Capítulo 11: La Pucelle (4)
At the heart of the Singularity of Orleans, there was one man who could be considered as the main perpetrator of the events in France. He wasn't the man who came up with the concept of the singularity, but the individual who was 'enabled' to deem fit what he wished upon a Holy Grail.
This man's name was Gilles de Rais, summoned in his Caster variant as the infamous villain recorded in history as Blue Beard. From the stalwart knight and comrade of the Saint Jeanne d'Arc in the Hundred Years war, the betrayal of his people and the burning of his idol drove him mad with grief and denial.
Dabbling in the dark arts of the time, he came into possession of what was known as Prelati's Spell book: A summoning grimoire with a cover of glistening human skin containing what is known as the R'lyeh Text detailing records of a forbidden knowledge relating to an evil god of an ancient era sometime before humanity's origin.
Falling into depravity, his reputation grew notorious.
Ordinarily, a man such as him could never have qualified to become a Heroic Spirit of the Caster-Class, but exceptions were always rampant in the Grail Wars.
In this case, upon his manifestation, and with the power of a Holy Grail, he was granted a wish.
It can be said that all his desires, and ambitions had already been fulfilled with this one wish, and now all that was left was appreciation.
Destroying humanity? He was indifferent.
If it happened, it happened, more so if it was due to his own machinations, but so what?
His Jeanne was all that mattered to him.
Walking deep within the bastille of the castle ramparts in central Orleans, Gilles ruminated over the destruction his Jeanne wished to carry out over France. It was his pleasure and motivation to serve her whims, so utmost effort must be given.
"I feel consumed by inspiration!" Gilles cackled. The robes in which he wore resembled a twisted monstrosity of wilted flower petals with the motif of fleshy purple veins around his collar.
His eyes were bulged; his hair unkempt and disorderly, but the smile over his face could only be described as genuine happiness.
"Ah, Jeanne! Innocent Jeanne! These wretches have come to thwart your desires, but fear not! Your marshal Gilles will make quick work of them!"
A dark light flickered across his features, the smile instantly vanishing as he gnashed his teeth and huffed in rage in his inner most thoughts.
"Chaldea? Chaldea!" He roared, vexed. The arrogance of that injured being that dares suggest that such a paltry force could threaten his Jeanne must be utterly wrong! Moreover, that Demon filth!
"To even propose taking my Holy Grail away from me as a failsafe!" Gilles lost control of his own temper, and veins began to pop over his face. "If it so much as dares insist to harm my Jeanne, it will learn to fear the wrath of Gilles de Rais!"
Bloodshot eyes grew more and more angered at the thought, but as if all were tranquil, Gilles' features suddenly regressed to normal while a field report was communicated to him by a familiar.
"One Servant is contending against four Berserker-Class Servants at once? They're still fighting?"
The news perplexed him greatly, especially when he considered the fact that said Servant had been drawing a bee-line straight for Orleans from the start. The path of destruction was quite evident as well.
Toppled trees, cut towns, corpse-filled fields, this foe was ruthless and stubborn with single-minded determination.
"A Saber?" Gilles furrowed his brows, but soon eased his expression. "The Saber was forced back after two more Berserkers came?"
Gilles had a thoughtful look. No Servant should be able to survive the onslaught of six adversaries. The matter should be settled soon.
"Then the matter of the Masters of Chaldea should come first."
Gilles hurried his pace, moving from the bastille to the central hall leading to the castle reception room where he knew his Jeanne was waiting for him. "Jeanne! Dear Jeanne! Watch and see how your Gilles will handle this for you-"
Was that his Jeanne?
Gilles paused abruptly, making sure that he was seeing things right.
What was she doing?
Ordinarily, she carried an indifferent disposition and dispassionately held all others in contempt for their two-faced human nature, but presently, she appeared as if she was a thief quietly making her way through her own castle.
Every corner she passed, she'd look both ways and make sure that nobody was there before moving onto the next corner and repeating her actions with a demeaning scowl. She was muttering under her breath, and seemed as if she herself was feeling exasperated and annoyed.
It was only for a moment, but she seemed pleased with something, and that warmed Gilles' cold heart.
As long as his Jeanne was happy, then he was satisfied. Her wishes were his command.
Still…
Why was his Jean sneaking around with a vindictive sneer in her own castle? She was even carrying a cauldron and firewood to the dungeon while licking her lips?
