Kapitel 9: Assassin 4. Orlov
12:20
The awakening was extremely disgusting.
My whole body was aching, but first of all, my head. Without a drop of alcohol it was cracking, as if a pterodactyl was going to hatch out of my skull. The yesterday concussion of brain reminded of itself.
"Pfeeeeh… pheeeeh…"
I couldn't even speak distinctly.
And suddenly… a hand with a glass of water emerged to my eyesight!
I moved instinctively, almost falling out of bed, but managed to wrap into the sheet luckily. After getting to senses I recognized… Assassin!
Crap, the previous night got me! I didn't even recognize my Servant.
Oh, by the way.
"There's a trans…parent packet… in the bag…"
After nodding Diego went to the wardrobe, dived inside, took the packet with medicine and gave it to me. I took some tablets, threw them into the mouth and made the whole glass and asked for more.
I dozed for half an hour more, then gathered my whole willpower and forced myself to get up.
Memories of the yesterday night started emerging in my head.
After the battle with Caster we all were battered down. Even mountain-looking Saber was limping (watch where you jumping, dude), and we, people, were lying on the undamaged parts of the road, trying to catch our breath.
Much later it would occur to me that my shot was the best thing I could do. I broke Caster's concentration and made him fear that I had more of such gems. Technically, he could easily block them, but at that time all the others would attack him.
And if I hadn't… Brrr, don't even wonna know what he was going to unleash. If these were only archers [1].
Damage to that part of the city was terrible. The park near the bridge seemed to have been shot with Katyushas, asphalt at the junction was holed, while the layer on the bridge itself was melt on the length of about 50 meters.
We had to call the Overseer. Oh, how emphatically she was breathing in the phone. For a second it seemed to me that the seemingly calm priestess would erupt with such a monologue, that my tirade would sound like an infant's babble. But nothing doing. The Overseer's job was not only to watch over the rules of the war, but also the Most Important Rule: common public must not know about magic.
Of course, nobody forced her to put a new layer of asphalt, but to scheme a plausible cover was a work for a girl.
I was too weak after losing so much magic energy and doddered to the hotel, hearing only something about Karen's calling for a petrol truck. Shirou, as the local magus-in-charge representative, was forced to stay.
After checking my state I turned to Alatriste.
"How do you feel?"
"Good enough, but unless your magic energy returns to norm I will be rather weak."
"Yeah-yeah, I remember, not to put your head right into the fire. Sorry. But let us be optimists! We already know a Servant. Even two!" I forced myself to smile.
"Only one. I didn't recognize Saber."
"But didn't…"
"A Servant can be recognized only by his Noble Phantasm, or when he talks himself out. Saber was not a talkative one and didn't use his Phantasm. Though, he was about to."
"And you…"
"Me too. Master, you know, I am impressed. I couldn't even imagine that you've got such a trump card."
"Huh, yeah… Used one, one more left, and then the movie would be over."
"Pity."
Alright, to lie or not to lie as not a question now. There is a lot of work to do. For example, to eat. What time is it? Holy crap! It's high lunch!
As I started to dress, some problems emerged. First, I had to clean myself from blood on my stomach. The wound on it was successfully healed but some stains remained. And yeasteray T-short… Yep, not a thing you would like to show to police. Would have to get rid of it and without unwanted attention.
And what is it with my head? You… YOU SON OF A FREAK!!! You've burnt my great metalhead-like long hair! Not completely even after being cut the should look cool, but still…
But now I should set things in a proper order, and eating was first.
Where to go, to get it quick and tasty, but not into the lair of the creepy clown? Sushi!
Mmm…Just as expected, great. No chances for the stuff served in our "Japanese cuisine" places. During the visit I even wanted to repeat the Jean Reno's feat from "Wasabi" and eat the stuff with the finger, but decided not to risk with my health without reason. What is permissible for Jean Reno is not permissible for a mere me.
Suddenly, a thing occured to me.
"Assassin, do Servants eat at all?" – I silently asked the air.
The hirer had written that it was not necessary, but sometimes it is hard to believe in things that contradict your every-day experience.
"Technically, as you say, no. We do not need it on a daily basis, but we feel the taste and even can replenish a small bit of our energy. Just a bit."
"Then maybe you would like some?" I pointed back to the café.
Silence was the answer. As long as he was in his ghost form it was difficult to understand what he felt.
