Last night, Lord Karna gave us news.
It is hard to call it terrible or even bad news. It is more of an… odd news than anything else.
One of our masters, master King, had been sheltering our enemy, The Dragon Witch.
Why, I wonder. Was the reason pragmatic? To perhaps mislead, deceive, demoralize? That would make sense, but… I feel Master King is not the type of man to do such things, not because he sees it pointless, but rather because he doesn't need to. Maybe there was a deeper meaning to it, then. Something he saw in The Dragon Witch, if what Karna thought was true. If so, then she had to say it was commendable, almost inhumanly considerate, even. To seek sympathy and try to reason with a person who has committed such atrocities… it is incomprehensible for me to even begin to think.
But that is how Master King operates, I suppose. An enigma if you try to look past his rough and seasoned exterior.
Yet, I trust this enigma, and so does everyone else. If it is him, then I am sure it will all turn out alright.
Regardless, it would seem that The Witch had taken Karna's advice and made her way out of town before the sun rose, seeing as the city of Bordeaux is up and running without an unusual sight as far as the eye can see.
Well, I suppose that depends on one's definition of unusual.
The tour has ended, which we did announce though with a hook for another tour. It was mere lip service, but they would never know that. Yet, somehow it seems that the excitement has yet to stop for the citizens of France. They are still running around, jumping up and down, all with the occasional cheers for our group, DragonFever. A huge part of me is happy. Something I took part in is having such an effect, it's the dream of any creative. Yet… something about it bothers me, worries me.
Murasaki shut her journal close and shook her head. There would be time for her worries later.
Now, she needed to bid farewell to the friend she made in France.
"Ah, Lady Murasaki. Good morning."
She nodded. "Morning to you as well, Lord Bune."
The man stood at the center of the city, seemingly unfazed by the swathes of people that crossed past him, flickering him from Murasaki's sight every so now and then.
"You're leaving today." She said, a statement, not a question. Farewells are an inevitable part of life, she would know.
Bune's eyes darted ever so slightly, to the point that Murasaki thought that she would not have catched it had she still been a living human. Perhaps it was one of the citizens that caught his eyes, or maybe a part of his carriage, but his eyes went back to her as fast as it left.
"I am. In a way." He said.
In a way, he said. Was it an attempt to soften the blow of the end of their friendship? Murasaki's lips puckered. Unnecessary as it might be, she appreciated the gesture.
"...Well then, I suppose this is goodbye." He said, offering a handshake, the gesture that would mark the end of their friendship.
"I am glad that we met, Lady Murasaki and if I might add, I am happy that one of the last sights I saw here was your performance." He said, to which Murasaki couldn't help but blush as she approached him.
"Yes, it was… an experience for me as well." She muttered. She was no stranger to grand performances, but to partake in one herself… it was unimaginable for her, but she supposed that was the servant life.
Both them fell into silence then as the distance between them disappeared. Slowly, Murasaki's hand went to approach his–
"Stop!"
–Before someone interrupted them.
Murasaki's head snapped to the source of the voice, a cloaked figure bearing a masculine voice. She recognized him, or his vague shape at least, from just a few days ago. In Thiers.
In his hand, a sword. Standing by his side was another, slightly taller figure, also cloaked in a robe.
Murasaki took a defensive stance, her brush drawn while a scroll materialized itself in front of her. She stood in front of Bune and began to touch the scroll with the tip of her brush.
"Wait, Lady Murasaki."
Her hand stopped, but the ink stayed wet as she focused her gaze on the two figures. She said nothing, but she was sure that the gesture was enough to send the message 'Speak'.
"...I'll be frank, my lady. We are not who you think we are, neither I nor my companion here had any shred of allegiance to The Dragon Witch." The cloaked figure wielding an oddly square shaped sword said.
"Apologies for my rudeness, but I would need far more than your word to believe you." She said, initially to stall, but as the two figures fell into silence and seconds ticked away, Murasaki realized that perhaps she really should give them a chance.
If they truly were additional servants that The Witch summoned, why show up now? At her lowest point and not when she still had power? It gave their claim some credence, even if it was merely circumstantial.
The pair paused and looked at each other. The one with the sword gave the other a nod and he responded with a sigh, before taking down the hood of his cloak.
"Y-you're…"
The face of Gilles de Rais greeted her.
"Yes, it is I, the true Gilles de Rais, not that… demon hiding under my face." Gilles said, shedding his cloak and revealing the silver armor underneath.
For a moment, Murasaki closed her lips and elected to digest in silence. They had thought him dead, even if no one could confirm it. The Witch had some questionable decisions in this 'war' of theirs, but was she so sloppy that the thought of killing one of the names she had impersonated passed her by?
"...And you are?" She asked the other figure, his sword turned down and so was her brush.
He took off his cloak without hesitation, revealing a fair skinned man with brown hair that extended to his back bearing a maroon armor with a dragon shaped pauldron and white and red sashes that draped down his armor..
"Servant, rider." He introduced himself, short and curt with a trailing end, like there was something else he needed to say.
"I… see…" Murasaki drawled out slowly. She would need to confirm Gilles' identity with Jeanne, and the rider's with Chaldea's equipment, but she saw no reason for them to lie about their identities. Still, she kept her guard up, even if not her weapon anymore. There was still one thing left unclear, their goal, why did they reveal themselves now?
"...So, you've finally revealed yourselves."
"A-ah! Lord Bune! Please calm down, these men are–"
"–His enemy."
Murasaki's head whipped back to the servant and human pair, and to the rider, who made the declaration..
"W-what?" Murasaki managed to ask, her voice a small whisper.
"That 'man' is our– and your enemy."
"..." Murasaki's mouth was open, but no sound came. She opted to turn back to Bune instead, who looked… confused.
Or was he?
"...Me? Your enemy? Don't joke around, Lord Saint, why would I–"
"Saint?"
