Something that felt like a mace collided with Huh's temple with an almighty crack and she reeled, stars bursting behind her eyes. For a moment what her mind was processing seemed only a product of her addled senses.
The corpse had attacked her. The dead woman had lurched to life and driven the butt of her ancient percussion into the side of her skull and sent her sprawling. The dead woman that she had intended to decapitate, would have, were it not for Lancer's torpor-inducing gaze. The forced hesitation had given the other woman enough time to notice her death approaching but the blow had still near cleaved her in two from shoulder to hip, it should have killed her!
Huh's brain reconnected with her spine at some point when she was rolling to the floor, her gun nervelessly clattering out of her hand before she had the chance to fully draw it.
For once, mercifully, she could not hear the voice, because there was simply no space to process anything but a dull and rapidly intensifying ache in her bones.
Ali had been busy. Activating the sprinklers, pulling the fire alarm, checking that people were headed for the door. Setting some particularly decadent bits of scenery on fire as he went. But he couldn't leave the fight for long. While Karna seemed to recognize Edward's servant the simple nature of the class cards meant that that would only ever be a temporary measure.
And so Ali headed back towards the Archery Range, waiting on the other side of the wall, sword at the ready.
<I'm on the other side of the wall. Tell me when to jump in.>
After Mary landed, she simply paused for a moment and frowned, almost as if she couldn't quite believe what had happened. She looked down at her feet, plunged a few inches into the concrete, and began to grumble something about shoddy construction. Neither Castle McArtair nor the streets of Camelot would have been broken by as little force as a grown woman falling at terminal velocity. With an angry sigh, Mary ripped her feet from the concrete. If there was one bright side to this, it was that nobody was around to witness such an embarrassing moment. Well, there was Shirou, but he was such a nice boy, he wouldn't mention it to anyone.
Mary nodded and summoned her dragon wings again, flying up to the floors where the fire still raged. Caster grumbled in the back of her mind about how mere fire fighting was a bit beneath a mage of her talents, but considering her voice was muffled by three layers of Containment Seals, Mary could barely hear her. On the other hand, Mary was quite happy to help. It was something she could do to help others and keep them safe, without having to fight anyone. And it wasn't as if it was difficult to do. A wave of her hand and an arctic wind blew through the affected areas, cold enough to kill the flames but gentle enough not to disturb anything else.
With that minor task done, Mary smile with satisfaction before sending out a general call over telepathy. <We've driven off Berserker from the hotel. Does anyone else need any help?>
He gave a wave of thanks to Bertrice for the chill wind that swept through the shattered window and quelled the flames that roared within 'Gabriel's room, saving the hotel and a lot more hypnosis work. A moment later he dropped down over the side and landed flat-footed on the scorched balcony, picking his way back inside as smokestained glass crunched underfoot. Belikova knelt in the centre of the room, having shielded one small puddle of black poison with her body, the better to carefully poke and prod it into a small glass vial. Shirou glanced over his shoulder in case Mary decided to pop in for a visit rather than help her teammates.
"Where were you?" he asked under his breath. "Bertrice might have died!"
"We are not supposed to fight on the front lines unless absolutely necessary," Belikova reminded him. "You most of all. Or have you forgotten your own words so readily?"
"I know I- I know," he said, exasperation giving way to resignation. "It's just difficult, in the heat of the moment. I'm sure you understand."
Belikova gave a dry chuckle. "Yes tovarich, I should think we've known each other long enough for that. I was able to plant a rudimentary probe in the Berserker's mind - difficult when he has two of them, but not impossible. Should Widogast not kill him tonight, we may soon have our way into the enemy stronghold."
"Good, good." Shirou ran his fingers through his hair, straightening a few errant spikes that had begun to fall. "And the mud? Is it the real thing?"
"I will need time, but..." Belikova straightened up, holding the vial to eye level as she turned. "At a glance there is a certain uncanny sim-"
Her eyes sharpened, focusing in on the scratch Hyde left on his cheek. "(Ruler)," she hissed.
Shirou dabbed at the clotting wound. Staring at the black smear that came away on his thumb. He rubbed harder, as if vigorously scrubbing away an oil stain, and sealed the scratch with a shot of od. He gave the dry spot a few experimental touches, and swallowed.
"No one saw," he said, as much to reassure Belikova as himself. "No one saw. I- when you have the time I need you to make me more Black Keys, I ran out tonight."
Belikova sighed, shooting him a look of almost motherly disapproval despite the circumstances. She patted him on the arm. "It will be done."
Whipping, lashing, beating, bashing. Everywhere Hyde turned more servants of the forest, more vines and branches and roots underfoot. It didn't matter how many his claws scythed through, there were always more. More to bludgeon him, more to inflict pain and humiliation upon pain and humiliation without breaking the skin, without letting him bleed more black poison except under the skin. He barely sounded human any more, the grunts and growls and snarls of utter fury more suited to a rabid wolf than a man. Before long he was more like a living shadow, a bestial smear of darkness blacker than the night that bounded on all fours, leaping from tree to tree, racing to escape the trap Bertrice had laid even as it howled a promise of revenge. Not that they seemed to mind.
<Mary, I'm sorry but I have to advise caution,> came Shirou's voice at last. <Too many Containment Seals have already been burned tonight. If you must go to help someone, please at least end the Install first so it doesn't take you off-guard.>
The advice seemed foolish. Mary felt better than ever. Perhaps he was misjudging her vast reserves of mana? Sure she was no Archer, but the draconic furnace of power that came with Caster's mantle seemed inexhaustible.
Assassin patted Arkady reassuringly on the thighs. He seemed quite calm to be lying there with a vicious Avenger sitting on him - but then again, he'd already been in this position with Arkady so perhaps he was just used to it.
"Hey, that's alright. I get that." Assassin idly plucked at one of the silk loops, the ribbon almost twanging as it kept snapping back from the tip of one gutting onyx talon to Arkady's bare skin without so much as a thread out of place. It reminded one of a cat kneading a curtain or a blanket. He looked up, meeting Arkady's gaze once more. "I'm sorry for bringing Saber into it - believe me, I didn't want to - but in fairness I was probably going to die if I didn't. Your friend's reaction to my Noble Phantasm's 'low' setting was ah, quite intense."
He drummed his talons on Arkady's thighs thoughtfully. "Well, what would you like to do now?" he asked. "For what it's worth Saber's probably coming off worse in the match-up with your friend so I don't think you'll be needing to decapitate me and race back off to make it a two-on-one. So feel free, I'm game for whatever."
And then Assassin smiled that toothy, threatening, sensual smile that made Arkady suspect that somehow every single part of this had been part of some secret Machiavellian plan to get a rise out of him. It was incredibly irritating.
Saber's gaze was hard and resolute as she met Jin-ae's. No flicker of guilt, no barb taking root in a sensitive gap in the armour. She only raised Uriel Zay into an ox guard, smooth and practised.
"What ever gave you the impression that Engelburg was the Eden I swore to protect?" she asked.
And then Jin-ae erupted in a blaze of power, her very being overwritten by every ounce of might Rider could bring to bear, and Cesare Borgia announced his glory to the highest heavens. Many things flashed through Saber's eyes - recognition, resignation, grim determination - all lost in a flash as their blades met and the infernal aura of Cesare's armour washed over her like the heat of an open furnace. Scorching, burning, scouring the layers of holy protection from her body like steel wool. The air itself burned.
The clash of blades filled the house of God, echoing between the columns and arches as the Servants clashed. Saber's broadsword wheeling and spinning, turning to a new angle again and again as she fought to keep up with Cesare. Cesare's smaller sword flashed out like a stinger, pushing her back, pushing her to the brink, scoring blow after glancing blow around her guard. Her habit was burning, the holy garment slowly consumed by the pulsing waves of tainted hunger emanating from Cesare's armour. Saber made space and tore it free of her body with a grunt of disgust, what black rags remained burning up into motes of mana as it fell. Sucked away into the armour rather than simply dispersing on the wind.
A stone column collapsed around her, breaking over her back like thin wood as Cesare bodily thrust her through it. She stumbled, righted, pushed back against her with all her might. The two women spun and came into a clash, weapons and arms entangled, an artless struggle of brute strength on brute strength as the abbey crumbled around them. Feeding her opponent, helping her grow stronger by the second. Already they were an even match in brute strength, already Saber was wounded while Cesare's own injuries healed before her eyes.
Traje de Luces had burned it all away, and what remained was nothing but Saber. A woman who could have been her mother or grandmother, faded-blonde hair beginning to fall free of its braid, emerald eyes bright with unyielding anger, teeth bared. She wore a full suit of mail, sleeves of silver rings gleaming around her straining arms, leggings jingling as she shuffled and struggled for a stronger footing. A scarlet tabard covered her chest and hung low past her waist, emblazoned with the image of a golden-collared dog rampant.
