Hereafter [Worm x Fate/Grand Order]

Chapter X: Monolith
Chapter X: Monolith

"No, stop, please!"

Her body was carried inexorably across space. I didn't even think about whether it was a good idea, I just broke into a sprint, chasing after her, the instant I realized what Lev Lainur intended.

"That's right, Olga!" he laughed. "Come, touch it! Lay your hands on your Chaldeas! Reach out and grasp the treasure you've coveted for so long!"

"Director!" I shouted after her. "Hang on!"

"No!" the Director screamed desperately. "No, no! Someone, help me! Help! I-I don't want to die here! I can't die here!"

Lev continued to cackle. "Yes! It'll be like falling into a black hole! A moment suspended in time, stretched out into eternity! An infinite, living death!"

I ran. My legs pumped. My muscles burned. My lungs took in gasps of air and let them out again. I wasn't sure how much distance I must have crossed, but the Director never seemed to get any closer.

"No one's ever praised me! No one's ever cared about me! Everyone hated me, from the very beginning!"

"Director!"

"Haha…hahaha…haha!"

The sound of Lev's laughter echoed in my ears. The Director's screams and begging drilled into my head.

I kept running. I ran and ran and ran as fast as my legs would carry me. Faster. Faster than I'd ever run before. But no matter how fast I was, I couldn't keep up. I couldn't reach her.

"No! Stop! No, no, no! Let me go! I haven't done anything, yet! I haven't accomplished anything, yet! No one's accepted me, no one's loved me! I can't die, yet!"

"Director!"

She crossed the threshold of the portal, through the event horizon of the breach that connected the cavern with the Rayshift chamber where Chaldeas spun, glowing.

She was already past the point of saving.

"Please, don't let me die!"

"Director!"

She turned to me at the last second, reaching out with her hand as though to grasp mine. The terror on her face twisted something in my gut.

"Taylor!" she shouted back. "Save me! Save me! You have to save me!"

"MARIE!"

There was too much distance between us. I could never have made it. I was only human, and I couldn't teleport or fly or run faster than a car.

But my prosthetic didn't have those limits. When I reached out with my right arm, my grasp extended, and I felt the ghostly touch of her fingers on mine —

Right as she slipped beneath Chaldeas' glowing surface, and her screams fell silent.

And with a gasp, I jerked up, heart racing, forehead drenched in cold sweat, lungs seizing as I gulped down oxygen. My right arm reached out into empty air.

I wasn't in the cavern.

What?

"Finally up, huh?" a familiar, lilting soprano asked me fondly. "And so the hero of the story awakens at last… or something like that, yes?"

I blinked. The sleek, white-paneled walls of Chaldea's medical wing, a place with which I was very familiar, finally registered in my brain, and my arm fell slowly back to my side as I turned to the person sitting next to my bed and met a perfect, smiling face.

"Da Vinci."

Calling it perfect wasn't an exaggeration. Everyone had their tastes and their preferences, but the woman looking back at me with that secretive little smile was perfect from every angle and in every conceivable sense, from the smooth, unblemished skin to the exactly balanced ratio between her eyes, nose, and lips and the little, carefully chosen imperfections that kept her from stretching into the uncanny.

I'd come to terms with my own appearance a long time ago, or more like, I'd just stopped caring about whether or not I was all that pretty, but even so, I couldn't help feeling a little jealous every time I looked at her.

"Good morning, Taylor," Da Vinci said warmly. "You pushed yourself a little farther than usual, during that Singularity, so you're the last one to wake up. The others have already gone to see Romani."

Others? My stomach squirmed.

"The Director?"

Here, Da Vinci's smile finally fell, and she sighed. "Yes, I should have expected that would be your first concern, wouldn't it? Ritsuka and Rika asked shortly after they woke up, too. I'm afraid I told them the same thing I'm going to tell you: it's complicated, and I want to wait to explain until I can explain it to everyone at once."

I scowled. "Da Vinci —"

"You can glare at me with that scary face all you want," she told me plainly, "but I'm afraid I won't budge on this one. I'd prefer if I only had to give the details about it once."

Damn it.

