"What a wondrous sight!" exclaimed Caster. "Taking the best among these Grimm and putting them into a single combined creature of evolving perfection!"

No one, not even his own Master who made them, shared in that sentiment. Had Tyrian been here, he might have been the one and only companion to have that mutual feeling with Caster. Only Tyrian understood him but Salem was special; she desired death but could not die. An obstacle and challenge that Caster would gladly rise up and meet.

But it had to be by his own terms. That Companion Caster, Curious Cat, through chevalier Sanson, had provided Caster information that a prototype of an immortal killer was available. Such a new tool would no doubt derail his Master's plans. If she could die sooner, she would take that route and be done with it. That couldn't happen. Not before Salem herself wreaked havoc in that pursuit. Even then, Caster refused to use it. Should his Master perish, it will be by his own hand.

But I wish not for her to die yet. For her to die would mean any new method of killing could never be tested. No new way for torment that he would enact. Salem still felt all that pain but all those years in fruitless search for the end had maddened her mind. Her longing for death and his desire to inflict it was mutual in this purpose.

If death had come, then only she would find relief. It wouldn't be fair for Caster to stay behind, unsatisfied, while she would go on, fulfilled. It could not happen. Caster won't let it happen, not without replacing her.

Salem's new Grimm emerged from the large Grimm lake. Its size was too big for it to come out of a mere pool. Its base was that of the Goliath, elephant-like Grimm. It was larger than usual and had spikier bone plating. What made these Goliaths threatening was the rider on its back. Derived from the Hound, yet another work of art by his Master, a humanoid rider was atop of it. The Imps that formed a coat-like body for the rider of the Nuckelavee Grimm.

These riders gave out a ghastly scream, tortured by the pain of being made part Grimm as their souls are consumed slowly so as to not deplete these aura reserves. More rose from these lakes until they formed a single unit, the latest addition to the heavy cavalry of the Grimm.

Behind Caster, Berserker of all characters had been painted with the most disdain. Caster had been certain that it would appreciate these creatures more.

"Unnatural," Berserker said. "Pained."

Caster rolled his oily eyes. Berserker must be envious that it had been surpassed. It couldn't stand of being supplanted as being the perfected form of Grimm. That had to be the case. Caster couldn't see any other explanation. Berserker of all characters should understand that the sight before them was the greatest piece of art.

The ground quaked from their collective stomps. The Grimm were in control and their unfortunate riders could not scream any more than what had been allowed for them. Caster moved about as he inspected each one; some had come from Menagerie. He stopped in front of one of them.

He had been given partial control of these Grimm. As such, when he had commanded the one Grimm in front of him to reveal the face of its rider, that Grimm obeyed and revealed to Caster the form of Menagerie's chieftain, Ghira Belladonna. It was a shame that he couldn't respond and could only scream if he had been allowed to; he wasn't.

The blackness of Grimm covered Ghira's hopeless form once more. They were still alive in there. For as long as their aura reserves were still present, these new soldiers of theirs will continue to live. These Grimm will have that instinctive need to survive even for newborns, a product of their riders. Yet, they are still subject to his Master's will.

"Remnant will tremble at your call!" Caster declared. Then, he turned to his Master and asked with as much humility as a humbled man could show, "what shall we call these beautiful creatures? Such greatness deserves to have a fitting name, Master!"

"I have taken that into consideration, Caster," Salem replied. "And I have considered the name Repha'im. I believe it is something that you might be familiar with?"

Caster shook his head. He will accept his flaws and ignorance. "I'm afraid that I do not. But I shall admit that it is indeed a fitting name for these giant ones whose stature are greater than even of the Goliaths."

"No matter." Salem allowed it. "Not everyone is perfect, I suppose. What matters is that we have a name to call them."

Salem had left the lakes to resume its production until the last of their new additions have been turned into these Repha'im. Once they had finished, they all lined up in single-file, stretching not too far but certainly enough to instill a terror on even the hardiest of armies.

The greatest part of this was that they could always get more.

