III.
The face of the individual who now stood before Rider, radiant as it was in all its royal bearing, like a French equivalent of King Arthur or Emperor Nero, was exactly that of the king whom he would go on to serve in his later years of military service. Rider, the Chevalier d'Artagnan, now found himself face to face with King Louis XIV. In his mind there could be no doubt of it, so greatly were the features of the monarch whom he had served so faithfully engraved upon his memory and he could think of no other to whom this illustrious countenance could belong.
"My... my king." Rider stammered out. "I don't understand. How come you here? And like this?"
Berserker stood silently for some moments, Rider's questions seeming to have no effect on them, their countenance in an expression of furious confusion.
"My king, I-" Rider started.
"What?" Berserker interrupted. "What title, what name, did you attribute to me?" A tremor, though now only barely discernible, was starting to shake their frame and slowly grow in severity, as Berserker directed their own questions at Rider.
"Am I wrong? Are you not his Majesty, King Louis XIV? Have I mistaken my lord and monarch thus?" Rider's tone was almost one of anger, himself confused by this unprecedented development.
Louise was surprised at this burst of absolute deference from her Servant who had, until now, shown the utmost loyalty to only her.
"Wrong?" Berserker asked. "Wrong? He dares to call me by that name and asks if he is wrong to address me thus?!" The tremulous movements of their frame grew more violent as their tone of voice grew louder and uncharacteristically emotional.
"But you are Louis XIV! You must be my king!" Rider was in a state he could not explain, the face of the monarch to whom he had pinned so many hopes appearing before him seemed to have awakened deep held regrets to which he now could not resist giving vent to.
"Do NOT call me by that name!" Berserker yelled, all their usual delicacy and natural politeness having completely evaporated. "Do not even SPEAK IT in my presence!"
"If you are NOT my master, then who are you, to dare to wear his face before me?" Rider barked.
At this phrase, "My master," Louise could not prevent a cloud passing over her brow, a sense of deeply wounded pride stabbing into her heart.
"Dare, you say? You say I DARE to wear it? This curse with which I was born? This thing of which I have NO control? The mark which has ruined my every CHANCE at a normal and peaceful existence?!" Berserker's tone was becoming more and more disjointed as their sense, it seemed, was melting away, washed into oblivion by the torrents of their now-building rage. "OH, unhappy man that you are, do you not think I would DISCARD this wretched resemblance if only that I COULD?! You are very cruel to deny me even my own IDENTITY thus!" Berserker went into a low crouch, their clothing stretching and tearing as their body morphed and bulged with rapidly expanding musculature, what was before an almost overlong frame now proportionate to the rippling brawn that was springing supernaturally forth. "You wish to KNOW who I am, and why I am here? I WILL tell you! I am they who were SHUNNED! Those who were locked away in OBSCURITY. I! I am they who were the discarded SIBLING of your beloved, Louis XIV!" The hated name pronounced in a tone of mocking incredulity. "MY NAME IS PHILLIPE!"
Rider had no time to respond to or even process this explosive declaration of identity, accompanied as it was by Berserker launching themselves toward him with an air of murderous intent. Even though they did not employ the Noble Phantasm that allowed their sudden appearance at locations, their newly acquired physical capabilities still allowed them to reach Rider with imperceptible speed. The chevalier did manage to bring his sword up in a manner of defense, but all the modest block could do was prevent him suffering the greater part of the blow's strength. The force of the attack sent him flying down the street, staying airborne for several dozen feet before carving a shallow crater with his flailing body.
The mask, which now lay on the street as nothing more than scattered shrapnel, had been a Noble Phantasm of it's own. The Iron Mask, as it was so called, had held Phillipe's identity safely and secretly behind its metallic barrier and with it, kept their incredibly high ranked madness enhancement in check. It allowed for them a large portion of its supernatural strength, while denying the withering effects such a thing had on the mind of the Servant afflicted with it. They were, however, now free of the mask's pacifying attributes and the madness that had lay dormant for so long, now flowed freely through their body.
"Where is your KING now?! Your monarch? Your RULER!? Is he HERE before you!?" They screamed into the night, their lamentations directed it seemed as much towards heaven itself as they were towards Rider.