D-Did she finally understand the joys of torturing others rather than quick deaths?
Ah! Dear Jeanne! The choice to keep that Master of Chaldea prisoner by your whims wasn't wasted!
Was she looking to boil him alive? Flog him with the wood? Oh, the options were endless!
How proud he was.
He'd leave her alone to let her have her fill of entertainment while he made her preparations for the full invasion of France and their enemies on all sides.
All she'd need to do was lead with him when the time came for battle.
Everything for the sake of his Jeanne!
The forests of France weren't nearly as close to inconvenient to navigate through as those in the Amazon or a jungle, but no one really enjoyed the feeling of prodding through bramble and bush outside of a dirt path. However, Jeanne seemed to be the exception as she remained unperturbed while guiding the members of Chaldea in the lead.
While pushing through some bushes and clearing a path ahead with the pointed end of her war-banner, she suddenly perked up in thought.
"Oh, right. We haven't had proper introductions, have we?" She turned around to face everyone. "I'm Jeanne d'Arc. First, please tell me your names."
Olga's brow twitched at the nonchalant tone, but to everyone else, it was nothing but friendly. Then again, Olga was the one most irritable with numerous twigs and leaves tangled in her hair. Unlike Servants, she couldn't just dematerialize then rematerialize and instantly be clean of the filth clinging to her.
"Understood, I'm Mash Kyrielight, a Demi-Servant." Mash offered with a kind of infectious enthusiasm while encouraging Ritsuka to keep up by waiting on him. "This is Ritsuka, my Master, and that's Mr. Sieg. He's a Caster," she introduced.
Ritsuka tried to smile but only ended up panting instead. The group had been walking for several hours now, and hiking over less-than-ideal terrain. As for Sieg, well, he remained distracted, only snapping out of his thoughts when he grew flustered when Jeanne stared at him.
"Ah, yes, nice to meet you," Sieg couldn't meet Jeanne's eyes, missing the way they furrowed.
"D-Do I know you?" Jeanne scrunched up her features in alarm. "I, I uhm, there's this strange feeling…"
"Maybe. Maybe not, but perhaps it's for the best," Sieg didn't answer with any confidence, and pretty soon his presence was overshadowed when Olga spoke up with a huff.
"I'm Olga, a Master," Olga said curtly. She was a still a tad miffed that this unlikely cooperation was agreed to because of some chef. "These are my Servants, Assassin, and Berserker Spartacus."
"Sasaki," Assassin inclined his head when Jeanne's gaze shifted to him. Spartacus just grinned from ear to ear.
Doing her best to memorize everyone, Jeanne nodded her head lightly, but was honestly still a tad confused. "Masters? So, there are Masters even in this strange Holy Grail War?" Her manifestation had been odd from the beginning.
"No, it has nothing to do with the Holy Grail War," Ritsuka said while scratching the back of his head.
As Ritsuka was the one who said it, Jeanne didn't have any doubts that Ritsuka would gain anything by lying to her, and he seemed the truthful sort.
Jeanne hummed in thought. "Strange," she ended up saying.
"As you may be able to tell, I'm a Servant. My class is Ruler. I understand this, but a majority of information that should be provided upon my summoning is missing. There's also more."
Jeanne shook her head ruefully and continued while pulling a taut face.
"My stats have ranked down. Not only have I lost the anti-Servant Command Spells, I can't even reveal the true names of other Servants. Luckily, I was born in France and if nothing else, I can speak the language…"
"Do you know anything about that other Jeanne d'Arc?" Olga cut in directly. She was in no mood for pleasantries after she was made aware of Shirou's 'passing,' and only wanted to understand what was going on.
"I ugh, I've never met her," Jeanne admitted, feeling pressured by Olga's incredulous stare. "Having just materialized a few hours ago, I'm only doing fairly well so far because of the chef I met who kindly shared his intel with me. He cooks really good food. Oh, and he's also the one who said that reinforcements may be on the way, and then you all came."
Jeanne smiled warmly, almost shy in that the tips of her cheeks reddened. She wanted to ask a favour, but didn't quite know how given that they'd just met.
"I didn't ask about the chef!" Olga was being prejudiced, irked now more than ever as the topic of the chef came back. "Okay look, here's what matters. Does this mean that two of the same Servants have been summoned in the same era? Is that possible and is there a way to exploit it?"