It wasn't like there was any way for me to threaten her, either. No Command Spells would work on her, if I had any to begin with — I checked, and wasn't surprised to see the ones I'd gained upon contracting Cúchulainn had vanished — and I wouldn't be surprised if she had some method of circumventing them anyway. Nobody knew who or what her Master was, if she even had one, so there was no way of leveraging that, either.

And I shouldn't be thinking like that. I was trying to be better than that person.

I took a deep breath.

"Just — tell me: is she alive?"

"She's not dead," Da Vinci answered cryptically.

She gave my thigh a pat.

"Come on. You should be rested enough that you don't need to worry about any weakness, so there's no reason for you to stay in that bed. The sooner you get out of it, the sooner we can go and see the others, and that means I can explain the Director's predicament for everyone."

My lips pulled into a grimace, and I flung the thin sheet covering my legs off as I swung them around and planted my feet on the floor. A shiver went down my spine; the floor was cold.

Duh, right? We were sitting in the middle of Antarctica. No matter how thorough the heating systems were in Chaldea, the floor was always going to be chilly when it was made of metal paneling.

"Your shoes are right there," Da Vinci said mildly before I could even ask.

Sure enough, they sat next to my bed, like they were waiting for me. I tugged them on quickly, did the bare minimum needed to lace them up and tie them off, and then stood, looking at Da Vinci expectantly. She sighed and shook her head.

"So impatient! Sometimes, you know, it's better to do things thoroughly instead of doing them fast."

I wasn't in the mood.

"Da Vinci…"

"Alright, alright. Come, come, let's go."

She pushed herself to her feet, and as it always did, there was a sense of complete incongruence with the fact that this larger than life figure, this legend so famous that everyone in the modern era knew her name, barely came up to my chin.

"They should be waiting for us in the Command Room," she explained.

I didn't wait for her to elaborate. The instant she told me where they were, I turned to the door of the infirmary and left, ignoring her indignant huff as I strode with quick, clipped steps down the hallways. She joined me a moment later.

True to her word, Rika, Ritsuka, Mash, and Romani were all waiting together in the Command Room, chatting about something amongst themselves, with Fou perched on Mash's shoulder. The instant the doors opened to admit me, they all looked up, and their faces brightened.

"Senpai!" the twins said together. Rika gave me an energetic wave.

"Miss Taylor!" Mash echoed them.

"Taylor," said Romani, "it's good to see you awake."

"Romani," I returned the greeting. "Ritsuka, Rika, Mash. It looks like everyone made it out okay. Right?"

Romani's smile faltered. "Ah, well… About that…"

"We asked, too," Ritsuka informed me with an air of exasperation, "and, well…"

Rika crossed her arms and huffed. She side-eyed Romani with a narrowed glare. "Doctor Roman won't explain anything, either."

"Fou, fou!"

"It's not that I don't want to!" Romani hurried to explain, holding up his hands as though to ward them off. "It's just that this is really something Da Vinci understands better than I do!"

"The three of us are okay, Miss Taylor," said Mash, "and it looks like you're doing well, too."

"The Director?" I asked pointedly.

The other three immediately turned to Romani, who coughed awkwardly into one fist. "Yes, well… Now that Da Vinci is here, too, maybe she'd like to explain everything?"

We all turned expectantly to Da Vinci, who sighed.

"Good grief," she said, shaking her head. "Well, if my audience really wants to hear it, I guess I have to indulge, don't I? Very well. Do you remember what was happening at the last moment, as the Singularity was beginning to unravel and Lev Lainur appeared?"

Of course. Did she think I could forget that? That any of us could? That was the sort of thing that left scars.

Rika made a weird gesture with one hand. "Professor Lev used Force Pull!"

Ritsuka groaned.

Da Vinci's smile twitched, while Romani's took on a fond edge.

"Yes, of course," Da Vinci continued smoothly. "Lev was using a form of telekinesis — although, strictly speaking, actual telekinesis is a different thing entirely from a mystery of remote locomotive manipulation like he was using — to draw Director Animusphere into Chaldeas itself. An unpleasant ending, let me assure you, and one she'll thank you to have avoided. Heroically, although perhaps somewhat foolishly, the rest of you attempted to stop the Director from being sucked in, and through your efforts, managed to stall the process long enough for Romani to begin the retrieval process."