Bune stopped talking, and moving, and Murasaki swore she heard his breath going missing for those few seconds. Saint. The word echoed in her ears. The rider was a saint, but–
"That is right, and I apologize for not introducing my name earlier, I am Saint Georgios." He said. "Though, I must ask… how did you know this status of mine as a saint before I said anything of the sort?" He finished, staring daggers at Bune, and though his words lacked an accusatory tone and his sword still merely hung loosely from his hands, the tension immediately became thick, like Murasaki could touch and feel it.
"...Just an educated guess." Bune said. "The white and red in your robes are rather reminiscent of those that the most devout of knights would wear you see, and I heard that a servant of The Witch's had a dragon be part of her powers, so having killed a dragon, you must be–"
"Killed? I did, but… why would you assume that?"
The polite smile on Bune's face slowly fell, to Murasaki's horror.
"If that servant had a dragon as a companion, it is a leap of logic for you to assume this dragon on my shoulder is a trophy and not a sign of friendship, is it not?" Georgios paused. "Frankly, I'm slightly offended, even if you are right."
If the words the two exchanged raised the tension, the following silence increased it by tenfold. Murasaki considered biting on her fan just to stop the tremors in her body. It couldn't be, right? He had helped them– helped her so much! Even if he was those two's enemies– he still did good by her, advanced their cause! Yet Georgios and Gilles both said that he was her enemy. Why? If they were lying, what purpose would it serve now? If they weren't…
Then, Bune broke the silence with a sigh, and Murasaki went dead stiff.
"...Alright, I admit it."
Murasaki breathed sharply. The air almost punctured her lungs.
"I see, so you–"
"Wait, wait, wait. I admit that I know who you are, but your enemy? That's ridiculous, Lord Georgios." Bune said, covering his eyes as the glint of Georgios' blade that was now pointed at him shined brightly. "Why would you assume that in the first place?"
"Because you were there. When the one who wears my face struck me down to replace me." Gilles said harshly, stepping forward.
"Ah, I remember that. That was merely a… coincidence, you see. Marshall Gilles was a client of mine, so when I came to him and he was disposing of a bloodied body, I did not think twice of it. My apologies, Marshall Gilles. Had I realized his true identity sooner, you might have been able to prevent all this from happening."
Contrived. Shaky. Too Convenient. Not a single word that came out of his mouth sounded convincing, and Murasaki knew that he knew it too.
Yet a part of her still held hope.
She'd give him one last chance.
"I-I see, Lord Bune. In fact, did you not help us with the shows? It helped our cause significantly, you were almost our sponsor! You did that because you– because you wanted to help France, right?" Murasaki asked with transparent anxiety, but also honesty.
"Of course! Everything I have done so far, from those pamphlets to the merchandise we peddled together, all of it was for the good of France. So you see, Lord Georgios and Lord Gilles, I am on your side, and hers." The man replied, confidently gesturing to himself and Murasaki, to which the opposite pair lowered their weapons. "Isn't that right, my lady?"
"..."
"Lady Murasaki?"
"...Lord Bune. I… I have a confession to make."
"...Oh?"
"Truthfully, from the very beginning, I suspected you, …that you were not who you said you were." She said, each word coming out a tremor. "B-but back then in Marseille… I decided to give you a chance, through a spell of mine."
Bune stayed quiet, though his eyes went downcast, now as if gazing at her from a position above herself despite their similar heights.
"It– It was a spell that showcased one's true thoughts through words written above their heads; Captions, I call it." She paused to take a breath, shaky as was her steps as she distanced herself from the man she called 'friend'. "In Marseille, I casted it as I asked you what those papers were for, and you answered 'to uplift the citizens in France'." She remembered it clear as day, the way she inconspicuously casted the captions over her head as subtly as she could, to the point where all she took was a simple glance above his head before returning her eyes to his as they talked a pleasant conversation through the town.
It was just a single glance, but she still remembered what it said above his head.
"...I see. What did it say? I must admit, I find myself curious." Bune said, the polite smile back on his face, though even the most uneducated of laymen could tell its fauxness.
"...It said 'The man was sincere; he aims to help the people of France'."
"And? What does it say now?"
Murasaki's lips quivered, but she soldiered on through regardless. Whatever would happen from now– and what had already happened… were her responsibilities.
"... 'This man wants France to burn'."
"Lady Murasaki!"
A metal hand shoved her away before she could respond any more, and then–
"Ascalon!"
"Guh!"
When she regained her bearings, the sight that first greeted her was her 'friend' with Georgios' sword through his gut, blood spilling from his mouth down his beige shirt and bursting through his back.
Murasaki averted her eyes. A million questions ran through her mind, all with a different flavor of emotions, regret, fear, scorn, sadness, but none sounded like acceptance. Like a book in the midst of being written while the author had yet to decide how it would end, her mind did not stop to rest even as her breath returned to its normal pace and her eyes processed what had just happened; her 'friend' was never her friend, and now he was dead.
…Or he should have been.
The first sound that followed the squelch of steel through flesh was not a scream of horror, a sigh of relief, or even another squelch if the blade was taken out.
Instead, the first sound that followed was a slow, deep laugh.
"So, that's how the curtains fall on my role as 'Bune', is it? A nifty spell, I must say, and a reliable one. Those were my true thoughts as we spoke." 'Bune' spoke, his eyes seemingly looking at no one despite the presence of the man whose sword was still in his stomach.
Sensing danger, Georgios leaped away, taking Ascalon with him, accompanied by a violent spurt of blood from 'Bune', who didn't seem to even acknowledge the noble phantasm that he had been struck with.
"T-then why?! How could you– how could you want to uplift France's people, yet desire France's destruction?!" Murasaki yelled. She knew that this might not have been the time, but she needed to know, it overrode her common sense.
'Bune' looked at her like he had never before, pitying, but not in an equal standing.