A beeping noise indicated the arrival of a transmission from the Command Room.
"If we could access the Holy Grail's records we could check, but it's not like it would of much help. One thing is for sure. Charles VII is dead, and Orleans has been occupied, symbolizing the collapse of France. In history, France was the first nation to declare human liberty and equality in which many countries followed suit. Delaying this would stagnate history by one-hundred years. Without progress we still be stuck in the middle ages like this." Romani spoke grimly, none of his general silliness to be seen.
Romani's interjection and analysis was expected, but it didn't mean it went for everyone.
"I just heard a voice!" Jeanne narrowed her eyes, alert before relaxing when she noticed everyone's expressions. "I-Is that magecraft? What in the world are you all-"
Another transmission interrupted Jeanne mid-sentence.
"Oh, that's right. I didn't introduce myself. Nice to meet you Saint Jeanne d'Arc. My name is Romani Archaman, but everyone calls me Roman. I do various tasks for the organization known as Chaldea in which Ms. Animusphere is the chairwoman."
At any other time, Olga would have straightened her back in pride of her position, but she'd taken a blow after losing a fellow Master at the vert start of this mission.
"Our objective is the correction of this twisted history," Ritsuka said on Olga's behalf.
Everyone then filled Jeanne in on what had happened to proper Human History on the way to a fort Jeanne explained she was leading everyone towards. They would arrive in just a few more minutes after their long trek, but these last few minutes ended up spent in silence on Jeanne's behalf.
"…I see. To think that the world itself has been incinerated. My worries seem so trivial in comparison," she blushed, looking ashamed. "I'll be the first to say that I'm an incomplete Servant, and even I cannot trust 'myself.'"
The Jeanne d"Arc that occupied Orleans, the flying dragon and wyverns, the mystery surrounding the other Jeanne, it was enough to cast doubt for Jeanne who knew that she was an incomplete manifestation.
Could she risk the fate of humanity itself when she lacked her own confidence?
"W-What if I'm the fake?" She mumbled out.
No one had a definite answer to that, but Sieg certainly had a reaction. His head snapped up so fast in Jeanne's that it was frightening.
"No. No you're not." Sieg said firmly before shying away when Jeanne stared deeply at him. "If anything, there must be something wrong with the other one. No matter how the saint despaired, one thing is for sure. She who offered up her body even in the flames wouldn't have carried this level of resentment and murderous intent."
Jeanne pursed her lips. "T-That may no be the case," she glanced towards her feet, the sound of twigs snapping beneath her echoing as she walked. To say that she hadn't felt any sort of resentment would be a lie. She did feel something when she was burned at the stake, and perhaps this was the origin of her other self: The darkness of her soul she refused to see.
"In any case, it's an impossible feat for modern mages to summon Dragons, and should be difficult for even this era's magecraft." Romani spoke up to change the topic.
Jeanne's discomfort was obvious. She was just thankful for the change. "I also had nothing to do with Dragons or wyverns at all in my life, so it's odd that they would be here."
"Wyverns certainly didn't exist in this era," Mash gave her two cents.
Romani hummed in thought back in Chaldea's Command Room. "That means…if there's anything that could bend rules like this just like in Fuyuki, then…"
"A Holy Grail," Olga quickly surmised what Romani didn't dare suggest lightly.
If it did exist, then it would have to be retrieved.
"When will we reach this fort of yours?" Ritsuka asked. "It would be good to have a place where we can come up with a plan."
Jeanne nodded.
"The make-shift fort is hidden away from my other self's sight within a grove of cedar trees. We're practically already there. See, take a look for yourself."
Just as Jeanne said, the sight of the make-shift fort appeared. High walls were constructed out of toppled timber, and several men in French armour appeared to be patrolling around it. They were armed with swords and spears, and appeared to be veterans of the Hundred Years War.
They seemed able to distinguish Jeanne from her other self and were already waving her over.
"From here on, the objective is already clear," Jeanne spoke up. "First, we'll rest up, make a plan, then head to Orleans to take back the city. To do that, we must exterminate the Jeanne d'Arc who stands in my way, but my chef was adamant that I couldn't do it alone."
Jeanne stopped in place, finally taking the time to persuade everyone to her cause by looking at them each in the eye.