"Quando il cane finirà l'ossa, finirà casa Canossa," she hissed. "Matilde di Canossa will not die so easily. Least of all to you, Borgia."
She forced Cesare back, their blades disengaging with a metallic note that seemed to almost hang in the air. Matilda drove forward, her holy protection burned to ashes, nothing but her own might to protect her. A brutal horizontal sweep that aimed to batter Cesare's rapier aside through brute force, momentum skillfully reversed on the backswing with a roll of the wrists. She drove forward again, each step seeming to shake the ground. Top hand shifting up into a half-sword grip, leveraging her great blade like a spear as she thrust it into Cesare's breastplate with all her might. If nothing else, to scar or crack that gaudy pagan eyesore would be a victory in its own right.
Magic Resistance: A
The ability to resist magecraft. Matila is virtually untouchable by magi of many stripes, protected as she is by her holy conviction. However, she remains vulnerable to the mysteries of her own faith.
Riding: B
Mastery of mounts. Matilda can skillfully handle any beast or vehicle she commands, but the likes of Phantasmal Creatures are beyond her.
Charisma: C+
The talent for commanding others, and overall force of personality. Matilda's presence naturally commands respect as a noblewoman and commander alike, as befitting la Gran Contessa.
Karna seemed to cross the space between them in the blink of an eye. One moment Edward was still reeling, still clutching his card to his chest and trying to remember how to breathe. The next Karna's cruel iron grip was on his shoulders, claws digging deep into the soft meat, hauling him to his feet only to shake him violently. It was a grip that could literally tear the man in two, easy as anything.
Karna searched his face, his gaze, for any sign that Duryodhana still lingered. He reached up to roughly cup his chin, claws digging painfully into his cheeks as he turned Edward's face this way and that.
"Bring-"
His gaze flicked lower. Down to the card clutched close in Edward's sweaty hand, to the incomplete scarlet brand that marked the back of the other. To the faded smudge where one of the three once sat. His breathing was ragged. His one visible eye gleamed with a wild, desperate light, the one hidden by his hair glowering like a coal ready to reignite. It was as if Edward were trapped in the grip of a lion, his life hanging in the balance of a great cat's whim.
Karna let out a yell of helpless fury and sorrow, hurling Edward to the ground with such force the Enforcer bounced. Landing in a dirty heap in the ruined and ruptured earth, limbs askew, lucky to be alive and intact besides. He forced himself to turn away and slowly curl his bent claws into complete fists, rigid by his sides.
"Get out," he hissed. "Go. Get out of my sight. Both of you."
He stalked away, his shadowy cloak billowing behind him with every step. He flung out one arm stiffly, making it flicker and swirl around him until the shroud of darkness Ali had dispelled returned once more.
"Take this as a victory if you must. I don't care."
Ali had been busy. Activating the sprinklers, pulling the fire alarm, checking that people were headed for the door. Setting some particularly decadent bits of scenery on fire as he went. But he couldn't leave the fight for long. While Karna seemed to recognize Edward's servant the simple nature of the class cards meant that that would only ever be a temporary measure.
And so Ali headed back towards the Archery Range, waiting on the other side of the wall, sword at the ready.
<I'm on the other side of the wall. Tell me when to jump in.>
Karna seemed to cross the space between them in the blink of an eye. One moment Edward was still reeling, still clutching his card to his chest and trying to remember how to breathe. The next Karna's cruel iron grip was on his shoulders, claws digging deep into the soft meat, hauling him to his feet only to shake him violently. It was a grip that could literally tear the man in two, easy as anything.
Karna searched his face, his gaze, for any sign that Duryodhana still lingered. He reached up to roughly cup his chin, claws digging painfully into his cheeks as he turned Edward's face this way and that.
"Bring-"
His gaze flicked lower. Down to the card clutched close in Edward's sweaty hand, to the incomplete scarlet brand that marked the back of the other. To the faded smudge where one of the three once sat. His breathing was ragged. His one visible eye gleamed with a wild, desperate light, the one hidden by his hair glowering like a coal ready to reignite. It was as if Edward were trapped in the grip of a lion, his life hanging in the balance of a great cat's whim.
Karna let out a yell of helpless fury and sorrow, hurling Edward to the ground with such force the Enforcer bounced. Landing in a dirty heap in the ruined and ruptured earth, limbs askew, lucky to be alive and intact besides. He forced himself to turn away and slowly curl his bent claws into complete fists, rigid by his sides.
"Get out," he hissed. "Go. Get out of my sight. Both of you."
He stalked away, his shadowy cloak billowing behind him with every step. He flung out one arm stiffly, making it flicker and swirl around him until the shroud of darkness Ali had dispelled returned once more.
"Take this as a victory if you must. I don't care."
It was a testament to just how shaken Duryodhana's emotions had left Edward that he managed to all but forget that there was an angry demigod right in front of him, an angry demigod that had just gotten a glimpse of someone important to him before having it cruelly ripped away. It took Ali's words to shake Edward out of that spell, and even then Karna moved so quickly that he couldn't get out more than a brief message to his teammate before he was yanked to his feet and fixed with that desperate, longing gaze from the blackened warrior.
<N-No, Ali, you can't----!>
Meeting Karna's gaze would be difficult at the best of times, but it was worse now, worse with that warmth in his chest. His shoulders burned where sharp claws punctured the skin, his body protested as he was shaken in the air, and his heart sang for the closeness that he had despite the pain. It wasn't his love, he knew that, but he clung to it greedily regardless, desperate to retain that feeling for just a little longer, like he was coming down from a high and doing all he could to keep it going. He tried to look away but Karna grabbed his face and stared, looking for even a single glimpse of the man who had faded away a few moments earlier.
He found two.
Edward's left eye was still the unusual red colour that it had always been, but his right had changed. Deep red had been replaced with a pupil the colour of molten gold, twinkling in the firelight, and in the Enforcer's red hair there lay a neat streak of dark purple. The Containment Seal's use and his own willing submission to Duryodhana's will had left its mark, but it was nothing but a cruel tease for Karna. While the card was clutched against Edward's chest instead of nestled in his soul, his mind was his own.
For a moment, he stared at those wild eyes, fear and love and anger and pain coalescing into a maelstrom of emotion that he was far from well equipped to deal with. For a moment, he wondered if Karna was going to kill him, to just seize his shoulders and pull until he came apart. It wouldn't have been hard, as simple as tearing a sheet of paper in half. For a moment, Edward wondered if anyone would even miss him.
It was nothing but habit that saved his life as Karna moved. Before he could realise what he was doing, sea-green light shone from his skin as his Circuits fired up, and he managed to Reinforce his body just before he hit the ground. It didn't stop it from hurting badly enough to make him cry out as his vision went white for a moment, until he could twist and shift his body so that his broken, useless right arm wasn't being pinned between him and the ground. It was all he could do to stay conscious, breathing hard and letting the burn of his Circuits keep him aware as he stared after Karna, his throat far too tight to say even a single word. They'd survived, but calling it a victory would have been a bad joke.
Once he caught himself and was able to think properly again, Edward grit his teeth and began to think, hoping that he wasn't screwing up the process as he sent his messages, first to Ali, then to Shirou.
<Still alive. Broken arm for sure, probably worse inside. How are you holding up after that fire? And...I'm sorry.> There were a thousand excuses he could have used, that Karna would have killed Ali, that he wasn't in his right state of mind when he'd begged Ali not to strike, that the Card had influenced him more than he thought. All of them felt hollow, so he left the apology as it was and moved on.
<Rider of Black is Karna. Ali and I fought him. We're both still alive, but we'll need Mary when we get back.> A pause, a moment's hesitance, before pushing forward. Fake though he might be, hearing confession was a priest's job, right? <I know why Duryodhana hid his Noble Phantasm. I might need some kind of...spiritual checkup when I'm back.>
"Quando il cane finirà l'ossa, finirà casa Canossa," she hissed. "Matilde di Canossa will not die so easily. Least of all to you, Borgia."
She forced Cesare back, their blades disengaging with a metallic note that seemed to almost hang in the air. Matilda drove forward, her holy protection burned to ashes, nothing but her own might to protect her. A brutal horizontal sweep that aimed to batter Cesare's rapier aside through brute force, momentum skillfully reversed on the backswing with a roll of the wrists. She drove forward again, each step seeming to shake the ground. Top hand shifting up into a half-sword grip, leveraging her great blade like a spear as she thrust it into Cesare's breastplate with all her might. If nothing else, to scar or crack that gaudy pagan eyesore would be a victory in its own right.
Skill at arms, force of will, the refined graces of high nobility, all traits they find pleasing in a partner. That her beauty echoes their own, that this stirs their lust as well...it isn't as if they are the first to see a resemblance to themselves and call it perfection.