"N-no… Thanks."
Strange reaction. Maybe he feels shy for his, so to say, not quite a shine view he will have to materialize into? Yep, even for a newbie cosplayer it looks not quite good. Maybe, I've got to by something decent and modern? It doesn't seem necessary, but it would be more convenient to have a materialized Servant…
Wait. It occurred to me only then, that, in fact, I dealt with quite a normal, so to say, person. Alright, not that normal, but still, a person! The last few days were not best for such kind of thoughts, but now, a bit later…
After a quick glancing around I went to some shady backstreet.
"Materialize and wait here!"
I ran to a neighboring shop, bought an ice cream for each and returned.
"Here, take yours. Eat it while I'm at the hairdresser's. I'll check the state when I'm back!"
And turned to the designated place, leaving dumbfounded Alatriste with his portion already melting on that hellish summer sun.
The necessity of cutting my pride was an unpleasant one, but it was better than walking with burnt hair.
While sitting I overheard the news. Hm, Karen disguised everything as a gasoline truck explosion, not bad. And strange murders continue. First I thought that someone was feeding their Servant, but the shown wounds on the neck could be only the byte-marks of a vampire.
A vampire? Here, in Fuyuki? Tries to feast under the cover of the war? Where does Miss Tohsaka look? Or now rather Emiya Shirou, they are in the same game anyway.
As I returned to the back street I found Alatriste without ice cream.
"How was it?"
"Tasty", he answered simply.
The rest of the day was dedicated to pills and sleep.
I woke up at 6 p.m. and unwillingly moved to the near hotbed of fastfood. The second sleep made my mind a bit foggy, so I had to turn on Primo Victoria, Sabaton. This track was my wake up signal and it could give me some energy at any time.
Eating didn't take too much time, so there was time till deep night. Unaware what else to do, I went to the shopping mall, partially killing time, partially looking for souvenirs.
After finding some things I could buy for Bruce, I went back to the hotel where we started preparing for the patrol. Just in case I changed strings, put bolts in the quiver. Hid everything with magic. Alright, now we can go.
On the way out appeared the girl I'd met on the first day. I wish we could talk more, but work is work. Oh, it seems, there is nothing to search here.
As we went outside, only some people were strolling around.
Hmm, where to go now? Here? Or to have a walk to Miyama? I hadn't been there yet.
We took the last bus to the other half of the city with the plan to make a circle around the bridge and went to the north to turn left some blocks later.
Everything was quiet. Wand was blowing, bringing the salty air from the sea. Some noises were coming from houses. Old Soviet rock was playing from the right earpiece, while left was trying to catch fishy sounds.
The only problem was in the hilly landscape. Though my organism seemed to recover more or less but the walk influenced me more than I expected.
There was no talk to Assassin. Though I had some themes to discuss for some reason I didn't want to raise them.
"Master, may I ask a personal question?" he asked suddenly, as we turned to the peep part of Miyama.
"It depends on how personal it is", I tried to specify carefully.
"Khm… Tell me, why do you need the Holy Grail?"
I stopped unwillingly, not knowing what to answer.
Personally I didn't care for the Grail at all. Yes, I had contract and all the stuff, but that was all. I could leave the war alive and keep my prepayment, rather big one, and gladly go for a vacation. But that's not a thing you can tell to a person you've called to join in the war for that freaking Grail, that you don't care for it.
"Well, first of all, I am interested in revenge to a man who has joined the war. I haven't really thought about the Grail. Don't like planning forward, all plans go to hell when you face the reality."
"Sounds… plausible", he snorted in agreement but, seeing his face, one could say that he wasn't convinced. "But the true reason of my question was whether you were going to use the Grail for… misdeeds?"
"Kinda, conquer or destroy the world, gain absolute power or something like that? No, have never been interested in that kind of stuff".
"That's nice but…"
Suddenly a short and loud sound erupted from somewhere. What the hell, gunshots? Yakuza decided have some fun?
"Let's check. Carefully. Be ready for all."
We carefully went towards the sound.
Another shots were heard until we faced a piece of greenery, rather typical place, too small to be a park but still rather noticeable, standing on the triangle of Y-shaped crossroad.
And there…
Right in the middle of the greenery a man was standing. He could be characterized by one word^ cowboy. Specific jeans, shirt, hat. Only black coat was a bit out of style. There was a level-action gun in his hands.