"The lord hasn't shown me the proper path, but I can't turn my back on this. On my people. I would have gone on my own if not for the chef's words stating that allies would be coming, and here I am now. So, uhm, are we allies?"
"You bet," Ritsuka answered in the positive, much to Jeanne's relief as she placed a hand over her chest.
"If Jeanne words are to be believed, then we would indeed be allies," Romani advised Olga who'd kept silent but was now pressured to acquiesce and accept the fact that they agreed to be allies because of food.
"Of course, she's not lying," Sieg expressed displeasure towards Romani's words.
"Right, right. A saint wouldn't lie," Romani backpedaled wryly.
Meanwhile, Olga nursed the migraine she was feeling before trying to get a gauge on everything.
"You mentioned your side's chef quite a lot. Is he really that capable?" She asked.
Jeanne inclined her head right away in approval. "He's the one who ended up helping me when I first manifested, and he's also a dependable Heroic Spirit."
"Your cook's a Heroic Spirit?" Romani mumbled, perplexed. "Do Heroic Spirits of cooking actually exist?"
"That's not what matters Romani," Da Vinci interjected in this moment with a pleasant tone. "That means we have more capable allies on our side."
Ignoring the fact that she hadn't been introduced to Da Vinci yet. Jeanne gave a rather subdued smile. "I'm afraid that our chef isn't in the best condition," she said. "Other than scouting, he can't do much more or risk destabilizing his Spirit Origin and fading away. It's past noon now, so he must still be observing the situation around Orleans and Paris. By the look of the smoke drifting up in the air, someone formidable is probably making a mess of things for my other self already."
Olga, Ritsuka, and Mash all glanced at each other and had no doubts who was being referred to right then and there.
"Ms. Saint! Quickly we need healing for the sick!"
"Ms. Saint, she's back! Open the gates hurry!"
From the moment they arrived near the make-shift fort, numerous voices could be heard. They were people rescued by the chef before Jeanne had even arrived. Still, Jeanne's fame was at its height in this period, and it was clear that she wasn't the Dragon Witch currently occupying the capital.
"If you'll excuse me," Jeanne's smile was strained with grief. The pain of the people of France depressed her.
"No, it's fine. We'll help too in case they need anything," Ritsuka offered while Jeanne stared in gratitude. He quickly followed after Jeanne who moved towards the part of the fort where the injured were kept, followed by everyone else but Olga.
Olga was the only one who hadn't said anything, but the fact that she nodded for Sasaki and Spartacus to help if possible, indicated that she wasn't cold hearted.
Right now, she just wanted some time alone to think.
Who would have thought that this one decision would give her an opportunistic chance encounter?
After finding a secluded place in which she could think for herself, the sound of the leaves rustling just a scant few seconds after startled her immensely. Scrambling into a battle position, she pointed the index and middle finger of her right hand together where a dark sphere of a Gandr took form at the tip of her nails.
The leaves rustled again, and a figure hobbled out. Half-a-leg was missing, but in its place was some sort of twisted sword-looking prosthetic that seemed to do its job to enable the man to walk. Black web-like lines crawled over his tanned skin and covered numerous nasty scars from puncture wounds and lacerations.
One eye was even permanently blinded from a wound cut vertically from forehead to left cheek. His dominant arm was also missing up to the shoulder.
Form-fitting body armour was worn over his top, while a pair of twentieth-century combat trousers and boots covered his leg.
Weary eyes widened for a fraction of a second while taking Olga's form in, but it was Olga who couldn't take the silence first.
"I-Its you!" Olga's memories of the Archer from Fuyuki came to mind instantly.
Archer scoffed at how rude Olga was being. She hadn't even realized she was pointing at him with a Gandr still charged at her finger tips.
"So, you people of Chaldea finally arrived, and it's not 'you.' It's Archer," he carefully pointed her finger away, alerting her to the fact that there was still a Gandr spell on it.
At the very least, she seemed embarrassed at herself when she found out and quickly diffused it.
She shook her head.
"What are you doing here?"
What was he doing here? Well, wasn't that already obvious?
"I'm the chef, and I've been here long before any of you arrived," Archer replied flatly.
"Does this mean that Lev-"
"The bastards hiding here somewhere too," his tone hardened, lone eye narrowing. "He may even be just as injured as I am. My last attack against him might not have been much, but I detonated a core of magic energy at that thing's origin."