The dust of Rider's violent impact had cleared and, by way of reply to Berserker's question, he came charging forward on his post horse. The beast bore down on the cavalier's opponent, its massive hooves raised to crush the senseless enemy before it.
Berserker did not seem at all threatened by the massive animal bearing down on them and plunged their mangled right hand deep through the chest of the unfortunate creature. As they channeled their strength into their wrist and flicked the helpless beast aside, as though it weighed nothing whatsoever, they felt a sharp sensation in their left shoulder as Rider, who having foreseen the destruction of his mount, had launched himself from atop it and came crashing down like and avenging meteor to plunge his sword through his deranged enemy. The sky, it seemed, had seen Rider set the example, and his descent was soon followed by the sudden return of the heavy rains from earlier that night, thick sheets of water pouring down on the violent scene that was unfolding in the street below.
"NYA-HA-HA-HA-HA!" Berserker's only reply to what would for anyone else be a debilitating attack, was to laugh maniacally as their vital fluids spewed forth, the still-attached Rider being covered in equal measure by gushing blood and pouring rain. The utterly mad Servant seized their attacker between their mangled limb and remaining good hand and, with a sickly noise, peeled the sword from their flesh by wrenching its wielder off their person. With a mad smile plastered on their face Berserker tossed Rider skyward, their strength now beyond all limits sending him soaring dozens of feet into the air.
Before Rider could fully comprehend what was happening to him his opponent was suddenly above him, and with a swing of their mighty arm, sent him spiraling back to the earth below. There was a sound, like a cannonball demolishing a rampart, as the Servant collided with the street below. Berserker landed with surprising grace at the edge of the crater they had just used their opponent to create and, an unsettling chuckle continuously escaping from their lips, gazed upon their work to see if he yet still lived.
With an unbelievable force of will Rider dragged himself to his feet, his sword raised in defiance. He could only convince his crushed and bloody arm to rise just under chest height, but a bend of the elbow allowed him to still point the blade with audacious menace. His left hand, the one in which the pistol had exploded, and had suffered considerable additional punishment at this point, hung almost useless at his side. The brazen, almost arrogant expression that he wore despite everything proved to Louise that he had a plan, that he must have noticed something he could use to his advantage.
Berserker, seeing their opponent's bravado, stopped laughing and let the rage take over. They charged yet again, just barely but perceptibly slower than before. A swift uppercut knocked Rider up the side of the crater and back onto the flat surface of the street. The cavalier kept his footing from this strike and once again raised his sword.
It was at this attack that Louise noticed what must have given Rider hope that the battle could be won. When Berserker had first lost the mask their movement and attacks had both been nigh impossible in their strength and speed. But as the fight continued they had been rather quickly forced to rely once more on their sudden appearance Noble Phantasm in order to keep the advantage over Rider, and the slightly slowed pace of their latest attack was proof that they were running out of mana that they could expend on even that. Their current form, empowered as much as it was by the double-edged sword of their high ranked Madness Enhancement, was using magical energy faster than its source could generate. This realization caused Louise to look worriedly on Rosa whom she still held in her grasp.
Rosa didn't look particularly drained or emburdened, at least not more than she had during the whole night. If anything she looked as though she were breathing easier, and there seemed to be less black ichor pouring from her wounds than usual. Her face was one of almost calm, her eyes glazed over and her mouth slightly agape, and she was only barely still struggling against Louise's grasp. It was then that Louise realized that Berserker was drawing mana faster from Rosa than the Tulip could. Until now the Black Tulip had been, through its heretical systems, drawing Rosa's mana into itself and multiplying it with its own twisted circuits. But if the mana was being drawn from Rosa by a different source before the chimerical system could, then its encroachment on her body and psyche would be slowed.
This was all well and good to know, but Louise was not sure how much it would help Rider in the moment, much less provide his way to victory. Yes, Berserker's body was suffering immensely under the strain of Rider's attacks, but if the enemy Servant wasn't feeling or being slowed by any of them it did little to give him any advantage in the battle. Rider would need to land a single decisive blow to win the contest and, even slowed down as they were, Berserker was not likely to give him that chance.