"Where shall we sow next, Master?" Caster asked, unable to hold back his eagerness. "Name it and I shall personally go there myself!" If his Master was generous, perhaps he would have a chance to see what they could do firsthand. A suggestion had popped in his head. "How about Vacuo? That desert place is filled with hardier folk!" Already, he was thinking if the people gathered could influence these new Grimm.

Salem gave it some thought. But she saddened Caster when she shook her head. "Vacuo would be the logical choice. We also have need for the Relic of Destruction along with the Maiden." Her eyes drifted towards Emerald, then Cinder. "But we have unfinished business in Vale. The Relic of Choice is something that Ozma has kept more hidden than the other Relics it seems. There is something about it that must be important to us. Am I clear?"

Cinder knew who that last part was meant for. "Yes, ma'am. I will make the preparations to leave."

"No." Salem shook her head. "I will accompany you this time, dear Cinder."

"Mistress?"

"I wish to see what these Repha'im could do for myself. Caster, prepare yourself."

Caster's smile widened as his face allowed. "Yes, my Master!"

He went off with dancing feet. His Master was going to accompany him! She would seize this opportunity to rule over and lead herself. Against the very beings that gifted her with immortality, there could be no greater triumph for him.

There in Vale, they would face off against other Servants and Caster will not only have the thrill of the kill, but show off the superiority of his Master and make certain of the Grimm's place as above this world's humanity.

He was walking down the hallways and slowed down as he neared his designated room and workshop. Truthfully, there was hardly anything worth much in Caster's room. It was only filled with artworks of fine qualities, more akin to a noble than a serial killer; it wasn't even those strange artworks.

But that didn't mean that Caster wouldn't treat trespassers the same. It was shame that that Emerald character was obedient to Cinder. Mercury would have been just fine but Caster wasn't about to take a groom to his room.

The production may have slowed but the sight of these new Grimm learning to march at the command of his Master was still a pleasant sight. She was crude in her command, having been more accustomed of moving singular persons than entire armies. Caster will admit that his Master was better at commanding smaller circles of trusted individuals but leave the command of armies towards generals. It is for such reasons that she had her own circle.

These Repha'im couldn't cover an entire continent but their current numbers give off a façade of one. Armies often block themselves into groups when battling in the open but such battles are rare. One would see sieges where attackers would overcome the barriers of the defenders. The four kingdoms of Remnant against these Grimm are, in essence, a prolonged siege.

There was a flaw in sieges: attacking armies, when sufficient, could surround them and outlast them as they wished. Grimm were inexhaustible with the only weakness in them as an army was that Salem couldn't control each of them as any other general would. But she could always command them when she got close to them.

"Which begs the question." Caster felt a presence coming from behind. It was difficult for it to hide its presence; it wasn't an Assassin after all. "Why do you disobey her, Berserker?"

Berserker growled in deep tones. "Unnatural."

Caster refused to believe it. "Are you certain? Or perhaps you are merely threatened? You, who are the Grimm's predecessor and from whom the Grimm are derived from, draw the line at a being so gracious and beautiful?"

"Unnatural." Berserker insisted. "Corrupted."

"In a rare display of camaraderie." Cat appeared on the other side. It had been sudden that Berserker jumped. But Caster had felt them coming as well. Berserker could focus on one thing only ignore everything else. The two Servants still had that animosity to them. "I find myself agreeing with Jabby over here."

"Oh?" Caster's interest rose. He leaned closer.

Cat didn't appear bothered. "I will not deny that my maker had a hand in making your Master immortal, Caster. However, the Grimm influence inside of her was not that given to her by Jabby's maker. Could be because Jabby and I are… well, us. But the Grimm influence on Salem was something that I daresay belongs to her and her alone."

"And you would be correct," Caster admitted. "Master herself had told me of her own history. When she had first summoned me, in her grief and desire for it to end, she dove into those pools and came out as you see her now."

"Longer," Berserker added. "Resistance."

"This is a strange day, indeed." Cat shook their head. "The Grimm influence is getting stronger yet nowhere near capable of destroying her. She might as well be the closest approximation of a Grimm mimicking a human."

"I know." Caster grinned. "Isn't it beautiful?"

"You and I may be of the same class, Caster. But we have very different taste on what counts as beautiful."