"I was not lying, you can simply see for yourselves."
"What do you mean, demon?" Gilles growled, his own sword pointed to the man Murasaki thought she knew.
"Look around you."
She did, and so did her two newfound allies.
"A man was just run through by a blade not two hours from sunrise, yet does it look like any one of these fools care?"
"...He's right." Gilles whispered, and it wasn't necessary for Murasaki to ask, because her eyes answered before she could.
Walking through the streets of Bordeaux were those same men, women, and children in those garbs she and… 'Bune' had sold together, all without a care in the world, like all there was to look forward to were more shows. Her first thought was that they were blind, figuratively or literally. They must've been; how else could they have missed the crimson that now colored the center of the square. Yet on a closer inspection, she saw, she saw the occasional turn to their scuffle, maybe even a whisper here and there, but they were all… brushed off. Their gazes turned back with a shrug, the whispers ended with nonchalant laughs, and all was well.
Nobody cared.
"Great, isn't it? To be so taken in by their greed that they can't even see anything else but their precious idols." 'Bune' spat, with half contempt and half pity. "They were all such fools, but I used that to their own good, too. After all, what better way to spend the end of your life than in blissful ignorance? In riches they didn't know they could have before? This is the way, Lady Murasaki." He said, staring at her, through her. "This is how I– we saved the people of France."
"N-n-no, I– I didn't–!"
Didn't what? She asked herself. She did. It was her. It was her that gave 'Bune' a chance. It was her that decided to spread his papers. It was her that sold all those merchandise with him.
She was the one responsible for this.
"Well, I deserve some credit too, and so does this body that shared my name. A banker has his uses. My lord's foresight is as brilliant as ever."
'Banker? Lord?' The two sudden revelations sent her already frantic mind into a spiral. He had said that a merchant was merely a faucet of his true profession, but a banker? Then, those papers– were they loans? leases? And Lord? Was… was 'Bune' a servant of their true enemy?
'Bune' sighed. "Well, regardless, I have to say, this situation is rather advantageous to me, so–" His eyes flashed danger, and Murasaki's heart skipped a beat as she knew it was directed to her. "I'd run for my life if I were you."
"Is it really? Even without reinforcements, it'd be wise for you to remember that we still outnumber you three-to-one." Georgios said, bearing his sword to 'Bune' once more.
'Bune's' mouth turned into a curve, then a laugh, then he guffawed for what felt like an hour before he stopped and stared back at them.
"'Ascalon', was it? The ruler told me about it." 'Bune' said, sounding dismissive even as blood poured out of his open stomach. "She told me that it could pierce any armor, but also–"
He smirked.
"–that it turns its victims into dragons."
"...Curses! Lord Gilles, Lady Murasaki, behind me!"
Murasaki barely made it before she heard a sound– a violent sound. And it wasn't until she peeked her head around the rider's shoulder did her eyes witness horror she didn't know existed.
From the body of the banker, sprouted appendages– nails, scales, wings.
"Do you really think I didn't know that you were following me? You are just like everyone here, Lady Murasaki, all her allies, and even that ruler, all have been pawns under our hands." 'Bune' said somehow, even through the protruding bone, flesh, and keratin that grew grotesquely from his body.
Yet, the macabre sight still had no more than three pairs of eyes on it.
"Hear me. I am the one that brings riches. I am the one that answers their demands. I am greed personified." 'Bune' said, or growled now that his throat had changed, now long and scaly, all traces of the human that once was were now gone.
"My name is Bune, and my name is now Fafnir."
Fafnir. The dragon of greed.
The now full-fledged giant dragon roared, and to its rhythm, wyverns flew down from the skies above the clouds, diving down faster than even Murasaki could follow. Her eyes instead focused on the dragon that stood in 'Bune's' place. Its size dwarfed the wyverns she had seen throughout her time in France, worthy of the true title of Dragon. Its scales black as night with sharp edges, its underbelly a dark purple, and on its chest a shining blue emblem brimming with power. And most conspicuously, eyes, red, where they did not belong, rows of eyes running through its back, its wings, its tail, and even sharing eye sockets with the typical slitted irises of the dragon's eyes. The same red eyes were present in the wyverns too when she caught sight of one, in equally grotesque ways.
Yet, even now, not a single citizen bothered to look up, towards the sounds of flapping wings that surely would have them running to their homes just a few days ago. All was well in Bordeaux, for there was a show to look forward to.
'...How?' Murasaki fell to her knees.
"A shame, my lady. I had hoped we would share more words for our parting." 'Bune', or 'Fafnir', or both said in a voice that echoed through two different throats. "Now, burn."
The dragon's jaws stretched apart, an inferno in the color of turquoise stared back at her.
"Lady Murasaki!" Georgios shouted as he ran to her, though his voice was ringing in her ears and she did not feel him come to her, perhaps the wyvern stopped him, but she didn't mind all that much.
She was responsible for this, after all.
'...I don't want to die, but–' She couldn't avoid it either, her body refused to.
She needed to take responsibility somehow.
She ignored the yells of Gilles and Georgios and closed her eyes. Maybe there was no way for her to match the firepower directed her way, but–
"...I have to try." She whispered.
Words flew from her scroll as the wave of blue fire approached her, assembling as a barrier in front of her. Murasaki gritted her teeth as she kept writing and turning the letters into a shield, each letter replacing another as the fire disintegrated them.
And his fire was faster than her fingers.
Slowly, the paragraphs disappeared, turning into words, then that too disappeared into jumbled letters with no meaning, until eventually, a single letter remained.
Then it broke, and the heat made itself known to Murasaki's skin.
'...If this is it, then… at least I tried.' To take responsibility, as her master's servant.
The heat intensified, until sweat dripped from her brow to her nape then to her chest, and those beads of sweat boiled and turned to steam, and Murasaki felt like she finally knew what it was like to be inside of a raging volcano.