But when she says their name. That inflection. That acid dripping from her lips. Catalan. Morano. (Chink. Slanteye they can both feel it, feel it where one ends and the other begins, where they bleed across lines).
It would be a fine thing. A very fine thing, for the future of this relationship, to knock a few edges off that Tuscan arrogance.
The attack comes with a master's skill and a crusader's zeal, momentum building upon itself to open the way for the heart strike.
They can't parry, her heavier blade is an edge even if their strength is the same. Retreat, then? Draw back, return to stance, begin from a neutral position?
No. Attack. Always attack. Find a way to strike back. Any defense can broken, any guard battered down in time. Trust only in the attack.
Rider of Red lunges. Moving into the thrust, dropping low, one knee almost touching the crumbling flagstones. Saber's blade will strike her shoulder guard. Her helm. Carve a bloody furrow through their jaw, it doesn't matter. They attack, their sword flashing upwards, point rising towards her eye, the selfsame eye they lost in their other guise.
Something else they can share with her. If it doesn't pierce all the way through and into her brain.
Assassin patted Arkady reassuringly on the thighs. He seemed quite calm to be lying there with a vicious Avenger sitting on him - but then again, he'd already been in this position with Arkady so perhaps he was just used to it.
"Hey, that's alright. I get that." Assassin idly plucked at one of the silk loops, the ribbon almost twanging as it kept snapping back from the tip of one gutting onyx talon to Arkady's bare skin without so much as a thread out of place. It reminded one of a cat kneading a curtain or a blanket. He looked up, meeting Arkady's gaze once more. "I'm sorry for bringing Saber into it - believe me, I didn't want to - but in fairness I was probably going to die if I didn't. Your friend's reaction to my Noble Phantasm's 'low' setting was ah, quite intense."
He drummed his talons on Arkady's thighs thoughtfully. "Well, what would you like to do now?" he asked. "For what it's worth Saber's probably coming off worse in the match-up with your friend so I don't think you'll be needing to decapitate me and race back off to make it a two-on-one. So feel free, I'm game for whatever."
And then Assassin smiled that toothy, threatening, sensual smile that made Arkady suspect that somehow every single part of this had been part of some secret Machiavellian plan to get a rise out of him. It was incredibly irritating.
"Mnnnniitsfiiiiiiiine..." reassurance teased out from behind too-sharp teeth; his jaw clenched in something more a predatory pout, a sulky mood than real, true, aggravation. Than anything like actual anger. He stood, staring up at the flame-scorched sky. The orange glow of the primary blaze, the secondary fires, reflected in the great clouds of smoke. Flakes of ash falling like snow, landing on his tanned skin and instantly smeared into dark streaks as he absently scratched at them. He flicked his wrist absently, ribbons spitting off, unspooling around his forearm. A great spiral of whispering cloth that forked and divided, winding up Assassin's legs like a candy-cane stripe. A half-aware jerk and the Servant was bodily pulled out of the rubble once more, snapped into the air and snagged effortlessly. One sinewy arm around his waist, the demon-dragon staring down Arkady's back.
Over the shoulder, caveman style.
A click of the tongue, his other hand held outstretched. The distant sound of an impact and then his suitcase, his fucking suitcase, came whirling over the rooftops like a leather-bound discus. Spinning end over end over end before the handle smacked into his waiting palm. He started walking, grit and gravel crunching under bare feet. Utterly unselfconscious for all that he was walking nearly naked through a charming, half-gutted Swiss Town with an actually naked demon being hefted like a sack of so much flower.
"I promised you dinner didn't I? So I'm going to make you dinner. And then..."
A small smile, a shrug that made Assassin all but bounce on his perch.
"Dunno, we'll see. Night's not over yet y'know? We've got plenty of time to think it over."
As soon as Mary had heard Shirou pass on Edward's message, she summoned her wings again and took off, leaving the smoking hotel behind her. She flew back to where she had just left, where she had left Edward behind. As she flew, she bit the inside of her cheek. She didn't know how injured Edward was, Shirou hadn't said anything other than he needed to see her, but.... Well, with Karna as his opponent, Mary wasn't optimistic. And this was the second time. Once again, Edward was injured and all Mary could do was patch him up after the fact. For all the sheer power the Caster card gave her, it still didn't help her keep her... friend, safe. She had failed to protect him, just like...
Mary beat her wings and increased her speed. Maybe it wouldn't be to bad.
Ali's lungs are fire. Every breath is pain and his limbs are heavy with exhaustion. But he was alive, Karna had left, and they had learned....quite a lot, really. It wasn't a victory by the team's terms, but it was a victory by his.
Though Edward seemed to have suffered quite a bit for it.
Ali stumbled next to him, clasping a shoulder with exaggerated tenderness. He didn't say anything, but his presence was there. Maybe reassuring, maybe distinctly unwanted. Definitely leaning on him to stay upright though. He nods as Mary confirms her approach, then pouts for no apparent reason. "Karna's probably not going to tell us those secrets, is he," he said mildly, "That's...unfortunate."
The battle was decided in a single blow. A clash of iron and will, ended in one perfect moment of almost absolute stillness and blossoming, blinding agony.
Uriel Zay carved a deep gouge in the side of Cesare's helm, its broad tip snapping the pauldron completely from his shoulder. Punching through the cuirass beneath like paper. Her shoulder lay transfixed, paralysed. It would be the easiest thing for Matilda to step into her oh-so-slightly-mis-aimed thrust, to lever her broadsword and take Cesare's head from her shoulders like a fish.
She could not move. She could not even blink. Her breath came in sick, shallow sips through gritted teeth and it took everything she had left, everything she was, not to fall. Against a lesser opponent Cesare surely would have found her rapier from the back of their skull like a skewer, but no. Still she clung to life. Still she drew breath, the point of the blade lodged only a short ways past her eye.
One step back. Two. Three. Her footfalls echoed in the ruined abbey as she staggered, nearly fell, drawing her blade free with a sickening, wet scchhhrrrick from the home it had made in Cesare's shoulder.
She fell to one knee with a jingling crash of mail on stone, the tip of Uriel Zay piercing the floor as she leaned on the holy sword like a mere cane. And what else was it, in the presence of Cesare's armour of forged apostasy, but a hunk of hammered steel? Matilda clapped her hand over what had become of her eye, hoping to stem the flow even as it merely trickled through her fingers four red rivulets.
"... h- ha..." she croaked. "You've some mettle... after all..."
The shadows lightened around them. The moon's pale light streamed in from the west, bathing the two women in silver and scarlet. Slowly, one by one, azure motes of light began to rise from Matilda's body. Her lips drew into a bitter, grim slash as she finally noticed.
"Your comrades have... done well," she said, every breath laboured. Every other accumulated wound courtesy of Cesare weighed heavily upon her, woven together like a blanket of lead. "I am... being called... to defend... in case of pursuit. And I must... obey."
She closed the only eye she had left, shaking her head slightly. "When we next meet, Borgia."
The contessa faded from Cesare's eyes, and Jin-ae's eye soon after. Leaving the abbey she once defended, so proudly and so resolutely, in rubble and ruin. Their enemy's holy stronghold had been profaned, desecrated, and perhaps that would be enough of a balm to their pain and pride. At least for now.
The Masters of Red had survived another night, and gained a few more crucial pieces to the puzzle besides. Yet the gaps between remained so yawningly vast, the full picture obscured in shadow. And for some, the full extent of what they had lost in exchanged still remained to be seen.
Though the sun had not yet risen the night's fighting was done, both sides limping home to lick their wounds and collect themselves. Belikova travelled northeast to meet Mari and Huh, escorting them back down the silent moonlit roads with nary a word - she had already sensed much of the fight, of course. Mary saw Edward and Ali back safely, collecting Jin-ae on the way back to the hotel where Shirou had remained to receive them.
Shirou visited all Masters of Red to personally check and treat their wounds - save for Arkady, who once again passed the rest of the night in the intimate company of Assassin where he would not be disturbed. For the most part he sent the Masters to bed to recover almost immediately, but in Edward's case he waited until he had the full story. The young priest's face was inscrutable, his eyes full of something no observer could quite unravel. Soon enough he left the Enforcer to his bed-rest too.
The sun rose on the third day of the Grail War, over an idyllic Swiss town that had been torn near asunder by the battles that raged through its streets. Their beds were comfortable, fast becoming treasured companions, and it was only at midmorning that Shirou called them to reconvene in the conference room to compare notes.
And then there was another message, words meant only for one.
<Edward?> Shirou's mental voice was as calm and even as ever, but the undercurrent of seriousness and urgency was all-too-noticeable. <I need to speak with you in private at your earliest convenience. I can meet you in your room right now if you like - Belikova is ready and able to conduct the meeting without me.>
Ali's lungs are fire. Every breath is pain and his limbs are heavy with exhaustion. But he was alive, Karna had left, and they had learned....quite a lot, really. It wasn't a victory by the team's terms, but it was a victory by his.
