II.
"You go on ahead then," Louise said to Rider, a slight hesitation in her voice now that the preparations for their fight with Madame Fenix were complete. "I'll be slightly behind you. I figure you'll be able to carve a bit of a path that I can follow."
"Very well." Rider replied, his own voice equally unsure. He did not linger any longer, he was nervous about the plan already, and feared that any more delay may cause one or both of them to have second thoughts. His post horse materialized and, with one more tip of the hat directed to both Rosa and Louise, Rider rode off into the night. The sound of a group of the maddened people under Lancer's influence was clearly audible to the pair as the crowd angrily took off after the mounted chevalier.
"Are you sure about this?" Louise asked Rosa as she turned to face the young woman. She was still incredibly nervous about the prospect.
"Can do it. Please," Rosa grasped both of Louise's hands in her own as she looked her in the eye. "Believe in me."
Louise hesitated for only a second before responding. "I will." She replied.
The two shared a moment of silence, hesitant to part from one another for a multitude of reasons, when a cry sounded from the alley entrance that Rider had left by. "Here's some more! Burn the heretics!" A crowd of jostling figures gathered behind the one who had called out and were starting to scurry down the alley towards Louise and Rosa, the same rusted and crumbling weapons Louise had seen before clutched in their hands.
"Go." Rosa said calmly as she put herself between Louise and the oncoming crowd.
Louise knew that if she lingered any longer she was liable to never peel herself away from Rosa, and so she turned to leave without another word. She flicked several catalytic stones into the onrushing troop, the small scale explosions knocking several aside and causing a general confusion as they erupted, and then fled down the alley in the opposite direction.
Rosa closed her eyes momentarily and took a deep breath. She was relieved Louise had left with the rapidity she had. Rosa knew that, much like herself, Louise considered the Tulip to be a monster, an accursed thing that haunted her body and her mind. But to Rosa, it was more that the Tulip made her into a monster, and she didn't want the woman she loved to see her as that monster.
As the throng closed in, Rosa released her mental hold and allowed the power of the Tulip to run freely through her again. The black energy of her power immediately flowed out of her body once more, a storm of the onyx petals pouring forth from her back in a pair of great streams. It was like two massive waves crashing into each other; one of flesh, steel and anger, the other of magic, malice, and emotion, as the power of the Tulip and the bodies of the crowd met.
The petals cut clothing and sliced flesh every time they met either one, huge swaths of them pushing individual people into the air and away from the home. "Won't kill again. Not a murderer anymore. Monster." Rosa said to herself as she directed the magic again and again to repel the attackers. "But not that kind of monster anymore!"
Louise could faintly hear the sounds of combat behind her as she rounded the corner onto the Rue de Vaugirard. Being out of the confines of the alley she was able to get a better sense, both audibly and visually, of just how much was going on. Though she had been right that they were currently on the outer edges of the conflict, the signs of disarray were still quite numerous. Upturned vehicles, broken windows and damaged walls were still visible in either direction up and down the road, and her being more out in the open allowed the sounds of discord to float past her more loudly and frequently.
The young mage didn't consider herself as having time to linger too long reflecting on all the destruction. She needed to catch up to Rider, who already had an ample head-start due to being mounted on his Noble Phantasm. Louise was once again lamenting having to leave her scooter behind at the hotel when she noticed that, amongst the other vehicles that were knocked about, a motorcycle was laying on its side on a nearby curb.
Louise could immediately appreciate the more powerful motor and greater speed of the Yamaha MT-07 when compared to her scooter. It wasn't that she didn't still have a soft spot for her more humble vehicle, but the greater capabilities of the motorcycle could not be denied as it roared down the roads at incredible speed, even while having to dodge between the wrecks and shrapnel of other vehicles. The wind was still icy cold, becoming more frigid as the night wore on, and it bit harshly at the young woman's exposed face and neck as it whipped by. Louise was almost grateful for the pain as she was still feeling somewhat shaky due to the earlier ordeal, and the burning, stabbing sensation helped to keep her more focused on driving.