Archer nodded to himself, but was still vexed that Lev managed to pull out alive somehow. Suddenly, he remembered something concerning his matters with old self.
"And Saber?" He inquired. "That fool may be an idiot, but he's one who can do what others can't, so he must have been able to help her."
Olga stiffened, mood plummeting again.
She filled Archer in on prior events before he just started laughing.
"What! It's not funny you brute!" Olga was genuinely upset, guilt and regret eating away at her.
"Do you really think he's that easy to kill?" Archer sneered more to himself than at Olga. "I couldn't even kill me, and that's saying something, but assuming the rest of what you said about a Holy Grail is true, we might as well give up on this Singularity now."
Give up? Was this really a future version of Emiya?
"Why are you being so cynical?" Olga stressed, nearly pulling at her hair in indignation. "With your capabilities and now as a Heroic Spirit, we can have an edge even if we're up against Dragons or a darkened saint!"
Archer wasn't the 'Master' Shirou, but he was a future variant of Emiya anyways. This means, he could create dispensable Noble Phantasms for any occasion. Words can't even express how versatile and useful this one ability could be if used properly.
Her thoughts must have been showing on her face, as Archer was returning a firm look back.
"If you can't already tell, I'm not exactly in any condition to fight," Archer stressed while gesturing to his form. "Independent Action can only get me so far, and I don't even have the energy to reform properly. Do you really expect me to be able to heed your request and supply your group with Noble Phantasms on a whim?"
Ah. Olga shut her mouth quickly, but Archer wasn't done.
"I'm not like some Golden King with a vault of all the world's treasures. I make mine, recreate, counterfeit, whatever you want to call it. I must take from my inner world and project it into reality. If my Tracing wasn't so taxing, I would have taken after a Golden King's example and killed that bastard Lev in an endless shower of crystalized legends."
Archer sighed, scratching the back of his head with his remaining arm while watching Olga bite her lips. Her outburst wasn't what he was expecting from her at all.
"You're a hypocrite you know! You say one thing, but do something else!" Olga craned her neck up and glared right at Archer in the face. "If you really think that we should give up, then why did you help make this fort and help out that other Jeanne? So what if they have a Holy Grail? That didn't stop Emiya from going after Saber Alter in Fuyuki, so what's stopping you?!"
A Master- Rin.
Archer thought, but he wouldn't say this. Saber Alter was already saved in the last singularity, so all he had now were his lingering regrets.
"Then let me ask you," he said instead. "Do you have enough energy?"
Olga didn't even think before answering.
"I do," she puffed her cheeks up in pride. "The dark King even calls me a battery fr-"
She blinked ever so slowly as she processed what she'd just said, flushing red as it wasn't something to be proud about.
"F-Forget I said that!" She coughed awkwardly. "W-We also have Chaldea's resources," she finished on a stronger note.
Olga wasn't stupid and could read between the lines. This jerk. H-He'd led her on with everything he said just so that it reached this point where it seemed like she was the one begging him for assistance.
"I suppose I can accept a temporary contract if only because I haven't yet fulfilled my end of a promise," Archer revealed his true colours in Olga's mind at this very moment.
Keep putting up airs you bastard who can't just be honest with himself.
She preferred her Emiya to this one.
Still, this didn't mean that she didn't know an opportunity when she saw one. Hurriedly she went through the Servant-Master ritual and completed it within a few minutes.
"Servant: Archer," Archer intoned as the link between him, Olga, and Chaldea was established. "I answer to your summon."
In a brilliant flash of magical light, the wounds over Archer's form began to mend with the stimulus of new energy. Skin knitted back together, limbs regrew at a visible rate, and suddenly, the Archer from Fuyuki stood imposingly before her.
From stats alone, he was already better than Sasaki and Spartacus.
Temporary as this contract may be, it still let her feel like a competent Master.
"Happy?" Archer said snidely.
"Who says I'm happy!"
She couldn't hide her inner glee.
/-/
By the time Olga returned to find her comrades, she was strutting like a peacock, too proud to boast, but still wanting others to notice her newest achievement. Her mood had noticeably improved after Archer's doubts about Shirou being killed alleviated some of her worries. That, and the fact that she knew that this time she had a capable Servant at her side had her on cloud nine.
"Mr. Chef, is that you?" Jeanne was the first to notice Olga and Archer's arrival. How could she not when she'd spent a good deal of time with Archer already?