I crossed my arms impatiently, frowning.

"The point, please."

Da Vinci shook her head. "So impatient! Very well. Do you remember me pushing Romani to the side, when he was trying to tell you that the Director wouldn't survive the return trip?"

"That was you?" Ritsuka asked.

"Yes," I said shortly. I'd been too focused on the Director to make the connection, at the time, but it was obvious in hindsight.

"You recall I said I had an idea, yes?" Da Vinci asked impishly. "Well, earlier, Romani confessed to me his concerns about the Director, so I had something of an inkling about the situation. I'd had a few hours to consider the problem, by the time we were faced with confronting the issue. The solution I came up with was a bit rushed, I'll admit, but also very much inspired, if you ask me! Why, some might even call it genius!"

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, reminded myself that Lisa could get like this, too, and that only made me miss her in that moment all the more.

"Is she alive or not, Da Vinci?" I asked.

"Yes and no," Da Vinci answered cryptically. "You see, without a body to return to, the Director's consciousness would disperse, once it was Rayshifted back to Chaldea. Her soul would depart the material world and return to the cycle of reincarnation. Fortunately, Chaldea is equipped with a system that is designed for the sole purpose of capturing the pattern of a Spirit Origin and recording it for future use. That is to say, the FATE system that we use to summon Heroic Spirits from the Throne."

I blinked once, twice, as the implication started to dawn on me. "Wait, you can't mean —"

Da Vinci grinned and spread her arms wide. "Esatto! Yes, you're thinking correctly! I used the FATE system to record Director Olga Marie Animusphere to an Unregistered Spirit Origin!"

"H-hold on a second!" Romani spluttered. "The Director's a normal human being! Something like that shouldn't be possible, should it?"

"Hehe!" Da Vinci grinned smugly. "The human soul really isn't that different from a Heroic Spirit's Saint Graph. It's just a matter of magnitude and data volume. When you look at it that way, it was a trivial problem to overcome!"

"The Director's saved!" Rika cheered as she threw her arms around her brother's shoulders.

"We can get her back!" Ritsuka agreed, smiling.

Da Vinci's grin faltered. "Ah… Well…"

The beginnings of the smile tugging at my lips faded. "You can get her back, can't you?"

"O-of course!" Da Vinci said, but it didn't sound reassuring. "Naturally, I can recorporate the Director, once I have the necessary materials to build her a replacement body! H-however…"

"Oh," Mash said quietly. "With the state Chaldea is in, you don't have the materials you need."

And there, as the Bard would tell it, lied the rub.

Da Vinci sighed and gave her a sad smile. "And there you've arrived at the problem, Mash. W-well, it'll also take a little work to figure out how to move her soul out of the FATE system, but the larger problem lies in the fact that I'd have to construct her a new body from scratch, and I don't have the supplies for it, right now." She coughed, and under her breath, added, "And forgetting the fact it isn't designed for her, I don't think the Director would appreciate having to use the one we actually do have."

I swallowed around the thick disappointment in my mouth.

"How long?" I asked.

"It's hard to say for sure," Da Vinci admitted. "We might be able to gather supplies from the Singularities themselves as we go, and to begin with, this isn't something I'd like to attempt until we can fix a few more of Chaldea's systems more completely. Even without those concerns… It will be a minimum of three months, I'm afraid."

Three months. The Director was going to lose at least three months of her life.

It was better, I supposed, than dying, or worse, being sucked into Chaldeas like Lev had been trying to do to her. But I'd been in the position of waking up to find out weeks or months had passed and the world had kept on spinning without you. It wasn't an easy pill to swallow.

"Do we have to worry about degradation?" Romani asked.

Da Vinci's hair rippled as she shook her head. "There's no way to be certain, but I don't think so. FATE recorded her perfectly at the time of the Rayshift, and it's designed to hold patterns for resummoning as a sort of data backup. However, what I did is already stretching the purposes of the system, so there's no way to be absolutely certain until we bring her back."

"Degradation?" Ritsuka asked curiously.