She had been lucky so far due to the route she had chosen, or because Rider really had cleared a path for her, that she had not encountered any real resistance from Lancer's "conscripted" soldiers, but that was soon enough no longer the case. At the next intersection she could see a number of them, all crowded around some other Parisians who were lucky enough, or perhaps unlucky enough, to not have fallen under the mad queen's influence. Though they retained their sense of self, it was precisely that which seemed to mark them out as targets for their more maddened neighbors.
Louise was in a hurry, and she needed to be careful with her dwindled mana reserves, especially now that she was without an external source of mana constantly coming in. She also, however, could not turn a blind eye to the suffering of the innocent citizens of Paris, whose only crime, if it could be called that, was being in the same place that the Holy Grail War was happening.
"Rider would do it too." Louise said to herself with an exhausted smile.
As she gunned the accelerator, cranking her wrist to a ninety degree angle as she did so, Louise mumbled a few magic words under her breath and braced for the impact. The barrier version of her mana blade materialized in front of the bike, two smaller versions of it also appearing to flank either side of the front tire. Mere seconds before colliding with the insensible crowd Louise pulled hard on the brakes and the motorcycle came to a screeching halt, but not before its momentum carried it into the aggressors and the pulsing form of the mana shields knocked a number of them aside.
Louise didn't wait for the bike to finish moving to dismount, several stones flying from each hand in multiple directions to loose their explosive energy, the detonations dispersing the angry crowd. Louise used the bludgeoning properties of her mana shield to finally drive off the more tenacious members of the brainwashed citizens before turning to the still cowering group.
"It's alright now." Louise said through her labored breaths. Most of the people offered alarmed but grateful looks, none of them entirely sure what was happening or how Louise had saved them, before hurrying away. Louise tried to take no offense. She understood the entire situation was far more than the average person could be asked to process right away, and tried to take comfort in the fact that they were, for now at least, safe thanks to her.
"Madame Gordes!" An excited, bewildered, and characteristically enthusiastic voice called out from the one person who had not yet evacuated the area. "Bless me, I never forget the face of a happy customer! It is you!"
Louise had not processed any of the minor details of the scene like the faces of the people whom she had rescued and only now on hearing the man's familiar and always energetic tone did she look and recognize Monsieur Biscarros. "Monsieur!" She called out astonished, suddenly very aware of having performed magic not only in front of common people, but even in front of one who could recognize her. "What are you doing here?"
"A man need not live precisely where he works now does he?" Biscarros seemed to imply he was more excited to talk about himself than he should be given the somewhat dire circumstances. "I have a commute to my humble bistro, I happen to live around this area. When all the commotion started I came out to see what was the matter. I was trying to help those other put upon people, ungrateful as they are not sticking around to thank either of us," Here the baker shook his fist in a mock threat in the general direction many of the others had left in, "when I found myself a bit, oh let us call it, outclassed and outnumbered. Lucky thing you happened by, Madame. I must say you and your bike seemed to make quick work of them."
Biscarros's words, continually cavalier as they were, implied to Louise that he had either not seen the magic she had cast, or not fully comprehended what he had seen. In either case, she could tell she was safe from him knowing anything about her being a mage. "It is honorable of you to try and help others like that, Monsieur, especially given how urgent everything seems to be."
"Ha ha! It is what any right-minded, sensible, and good-natured person would do." Biscarros slapped Louise on the shoulder with his broad hand, a small, almost imperceptible puff of flour escaping from the impact despite his not being at work. "After all, it's what you did."
Louise opened her mouth for a moment to say something before silencing the words and smiling at Biscarros. "Thank you, Monsieur." She walked over to where the bike had come to rest and inspected it for serious damage as it thrummed back into life. "I suggest you find somewhere safe to lay low for a while. I don't recommend any more ill-advised heroics." An invisible wave of magic materialized before Louise's eye, the clear barrier protecting it from the wind in the absence of goggles or a helmet.
"And then what exactly are you off to do, eh?" Biscarros asked, laughing lightly with disbelief.
Louise paused for a moment as she stared down the destroyed road before her, the fires and wreckage only growing denser and worse the further it went, before turning back to the baker. "Something ill-advised."