Though Edward seemed to have suffered quite a bit for it.
Ali stumbled next to him, clasping a shoulder with exaggerated tenderness. He didn't say anything, but his presence was there. Maybe reassuring, maybe distinctly unwanted. Definitely leaning on him to stay upright though. He nods as Mary confirms her approach, then pouts for no apparent reason. "Karna's probably not going to tell us those secrets, is he," he said mildly, "That's...unfortunate."
Ali's reaction surprised him. He'd expected chastisement, to be berated, to be blamed for turning what might have been a surprise victory into an inarguable failure. To have the other man simply stumble to his side and clasp his shoulder, thankfully the unbroken one, had been something completely out of left field. Of course, that wasn't to say he disliked it. Having a failure met with understanding and support, a silent presence that reassured him he wasn't alone despite what he'd managed to screw up, was a brand new experience for him, but one he was learning to thoroughly appreciate. When Ali spoke up he couldn't stop himself from letting out a hoarse chuckle, before wincing in pain as the movement irritated his tender ribs.
"...No. Kind of a shame, hah. Maybe he'll show up later and tell us over some tea."
Though the sun had not yet risen the night's fighting was done, both sides limping home to lick their wounds and collect themselves. Belikova travelled northeast to meet Mari and Huh, escorting them back down the silent moonlit roads with nary a word - she had already sensed much of the fight, of course. Mary saw Edward and Ali back safely, collecting Jin-ae on the way back to the hotel where Shirou had remained to receive them.
Shirou visited all Masters of Red to personally check and treat their wounds - save for Arkady, who once again passed the rest of the night in the intimate company of Assassin where he would not be disturbed. For the most part he sent the Masters to bed to recover almost immediately, but in Edward's case he waited until he had the full story. The young priest's face was inscrutable, his eyes full of something no observer could quite unravel. Soon enough he left the Enforcer to his bed-rest too.
The sun rose on the third day of the Grail War, over an idyllic Swiss town that had been torn near asunder by the battles that raged through its streets. Their beds were comfortable, fast becoming treasured companions, and it was only at midmorning that Shirou called them to reconvene in the conference room to compare notes.
And then there was another message, words meant only for one.
<Edward?> Shirou's mental voice was as calm and even as ever, but the undercurrent of seriousness and urgency was all-too-noticeable. <I need to speak with you in private at your earliest convenience. I can meet you in your room right now if you like - Belikova is ready and able to conduct the meeting without me.>
He tried to smile when Mary arrived, to maybe suggest that he wasn't as bad as he looked, but his limp arm and the bruising that was starting to mottle his skin told a very different story. The flight back was a return to the guilt he'd felt before, taking the expert healing that Mary had given the night before and using it to get himself beaten up worse than before. At least his injuries this time hadn't involved any of that mud, though it had certainly played a part in the night's events. The thought made him shiver, and it was only when he was being treated by Shirou and Mary that he allowed himself to feel any sort of relaxation.
There had been no gentle massage, no soft words exchanged that deepened a bond, but when he was returned to a soft bed with a mug of hot tea and a chance to finally have that smoke he'd been craving, he found it hard to care too much. He'd thank them in the morning. Between the tea in his stomach and the calming smoke in his lungs, it was a struggle to not simply fall back into his bed and drift away, a struggle he had no desire at all to fight. He slept like a log right up until Shirou called for them, before grimacing to himself at the private message. For a moment he considered it, before shaking his head to himself as he began to dress himself, moving his right arm as gently as he could to avoid any mishaps, just in case.
<I'm fine, Shirou. I'll come to the meeting, it's better for everyone to be there. We can talk after.> The fancy that maybe Mary or one of the others would worry about him if he wasn't there flitted through his mind quickly before he dismissed it, focusing instead on what Shirou said. A moment passed before he sighed and sent another message, just in case.
Though the sun had not yet risen the night's fighting was done, both sides limping home to lick their wounds and collect themselves. Belikova travelled northeast to meet Mari and Huh, escorting them back down the silent moonlit roads with nary a word - she had already sensed much of the fight, of course. Mary saw Edward and Ali back safely, collecting Jin-ae on the way back to the hotel where Shirou had remained to receive them.
Shirou visited all Masters of Red to personally check and treat their wounds - save for Arkady, who once again passed the rest of the night in the intimate company of Assassin where he would not be disturbed. For the most part he sent the Masters to bed to recover almost immediately, but in Edward's case he waited until he had the full story. The young priest's face was inscrutable, his eyes full of something no observer could quite unravel. Soon enough he left the Enforcer to his bed-rest too.
The sun rose on the third day of the Grail War, over an idyllic Swiss town that had been torn near asunder by the battles that raged through its streets. Their beds were comfortable, fast becoming treasured companions, and it was only at midmorning that Shirou called them to reconvene in the conference room to compare notes.
Arkady is...fine, honestly. The absolute fucker. He even beats most everyone else here this time, sitting at the table when they walk in. Staring at the silver carts of food with a longing look. Cheek propped up on a fist and blinking blearily, snowy hair mussed up more than normal and the tanned skin beneath his eyes stained with shadows. He's even found himself a fresh set of clothes and his suitcase sits by his feet.
Bertrice, on the other hand, looks like they spent last night sleeping outside. The brunette mage's hair was a snarled mess of ginger and brown as they took a seat next to Arkady, leaning back and putting a pair of well used boots up on the fine wood. Their one visible eye lazily traced over the others, giving a brief nod to some, steadfastly ignoring Arkady and Jin-Ae. Their formerly crisp long, canvas coat was now draped over the back of their chair, and their familiar hung lank within; Bertrice had opted to forgo the Yggdmillenia uniform they usually wore beneath, and now simply wore a white shirt and denim trousers.
They didn't look like anything the woman from yesterday would have brought with her.
"So. Berserker of Black is Dr. Jekyll and Mister Hyde. Pretty much as soon as the sun went down, they had a seizure, transformed. Shirou and I fought him off; turns out Yew Bow is fairly handy for speeding up whatever causes his condition to go unstable." They laced their fingers behind their head and pushed against the table, leaning back on two legs. "Had to use a Containment Seal as you're all probably aware. But Mary and I managed to throw him off the building, and I made sure his trip back through the woods wasn't a pleasant evening stroll."
"Hyde's got beef with Gabriel, or Jekyll; the two personalities clash inside, and Hyde can only last so long before he has to change back. Of course, appealing to Gabriel is probably not really possible at this point, considering Jin-Ae ripped off his ear and fed it to Arkady." They pointed at one, then the other. They then withdrew the fingers and snapped them audibly.
"Oh yeah, and their notebook. Don't think we really had time to look into it, what with the exploding hotel room and selling my soul to kick a man off the roof. You had time to flip through that, Shirou?"
His wounds and burns have been healed but he is exhausted and drained. All of his muscles protest at the slightest movement, the abuse that facing Karna and channeling Hassan had pushed them through. He sits at one end of the table, eating plain food as he did yesterday, but far more of it than before. He waits patiently throughout Beatrice's explanation-or perhaps simply doesn't have the energy to interject- then gives them a once-over, as if looking for a lie.
Then he shrugs.
"Rider is Karna, albeit twisted and immensely powerful. My own Class Card is Hassan-i-Sabah, the original if I am not mistaken. Both revelations have their...own problems," he says, "There is some relation between Karna and Edward's own servant. More worryingly, there is something wrong with the town. Karna did not reveal what, but this place is Different somehow, and there is more going on here than the grail war.
We burned down a hotel but all things considered that seems to be about par for last night."
Also I have but one opportunity to witness the glory of God's name and it will probably kill me if I pursue it but that part goes unsaid, and does not need to be communicated by telepathy.
The door cracked open and, after a bit of noise outside, slowly got pushed inward as Mari entered. It had been a bit difficult, apparently, since she was balancing Huh over her shoulders, and trying to get through the door without knocking her head into the frame had required some adjustment. Opponent vanquished, she strode into the room. Mari glanced around, found a vacant sofa, and half-slid half-dumped the tiny communist onto it.
"...surprisingly heavy." She turned to the rest of the group. "She's still not feeling well after Harriet Tubman cold-clocked her. Guess she was pretty surprised since Huh'd cut her near in half. Can't say I was expecting it either, but I was focused on..." She pauses, considering. "finishing off Medusa. Got me pretty good too, I guess. Shot me with something but it didn't cause any physical damage." She shrugs. "Medusa's nearly dead and Tubman - Archer - is basically on death's door too. Doubt we'll see either of them tonight."
She shoves Huh to the side and plops down next to her. "Medusa's got some thing where she slows you down when she's got her eyes on you. If you see her, find a way to break the line of sight. Don't hesitate on killing her just because she looks like a kid," she gives pointed looks at some of the Masters she deems as soft-hearted, "she's just a monster in human flesh. We're here to do a job. Anyways, I'll be listening to the rest of the briefing. Just...need a little rest." She leans back into the cushions of the sofa, closing her eyes.