-"Rider."- Louise sent a telepathic message to her Servant. -"If I give you an opening, will you be able to finish this in one blow?"-
Rider was surprised by the question. He knew that his Master was incredibly low on mana and also occupied keeping Rosa at bay. If his Master was going to offer to help though, it behooved him to accept. -"The mana expenditure would be great but, yes, if given an opening I believe I am capable of ending this."-
That was all the assurance Louise needed, so much did she believe in Rider as her partner. Louise doubted any form of hypnosis would work on someone as mad as Berserker, but she had seen by Ali's example that arresting magic did have effect on the insane Servant. "Sorry, Rosa." Louise dipped her fingers into one of the other woman's wounds and with the blood that coated her fingertips, drew a magic circle on the ground in front of her. She began the chant for the only spell she knew that she thought might be able to hold Berserker for any length of time.
"Look at you!" Berserker yelled as they advanced menacingly on Rider. "You can barely even STAND or raise your SWORD! You're pathetic. You're just like ME! Powerless to change your fate, and completely ALONE!"
"I am not alone." Rider replied scornfully.
It was then that Louise finished her incantation. "Ensnare!" She yelled. Dark purple lines of magic extended from the circle she had drawn in blood and traced the ground for a dozen feet before they shot upward and wrapped themselves around Berserker's limbs. There were too few of them compared to the multitude of Ali's that had ensnared them during the last battle, and they would only buy so much time, but it was all Louise could do with no prep and her resources already pushed to their limits. Berserker felt themselves arrested and began frustratedly tearing at the magical binding that held them, their wet grip slipping constantly due to the deluge that poured over them.
"I stand before you on only my own power." Rider began, his sword raised before him in salute. "But I am not alone. We are tied together in the bonds of brotherhood and friendship." A pale azure light began to emanate from Rider's frame as motes of a similar hue slowly floated up from the ground at his feet. Despite the rain pouring down an unseen force caused his tabard to billow upward. "Porthos! Your herculean strength and unbreakable spirit!" The blue phantom of a titanic solider, dressed in a similar uniform to Rider, rose from the earth behind him, a sword, equally massive, clutched in its hand. "Aramis! Your unrivaled genius and incontrovertible acumen!" A second spectre joined the first, a long mustache and pointed nose highlighted the insightful look upon its countenance. It too held a rapier in salute. "And Athos! Your immovable honor and imperious authority!" A third and final spirit rose to join the other two. Though only a projection, the look of caring admiration it cast on Rider was clear as it raised its sword to join the others. "We are," Rider continued, "The four inseparables!" The blue energy that had been increasing in quantity all suddenly gathered and swirled around Rider's sword, the tip of the blade raised higher to touch the outstretched weapons of his ethereal companions. "All for one! AND ONE FOR ALL!" Rider thrust his blade and the spirits of his friends did the same. They, all four, flew rather than charged toward Berserker, who had just then removed the last of Louise's magical bonds.
It was too late though, the four friends were upon them. All at once the four blades impaled the crazed Servant, and the energy that had built up in the swords was released into their target. There was then a violent eruption as the power that had been channeled, nay, poured into Berserker sought vent from within the vessel. The enemy Servant was almost completely rent asunder as the blue energy poured forth from within them, tearing itself free through their flesh everywhere it could. Berserker could not even scream in pain as every orifice, along with their many spreading wounds, was given to vent the built up energy. Rider removed his blade as the conflagration died away, leaving Berserker's body a bloodied heap, barely comprehensible as a person.
Then, as suddenly as they had appeared to help Rider, his three companions vanished, the power used to summon them having expired. "Thank you again, my friends." Rider addressed the night air as he voiced gratitude to the departed spirits. This thanks was punctuated by the sound of Louise and Berserker collectively falling to the ground, the former releasing Rosa as she did so, nearly all her strength spent giving the last of her available mana to power Rider's Noble Phantasm, the latter due to the fatal blow they had just suffered. The rain, still falling with incredible volume, washed the blood from the bodies of all gathered on that street. There was silence for some time before it was replaced by the sound of one of the many participants of the melee slowly and painfully crawling across the ground, a sound that seemed to go unheard by the victorious Servant.
***Author's notes: Something I don't say often enough, which is a serious shame, is how absolutely grateful I am for my editor/beta. Were it not for him and the insane amount of effort he has put in I can guarantee this fic would be nowhere near where it is today. I am unbelievably thankful to have him in my life. This one's for you bro!