Ali's Renault Vel Satis, with its owner at the wheel this time, was also making its way rapidly towards the center of the violence. Saber sat calmly in the back of the vehicle as it swerved abruptly around the obstacles that were other derelict and abandoned vehicles.
"I don't know that until now I've really appreciated the sensation of speed, Saber. Is it something you're familiar with? It is exhilarating, but at the same time calming in a way I can't really describe." Ali called back to his Servant as he narrowly dodged a fallen tree that was blocking most of the lane.
"I have some experience with it, yes." Saber replied calmly, though audibly not terribly invested in the subject.
"If I wasn't sure it would damage the car too much I'd be half tempted to just run over this mindless rabble." Ali's tone was more annoyed than anything as he again swerved violently away from a group of zealots who were making just as much effort to not be run over by him.
"Have you so quickly come to loathe the people you spent so many years as one of? The masses to whom you had so completely blended into now offer you so much repugnance you would strike them as though they were roadside vermin?" Saber was somewhat concerned by Ali's comment.
"Me? One of them?" Ali seemed more confused by Saber's comment than anything. "I will correct you, Monsieur, that I was never one of them. Perhaps I was forced to spend a... lengthy amount of time mixing with the dregs of society, but I was always destined for more, born to a higher station."
"Is that so?" Saber turned his gaze out the window, the scenes of destruction seeming to have little effect on the taciturn Servant. "I don't recall that being the case when we first met."
"Ah hell, it was before your time with me by a longshot." Ali's speech, despite his assertions that he was of high birth, was slipping into his more accustomed casual manner, absorbed as his mind mostly was with navigating the path before him. "It was an adolescence that man and his family saw fit to rob me of." The last words were more to himself than to Saber, but the Servant picked them up all the same, and his interest was piqued.
Saber had no time to ask any follow-up questions however. "Incoming from the right." He said calmly.
The heavy thud of a particularly high caliber bullet being fired reverberated through the neighborhood before the luxury car erupted into a massive fireball as the magically enhanced bullet connected with the vehicle.
Mordaunt was a fan of that spell, as it made it so he never needed to carry any actual explosives with him, the magic imbued in his weaponry being just as, if not more, destructive than any rocket-propelled warheads. The rifle was also a better pick considering the state of his leg left him in poor condition to brace any much heavier class of weaponry.
The twisted burning wreckage of the Renault tumbled for a few seconds before it came to rest with its underside facing upward, sliding along for several feet on the roof, a horrible screeching noise left in its wake. Mordaunt was no fool though, and soon enough his suspicions were proven when the passenger-side door, which was one of the few parts of the melted wreckage that could still be identified as being part of a car, exploded outward in a blue flash.
Ali, a little dirty and his hair disheveled but no worse for wear, emerged from the wreckage with a rotating and shifting web of magical runes encircling his person, turning on slow lazy orbits. The young man had before referred to himself as a mage of barriers, and Mordaunt could see he was eager to play the role to the end. "Only ever drops his guard around the select few it seems." The mercenary thought to himself. -"Madame. You're up."-
As Ali dusted himself off and Saber, who had made an easy escape via his spirit form, looked around for signs of their foe, a high pitched whistle sounded on the night air, and the Servant was forced to deftly dodge out of the path of Assassin's needle projectiles. Ali simply stood still and let his barrier absorb the attack, not at all concerned that the minute weapons could have any chance of piercing his magical shield. Saber was annoyed as he was forced to dodge a second, and then a third fusillade, all from different angles of attack, the constant shifting inhibiting him from actually discerning his attacker's location.
Mordaunt didn't like the plan. In fact he hated it. But he felt his back against the wall at this point. With his leg in the condition it was, and the situation for all of Paris as bad as it was, he needed to produce results and have an impact on the Grail War now. He knew Louise was on her way to confront whichever other Master had orchestrated the current state of affairs. Best case scenario, her and the other Master took a decent amount out of each other before one of them was defeated.