"Concern yourselves not with Saber of Black. Her sanctuary is rubble, her cloak of faith is ash, and her flesh is bruised and bleeding. Should she appear before us this night, I will end her."
Jin-ae is unchanged. There is nothing different about her, no voice that is not hers whispering in her thoughts, no alien desires clawing at her heart. She is a shaman, her family's Magecraft specialises in these matters, she has examined herself very thoroughly, she would know. Perhaps that's why she has managed to weather unleashing the first Seal so well, her experience with channeling inhuman presences into herself.
This is what she tells herself. This is what she repeats, as she dismisses the blonde streak slicing through her raven hair. Ignores the way lines of age and old scars have begun to fade and vanish. Overlooks how details like the fall of Bertrice's hair spilling over over her shoulders and the rippling of Arkady's muscles as he moves occasionally impress themselves on her perceptions.
The mood was subdued. The Masters of Red had won many victories the previous night, but not without cost. Many were wounded, scarred in body and soul. The night before last had been skirmishing, a mere prelude - this had been the night the war truly began. The breakfast buffet was even more robust than last time, the scent of fresh-cooked meat and egg, of hot coffee and cold juice, filling the air with a comforting aroma. Shirou stood at the podium as the first Masters began filtering in, muttering to Belikova as she seemingly tried to force him to eat or drink something. He gently waved her away at their arrival, and the Slavic psychic reluctantly withdrew to her usual place.
"Thank you all for..." he noticed Mari carrying Huh's limp form across her shoulders, hurling it into a seat beside her like a sack of grain. "... for coming this morning. Your daylight hours are a precious reprieve so long as our enemy continues to honour the rules of engagement, so I'll try to keep this brief."
"So. Berserker of Black is Dr. Jekyll and Mister Hyde. Pretty much as soon as the sun went down, they had a seizure, transformed. Shirou and I fought him off; turns out Yew Bow is fairly handy for speeding up whatever causes his condition to go unstable." They laced their fingers behind their head and pushed against the table, leaning back on two legs. "Had to use a Containment Seal as you're all probably aware. But Mary and I managed to throw him off the building, and I made sure his trip back through the woods wasn't a pleasant evening stroll."
"Hyde's got beef with Gabriel, or Jekyll; the two personalities clash inside, and Hyde can only last so long before he has to change back. Of course, appealing to Gabriel is probably not really possible at this point, considering Jin-Ae ripped off his ear and fed it to Arkady." They pointed at one, then the other. They then withdrew the fingers and snapped them audibly.
"Oh yeah, and their notebook. Don't think we really had time to look into it, what with the exploding hotel room and selling my soul to kick a man off the roof. You had time to flip through that, Shirou?"
The result of multiple Heroic Spirits being bound so tightly that to summon one without the other is unthinkable. Ordinarily this skill would result in the formation of multiple Servant vessels, each linked to the same Master. In this case however, the two spirits have 'fused' into the same physical form - invalidating the usual downsides and upsides of this phenomenon. Even more unusually, both operating spirits belong to a different class.
Shirou winced at the mention of Jin-ae's 'interrogation' but let it lie, at least for now. Instead his eyes lingered on Bertrice a fraction too long, fighting to keep his face from falling at the sight of what the Archer card had done to them. He raised a hand in acknowledgement.
"Thank you for reminding me Bertrice, yes." He patted his side, finding the small notebook in his pocket and opening it on the angled podium surface. "Nothing so immediately useful and damning as a diary of all his most intimate thoughts and close-kept secrets about the Black faction, but there is one strange thing. It seems like in what time he had in control, Jekyll or Gabriel was surveying the town and noting what he judged to be strange anomalies. The most recent entry -half-finished, I assume the one he was making when you found him- is an observation that a long-dried-up river to the northeast is beginning to flow again. Flipping back through the logs shows a similar pattern of observations - he was tracking some kind of phenomena that was, or is, renewing the Engelburg region."
"Rider is Karna, albeit twisted and immensely powerful. My own Class Card is Hassan-i-Sabah, the original if I am not mistaken. Both revelations have their...own problems," he says, "There is some relation between Karna and Edward's own servant. More worryingly, there is something wrong with the town. Karna did not reveal what, but this place is Different somehow, and there is more going on here than the grail war.
We burned down a hotel but all things considered that seems to be about par for last night."
A powerful insight skill born from Karna's youthful struggles to obtain the recognition he was owed, a sharply discerning eye developed out of spite for those who were so wilfully blind to his quality. Especially effective against those bearing some sort of high status, it has been corrupted by Karna's hatred and spite - when he looks at someone, he now sees nothing but the most suitable fuel for mockery and disdain.
Shirou's expression grew grim.
"Yes, if Edward's Card is Duryodhana and Rider of Black is Karna, 'some relation' is putting it mildly," he said. "Moreover Karna seems to have confirmed the phenomena that Jekyll was investigating, at least in part. The strange part is why. Going by Huh's report from the local spirits I might have suggested this to be the Black faction's long-term goal, somehow feeding the Grail's energies back into the local ley lines to revitalise the area, but if so Jekyll and Karna would have no cause to be so mysterious about it. And, bluntly, the Greater Grail is capable of far more dramatic things than environmental renewal of a single Swiss town. There must be something more to this."
"...surprisingly heavy." She turned to the rest of the group. "She's still not feeling well after Harriet Tubman cold-clocked her. Guess she was pretty surprised since Huh'd cut her near in half. Can't say I was expecting it either, but I was focused on..." She pauses, considering. "finishing off Medusa. Got me pretty good too, I guess. Shot me with something but it didn't cause any physical damage." She shrugs. "Medusa's nearly dead and Tubman - Archer - is basically on death's door too. Doubt we'll see either of them tonight."
She shoves Huh to the side and plops down next to her. "Medusa's got some thing where she slows you down when she's got her eyes on you. If you see her, find a way to break the line of sight. Don't hesitate on killing her just because she looks like a kid," she gives pointed looks at some of the Masters she deems as soft-hearted, "she's just a monster in human flesh. We're here to do a job. Anyways, I'll be listening to the rest of the briefing. Just...need a little rest." She leans back into the cushions of the sofa, closing her eyes.
A hero from the more modern era, Tubman encountered no hostile magic in her time, and thus accrued no resistance to it.
Independent Action: A
The Archer class skill allowing one to continue operating normally without any mana supply. At this rank Tubman is able to strike out on her own for an entire week without concern.
Migraine (Revelation): A
Harriet Tubman was plagued by fits her entire life, due to a terrible head-injury in her youth that was improperly treated. She claimed to be awake and aware during her fits even while seemingly unconscious, experiencing visions and vivid dreams of God's voice encouraging her to fight on. As a Servant she will suffer occasional visions just as she did in life, rendering her helpless until the fit passes but breaking all forms of mental interference and gifting her with divine insight.
Medical Techniques: B+
Tubman served as a nurse for a time during the Civil War, treating cases of dysentary and even smallpox without so much as her government ration. Despite her constant contact with the infected she remained healthy, whispered among the soldiers to be due to God's favour. As a Servant Tubman retains her healing skills, augmented by her faith, and gains complete immunity to disease.
Shirou's lips formed a straight, grim slash but he refrained from comment. Instead he broke eye contact first, glancing back down at Jekyll's stolen notebook. "Thank you for your assessment, Mari. If she has manifested in her younger 'goddess' form then she should at least be easier to defeat when the time comes for that. However we can't simply dismiss her as a known quantity yet. With a new form comes new abilities, and we don't know what her scythe is capable of or if she still possesses Blood-Fort Andromeda in some form - that's a territory-type Noble Phantasm she possesses as an adult," he clarified. "Establishing a certain area as being her 'temple' and using it to rapidly drain anyone inside of magical energy. Just something to be aware of."
"Concern yourselves not with Saber of Black. Her sanctuary is rubble, her cloak of faith is ash, and her flesh is bruised and bleeding. Should she appear before us this night, I will end her."
Jin-ae is unchanged. There is nothing different about her, no voice that is not hers whispering in her thoughts, no alien desires clawing at her heart. She is a shaman, her family's Magecraft specialises in these matters, she has examined herself very thoroughly, she would know. Perhaps that's why she has managed to weather unleashing the first Seal so well, her experience with channeling inhuman presences into herself.
This is what she tells herself. This is what she repeats, as she dismisses the blonde streak slicing through her raven hair. Ignores the way lines of age and old scars have begun to fade and vanish. Overlooks how details like the fall of Bertrice's hair spilling over over her shoulders and the rippling of Arkady's muscles as he moves occasionally impress themselves on her perceptions.