The real surprise was that the change he'd gone through was significant. "You're healed," she stated.
"More or less," Archer didn't dwell much on the issue and began walking towards Ritsuka, Mash, and the other Servants, observing them one at a time. They noticed Archer from the moment Jeanne had run over to him.
Olga took this moment to look pleased with herself, yet upon noticing the blank expressions on Ritsuka and Mash's faces, she thought of something.
It was only now that she realized that no one else other than her and Shirou had come in contact with Archer in the last singularity until the end. Even then, Archer's figure was blurred in the light of a magical explosion.
It was no wonder that Ritsuka and Mash couldn't recognize her achievement.
"My new Servant, and he's the chef of this place," Olga said when she approached near enough.
Sasaki and Spartacus gave Archer a nod in welcome, and Archer did the same. However, he drew the line when Spartacus was acting too enthusiastically and distanced himself.
Meanwhile, Ritsuka and Mash couldn't help but stare at Archer.
"I'm Ritsuka, and she's Mash," Ritsuka introduced. The curiosity couldn't be hidden from their features as they openly scrutinized Archer longer and longer.
"I'm just a nameless Archer," Archer said. He didn't care much for formalities. Rather, he was trying to avoid the topic of his name entirely, but Olga wouldn't have it as it meant reducing the weight of her achievement in recruiting him.
"Nameless?" Olga scoffed, unamused. "I didn't take you for a comedian. Isn't that right…Emiya?"
And there it was.
"E-Emiya?"
Archer scowled.
Now that Mash and Ritsuka looked even closer, and with Archer's hair down, the resemblance was almost uncanny aside from the shade of their skin and the colour of their hair.
"Emiya-Senpai becomes a Heroic Spirit?"
Archer twitched at the name as it carried certain connotations behind it for him that he'd rather not associate with any longer.
"Just call me, Archer," he said evenly, switching the topic entirely at the next second. "Rather than concern ourselves with who I am or was, I believe solving this Singularity is the priority, yes?"
Everyone nodded in agreement.
"I say we have enough strength to make a straight path to Orleans," Jeanne suggested frankly.
Their side was now six Servants strong, and each of them were capable enough to rival a small contingency of enemies if need be. However, rather than agree, Archer shook his head.
"We don't have nearly enough strength. Don't let numbers fool you, but the other side's Servants don't nearly matter as a Holy Grail. With the Grail, there's nothing from stopping the enemy from summoning more Servants given enough time."
"Then we strike quick and efficiently," Sasaki proposed.
"Oppressors will be crushed by the weight of my love!" Spartacus eagerly awaited battle.
Archer hummed in thought while everyone else began making suggestions.
Sasaki's suggestion was viable, but difficult at the same time. The enemy would have certainly prepared for any frontal assaults. Moreover, there was another problem in regards to numbers: They were too outgunned.
"Cruel as it might sound, it's a good thing Saber Alter's left. She's better used as a distraction while we act as the sharp sword," Archer surmised after everyone finished talking. "With her strength, she's likely to occupy a majority of the enemy side and have enough skill to survive. Meanwhile, we must achieve two objectives."
"Wait, wait! Hold on," Ritsuka interjected with a frown. "How can you be so sure that Saber will be alright?"
Archer's lip twitched before curving up.
"Has she killed Jeanne yet?" He inquired.
Jeanne perked up upon hearing her name.
Archer pinched the bridge of his nose. "Other Jeanne," he specified.
"Well, no," Ritsuka answered in confusion.
Then there you have it, Archer crossed his arms. "Then she won't die until Jeanne does, and that's all that matters. Saber's not one to die easily, especially if she bears a grudge. Back on topic, but what you all should do, is find a way to deal with the Dragon while I scout with Independent Action to locate their Holy Grail."
It was a sound suggestion, but staring at everyone's faces aside from Jeanne, Archer could see confusion.
"Dragon? You mean wyverns?" Olga clarified, a shiver travelling down her spine. "We know she's called the Dragon Witch, but we thought it was a common misconception that people had about mistaking Wyverns for Dragons."
Jeanne had to break it to everyone, as she and Archer had long since seen Jeanne Alter's largest mount.
"My other self has a big Dragon she calls Fafnir," Jeanne admitted.