A bit to the side there was a girl in black dress which fit her long black hair.
The cowboy's enemy was a guy of about my age in strange armor which from that distance gave a look of some modified lorica segmentata. But the most interesting piece of his equipment was his spear. Long, with silver glance, looking as if covered with small scales. There was an "apple" for balance. The tip was long and crescent-like.
As far as I could say, the cowboy (The only class I could put him to was Archer) tried to shot down Lancer but failed, and now Lancer was going in for the kill.
By that time shooting faded. If I could interpret cowboy's movements correctly, he was reloading his gun while the warrior with a spear was rushing forward ready to stab his enemy in chest.
Archer stopped reloading and started shooting with bullets he had but Lancer avoided first, blocked the second and easily catched the third in his shoulder which didn't even stop him for a moment.
A swing…
Instead of stepping away or back the cowboy moved his hand somewhere behind his back, leaned back, as if falling, stretched his hand, revealing something…
BOOOOM!!!
It thundered, as if an artillery shell exploded. But there was not any sign of explosion.
Cowboy stood in the greenery. His opponent stood nearby. Nothing seemed to have happen. But after adjusting sight I could see the difference.
Lancer had no head. It was the one that exploded, like a overmature water-melon after being hit by a sledgehammer. Though, even after that pieces would be bigger. Rather, his head disappeared and somebody sprayed red paint from his neck.
For some time headless body stood still, then fell on the back, spraying blood over the grass, and started turning into the ashes, taken away with the wind.
"Master, look!" Assassin pointed towards a figure to a side.
I squinted, as it went under alight and…
"Hold right there!" I cried crazily.
As if having forgotten, that there were more people, I ran to the figure.
Orlov! Finally!
The magus stopped and turned to me. His cloudy eyes were expressionless.
It was the same person I'd killed years ago. Though, he looked a bit… worn out. Ghoul-like skin, empty eyes… Though, here is a glimpse of recognizing.
"Sergey…"
"Hello there. Haven't seen for ages. Don't ask how do you do, I see that shitty. Lost a Servant?"
"And you look rather well" he answered in an empty voice. "Except for a hand… Now, it looks surprisingly okay."
"With your praiers".
"Khem-khem, don't we disturb you?"
Behind us were the cowboy and the black-haired girl. The guy was standing with his rifle down but ready to rise every second. The girl was a bit behind, there were no threat coming from her, but it didn't mean that she were not as ready as her Servant.
"Not a bit", I needled back. "Though I'd prefer you step back. We are in a middle of a scene."
"A scene. Quite an accurate word you've found."
"Shut up, you! A came here right to kill you back, so be so kind, don't rise again!"
I took my daggers and prepared to swing that bastard when…
It became extremely dark around me, as if all the light in the world suddenly faded away. I jumped back instinctively but it gave nothing. Some noises could be heard, it seemed that Assassin was trying to protect me, but instead bumped into me almost dropping me to the ground.
The darkness went away as suddenly as it came. After an energetic flash from behind colors returned making me blink for some seconds before turning to the remaining couple.
The dark-haired girl turned out to be not just pretty. Her shapely features would rather fit to a statue of a Renaissance master modelled by a noble Italian lady. Her skin color was as white as that material which was emphasized by almost waist-long straight jet-black hair. Her small wrists were hidden in a dress which, unlike the one of that Einzbern girl was more modern. 70-s or 80-s style dress, if I remember movies from that time correctly. The only truly strange thing were strange eyes…
"Was that your friend?" she asked suddenly with a ringing voice.
"To some extent. We had a… quarrel."
"Then I wish you could find a way to forget the reason you had it and leave. This… creature is not an opponent you can fight with."
A creature? Quite a word for him. But why a woman would use it?
"My luck was that I got such a brilliant Servant."
Yeah, just as I had forgotten.
The cowboy looked… tidy. In fact, I was not a great fan of westerns, even in childhood when all the kids around were running around with toy bows. Only "A Man from the Boulevard des Capucines"[1] left me an unpleasant image of those guys: a bit wild, careless and worn out. Here – manly, like Daniel Craig from that some guys against aliens series, clean, with ironed shirt, perfectly looking coat and trousers, not even jeans. His hair was combed to the right, moustache and a small point of beard right under the lip gave him a vibe of intelligentsia rather appropriate for a young senator rather than a wild westerner.