Shirou looked at Jin-ae, much like he looked at Bertrice, much like he looked at Edward while examining him the previous night. It was a look of grim melancholy, knowing that the Masters of Red had used the Containment Seals of their own free will having been made aware of the danger but regretting it all the same. He carefully closed Jekyll's notebook, running his thumb down the leather-bound edge.
"I would like to again urge all Masters who have used a Containment Seal to exercise caution. The Heroic Spirits contained within your cards are not to be trifled with, and with still so much ground yet to win before us I worry about the rate at which they have been used. Which is why I am officially banning the use of Containment Seals for the night. We have bloodied the enemy's nose with the destruction of Saber's base - now is the time to take safety in numbers, let the enemy come to us and attempt to level the playing field. No more splitting up and leaving yourselves vulnerable, caught between burning a Containment Seal or death. Additionally, Bertrice you are strictly forbidden from anything more perilous than-"
Belikova's head snapped up, her hand flying to the holster at her hip. Shirou followed a moment later, eyes wide with shock and confusion. The Masters sitting closer to the back could just faintly hear three approaching footfalls before the doors to the conference room flew open with a loud bang.
Karna strode in as if he had every right to be there, cloak of shadows billowing impossibly behind him, every inch of his tainted, armoured form as clear as day. Whether Hassan's doing in banishing the shroud, or Duryodhana's for naming him, the concealing fog was gone. All at once Mari knew that it was him she had met on the first night, remembered that he had even named himself to her as a demonstration of the shroud's power. But Karna was not concerned with most of the gathered Masters. He had eyes only for one.
"You have no business here!" Shirou called, stepping around the podium and down into the aisle. "Thanks to your Saber seizing the abbey I was forced to declare this building the War's neutral ground, and you have no right to trespass on-"
Karna walked towards Shirou in long, slow, measured strides.
"-this... place of..."
Shirou faltered. Karna almost seemed to slow down, to savour the fear that flickered across the fake priest's face. Belikova stood frozen, unsure how she could possibly intervene. Shirou made no move to draw Black Keys or defend himself. They both knew full well what Karna was capable of.
"... sanctuary," Shirou finished, concealing a nervous gulp as Karna came to a stop, almost nose-to-nose. The demigod's one visible eye slowly scanned Shirou up and down, finally catching on the silver cross he wore. The corner of Karna's mouth rose in a cruel smirk, amusement at some joke only he could understand. He reached up and snapped it off Shirou's neck as casually as anything, curling his hand into a fist around it and turning away. Beads of molten silver oozed out between his claws and trickled down his arm, scorching sizzling holes into the carpet where they fell like drops of boiling mercury. Karna strode to Edward's side as if the detour had never even happened, snatching the Enforcer's arm with his other hand. Before he knew what was happening Edward was being dragged out of the conference room like a misbehaving child, Karna's grip around his bicep sharp and unyielding and fever-hot.
Mary stood on the balcony of her room, looking out over the town. It looked so peaceful in the dawning light. Never mind the destruction that had taken place last night. The destruction Mary had nothing to prevent.
After treating Ali and Edward, Mary had retreated to be alone with her thoughts. Her ugly, self-depreciating thoughts. Two nights now she had fought and two nights she had been useless. For all the power Caster granted her, it seemed like she won no battles, granted no victories. But that, Mary could deal with. Harder to handle was the fact that she had failed to protect her comrades. Mary knew that she lacked a capacity for violence but she was at least good with barriers and shields. But despite her skills, twice now her comrades had been injured on her watch. The first night, Edward had been burned so badly right in front of her, and just last night she had abandoned Edward and Ali to face a foe that could easily have killed them.
(Never mind that it had been the right decision at the time. Never mind that she couldn't have know how powerful their foe at the camp grounds was. Never mind that she her skills laid in defense and she should have been waiting in a fortress for her enemies to come to her, instead of going out and searching for them. These comforting truths would only be clear to Caster and Mary wasn't installed right now, couldn't hear her voice.)
Coming to Engleburg was a mistake. Mary wasn't a magus, she wasn't meant to be in a mage's war. She was unsuited to it, could only make mistakes. And her comrades... Edward was okay, but the others? Gwen would have dealt with them easily enough, even led them. But Mary wasn't Gwen and she honestly had no idea how to handle such strange and unpleasant people.
Mary turned away from the view and sighed. She was late for the meeting and she dreaded going there. But she had to. For Milli's sake she had to.
Mary made her way to the meeting room. Taking a moment to steel herself, she quietly opened the door-
Don't hesitate on killing her just because she looks like a kid," she gives pointed looks at some of the Masters she deems as soft-hearted, "she's just a monster in human flesh.
"Hyde's got beef with Gabriel, or Jekyll; the two personalities clash inside, and Hyde can only last so long before he has to change back. Of course, appealing to Gabriel is probably not really possible at this point, considering Jin-Ae ripped off his ear and fed it to Arkady." They pointed at one, then the other. They then withdrew the fingers and snapped them audibly.
Arkady gave Bertrice the most puppy-dog expression, full-on, hard-core animal charm; all big eyes and "You know I didn't mean to, why are you upset with me". The worst part was that it was so sincere too, shy maybe but unselfconscious. Pale irises all but gleaming in the electric light, like chips of ice, shards of grey-tinged glass. Still, whatever varying degrees of guilt and shame he did feel were fairly well offset by a. yet another pleasant night with a man Arkady was increasingly suspecting might be Satan and b. three and a half plates worth of murdered breakfast and a...pot of coffee.
Just an entire pot. He'd poured milk and sugar straight into the glass pitcher hadn't bothered to fetch a cup.
To be sure his transformation from the previous morning was much less dramatic, no nifty new dye job and heterochromia sure. But no nervously gnawing forks to bite-sized pieces either. As the conversation drifted on he even lifted his hand to contribute. Contribute what? Well he'd successfully removed Assassin, allowing Jin-ae to assault the abbey and that was something.
"Well what did you distract him with?" Shirou would ask.
"...My body?"
Mnmaybe not that no, that could go without being brought up and people were already irritated with him for sleeping with Assassin once. But! But but but, he'd Installed last night too and that was worth talking about, telling people about, that within his card he contained the might if Fen-
"... sanctuary," Shirou finished, concealing a nervous gulp as Karna came to a stop, almost nose-to-nose. The demigod's one visible eye slowly scanned Shirou up and down, finally catching on the silver cross he wore. The corner of Karna's mouth rose in a cruel smirk, amusement at some joke only he could understand. He reached up and snapped it off Shirou's neck as casually as anything, curling his hand into a fist around it and turning away. Beads of molten silver oozed out between his claws and trickled down his arm, scorching sizzling holes into the carpet where they fell like drops of boiling mercury. Karna strode to Edward's side as if the detour had never even happened, snatching the Enforcer's arm with his other hand. Before he knew what was happening Edward was being dragged out of the conference room like a misbehaving child, Karna's grip around his bicep sharp and unyielding and fever-hot.
Arkady mutely watched as the Servant barged in and then started barging his way out, the Irish Magus in a black-taloned grip. His own hand still lifted. The gears in his head turning, slowly sure but turning. Cross collating his own experiences and the presented evidence, settling at last on a decisive question to determine his course of action.
"Hey Edward is this consensual?" He asked and his voice carried across the room.
The mood was subdued. The Masters of Red had won many victories the previous night, but not without cost. Many were wounded, scarred in body and soul. The night before last had been skirmishing, a mere prelude - this had been the night the war truly began. The breakfast buffet was even more robust than last time, the scent of fresh-cooked meat and egg, of hot coffee and cold juice, filling the air with a comforting aroma. Shirou stood at the podium as the first Masters began filtering in, muttering to Belikova as she seemingly tried to force him to eat or drink something. He gently waved her away at their arrival, and the Slavic psychic reluctantly withdrew to her usual place.
"Thank you all for..." he noticed Mari carrying Huh's limp form across her shoulders, hurling it into a seat beside her like a sack of grain. "... for coming this morning. Your daylight hours are a precious reprieve so long as our enemy continues to honour the rules of engagement, so I'll try to keep this brief."
Shared Soul: C
The result of multiple Heroic Spirits being bound so tightly that to summon one without the other is unthinkable. Ordinarily this skill would result in the formation of multiple Servant vessels, each linked to the same Master. In this case however, the two spirits have 'fused' into the same physical form - invalidating the usual downsides and upsides of this phenomenon. Even more unusually, both operating spirits belong to a different class.
Shirou winced at the mention of Jin-ae's 'interrogation' but let it lie, at least for now. Instead his eyes lingered on Bertrice a fraction too long, fighting to keep his face from falling at the sight of what the Archer card had done to them. He raised a hand in acknowledgement.