Yet, the fires did not reach her.
Slowly, she opened her eyes, and meeting her was the back of a massive man, covered in black armor with pieces of silver metal. His blade met– no, pushed back against the blue fire, he was winning, and she supposed that made sense considering his identity.
"Lord Siegfried…"
"Fafnir. We meet once more."
"I'm curious. How did you know that King knew 'Jean's' true identity, Karna?"
"If her 'disguise' was shabby enough for me to see through at first glance, then I imagine it was much the same for Master."
"That's it?"
"Do you disagree?"
Archer sighed. "No, not really."
Jeanne couldn't say she did either.
It had been some eight hours since she received the news, give or take. Eight hours she spent with unblinking eyes even as Marie told her to rest. Eight hours the words told by Karna repeated in her head; 'The Witch has been watching you under the identity of 'Jean', your sister', and in that moment, all she remembered was that she just stared at the lancer.
How could she describe what she felt? When the revelation first came, shock. In the hours following, contemplating. But now? She felt as if her vocabulary was an oasis dried up by the sun which took the form of her 'sister'. Perhaps consternation was a close descriptor, but it still felt off.
All of this, and she hadn't even gotten to even consider why. Why did King, someone she would consider a friend, hide it from all of them? From her? Maybe she should feel angry, upset at him for keeping such an important secret, but she couldn't muster up the will to, or even wanted to.
'If it's Master, then I'm sure he had a good reason to hide it.' Karna had said in the impromptu meeting last night, a meeting which had involved every servant in the premise, Chaldea, and Ritsuka, but not King, who was still outside the inn when it had happened, and was incidentally absent now as well.
It explained nothing, yet everyone accepted it. If King had decided that he should keep it a secret, then who were they to argue? Logic told her to, but she knew in her heart that whatever reason he had was in good intentions.
…Still, she felt left out.
A pout made its way into her face before she could stop it. '...I want to meet her too…'
"Well, regardless, considering this is the final day, I'm sure we'll see whatever he has under his sleeves." Olga said from Ritsuka's communicator while her hologram rubbed her eyes.
"I agree, Director. Still, to think that we were just meters away from The Witch herself…
Ritsuka nodded, but said nothing, yet Jeanne could see clear as day that something was going on in his mind.
And in hers too, something a bit more trivial, but also far more important.
"...Is there something you want to say, Ruler?" Archer asked from beside her, breaking her out of her musing.
"...I'm just thinking, it doesn't make sense." She said after a brief silence.
"How none of us ever even sensed her? Yeah, but we don't even know the mastermind behind the incineration of humanity yet, it's very possible that this is their doing."
"Well, yes, but that wasn't what I was referring to." She replied, sighing. There was one more thing that bugged her.
"Oh? Are you talking about King, then? It's strange that he kept it from us, but as someone who saw everything he did before this singularity, let's just say that it's better to just trust him."
"I agree, but I wasn't talking about that either. It's just that, I do have a sister, but–"
A yell.
Head turned towards the door, then–
"Fafnir. We meet once more."
A name.
Fafnir.
And briefly, Jeanne wondered how it was the yell that they heard first rather than the sound of Siegfried leaving their group, but she put those thoughts aside and charged outside the inn alongside everyone else, weapon in hand.
"...What?"
It was Mash that first spoke, but Jeanne was sure everyone there, including her, asked the same thing in their mind.
Just a day ago– no, a minute ago, Bordeaux was quiet, and the only noise she had been hearing was her own thoughts. Now? Wyverns blocked the sun, making it seem as if night had fallen, and in the middle of it all, a gigantic dragon stood opposite Siegfried, their eyes locked as the saber panted for breath.
Somehow, that wasn't the most alarming sight, no, that distinction belonged instead to the people of Bordeaux.
CRASH
"What are you doing?! Run away!" Achilles shouted to a passing woman as he held back a charging wyvern with one of his hands, having reacted and moved first among the servants. The woman, on her part, only quizzically tilted her head at the rider.
"But why? Look at all these clothes! I can't wait to buy more for the next show!" She said, twirling to show off the merchandise she was wearing.
"...What?" Achilles managed, before grunting and shoving his spear into the wyvern's head, killing it. "Worry about that later, won't you?! Just go away for now!" He yelled.
The woman giggled before skipping her way out of sight in a normal, even almost slow pace, unbothered by the flickering shadows that were casted upon her by the wyverns.
"What the hell?! Why aren't these guys running away?!" Cu Chulainn complained through gritted teeth, as he too fended away several wyverns from the careless onlookers. "And why are these fuckers so damn tough now?!" He yelled, throwing his spear through several of the creatures, which Jeanne saw decimate the wyverns entirely before, now only leaving holes where they were struck, to which Jeanne also noticed red eyes seemingly merged into their skins.
It still killed them, yes, but the increase in durability was… alarming.
"Shit, what the hell is happening here? No matter, defend the citizens! Make it your top priority for the time being!" Olga shouted.
"Right, director! Everyone, protect anyone you can!" Ritsuka shouted, and leaped alongside Mash.
Jeanne didn't need any more words for her to follow suit.
King yawned.
It read 8:07 on his communicator, some one hour past the alarm he set it to, and he sighed.
'Hope the others aren't gonna be too mad at me for being late.'
He'd spent some time looking for Jean before he finally went to sleep, more than he'd like to admit, about an hour or so. But of course he did, she just up and left without saying anything, before even properly seeing her sister! Was it something he said again? About her tattoo? Man, he should think twice before giving unsolicited advice, shouldn't he?
Thankfully, being an avid gamer for so long had its benefits, and even though he was more than three hours late to his usual bedtime, he only woke up an hour late, with no visible eyebags.
'Today's the day, huh?' He thought to himself, scratching his chin. Other than failing to say goodbye to Jean, he wouldn't say he had anything left to do here. If anything, he wanted to get out as soon as possible. Well, maybe after saying goodbye to Eli.