"The one in the legend?" Romani's voice echoed out of nowhere, but Jeanne was used to it by now.
"Likely," she said with furrowed brows. "But it doesn't seem to possess much in the way of intelligence. So, it's probably just a collection of magic energy in Fafnir's form."
"A terrifying collection, you mean." Da Vinci interjected, replacing Romani's voice. "Dragons are at the apex of Phantasmals, carrying overbearing magical energy. It's to the point that even the Clock Tower of the Mages Association was specially built in its location due to the corpse of a Dragon rotting beneath and altering the land."
"There's a solution to this problem though."
Everyone glanced at Archer, as he had been the one present the longest in this era.
"In my scouting, I've come across information of certain Servants materializing like Jeanne, two of which will be of help. They are both Dragon Slayers, one sighted in Bordeaux and the other near Paris. With their anti-Dragon properties and Noble Phantasms, we should be able to deal with any Wyverns or Dragons while attempting a strike on Jeanne Alter."
Dragon Slayers, Heroes renowned for their feat of slaying the mighty winged lizards. Everyone could understand how helpful they could be right now.
"Then leave the Dragon Slayer in Bordeaux to my Master and I," Sasaki suggested with a relaxed grin that was short lived.
"Don't overestimate yourself. I don't want to get you killed," Olga shot the idea down immediately with the same response from before. Sasaki sighed, but still wished to try appealing.
"Honoured Master-"
Olga raised her hand, and opened her mouth to speak, but was stopped by one sentence from Archer.
"It's a good call," Archer nodded at Sasaki, much to Olga's stupor.
She pouted. Who was the real Master here? Him or me?
"Meanwhile, Ritsuka, you and your Servants can go to Paris and look for the Dragon Slayer there."
Though they had their doubts, after much deliberation, it was agreed to be the best solution. As for Archer, he had other plans in mind other than just locating the Holy Grail. There was a Demon lurking in the shadows, and he knew full well that it may in truth be the largest danger.
Let Chaldea worry about the Singularity, it was his duty to deal with the meddler.
While getting ready to leave, he paused as he noticed Sasaki approach.
"My gratitude, bowman." Sasaki said his thanks. If not for Archer vouching for him, perhaps he may not have seen any action at all. "I will see this task through."
"I know you will," The words Archer said were filled with a certain kind of meaning, but they eluded Sasaki for the Sasaki Archer knew wasn't the same as the Sasaki before him now.
A second later, and Archer bade his farewell under Olga's twitching face.
T-The bastard actually left her with no remorse!
Meanwhile, it was decided that Jeanne would be accompanying Ritsuka to help smooth things over as Mash was still relatively inexperienced as a Servant. Of course, this was the excuse on the surface, but for some reason Jeanne was growing more and more suspicious of Sieg and constantly found herself following him. This may actually be the real reason.
"Cheer up chairman," Ritsuka came to comfort Olga while his side got ready to leave. "Your Servants mean well and Archer looks like he has his own problems."
Then what about my problems? Olga felt increasingly bitter while stewing in her own nervousness and watching her Servants get ready to depart.
"Yeah. At least they're confident," she said. However, she was thinking differently.
Did confidence equate to strength or capability? Of course not.
"Don't die," Archer gave her a reminder through a telepathic link.
That ungrateful bastard! Explaining nothing and just leaving! What nerve!
She thought of her new contract with Archer. Her disappointment was immense, and her life may very well be ruined.
Watching Spartacus already running off and leaving her behind in his enthusiasm and Sasaki not-at-all concerned of the danger, she finally revealed her true thoughts about this operation moments after Ritsuka's group left.
"I'm going to die…"
/-/
-The path of a sword knows only of dedication.
/-/
The winds blew softly, panning back to the scene of three individuals walking through a steady dirt road towards the town of Bordeaux where a Dragon Slayer was said to be spotted. The leader of the group looked nervous, a constant furrow in her brow while the brute of a towering man of muscle beside her acted as her shield.
At the front, a nameless samurai walked with poise, unfettered by the obstacles before him.
Everything was as it had been explained in the camp, proving Archer's scouting abilities to be excellent.
Wyverns, and dozens of them at that, prowled around the vicinity of the town. There may even be more that just couldn't be seen, and all exhibited a ferocity and magical energy that superseded ordinary beasts.