"Hideous." Berserker huffed.

The two Servants couldn't stand to be that near to one another for long and parted. They were still within the same corridor, only at opposite ends as their voices could reach. Berserker and Cat growled at one another as they did so with the latter having Sanson's hairs stand fittingly for the feline possessor.

Caster rolled his eyes. Truly, only Tyrian Callows could appreciate this despite his more barbaric tendencies. Tyrian was but a commoner in Caster's eyes. A commoner with fine tastes but a commoner still. At least, Tyrian would have given Caster better company than these two. Not even Cat shared in that interest. His Master cared only for her own death. Caster sighed. There really are too few people with whom he could share in these moments. But such is to be expected; not everyone sees it the way he does.

"There is also the concern on her own mind," Cat said. "I haven't seen anyone so broken yet so headstrong. Not even Jaune was like this—oh, sorry, Rider."

Caster's expression darkened at the mention of Rider. "You had mentioned his name in passing. This Rider. What is he like?" He was still a Servant and knowledge is indeed power.

"Oh you wouldn't believe him," Cat replied. There was a hint of admiration in there. "He was so close to breaking naturally that I just found it quite delectable. But he is headstrong, covers many bases by now and I'm sure he could do a lot of good now."

"Quite the respect you have for him," Caster commented. "Or perhaps, it is simply your obsession."

"You know me too well, Caster." Cat had a forced expression. They didn't want to reveal their true feelings. There was a twisted interest there. Caster knew a thing or two about twisted interests. Considering Cat's current physical form, Caster could guess what that interest would be.

Caster chose his words carefully. "Is that so? There is a first for everything." He waited for Cat's eyes to narrow in suspicion. "Perhaps this would be the first groom I will take with me."

It had the intended effect. Caster noticed the jolting of Caster's movements. Those hands were halfway turned into claws with one of them slightly raised to draw the sword on Sanson's back. What had surprised Caster was that Berserker acted a little as well. Whether that was because of Caster or Cat was up in the air.

Tentacles formed, ready to restrain both Servants if needed. Only Berserker would prove to be a problem. Not only did it have the reputation and class of a direct combatant, Berserker had been in the castle for long enough. Cat wasn't and still hasn't fully grasped the layout of Evernight.

The three Servants stood there in place, neither one moving an inch. Cat had their own interests and was working to serve it. Berserker was subservient to its Master who, in turn, was subservient to Caster's own. But that confrontation was going to come sooner or later if their side had their way. Not now. Not yet, anyway.

"I jest, dear Cat." Caster had the tentacles leave this plane. "I have no interest in grooms. There is a greater beauty in the ruination of the fairer sex." The men, to Caster's ears, were generally more defiant. He prefers the hopeless desperation.

Cat may have loosened their tension but those eyes never stopped accusing Caster. Berserker subsequently backed down. Perhaps it was more on Cat than it did with him.

Caster continued on his walk and resumed his preparations. He had little to bring with him save for a few choice books that had been gathered during his time here in Remnant. It was difficult to find them since fairy tales, stories meant for children, were the most popular ones here in Remnant. Great pieces of literature were hard to come by here. But he couldn't deny the impact that these tales had.

Grimm in those stories were mere generic monsters, if they appeared at all. A product of the ignorant civilian that knew nothing of the true terrors of Grimm. Those that caught a glimpse of true terror were those who were unfortunate enough, in Caster's mind, to have survived. The condolence there was that these people could spread the terror of the Grimm to others.

Thoughts of Repha'im filled his mind once again. The terror that they could inspire sent thrilling chills down his spine. Just what kind of terror would he savor once they gathered a rebuilding Vale? Would Vale lose all hope and despair? Or would they stand in defiance, too proud of having survived the first attack. Perhaps they possess a hubris of having Servants of their own.

Attention then drifted to the spellbook. Not all of its contents were released to create the Repha'im. Sasaki Kojirou was still there, still resisting. By now, Kojirou's Spirit Origin should be severely damaged. Even if he could break free, he wouldn't last for long. Yet, despite that, he kept going. Caster could still see the healing cuts that the fleshier parts of the book had. Kojirou was still fighting that corrupting influence. It reminded Caster of why he chose brides over grooms.