"So, if everything is settled we…"
"It is pain for me to inform you", Archer (If he really were one I'd choose a better name for his class or give him a sub-class for a firearms) overpolitely, though, mockingly, stopped me. "As a Servant's Phantasm is uncovered, he can only fight to keep his identity hidden from the others."
Phantasm?
I didn't understand what he meant. Had to recover what had happened a minute ago. Gunshots, a duel of Servants. The cowboy is out of ammo, he tries to reload but has no time. Lancer jumps and…
A shot. A shot from a double-barreled gun.
I casted a quick glance to Assassin and he nodded.
No doubt. In the history of the Wild West there was only one wide-known man who made himself famous with a double-barreled gun.
That was freaking bad.
Doc Holliday was only ten meters away. He was standing carefree, his hand with the rifle was hanging down but it didn't mean that he couldn't raise it in a moment. Cap could easily reach him in a second or two, but he was sure to catch a couple of bullets. Plus Archer's Phantasm. A shotgun is not a spell, it shouldn't require too much energy. Plus his Master. I saw no ways to take her out of the game quick.
My thought were interrupted with the howl of police sirens.
"Local enforcers, ma'am." Doc played other kind of captain, an obviosity one. "I suppose, we'd better go away unless we want to draw some unnecessary attention."
There were no words against. A war is a war, but conspiracy always prevails.
We went together. I tried to behave gallantly but all my efforts were ignored. That's how we reached the riverside.
"So what, misters?" once again started Archer. I noticed that his Master was not a talkative one. "What ideas you have on settling our business?"
He was not going to let us go. It was easy to understand. A Servant's identity is a great secret. Knowing it one would know the Phantasm (and we saw it). There was only one way out – to fight.
The situation got rather interesting.
Archer is a shooting class. Technically, it should work from afar. But Doc Holliday had his level-action rifle that allowed him to shoot freely as long as he had ammo in it. The gun butt seemed to be heavy enough to use it in close quarters. A bit. But the most important was the Phantasm. Contrary to logics, he had a short-ranged Phantasm, not a long-ranged one. A picture of Lancer's head being sprayed away appeared in my head. Brrr…
His Master was enigma, whose powers I hadn't seen.
Assassins prefer backstabbing, bit Captain was rather good in battle on his terms. His high agility would give him an advantage, though I had no a slightest idea of whether a Servant's bullets should be faster than a mere man's bullet.
And me.
Status quo?
"And if we answer with the same?" suddenly asked Assassin.
All gazes turned to him.
"If I tell my identity, will you let us go?"
"Ehmm Cap, you sure?"
"Would you prefer fighting on their terms?"
Yep, a question of all questions. Do I have a chance? In theory. If Assassin evades the shots, if Archer shoots in him, not in me, if he doesn't use his Phantasm first, if I get to the girl or, at least, Assassin to him…
Ifs. To many Ifs. It was I fight where initiative should be captured immediately and for all.
"… Come on…"
"Diego Alatriste-i-Tenorio, class Assassin." Diego introduced himself taking his hat of.
To my surprise, Archer did the same.
"John Henry Holliday, class Archer."
A pause appeared as no one knew what to do next.
"And what is your name, milady?" I turned to the girl.
She give a start of surprise as if she had just noticed my presence, paused for a couple of seconds and answered:
"K-Katrine de l'Ange…"
"Beautiful name! And I am Sergey Sheremetyev. For short just Serge or Sher…"
She looked at me as if I had just invited her to a swing party, showing that our presence was no longer pleasant.
In such manner we departed.
"Hey, Master of Assassin, be careful, we won't have mercy on you next time!" yelled Archer rollicking.
"Yeah, we too." I mumbled.
[1] – Unleash the archers – a band from Canada.
[2] - "A Man from the Boulevard des Capucines" – Soviet western-comedy about a film cinematographer who happens to settle in a parody Wild West settlement and start a film theater there.
AUTORENGEDANKEN 
Paul_deVolpe
Paul_deVolpe Sorry for waiting, got too fascinated with what had happened in Moscow last Saturday.
And another chapter is out. I'll make character sheets soon.
Wöchentlicher Energiestatus
-- Power-
Rangliste 
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Stein