'...Huh, no one's here.'
That was strange. He knew he was late by thirty or so minutes, but he figured that at least one person would stay in the inn before they would plan and start the assault. He remembered that Olga said that it'd start at nine o'clock, and the others' rooms didn't sound occupied either.
'Speaking of the assault, I sure got lucky this time.' He thought to himself, smiling slightly. He was to stay behind for most of it, acting as commander alongside Ritsuka as the servants would push back against the wyverns alongside France's soldiers.
Should be easy enough, until they'd meet Jeanne's impostor anyway, but he'd cross that bridge when he got there.
'Well, I guess I should go outside, huh?' He should meet at least one of them if he just walked around for a bit, that was what he thought,
So imagine his surprise when he met all of them gathered in front of the inn.
The first thing that went through King's mind was brief confusion, why were they gathered around in front of the inn like this? So he opened his mouth to ask, 'Morning. What are you all doing here?'
The second thing that went through his mind was how oddly dark it was. The weather was cloudless sunny yesterday, and cloudless moon last night, so why was it so cloudy all of a sudden?
The third thing that went through his mind was the sight of a gigantic dragon in the middle of Bordeaux revealed by the sudden exit of the servants and Ritsuka from his line of sight, almost rivaling buildings in size, just as the letter W first left his lungs and into his throat.
The last thing that went through his mind, and his sight, was said dragon's gigantic, spiny tail.
"What the fu–"
Ritsuka was surprised at a great many things this morning. Well, this morning and last night too, he supposed.
The first surprise came in the form of an announcement and impromptu meeting, just as he was ready to hit the hay to prepare for today. It turned out that 'Jean' was in fact The Witch, the one responsible for this singularity, all along, and King knew. He knew, and he hid her identity from the rest of them.
Strangely, Ritsuka wasn't all too mad about that revelation, or at all, if he was being honest. Something about Jeanne's 'sister' had been off from the start, but he chalked it up to nerves, seeing as her secret meetings with King were exposed. The outburst she showed later? Much harder to justify, but he did anyway. He didn't know who she was then, and even after he did now, many things about her were still a mystery.
But somehow, in his heart, Ritsuka thought– no, knew that King did the right thing.
The second surprise was more violent and sudden, like a thunderstorm in a bright afternoon. The appearance of a dragon– an actual dragon, Fafnir, Siegfried's nemesis, accompanied by a swarm of wyverns seemingly popping out of thin air. And if that wasn't enough, the people of Bordeaux seemed to be in some sort of trance, barely reacting to the carnage around them. Which left him and the servants to protect them while Siegfried fended off Fafnir.
The last surprise came from himself, as his feet moved in tandem with Mash and Archer's, and not trailing behind.
"Mash! That wyvern is feinting! Shield that woman!" He yelled before he could think, ignoring the nagging questions of 'since when did they do that?', 'Are those eyes on its wings?', and 'how the hell did I catch that?'.
"A-ah, yes, Senpai!" Mash said before she struck the wyvern's away from the smiling woman, with Archer's arrows following the attack and killing the creature. Trailing the arrows, another shadow appeared on his peripheral and–
"Archer! Another's coming this way, shoot it down!"
The servant moved before the sentence was fully spoken, yet distinctly after it started. Three projectiles flew across the street, and hit their target as a wyvern fell with three arrows in its head. Immediately, Archer notched back a few more arrows, his eyes tracking the skies.
Then, the cry of a baby. His eyes darted immediately. It was a mother and her baby, the former shaking the little human up and down while smiling, unaware of the wyvern swooping down on them both.
'Shit! Archer's still shooting and Mash is too far! Who can–'
His train of thought stopped there. His mind instead registered a sudden movement, a change in position, like teleportation. But it wasn't teleportation, no.
His knees wouldn't be bending and going forward if it was.
At that moment, it became so easy. There were only two choices, do, or don't.
And Ritsuka chose to do.
He tackled the lady and grasped the baby between their bodies. He winced as he felt a slight graze hitting his ankles as he tumbled down with the woman in a mess of limbs plus a baby. He heard another roar from the wyvern, before it died down courtesy of the myriad of arrows that had pierced its body.
He felt a gaze on the back of his head, Archer's, Ritsuka realized. The boy turned around, and met the archer's eyes with his own.
"That's all of them around here, Master. …Did something happen?" Mash asked as the three reunited, warily looking between her master and the other servant locked in a staredown, both of them opting a neutral, level gaze at the other.
"...Nothing, Mash. Let's go back to the town square. Siegfried needs help."
"R-right!"
There would be time for talking later.
They ran, or in his case held onto Mash's shoulders, to the square to find an all out assault at Fafnir by every servant sans the two by his side.
Yet, through blue beams of magical energy, divine fire, and slashes by steel, the dragon showed no visible damage on his body and retaliated in kind, slamming his claws, sending shockwaves that ripped the ground apart, and breathing fire, which turned the city into an infernal landscape.
He heard the sound of magic rippling through the air, and in an instant Archer disappeared from his side, engaging the dragon with his twin swords, which, somehow, also did no damage to the rampaging dragon.
He heard the sound of metal trampling the ground beside him, and he held his left arm to the advancing Mash. She sent him a confused look, but he shook his head at her.
"...Just trust me, Mash. Stay here, go behind me." He whispered.
The shielder didn't even hesitate before nodding.
So Ritsuka watched, because what else could he do? He couldn't face that thing head on like how King would, or fight it like how Archer would, or even defend it like how Jeanne could.
But there was one thing this weakling could do.
It was something only he could do.
"Gandr!" He shouted, and his uniform gathered power from one of the engraved mystic codes within it, the Combat Uniform, if he remembered correctly, and from his palm shot out a bullet of magical energy. It hit the dragon square in the face.