What he had to focus on then, was making sure Ali, who he knew to be working in concert with Louise, didn't reach her. Two on one was never an ideal situation in his book, and if the two of them fought alongside each other, the other Master would lose without exhausting their opponent enough, and he would still be stuck dealing with the two of them together. But if he defeated Ali or his Servant here and now, that wouldn't be a problem.
There was one other factor, aside from the rampant destruction, and his injured leg, that had forced Mordaunt into action. And she was currently directing her usual sadistically playful manner of attack towards the enemy duo.
Assassin had gotten restless, annoyed, and impatient, especially so after the defeat at the hotel. It would have been one thing to have been forced away before completing her objective. It would have been another to have to leave before being able to delight in killing anyone. But it was an entirely different thing for her that it was d'Artagnan of all people who had caused both of those insufferable outcomes. She needed bloodshed, and she needed it now, and she was determined to get it from Ali and Lord Wilmore both.
She was only playing with Lord Wilmore, for now. She would attack, assume her spirit form, move silently to a different piece of rubble or overturned vehicle, materialize and attack again, then repeat the process. She wanted to frustrate him, cause him to lose the incessant coolness he never seemed to shed. She wanted to see him break, see that cold, calculating shell crack. That was when she would be truly happy, when she had completely torn him down. Then, and only then, would she actually kill him.
Assassin was right on one point at least, Saber was losing his cool. Less because he worried for he or his Master's safety, and more because he considered this whole encounter to be a waste of time. It was an inevitability in his mind that he would defeat his current assailant, as it was inevitable he would defeat any opponent, so he considered her drawing out the encounter unnecessarily to be nothing more than a needlessly lengthy diversion.
"Ali, will you be able to withstand the opposing Master's attacks if I head out to deal with this obnoxious and impudent excuse for a Servant?" Saber was already casting his cloak aside as he asked the question, the words more a formality than an actual request.
"Of course." Ali shrugged up his shoulders nonchalantly. "I've seen his manner of magic. Powerful as it sometimes is, it is still nothing more than gutter magic at the end of the day."
Saber drew the sword from its sheath at his hip and held the blade momentarily before himself, the salute reserved only for the act of combat itself and in no way offered to his opponent. "Excellent."
He stood perfectly still for a moment, his eyes unblinking, daring Assassin to make another of her pointless attacks. Her Presence Concealment made it so that he could not sense her as another Servant, this was true, but he had paid attention to all the angles her past attacks had come from, and even if she was quick about it, she would still have to reveal herself for a moment for the next strike.
That strike came, just as Saber had guessed it would, from behind the shattered glass of a boutique's display window, the mannequins and clothing all toppled and torn. The Servant's maroon dress swirled as she materialized, performing an exaggerated pirouette as she did so before sending a cloud of needles flying from her fan in Lord Wilmore's direction.
Saber flew from the spot he was standing and with his blade swiped the dangerous projectiles from the air as he closed the distance. Assassin had no time to assume her spirit form and evade the attack, the enemy Servant was upon her nearly instantaneously. She had time only to bring her fan up to parry the incoming blow, smacking the sword's lethal tip away from her with the unassuming weapon.
Saber rained blows down upon his opponent, thrust after thrust each with the aim of being the lethal strike. Assassin kept her usual wry and taunting smile on her face as she dodged and parried, most of the attacks only barely missing her, and many of them slicing her dress or touching her skin, leaving dots of blood whenever they did.
"My you're so eager tonight." From an outside perspective Assassin's situation was dire, but one would not know it from her condescending tone. "Did I touch a nerve? Something about me bother you? Or are you just that desperate to protect your beloved little Master?" Assassin didn't have much in her favor when in a direct confrontation, but she always had her ability to get under the skin of her opponent, no matter who they were.
"Hardly." Saber replied, though it was not usually his custom to entertain such behavior. "I simply consider this a waste of time and would like to be finished as quickly as possible."
Their battle had carried the duo through the already disheveled and disordered space of the boutique, Assassin was happy to throw whatever her hands touched into the path of Lord Wilmore as he pursued her. Boxes and fixtures tumbled into Saber's path, and loose garments rained down to block his view at every step. "Oh, so you don't care for him? Come now really, everyone has someone they care for." The perverse Servant had continued to dodge her attacker's strikes with success, her attention fully fixed on the tip of his blade.