Remembering that this was even after the distraction Saber Alter must have been causing, and the scale of the Dragon Witch invasion of France could clearly be seen. These wyverns accompanying Jeanne Alter were an army on their own.
Olga shuddered at the sight, unable to see how they could possibly pull this off. If a Dragon Slayer truly did reside in that besieged town, then what were the chances that he was still alive anyway?
"Data indicates a faint Servant reading within the town," Da Vinci informed.
Pretty high then. Olga felt her stomach drop at the announcement. Honestly, she felt like she'd rather have Romani monitoring her than Da Vinci who was competent. Olga could really use someone to scold right now to sooth her nerves.
Wasn't she just asking to die if she proceeded onward? Sure, she had two Servants, but the other side had an army of higher-grade Phantasmals that were off-shoots of Dragons. The prospects already sounded bleak as they were.
-The gentle breeze continues to blow, drawing time back to an era where honour and heroism was immortalized in myth.
Sasaki began striding forth after a moment of reprieve. His gaze was unwavering, his gait, measured. The silk-like strands of his hair tied into a long topknot billowed.
-Reservedness, humility, and respect do not mean weakness.
"Do you have a plan to sneak past them?" Olga called out unsurely, sticking close to Spartacus to keep him nearby to protect her.
If Sasaki could hear Olga's wavering tone, he no longer allowed it to bother him anymore.
-Harmony is achieved not through boundless confidence or innate ability, but through countless repetition.
"Plan?" He shook his head wryly. "I will greet them at the gates."
He continued forth. This time, if Olga truly wished to stop him, she'd have to use a Command Spell.
In his eyes, he'd entered a swordsman's state of enlightenment.
One hand grasped the hilt of his sword strapped over his back, the other carefully tightened the sash of his yukata.
-The rhythm of his heartbeat calmed within his chest.
He would stand not with pride, nor arrogance, but with the will to remain resolute in the face of impossibility. His form seemed to glow with a peerless luster; his every movement carefully controlled and mediated.
The magical energy of his class expanded out from him like a torch of iridescent blue, a provocation, and a signal to alert all to his presence. It wasn't showy, nor overbearing, but feeble and insignificant in the face of the combined might of his adversaries.
How laughable. How heedless of reality.
Surely, he would crumble. The sword would break; the sword would shatter.
Yet to him, there was no need to hide, nor consider anything from a deeper meaning no matter how useless or futile things may seem.
One would not hope to cleave a mountain with a mere piece of metal, yet if struck enough times, all foundations would break.
The shing of a two-meter blade leaving its sheath echoed in the hills and plains dominated by Wyverns who growled at this lone figure's approach.
-The null stands before the one.
Before ingenuity, nature is the basis of all things. The swiftest of all birds, the nimble swallow is said to be almost impossible to cut midflight.
"Watch out!" Olga screamed in warning as the nearest wyverns charged at him with their claws.
-Ah, tranquil serenity. Oh, woeful ignorance.
The movements born from iteration after iteration took hold.
His eyes sharpened, a gleam upon his sword's edge shining as steel swiveled through the air pointed forward. His arms took their position, his legs assuming their frontal stance.
-Dancing leaves and fluttering wings give way to the concealed blade.
It was too fast, too quick.
That sword could cut through space itself and surpass the void in a multi-directional slash.
No Noble Phantasm?
Three cuts slashed out simultaneously without any usage of magical energy but through skill alone surpassing the threshold of mortal means and entering the divine.
Did he really need it?
It mattered not for defense or difference in capability, this sword had entered into a higher realm in which no mortal could claim superiority.
His sword clicked back in place within his sheath as he appeared on the other side of the Wyverns quickest to reach him. Blood spurted out as three distinct lines formed over their forms while the pieces separated all at once and cluttered to the ground.
No one had seen it. None able to comprehend.
Oh, lamentable fate. Oh, cruel mistress.
This man was forced into the wrong class.
For even if he was a Saber with the bare minimum of class attributes…he would have been a Saber like none other.
Sasaki Kojiro: a nameless samurai with dedication comparable to legend and vaunted equal of Musashi.
A swordsman of infinity rivaling the void.
"Dragons or Wyverns?"
The blood spilled by his blade smeared the leaves of grass with drops of red as his figure continued unfettered.
Olga found herself enraptured in this moment.
"They are just bigger swallows."
The audacity.
Status de energia semanal
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