"Thank you for reminding me Bertrice, yes." He patted his side, finding the small notebook in his pocket and opening it on the angled podium surface. "Nothing so immediately useful and damning as a diary of all his most intimate thoughts and close-kept secrets about the Black faction, but there is one strange thing. It seems like in what time he had in control, Jekyll or Gabriel was surveying the town and noting what he judged to be strange anomalies. The most recent entry -half-finished, I assume the one he was making when you found him- is an observation that a long-dried-up river to the northeast is beginning to flow again. Flipping back through the logs shows a similar pattern of observations - he was tracking some kind of phenomena that was, or is, renewing the Engelburg region."
Discernment of the Poor: A-
A powerful insight skill born from Karna's youthful struggles to obtain the recognition he was owed, a sharply discerning eye developed out of spite for those who were so wilfully blind to his quality. Especially effective against those bearing some sort of high status, it has been corrupted by Karna's hatred and spite - when he looks at someone, he now sees nothing but the most suitable fuel for mockery and disdain.
Shirou's expression grew grim.
"Yes, if Edward's Card is Duryodhana and Rider of Black is Karna, 'some relation' is putting it mildly," he said. "Moreover Karna seems to have confirmed the phenomena that Jekyll was investigating, at least in part. The strange part is why. Going by Huh's report from the local spirits I might have suggested this to be the Black faction's long-term goal, somehow feeding the Grail's energies back into the local ley lines to revitalise the area, but if so Jekyll and Karna would have no cause to be so mysterious about it. And, bluntly, the Greater Grail is capable of far more dramatic things than environmental renewal of a single Swiss town. There must be something more to this."
Magic Resistance: E
A hero from the more modern era, Tubman encountered no hostile magic in her time, and thus accrued no resistance to it.
Independent Action: A
The Archer class skill allowing one to continue operating normally without any mana supply. At this rank Tubman is able to strike out on her own for an entire week without concern.
Migraine (Revelation): A
Harriet Tubman was plagued by fits her entire life, due to a terrible head-injury in her youth that was improperly treated. She claimed to be awake and aware during her fits even while seemingly unconscious, experiencing visions and vivid dreams of God's voice encouraging her to fight on. As a Servant she will suffer occasional visions just as she did in life, rendering her helpless until the fit passes but breaking all forms of mental interference and gifting her with divine insight.
Medical Techniques: B+
Tubman served as a nurse for a time during the Civil War, treating cases of dysentary and even smallpox without so much as her government ration. Despite her constant contact with the infected she remained healthy, whispered among the soldiers to be due to God's favour. As a Servant Tubman retains her healing skills, augmented by her faith, and gains complete immunity to disease.
Shirou's lips formed a straight, grim slash but he refrained from comment. Instead he broke eye contact first, glancing back down at Jekyll's stolen notebook. "Thank you for your assessment, Mari. If she has manifested in her younger 'goddess' form then she should at least be easier to defeat when the time comes for that. However we can't simply dismiss her as a known quantity yet. With a new form comes new abilities, and we don't know what her scythe is capable of or if she still possesses Blood-Fort Andromeda in some form - that's a territory-type Noble Phantasm she possesses as an adult," he clarified. "Establishing a certain area as being her 'temple' and using it to rapidly drain anyone inside of magical energy. Just something to be aware of."
Shirou looked at Jin-ae, much like he looked at Bertrice, much like he looked at Edward while examining him the previous night. It was a look of grim melancholy, knowing that the Masters of Red had used the Containment Seals of their own free will having been made aware of the danger but regretting it all the same. He carefully closed Jekyll's notebook, running his thumb down the leather-bound edge.
"I would like to again urge all Masters who have used a Containment Seal to exercise caution. The Heroic Spirits contained within your cards are not to be trifled with, and with still so much ground yet to win before us I worry about the rate at which they have been used. Which is why I am officially banning the use of Containment Seals for the night. We have bloodied the enemy's nose with the destruction of Saber's base - now is the time to take safety in numbers, let the enemy come to us and attempt to level the playing field. No more splitting up and leaving yourselves vulnerable, caught between burning a Containment Seal or death. Additionally, Bertrice you are strictly forbidden from anything more perilous than-"
Belikova's head snapped up, her hand flying to the holster at her hip. Shirou followed a moment later, eyes wide with shock and confusion. The Masters sitting closer to the back could just faintly hear three approaching footfalls before the doors to the conference room flew open with a loud bang.
Karna strode in as if he had every right to be there, cloak of shadows billowing impossibly behind him, every inch of his tainted, armoured form as clear as day. Whether Hassan's doing in banishing the shroud, or Duryodhana's for naming him, the concealing fog was gone. All at once Mari knew that it was him she had met on the first night, remembered that he had even named himself to her as a demonstration of the shroud's power. But Karna was not concerned with most of the gathered Masters. He had eyes only for one.
"You have no business here!" Shirou called, stepping around the podium and down into the aisle. "Thanks to your Saber seizing the abbey I was forced to declare this building the War's neutral ground, and you have no right to trespass on-"
Karna walked towards Shirou in long, slow, measured strides.
"-this... place of..."
Shirou faltered. Karna almost seemed to slow down, to savour the fear that flickered across the fake priest's face. Belikova stood frozen, unsure how she could possibly intervene. Shirou made no move to draw Black Keys or defend himself. They both knew full well what Karna was capable of.
"... sanctuary," Shirou finished, concealing a nervous gulp as Karna came to a stop, almost nose-to-nose. The demigod's one visible eye slowly scanned Shirou up and down, finally catching on the silver cross he wore. The corner of Karna's mouth rose in a cruel smirk, amusement at some joke only he could understand. He reached up and snapped it off Shirou's neck as casually as anything, curling his hand into a fist around it and turning away. Beads of molten silver oozed out between his claws and trickled down his arm, scorching sizzling holes into the carpet where they fell like drops of boiling mercury. Karna strode to Edward's side as if the detour had never even happened, snatching the Enforcer's arm with his other hand. Before he knew what was happening Edward was being dragged out of the conference room like a misbehaving child, Karna's grip around his bicep sharp and unyielding and fever-hot.
It was uncharitable of him to be in a bad mood when he got out of bed to head down to the meeting room for breakfast and to consolidate their information. He had been healed as best as he could be, Shirou would speak with him about his concerns once things were settled, and they'd all survived the night, even dealing serious damage to the other team. That didn't stop him from grimacing as his limbs ached while he walked, nor did it stop him wincing as his right arm bumped against a wall. It wasn't broken, but it was tender, and that was almost as annoying. Still, there was nothing he could do about it, and so he tried to keep his expression as upbeat as he could.
Then he passed a mirror and grimaced. No, his fake smile this morning looked like he'd just skinned a cat for no reason besides enjoying it. Upbeat was out, so he'd settle for neutral, which he did while steadfastly ignoring that shock of purple through his hair, that golden eye so at odds with his original.
As he entered, he gave a nod towards Ali, before starting to pile his plate high with a mix of meat and eggs and pastries. Mary wasn't there, which saddened him a little more than he was comfortable with, but...she was okay. He'd thank her later. As the discussion turned to the enemy, he took a chance in a lull in conversation to speak up and share what he knew. When it came to Servants, there wasn't much to add, but that hotel room still had held some secrets.
"Mary and I found a forward base for one of the Masters, I think. All the Mystic Codes were guns, lots of different kinds, I think rigged to shoot anyone that entered. Mary managed to get us in without tripping any wards, and we found a diary too. One of them seems to be a mercenary, in it for money. They hadn't written anything in it for the last two weeks though. Not sure how much use it'll be, but I destroyed the guns at least. As for the ammo, I was kind of hoping that Arkady could sort that out."
Once his part had been said, he was content enough to listen. The ban on Containment Seals was reasonable, as was the decision to exercise their strength in numbers. Already he'd let his thoughts of how to fortify their position wander while he ate a particularly crispy piece of bacon, before those footfalls made him look up. Not Mary's. His curiosity was answered a moment later, and his mouth suddenly felt dry as he looked at the form of the man who had nearly killed him the night before, striding into their neutral ground like he owned the place. For a moment, he was gripped with a multitude of emotion, though that love from last night was all but gone. Fear, anger, wariness, even a little acceptance...but then he did his little trick with Shirou's cross and Edward scowled. Was it too much to ask for something to be simple? Not even breakfast was sacred?
Before he knew what was happening, Karna's clawed hand gripped him and tugged him out of his seat, and for a moment he was tempted to acquiesce. At this distance, he was dead if Karna wanted him to be. There was nothing he could do.
But, if there was nothing...
Not much to lose either. If he was going to die, nothing he said or did would change that. So he grit his teeth and planted his feet, grabbing Karna's wrist with his hand as he Reinforced it and stared right at him, mismatched eyes meeting mismatched eyes without flinching. His body was aching because of the beating this man had dealt, the woman he most wanted to see hadn't shown at all, and to top it all off a perfectly good cup of tea was languishing alone and making the tragic journey to undrinkable lukewarm swill. Pure irritation and a lack of anything to lose combined into a stunningly calm and level tone as Edward spoke.