The book was in his Master's hands at the moment. But he would take hold of it soon enough. There were more souls to be fed, after all. He looked in the mirror. The face of Bluebeard, which bore similarities to Gilles de Rais, stared back at him. Caster knew nothing of this Jeanne d'Arc, nothing more than what the Grail had given him anyway.

"Jeanne d'Arc," Caster whispered to his reflection. "Jaune Arc." His thoughts lingered for a while. The Holy Maiden and the Rusted Knight. Once more, Caster focused on the reflection, on the parts of it that had to have come from Gilles de Rais.

He chuckled darkly to himself. Perhaps Caster will face off with Rider during this Grail War. When it comes, Caster will simply fight him as he would any other Servant. But if this Rider was as similar to Jeanne d'Arc as Caster was to Gilles de Rais? Well, perhaps there is something to be had there.

But no. It couldn't be possible. Gilles de Rais had fallen into his madness when Jeanne had been burnt. Depending on who you ask, Gilles may have always had been indulging in such things but had kept it hidden from the others. Many accusations of crimes were thrown against the man. Those crimes led to the birth of Caster, Bluebeard.

A twisted mind, never once learning of a sane life. Bluebeard could be akin to these Grimm in some way. As creatures only bent on the sadistic desire of ending all life, Caster could only find pleasure in ripping apart that hope from those who so cling to it. That light is detestable. Caster couldn't see what it is that Gilles saw in that Holy Maiden.

"Perhaps I will see it in you, Rider." Caster's thoughts concluded.

By the time his preparations had finished, he was the first to ready himself by the docking bays. Rather than an unkindness of Nevermore, there was a singular Grimm there, Monstra. The sight of it made Caster think of beautiful seafaring vessels. It was a large, whale-like Grimm that could fly thanks to the Gravity Dust that it had on its body. Using this Grimm always meant that Salem herself would be moving and now wasn't an exception.

Caster stepped inside the Grimm. The other Servants had come sometime later. The Repha'im were marching from below.

/-/

Back in Vacuo's crater, Jeanne had never anticipated nor did she expect that this place would have some kind of significance. Even now as she returned to it, there wasn't anything there. A great catastrophic event had occurred here and from what information Archer and Watts had passed on to her, it would seem that that event had been a Grail War.

She spent her time looking around the massively large crater. There may have been a time when people were invested in this strange place. No records of shooting stars passing by here during the Great War nor was there any remains of what had caused it. The searing heat that had turned most of the sand into glass still made it a hazard no matter how much had been excavated here.

There was no sign that Jeanne could find that would have led her towards the prototype of Harpe. As it she is right now, she lost her Revelation in favor of Maiden, an aspect for herself as a Remnant knew of her. Her eyes burned the fires of the Maiden as she sought to replicate it in some way; there wasn't. Maiden magic wasn't quite capable of replicating any skill, an ironic limitation for Heroic Spirits but one born out of legends. Maidens were derived from the four seasons and Jeanne wasn't even one of them.

What she can do is create projections of light but that many other Servants could do that. Most of them come in the form of beams launched from their swords.

Right now, she was scraping about the area and scanning the surroundings. Many years had passed since the Great War. If there had been any sign of any sort of hiding spot, it would have long since vanished or lost to the sands. Where was she even supposed to find it here? There were no structures other than those that would lead towards Vacuo's cities. Settlements were rare to find out here, especially around a dessert.

Jeanne walked aimlessly, the sword of Gilles de Rais clinging and clanging each time it met with the metal of her tassets. The view of the distance appeared to Jeanne like an ocean's waves. It must be the heat. She conjured a shade to keep her cool and a few trails of snow kept her temperature low.

She paused as she squinted over the distance. There was a figure there, alone. They weren't moving in any hurry nor were they slowed. At first, Jeanne didn't pay them any mind but she did once she saw a figure that was unmistakably Grimm attacking. The Grimm immediately fell and Jeanne knew then that it had to be another Maiden; that had to be the Summer Maiden.