Then, a pause. Archer looked at him like he was already a dead body. Fire gathered in Fafnir's maw as his eyes saw Ritsuka.
They saw him only.
"Mash! Use your noble phantasm!"
"Yes, Senpai! Lord Chaldeas!"
The fire approached him faster than he could give an order. But he expected that, so he gave the order just before the dragon's jaws fully unhinged and the blue fire approached him.
As such, the fire met the barrier from Mash's shield instead, Lord Chaldeas, and if it could shield him from King Arthur's Excalibur, than this was nothing for his kouhai.
He believed in her.
And that faith would be rewarded, as his eyes saw the last of the flames leave the dragon's mouth while Mash's barrier was still erected. The only sign of struggle in Mash was the slight wrinkle on her face.
Now, for step two.
"Cu Chulainn! Jump!"
The lancer turned to look at him briefly, and even through his stoic eyes Ritsuka could tell he didn't understand. But true to his epithet, he obeyed regardless and jumped towards Fafnir. Just in time for Lord Chaldeas to absorb every single bit of flame the dragon spewed.
'Perfect.'
"Mystic Code: Order Change!" He shouted, invoking his uniform once more, and the soft sound of feet landing beside him lacked the metallic clang that Mash's had. Da Vinci had explained to him briefly how each of his new three spells worked, but seeing teleportation via exchanging two servants' location was something else.
Above Fafnir, Mash raised her shield up high, energy– the dragon's own, gathering power at its center.
"HAAAH!" Mash yelled and slammed her shield onto Fafnir's face, the impact accompanied by a gigantic blue explosion almost as large as the beast itself.
When smoke cleared and Mash landed back on the ground, the sight of the dragon, headless but still standing greeted them, prompting the sheathing of weapons for some and sighs of relief from the others, including himself.
"...So you can be ballsy too, huh, master." Cu Chulainn said beside him, snorting. "Thought only King could do that."
"...I try."
A sound caught his attention, and the others' too was the sounds of weapons being raised rang through the air in tandem.
Masses of… something wrapped around the body of Fafnir, the same something that wrapped the dragon's body with eyes. First at the stump where his head once was, creating a base, then the masses, red and black in color, wrapped around itself, somehow eating each other despite the appendages' lack of mouths. Despite the act of mutual consumption between the writhing masses, it somehow built upon the stump, in the shape of a head, a dragon's head.
Before anyone knew what to do, the appendages lost its red color and Fafnir was back whole.
"Clever tactic, much better than I expected, one of humanity's last master." It said, his voice pleasant and soothing despite coming from a dragon.
'Faint praise.' Ritsuka thought to himself sarcastically. What good was it if it was still alive?
"It has been a pleasure meeting you all formally here, but I'm afraid my services are required elsewhere, if you would excuse me. So farewell, all of you." Its eyes moved, and landed on Murasaki. "And especially to you, my lady."
She flinched at his words, averting her eyes.
True to his word, the dragon (or was it a dragon? After that display, Ritsuka thought that the word 'dragon' failed to describe its true nature) began flapping its wings and ascending to the skies, creating shockwaves on the ground.
"Do you think I will allow you, Fafnir?! Balm–"
The chant to the noble phantasm was stopped by a hand on Siegfried's own.
"Karna?"
"Save your energy, Siegfried. I feel that we are heading for a bigger battle."
"But if we don't stop him now, he'll destroy the other cities!" The saber argued.
The lancer took his time to respond, his eyes instead gazing up to the sky where Fafnir was still visible, the creature showing its back to them, and Ritsuka noticed something on the demigod.
There was a glint in Karna's eyes.
"...No, I don't think he will."
Siegfried stared at his fellow warrior for what felt like too long, before lowering his sword, opting to watch the dragon leave with the others.
It was quiet now, with only the ambience of dust from ruined buildings and distant chatter from the still carefree citizens they had evacuated a few hundred meters from the town square ringing in Ritsuka's ears, and he couldn't help but ask the obvious question.
"...What now?"
Another impromptu meeting, it turned out.
"...I don't really know what to say, to be honest." Olga began, and Ritsuka couldn't think of a worse opening line for the situation. "Miss Murasaki, you said that Bune, that merchant–" "Banker, director." "–banker, morphed into a… dragon? And not just any dragon but– Fafnir?" The director shot a look at Siegfried, half exasperated, half questioning.
"That was Fafnir, my good miss. I couldn't be mistaken. Though those eyes… they are unfamiliar to me." Siegfried confessed.
"But– but how does that even happen?! Isn't Fafnir the dragon you slew? How could it just– manifest like that?" Romani asked, panic clear as day on his face.
"I think you're misunderstanding something, sir." An unfamiliar voice said, to which they all turned their heads to.
"Gilles?"
"Jeanne!"
"Rest assured, that is the true Marshall Gilles de Rais. As for me, I am Saint George, rider." The man walking alongside Gilles said. "As for the circumstances that led us all to this situation, let me explain."
He explained first about his own summoning, a few days before Chaldea themselves rayshifted. How he met the dying Gilles and nursed him back to health. From there, Gilles told him of his impostor, and Bune, who accompanied the copy. They tailed him since then, and ended up in Marseille where they crossed paths with Murasaki, and how she mistook them for The Witch's servants. Their path ended here, where they confronted Bune, thinking that it was the safest time with the lack of wyverns and enemy servants.
Of course, they all knew how that ended.
"And as for Bune's transformation into Fafnir… It might have something to do with those papers he told you to spread around, Lady Murasaki."
"I… I knew it… I'm responsible for this, aren't I? …But how does a few stacks of paper trigger such an extreme transformation?" She asked through an ashamed face and a few held back tears.
"Fafnir manifests when greed conquers the land. It can appear in people too, if their greed is overwhelming enough." Siegfried explained. "Though for him to transform that quickly… something is off."
"It was my noble phantasm, Lord Siegfried. One of its abilities transforms its target into a dragon. I bear quite a lot of responsibility as well." Georgios said.