"No. I've spent all night and most of the morning sleeping off the injuries I got from you bouncing me on the street like a basketball, so I'm tired, I'm hungry, and I'm pissed off. So either gut me right now and say goodbye to Duryodhana, or let me sit down and finish my goddamned breakfast."
Arkady mutely watched as the Servant barged in and then started barging his way out, the Irish Magus in a black-taloned grip. His own hand still lifted. The gears in his head turning, slowly sure but turning. Cross collating his own experiences and the presented evidence, settling at last on a decisive question to determine his course of action.
"Hey Edward is this consensual?" He asked and his voice carried across the room.
Arkady's voice and what he said made him smile wrly despite himself, and high on the adrenaline of what he'd already said, he figured he might as well go all out. "It will be if I get to finish that brioche. Otherwise I'd be feeling decidedly like my feelings weren't being taken into account."
The one eyed woman planted herself squarely between the enemy Servant and the door, one finger wagging in reproach while her lips curl upward in a smile.
"I am inclined to forgiveness, your birth and station being what they are, but really. To play the churl so, it brings shame upon you. And when the servant shames himself in such a way, he shames the prince he serves as well. Your prince did seek to educate you in courtesy, did he not?"
She barely pays attention to her own remarks, all her focus is on Rider of Black. On the contours and curves of his invincible armor, the pallor of his exposed flesh. Nothing exists but the legend standing before her. So secure in his invulnerability. So certain his armor, his divine gift makes him invincible to any attack.
She has humbled one such already. To humble another, to see this man's blood spilled, smell the coppery tang in the air...it would be exquisite.
"Permit me to remind you how those of quality comport themselves." The faintest of curtsies, her shoulders dipping ever so slightly. "C..Cash. I am pleasured to be in your presence."
The Archer of Red simply regarded Shirou, eye half lidded, with a shrug building on the horizon before suddenly there was an enemy servant in the room.
"Huh. Well, that throws that theory out the window." they mumbled, leaning back. "Hey, mind just flat out telling us your group's endgame? Then we don't have to go snooping around and you get to lord it over us."
They held up the last bagel that remained in the room, the others having claimed their own before.
"There's a fresh bagel in it for you." They announced. Beneath the table, one hand gripped the Archer card with enough force that it would have crushed any non-magical card.
Mari watched Karna with curiosity. He sure had lost that unflappable aura from their meeting, she supposed - a part of her wondered what had happened to have flustered him so much. The part of her that had been recovering from fighting two Servants, though, wondered what sleeping-listening passively-more would feel like. Pretty good, probably. She put a hand in her pocket, holding the card, but other than that did nothing except close her eyes again. If they needed her, despite outnumbering Karna five to one, then she'd do something then.
Ali bristles, not at Karna, though there is certainly a tension in the air when he shows himself, but at Cash. At her pretension of manners and morals after her behavior on their first night. After self admittedly ripping a potential ally's ear off for no reason. At using caste and birth as a weapon. At probably starting a fight in the middle of breakfast.
"Sit down Cash," says Ali, "Before you make things worse, again."
Arkady mutely watched as the Servant barged in and then started barging his way out, the Irish Magus in a black-taloned grip. His own hand still lifted. The gears in his head turning, slowly sure but turning. Cross collating his own experiences and the presented evidence, settling at last on a decisive question to determine his course of action.
"Hey Edward is this consensual?" He asked and his voice carried across the room.
It was hard to precisely describe the face Karna made as he whipped his head around to glare at the one who would dare make such a comment. Shock at the bare-faced cheek, anger that someone would make light of it at a time like this. Shock and confusion that... Arkady actually meant it in his own strange, naive way. It quite took the wind out of his sails. He settled with a nettled "ugh" and flicked his head away dismissively.
Not much to lose either. If he was going to die, nothing he said or did would change that. So he grit his teeth and planted his feet, grabbing Karna's wrist with his hand as he Reinforced it and stared right at him, mismatched eyes meeting mismatched eyes without flinching. His body was aching because of the beating this man had dealt, the woman he most wanted to see hadn't shown at all, and to top it all off a perfectly good cup of tea was languishing alone and making the tragic journey to undrinkable lukewarm swill. Pure irritation and a lack of anything to lose combined into a stunningly calm and level tone as Edward spoke.
"No. I've spent all night and most of the morning sleeping off the injuries I got from you bouncing me on the street like a basketball, so I'm tired, I'm hungry, and I'm pissed off. So either gut me right now and say goodbye to Duryodhana, or let me sit down and finish my goddamned breakfast."
Arkady's voice and what he said made him smile wrly despite himself, and high on the adrenaline of what he'd already said, he figured he might as well go all out. "It will be if I get to finish that brioche. Otherwise I'd be feeling decidedly like my feelings weren't being taken into account."
The one eyed woman planted herself squarely between the enemy Servant and the door, one finger wagging in reproach while her lips curl upward in a smile.
"I am inclined to forgiveness, your birth and station being what they are, but really. To play the churl so, it brings shame upon you. And when the servant shames himself in such a way, he shames the prince he serves as well. Your prince did seek to educate you in courtesy, did he not?"
She barely pays attention to her own remarks, all her focus is on Rider of Black. On the contours and curves of his invincible armor, the pallor of his exposed flesh. Nothing exists but the legend standing before her. So secure in his invulnerability. So certain his armor, his divine gift makes him invincible to any attack.
She has humbled one such already. To humble another, to see this man's blood spilled, smell the coppery tang in the air...it would be exquisite.
"Permit me to remind you how those of quality comport themselves." The faintest of curtsies, her shoulders dipping ever so slightly. "C..Cash. I am pleasured to be in your presence."
Ali bristles, not at Karna, though there is certainly a tension in the air when he shows himself, but at Cash. At her pretension of manners and morals after her behavior on their first night. After self admittedly ripping a potential ally's ear off for no reason. At using caste and birth as a weapon. At probably starting a fight in the middle of breakfast.
"Sit down Cash," says Ali, "Before you make things worse, again."
Jin-ae's... inadviseable interjection was the only thing that spared Edward the full force and fury of Karna's gaze, but that was a cold comfort. This close it was all too easy to see the glow of the Agneyastra flicker and intensify beneath the hanging black curtain of his fringe, see the temptation that crossed Karna's more visible eye as it glared at Cash. His gaze flickered between the two, Edward and Jin-ae and back to Edward again. His grip around Edward's arm was strong, strong enough to make his bones creak and click dangerously beneath the aching meat, but it wasn't on purpose. He seemed only moments from tearing Edward's arm off just to get to Cash that fraction of a second quicker.
But he mastered himself. With a heroic effort of will he reminded himself what he came for and he loosened his grip on Edward's arm, almost apologetically sliding his hand down from the now-bruised band of flesh around the bicep dotted with five pinpricks of red.
"Believe me, I have been informed how 'pleasured' you are," Karna replied at last, the corner of his mouth curling up in a cruel smirk. "I would applaud your self-restraint to not be humping my leg like a bitch in heat already, Cesare, but I suppose I don't quite look enough like your sister to light that particular fire in you."
And with that he finally released Edward's arm, half-turned, and sat down heavily in one of the empty chairs as if he had every right to be there. His cloak of shadow moved like oil, reshaping and reforming around the chair back so that it could billow unobstructed. Rider of Black tipped his chair onto the back two legs, balancing neatly on the slim metal poles as he kicked his clawed, armoured feet up onto the back of the chair in front of him, arms dangling lazily behind him. He seemed about as interested in the rest of the room as Mari.
The Archer of Red simply regarded Shirou, eye half lidded, with a shrug building on the horizon before suddenly there was an enemy servant in the room.
"Huh. Well, that throws that theory out the window." they mumbled, leaning back. "Hey, mind just flat out telling us your group's endgame? Then we don't have to go snooping around and you get to lord it over us."
They held up the last bagel that remained in the room, the others having claimed their own before.
"There's a fresh bagel in it for you." They announced. Beneath the table, one hand gripped the Archer card with enough force that it would have crushed any non-magical card.
He craned his neck and tipped his head in Arkady's direction. "You. Your bagel. Please."
And up at the podium, Shirou seemed to be frozen in place mentally shuffling through his notes like a man possessed. Belikova, conversely, just seemed offended. But as the son of Surya himself was the metaphorical 200kg gorilla in the room, he could sit where he liked.
<O-okay so we can certainly still discuss this via telepathy,> Shirou reminded everyone once he'd gotten his thoughts straight. <But we should remember to keep talking so as not to arouse suspicion. Jin-ae, don't antagonise him. Bertrice, don't antagonise him. Arkady, be yourself. Ali, what do you see? Edward, do you think he means to harm you?>