Fires burst forth from Jeanne's feet as she flew towards that Maiden. Spring Maiden was Raven and Jeanne knew that Cinder was still the Fall Maiden. Jeanne had never met the Winter Maiden and as last she checked, it wasn't Winter Schnee. Vacuo would have the Fall Maiden.

Above the hooded figure were clouds forming. There were storm clouds. It would have been odd for anyone else to see this kind of weather forming this suddenly. Jeanne wasn't anyone else.

"Excuse me," Jeanne called out as she made her landing. It was a soft landing and she made sure to keep her hands up. "You're a Maiden?" Jeanne's eyes were still glowing to serve as proof.

"I am," the Summer Maiden replied. She pulled back her hood, revealing a girl who was used to roughing it out here in Vacuo. She appeared accustomed to travel. "Starr Sanzang, and you?"

"Jeanne d'Arc. I know it sounds crazy and out of nowhere but I am a Fifth Maiden, a Holy Maiden."

Surprisingly, Starr didn't appear surprised. Instead she studied Jeanne. "You a Servant?"

"You know?" Jeanne never told anyone in Vacuo. By the time she had arrived to Vale, the CCT was down so there was no means for communication between the kingdoms. There were the underground channels but those would take time if they would reach their destination at all. "How?"

"You're looking for the prototype, aren't you? One of the previous Maidens had been the Master of the Archer in the last Grail War. Kept herself hidden avoiding both Oz and Salem about her involvement in the Grail War." Starr produced an old and overused note. "Kept a journal, made sure that any receiver of the Summer season would be given this task on top of their own."

"If that's the case," Jeanne said. She introduced herself again. "Vacuo's Companion Lancer."

"Don't know what that is." Starr shook her head.

"Never mind, then." Jeanne's cheeks reddened a little. "You said you know Harpe?"

"Been a while since I last visited the place." Starr motioned her to follow.

The two Maidens flew towards their destination. Jeanne hung on to Gilles' sword. Another individual involved from that Grail War. Jeanne couldn't help but swell up in pride for her comrade. She knew of the crimes that he committed, courtesy of the Grail. To see him not only make a new name for himself, but to be recognized as a hero, uncorrupted by madness, only made Jeanne push herself a little farther.

There was a time when Gilles de Rais would want to stand by her side while she was humble and a little bashful at the gesture. Here in Remnant, it was the inverse. Jeanne wished to live up to that expectation and stand as his equal here. She had no doubts that Gilles wouldn't think much of himself if he knew what he had done.

You will be remembered as a hero, she thought. Even if it is only here, my friend. I'll make sure that your name won't be stained here.

Remnant isn't fully aware of Earth's history. For Gilles de Rais, it was best that Remnant think better of him. A new start for many Heroic Spirits Remnant is. Those who wish to cleanse themselves may wish to be here. Those who have already accomplished glory may want to replicate it. Her eyes turned upward. But none of those would be possible if this world's makers would have their way.

Starr began her descent with Jeanne following suit. Out of all the Maidens, Jeanne herself included, it was as though that Starr had fully integrated her abilities the best. Her sense, or rather control, of the weather came to her as akin to instinct. Few Grimm really approached them and those that did were quickly disposed of as a lightning bolt had appeared out of nowhere and struck them down.

Both Maidens stopped at what appeared to be an old home. It couldn't even give a hint of what the old home had looked like except for what remaining part of the roof was still hanging. It might have been a spacious home, fit for one or two residents while still leaving some space for any visitors. Vines and trees that populated the area sheltered this place. The ground appears untraveled. But after Starr pulled out some of the roots growing on this home, it was more accurate to say that the road had been covered by nature. This used to be a settlement, only to be lost forever with only this home being a sign that someone had settled here.

"To think that this used to be her home," said Starr.

"Who?"

"Alyx," Starr said. "The one who wrote the story? Some say that Alyxx was just a penname and that it had been someone else who wrote the Girl who Fell Through the World." She pulled out that same note again. "The notes said that you Servants will find what you need here."

"How is it that the Servants from the last Grail War did all this?"

Starr only shrugged. "You tell me. You Servants are not of this world for the most part. If there is anyone who could answer that question it would be you guys. There are a few other scraps of notes but those are all torn and my predecessors couldn't hope to decipher those fragments."

