft determination in her eyes that the composer rarely saw from her.
"...Very well." The owner reluctantly said, before showing the rooms for each of the group.
'Alright, everything's ready.' King thought as he sat down on his bed. Everything's. Ready. They just need to meet up, prepare their equipment and personnel, then perform. No marketing, no advertising, no fanfare, just a sudden live performance. The idea of telling people did float around his head, though that quickly died once he actually reached Paris, so instead he went with this. A good surprise performance should draw a crowd of a hundred at least, especially in a crowded city.
They could do it. Eli could do it. He believed in her.
The ringing of the communication disc caught King's attention. "King. Have you arrived in Paris?" Olga's voice rang from the device.
"Yes we have." King replied.
"I see. Well, it seems that you got lucky, or Ritsuka got unlucky, because his group were all attacked."
What?
"Ritsuka himself is uninjured, and is making his way to you as we speak, but Archer, Jeanne, Cu Chulainn, and Kojiro are all engaging with enemy servants, likely because we are more separated than ever." The director continued, her voice controlled but with an unmistakable sense of urgency in them.
"Should I–"
"No, keep yourself in Paris and do what you need to do. Whatever it may be, I'm sure it is important enough if you personally requested to come there. We simply have to trust the servants to win their battles." Olga said seriously, her eyes occasionally glancing at another monitor, something about the servants, most likely.
King gulped down the uncomfortable lump in his throat. "...Yes, director." He said, not knowing what else there is to say.
Olga nodded. "Good luck with your mission, I hope– no, I know it will bring us closer to defeating our impostor." She said, before cutting off the communications.
The following silence was deafening, drowning out even the chatter between servants through the walls. For a few minutes, King simply sat on the bed, gazing into the wall for what seemed to him like hours, before letting himself fall back into the cold and rough mattress.
'...Damn.'
"Well, looks like we're the first ones here."
"Naturally! We are the main stars after all!"
The two soon-to-be idols, Achilles, The Hero of Trojan, and Elizabeth Bathory, The Vampire of Hungary, walked along the place where their concert would take place. It was empty for now, only populated by vendors and those who shopped at evenings rather than mornings, but that was by design. Everything would be deployed at the same time, the producer had said, a surprise drop, he called it.
"Now that we're here, might as well practice our voices, right?" Achilles said, stretching his body.
"Sure! You know how to sing, right?" Elizabeth asked.
"Eh, I got into it with my soldiers after a battle or two. Should be enough." Achilles said nonchalantly.
"Yeah! Singing is about passion anyway." The lancer agreed, hands on her hip and huffing to the tune of her own voice.
"Well, now I'm curious. Alright, girlie, let's see what you got." Achilles said, eyes expectant.
Elizabeth smiled smugly, nodded, then opened her mouth.
Hey
So, this came out way earlier than I expected it would.
Granted, that's probably because about a third or so of this chapter is just parts of the last chapter reframed, but yeah.
You might be wondering why I decided to go down this route. Well, me too, honestly. I was thinking of how to use Eli in the story and the image of her performing an idol show with Achilles suddenly popped up and never left my mind, so here it is, coupled with additions that I made.
Anyway, next chapter could probably be out in a week too, or not, don't rely on me for a reliable and consistent schedule.
Though, I have to say that some plot points just kinda came up to me while writing this chapter. Nothing that will change my overall plans, but a plot point nonetheless.
Good luck with your summer rolls and as always, tell me what you think about the chapter.
Later