"...Damn! Were we dancing on their palms all along?!" Olga shouted, banging her table in frustration.
"Unlikely." James said suddenly, and Ritsuka knew then the value of being mostly silent as all heads turned towards him when he spoke. "Unless Elizabeth Bathory is a plant."
"I'm not!" She protested, hands on her hips while pouting.
"Yes, I can attest to that. She is nowhere near good enough at acting to pull it off." Kiyohime added.
"Hey!"
"...Yes, you're right, James. That was King's idea and no one else's, and he of all people couldn't possibly be compromised." The director stated confidently, and no one disagreed with that.
"I think it was an opportunistic move by our enemies." Marie said. "Our idol shows attracted a lot of attention, especially after we started selling those shirts and other trinkets. He was a banker, non? He must've lent the citizens money to buy everything they wanted!"
"...It was weird that normal peasants had that much money on them, now that I think about it." Archer admitted.
"So they saw us making money by selling all that merch, and decided to hijack it to summon that dragon?" Achilles asked before sighing. "Man, can't they just let us have that one?" He continued, sounding genuinely disappointed at the disturbance of the idol shows.
"So that move both benefited us, and also sent us back to square one, huh?" Mash added.
There was an air of somberness that accompanied the ensuing silence. There was an especially frustrated silent growl from Elizabeth, who looked like she wanted to kill Bune, and maybe she could if she had some sort of eye powers.
But, Ritsuka thought differently.
"...No, I think it benefited us more in the end." He said, and he felt a lot of eyes turning to him. "In the end, we got a lot more servants, the military, and the people on our side, while all they got was one dragon and a buff to the wyverns, right?" He recounted. "So, if you ask me, I think it was a panicked pivot more than anything… and maybe, just maybe, King planned all this."
"Master King planned this, you say?" Kojiro asked.
"It's a speculation, but… I wouldn't put it past him. He knew that it would give advantages to both us and The Witch, but he has faith for us to win despite that. That's what I believe, anyway." Ritsuka affirmed, to which he could almost see the morale in the room rising physically.
'Oh well, leave it to King to have that effect.' Ritsuka knew better than most how that felt.
Olga's lips pursed, and Ritsuka couldn't blame her. That was one more thing King had kept secret from them, but he knew she would understand, and knew that King would know that she would understand.
"...So, what do you think, Ritsuka? Should we wait one more day and tell the troops advancing here to stop?"
"...No. If we allow them to regroup and increase the amount and strength of the wyverns, we might not get a chance like this again. We're marching to Orleans today, director. Send a message to the soldiers en route here, and tell them that we have our work cut out for us today." Ritsuka said in a tone he didn't know he had in him.
Cu Chulainn chuckled. "So, an all out assault, huh? Now that's what I'm talking about."
"I-I agree. I need to take responsibility for Bune, so– we'll ride, today." Murasaki said with conviction, the only sign she even cried being the slightly red marks below her eyes.
"Yes, Senpai! I think this is for the best too!" Mash chimed in.
One by one, the servants voiced their approval, until all but one did.
"Archer?" He asked, though the question unsaid, looking at the dark skinned man.
Archer leaned back towards the wooden beam his back was leaning on while closing his eyes, before sighing.
"...Very well."
"Then, it's settled. We ride when the soldiers come here." Olga confirmed. "Meeting dismissed. Prepare for the assault and godspeed."
With that, her form disappeared, and they immediately went to work. Planning, deciding the best route to Orleans, and how to take care of the inevitable resistance from the wyverns, not a single one of them stayed still as they awaited the hooves of the soldiers' horses to reach their ears.
Victory would be theirs, this Ritsuka believed– had to believe. The fate of humanity rests on it, on their shoulders.
On all of them.
…All?
"...Wait, where's King?"
King felt like he was flying among the clouds.
Why?
Well, because he was.
He could barely think about where, why, or how he was flying. All he knew was that he needed to put all his focus into his fingers and grip tightly onto whatever-the-fuck it was that kidnapped him into the skies.
Everywhere he looked, there was only blue, and the implication of his altitude sent his mind spinning, making him inadvertently look down–
–and meet the pillowy sight of clouds.
…
…
…
No.
He didn't want to think anymore.
But that wasn't an option, was it? Not when the wind is hitting his cheeks so furiously. So, he dared to turn his neck, first down and back, to his own flannel.
To find a spike of… something penetrating it, and King figured that was how he had been lifted up so high.
'...Wait, what kind of spike lifts you up like this?' He dared to ask in his mind.
Slowly, fighting against the electrons in his brains shouting 'NO!' and every single profanity that he knew, King turned to the opposite side, where black leather adorned by red eyes met him. His eyes trailed even more, like playing back the scene of a gruesome murder that had already happened, but he was the victim.
There was a sound in his ears, even against the roaring wind, and it took him several seconds to notice that it was his own teeth clattering.
For he saw the head of a dragon.
And memories came rushing.
"AHHHHH!"
Adrenaline kicked in and he let out all the fear his brain had suppressed all in one scream. He almost flailed around before the sound of his flannel ripping further from the movement brought him back to his senses.
Or as much as it could while being strung up this high in the air, anyway.
'FUCK! Right, I went out from the inn and I saw–' A dragon, yes, this one, bigger than any of the wyverns his servants made short work of, so this one was an actual dragon. The last thing he remembered was a tail coming his way– before he passed out and woke up here.
Just his fucking luck.
'Is this Karma? Is this my punishment for tricking Ritsuka?' King couldn't help but think. He pushed the kid down a dangerous path while thinking how much of a breeze today was going to be, and the divine powers that be struck him down for his hubris.
Ha. Haha. Hahahahaha.
'Yeah, maybe I deserve this.'
Suddenly, a jerking movement, by the dragon, not him, and it dived.