Saber had noted this though and, just as Assassin was preparing to parry another swipe of his blade with her fan, he struck out with a fierce kick that managed to go completely under her notice. The powerful strike connected fully with Assassin's stomach and the strength of it sent her flying through the thin wall that partitioned off the storefront from its backroom area, boxes of merchandise exploding as she sailed through them.
"I must admit I don't quite know what you hope to accomplish with your inane prattling, but I assure you it won't work on me." Saber's tone was almost emotionless as he stepped through the door that acted as the proper entrance to the backroom. He had already grown bored of this opponent and her particular behavior. He was desirous of an end to what he considered at this point to be a rather dull battle.
"Bullshit." Assassin spat from her slumped position in and amongst the crumpled clothing. "Everyone has a weakness. And that weakness is always someone else." She flicked her fan, its shape shifting to that of the small domino mask. "Let's see who yours is."
There was a momentary flash of light as Assassin placed the mask on her face and once more activated her Noble Phantasm. Saber, who had winced back from the luminous burst, took a moment to blink the room back into view as his eyes readjusted to the gloomy darkness of the empty storeroom.
The room was still occupied by two, but instead of perceiving his opponent pitifully crumpled on the floor, the other individual whom Saber saw standing across from him was not the vile personage of Assassin. A young woman, no older than twenty, her hair, despite being braided, was long enough to nearly brush the floor, its auburn color changing to a rich azure as it came closer to the ends. Her clothing, from the multilayered robes she wore, one layer white, another the deep purple of royalty, that opened at the bottom to reveal the twisting ornate sandals that enclosed her petite feet, to the tiara and veil atop her head all spoke to belonging to royalty from some now long gone line of Grecian nobility.
"My Master." The young lady addressed Saber with such a formal title, but the emotion, the pure love in her gentle yet authoritative voice implied her true feelings for him. "Do you not think this is enough? Why pursue this end? Why do you fight so needlessly on behalf of someone else?" The young woman inched forward, coming ever so slightly closer to Saber. By all means her body language was that of someone who just longed to be close to the person they loved, and yet there was still the sense of, whoever they were, closing the distance with some other intention.
"I am sorry, Haydee," Saber's tone was the most genuine it had been since the Grail War had started. Even with Ali, but especially around the other Masters and Servants, he was always so guarded, so muted. Yet here, for what was by all accounts an illusion, he couldn't help but let emotion enter his voice, even if only for a second. His hand, and by extension his sword, struck out swiftly as he continued, "But as I am now, as I have been summoned. You do not exist for me. I have not yet reached the time I truly came to know you, to love you. So for this me, you are only a vague and untouchable, yet lovely dream."
The woman he had called Haydee stood in stunned silence as a thick red line of blood ran down in a single serene stream from where Saber had driven his blade through her throat. He allowed the blade to stay within the wound for a few seconds, the act of withdrawing it almost more painful for him than delivering the blow.
He did eventually withdraw his hand though, and as he pulled the blade from the image of the woman he would love, the woman who would be the one to give him a second chance at life, she crumpled and collapsed to the floor.
Saber had all the unnatural speed of a Servant though, and he caught the body in his arms, the many layers of fabric from her lavish and numerous robes falling in torrents down his outstretched arms as he dropped to one knee in order that she might not touch the ground.
Though she was dying, though she had lost the battle, Assassin, still wrapped in the illusion of Haydee, raised a delicate hand to tenderly touch her opponent's cheek. She moved her mouth wordlessly, her voice no longer able to reach her lips due to the fatal wound.
"Yes." Saber replied to the silent words as he cradled the delicate body in his arms. "I suppose you were right. In any other circumstance, at any other time, you would have killed me. But," He pressed the other Servant close, it becoming too difficult to look on the dying visage of someone he would eventually come to love so dearly. "This is what you like, right? This is the sort of suffering you truly wished to cause."
Assassin smiled inwardly as her form began to dissipate. Even if she had been forced to die in order to do it, she had managed to break that insufferably unflappable man.