Jeanne's fingers drew circles on Gilles' sword. She could take a guess to what one of the reasons that anyone could have taken.

"The next frontier," Jeanne said. "The voyage into open seas. Beyond the horizon."

She gripped the sword.

Starr noticed it and nodded. She put her hood back on. "I don't know what it is that you will find in there but I wish you good luck."

"You're not coming?"

"My job here is done." Starr was already making her preparations to leave. "If you do find it, come pass by Shade Academy sometime or my dojo. I'd, at least, like to know what it is that we're dealing with here."

Starr took her steps and flew away, leaving Jeanne there.

None of the structures looked safe. Weathered by the elements and by time, this place was close to breaking that the slightest touch was too much for it and it fell. Much of it had fallen and the dust rose that Jeanne had to fan out the clouds forming at her face. She coughed a little before she used her Maiden powers to blow them away.

Stepping over fallen rubble and stones, there were a few small creatures that made a home here. Those homes were destroyed now. Jeanne nearly stubbed her toe when she caught a glimpse of a small object from the ground: a doorknob that led down to the basement. Putting aside the heavy weights on them, Jeanne checked her surroundings before taking a step. There were no Grimm nearby and there hadn't been any travelers passing by either.

The basement was dark. Jeanne's fingers lit up the room like a torchlight. She paused. A breeze blew coming from in front of her. There were no other ways for wind to enter here. There was nothing much of note in this place. A few dusty old notes that have been discarded, and now ineligible, drafts littered the floors. The few that were of note stood out.

Jeanne knelt down and picked up a strange looking leaf. A gentle breeze blew again that the papers moved. A few more leaves had appeared in front of Jeanne. She followed the trail of these peculiar leaves and found that it led to a wardrobe, partly opened. Jeanne felt the breeze come from there.

Seeing as there was nowhere else to go, Jeanne opened the wardrobe. It was full of coats and clothing that have gathered dust. Strangely, they still had vibrant colors to them as though they were new. She took a step into the wardrobe. The breeze definitely came from there.

Big wardrobe, she thought. Her hand was fully outstretched and there was still enough room for her to move, despite the number of coats. Where's the end of this thing?

/-/

Immediately after Saber-class Servant, Jason of the Argonauts, had won, a boy revisited a far away place.

"Lewis? You're back?"

"Yes, old friend. I'm surprised you still remember me. I like the new look."

"The form may change and the mind may forget but the heart stays the same and it never forgets. What can I do for you?"

"Well, I am looking for a lovely carpenter."

"You flatter me. And you brought a friend?"

"I… Yes. An innocent friend."

"I know. I've seen it happen. Quite the show up there, if I do say so myself."

"You're not mad?"

"To give free will to the created means to give them the capacity to go against the creator. Whatever decisions that humanity will make will be their own. But that doesn't mean that those two won't act upon that decision as well. Just as the Tree made for them a gate to other worlds because of their actions, so too will they act because of humanity's action. So tell me, Lewis. Or rather, tell me, Caretaker, what is your request?"

"You recall how I and Alyx got here last time? I was thinking that maybe you could do something else since the last one had been closed off."

AN: This bit is more of an announcement. As of the posting of this chapter, I'm currently in the process of transferring from a job in one office to another job in another office of the same institution. If I ever end up getting delayed with future chapters, know that it is because I'm adjusting to the new job and readjusting my current work-life balances. (Hallelujah! Praise be to outlines).

Back to the chapter, until canon says otherwise, I'm inclined to go with Starr, Sun's cousin, as the Summer Maiden. More stuff about the previous Grail War is revealed. Best way I can describe this is that the previous Grail War is the "Fate/Zero" to this "Fate/Stay Night" in terms of chronology, if that makes sense.

A thought came to me that basically went like this: "given the Fate depiction, Gilles was driven mad by his grief over the loss of Jeanne d'Arc. It could be argued that in his grief-driven depravity, he lost sight of the Lord's grace. His noble status and (possibly) reputation were destroyed at his being... maidenless."

I'm not saying Gilles is a Tarnished... I think.