King heard a girlish scream, was someone there with him?
Of course not, it had come out from his own mouth.
'NEVERMIND, NEVERMIND! I DON"T WANNA DIE LIKE THIS!' His hands gripped even tighter to the dragon's rough tail, ignoring whatever pain it brought to his hands, wrist, and forearms.
As if said divine powers heard him, the dragon slowed down, coming back to its stable pace, maybe even slower than before. King breathed a sigh of– well, not relief. He'd save that for when (or if) he was back on the ground.
But a pricking feeling on his neck ended that sigh. On instinct, he turned to that source of pricking feeling.
King's mouth unhinged in a scream– or an attempt to scream.
The damned dragon looked back, at him.
For a moment, King thought that was it, and attempted to make peace with his life, only to discover that some hundred (or maybe thousand, he didn't fucking know) meters above the sky didn't make for a good confessional, actually.
So here he was, at an altitude unbefitting of a human being without an aircraft, locked in a staring contest against a dragon that could kill him anytime he wanted.
But instead, in a form of cruelty or mercy, King didn't know, it turned its head back to the front, and increased its speed, which King thought wasn't so scary anymore after that brief staredown with its draconic eyes.
Now, in flight with only his hands serving as seatbelts, all he could ask for was one thing.
'...Please someone help me.'
She didn't want to fight.
She didn't want to open her eyes either. Or get off her seat.
If anything, she would like nothing more than if the world simply… destroyed itself in the passage of time between the closing of her eyes and the next time she would open them.
"My Lady."
If only.
She sighed, and made the littlest move necessary for her gaze to meet her second-in-command, or the only one under her command now, except if you counted the countless wyverns that circled Orleans. She sure as hell didn't.
"Gilles." She began.
And stopped, because what was there to talk about?
"Yes, my lady?"
Nothing. There was nothing.
"...No, nevermind." She said, deflated, and instead opted to look at her surroundings.
Château Royal de Blois, the castle where The King had once resided before she turned him to ashes. She was in the throne room, where she had first taken the mantle of 'Saintess' after burning The King and blaming it on 'The Dragon Witch', usurping the military and adopting a new look to match her new persona, one that closer resembled her other self.
Fast forward less than a week, and her other was now 'The Saintess', and she 'The Goat Fucker'.
And no one wanted to take orders from a goat fucker.
So it was two versus, what, thirty thousand?
What was there to even do?
"Choose."
She grasped that memory and burned it away, stomped, spitted on it.
That didn't matter anymore.
"Who you can't choose to be… doesn't dictate what you can choose to be."
But it persisted, nudged at her brain no matter how much she tried to kill it.
And it repeated, over, and over, and over again.
"Spare your mind the unease, my lady." Her marshall said, placing a hand on her shoulder.
She scoffed, but it lacked any of her usual malice. "Easy for you to say." She said, brushing his hand off. She then twirled her hair, gray now, for there was no more point in keeping up appearances as a 'Saintess'.
Those silver and blue armor could go to hell too. Black was much cooler anyway.
"Worry not, My Lady. Soon, none of this would be your problem. I promise you that."
"You've been saying that for a while." She said, unenthusiastic. "Sure would do some good if it actually becomes true."
Gilles chuckled.
"No worries, my lady. I promise it will happen today."
'Yeah, right.'
She sighed again, this time standing up from her throne.
"Fafnir has awakened, my lady, from my partner." He said, following her as she strolled the empty castle.
"Yeah? And that matters how, exactly? One dragon against all those servants– how is that supposed to help." She retorted. This was the first she heard of it, so it was a recent development, aka too little, too late.
But Gilles only chuckled. "Why, I just received word that the servants struggled with him, actually. Not a dent on his body, my lady, and he will be here soon.
"...Is he now? That's… good, I guess." She responded, her eyes locked towards the direction of Bordeaux from a window. There was a black dot in the skies, approaching their direction, which told her that Gilles had indeed been telling the truth. Couldn't Gilles tell her all this sooner? Now that his ace in the sleeve was out, maybe she could…
…Something wasn't right.
She was angry last night, so angry at his deception. But now she couldn't even feel the glee she should've felt at turning the tables once more at her enemies. Or the frustration she should've felt at France's current opinion of her. Or even simple anger.
All because he knew, and never told her that he did.
All because he strung her along while saying that he wanted to 'help' her.
All because he deceived her.
'Or was it dece–'
She killed that line of thought immediately, pinching her own exposed thigh with the clawed hands of her armor, drawing blood.
"Something that trivial won't change who you are to me."
Yet parts of it escaped anyway.
"...Fuck." She breathed out.
It was all his fault. She wanted to kill him.
…No, that wasn't right.
She didn't have enough energy to hate anymore. Want? That was far too much of a word, she couldn't muster that kind of energy anymore.
She just needed to kill him. To move on from the words he spouted.
"...Gilles."
He turned to her.
"Let's get this over with."
Hey
This took a while, huh?
I just got back from my internship, and straight into college, so I needed time to adjust writing back into my schedule. Sorry about that, and maybe the somewhat lackluster chapter. It was supposed to be longer, to be honest, but scenes kept popping in my head and I decided to split it into two, so now there's some two or three chapters left for this arc if we include the epilogue.
So, yeah, Bune, a demon god pillar, obviously.
I took some liberties with lore for this one, namely the 'Fafnir gets stronger when people are more greedy' thing, but I needed stakes, and if it was just normal Fafnir, the servants allied with Chaldea can just stomp it.
Now, Fafnir, and by extension the wyverns, are all buffed/fused with Bune, so things should be a lil more interesting.
Gilles and Georgios finally comes into the story... with two chapters left. Yeah, sorry for their fans if there are any. They didn't factor in much to my plans beside this ending stretch. They will have some roles, but compared to what I've given Elizabeth for example... yeah, sorry.
Anyway, tell me what you think.
Later