Da Vinci turned to him. "Everything degrades with time, Ritsuka," she said patiently. "Unfortunately, this includes the human soul. Think of it sort of like the aging process — the longer you live, the more your soul is weathered. It's not something you'd normally notice on the scale of a human lifespan. In the Director's case, without a body to age, it would normally be a much bigger concern, but this entire situation is abnormal, no matter how you slice it."

Rika gasped. "Is the Director going to be an old woman next time we see her?"

"Even in the worst case scenario, nothing that extreme," Da Vinci answered with a slight smile. She turned back to Romani. "In any case, Romani, there's nothing we can do about it, either way. At this point, we just have to hope for the best."

"You can't use the body we already have?" I asked.

Da Vinci's expression froze. "Ah… You heard that, did you?"

"Can't you?" I pressed.

Da Vinci refused to meet my eyes. "Ah, well… No, the thing is…" She gave me an awkward smile. "The replacement body we currently have is… not so much a replacement body so much as it is…" She coughed into her hand, and then quietly admitted: "I'm using it as my Master."

None of us quite knew how to take that. Romani blurted, "You can do that?"

"Of course I can!" Da Vinci said with exaggerated brightness. "After all, I'm a genius!"

"So?" I said shortly. "Stick Marie inside it, make her your Master. I don't understand the problem with that."

Da Vinci sighed. "It's not that simple, I'm afraid. Ignoring the fact that the body itself is already a poor fit for the Director, I designed it for maximum compatibility with… Well…"

She gestured down at herself.

"Still not seeing the problem."

"Do you think the Director would appreciate being stuck looking like a twelve-year-old version of me?" Da Vinci asked smartly.

No, she wouldn't. But better that than losing three months of her life, especially if the body could be tuned before or after putting her into it. Being twelve years old again would suck, but it would be better than losing all that time.

"There's also the matter of rejection to consider," Romani put in. "A 'blank' body made by someone like Da Vinci or Touko Aozaki is one thing. Even if the 'fit' isn't perfect, things will eventually adjust. A specially constructed body, however, would be like receiving a badly matched donor organ. The body and soul will reject each other."

"I didn't realize you knew so much about puppetry in magecraft, Doctor Roman," Mash commented with a hint of awe.

"Ah, well…" Romani ducked his head. "I don't really know all that much, but you can't go anywhere near the Clock Tower without hearing about that particular woman. There's a reason she was Sealed."

"Even if a miracle occurred, the Director can't be a Master, it's a part of her karma," Da Vinci added on. "So not only would she probably die in agonizing pain, but you'd lose my magnificent self, too! Wouldn't that just be awful?"

And then, with a false cheer that was entirely at odds with the grimness of her words, she said, "On the other hand, if we leave her alone, she might start to degrade as her soul withers, and the person we see once we get her settled is a shell of her former self!"

Dead silence met this statement.

I think all of us were each imagining not only how bad off things would get if we lost both of them, but also our own version of the worst case scenario, of what it would mean if the Director's soul withered away while she was waiting for a replacement body to be readied. Was she even conscious in the FATE system? I didn't think so, but the thought itself was troubling.

People had gone mad from solitary confinement lasting just a week. How horrible would it be to suffer that for three months, or even longer? The person who came out of that would be entirely different from the Director Olga Marie Animusphere who had gone in.

That thought troubled me the most. All the more so because I couldn't do anything about it.

"What now?" I asked, changing the subject.

The entire group turned to me. Romani grimaced. "Now, we get Chaldea back on its feet," he said.

I shook my head. "I meant about the Singularities. Singularity. Now that we fixed it, have things gone back to normal?"

"Hey, yeah!" Rika said brightly. "That place being so weird was the problem, right? So everything should be better again, right?"

Romani and Da Vinci shared a dark, complicated look, and Romani beckoned us over to what must have been the terminal he'd been using to contact us during our Rayshift to Fuyuki. The rest of the Command Room was so busy that no one even bothered to look up at us.

"I think you four need to see this."

Rika turned to Ritsuka, who shrugged, and I pretended I didn't see them when they turned to me instead, like I had any better an idea of what he meant. Together, we crowded around him, looking at the screen as he opened what could only have been a recorded video file. An instant later —

"That's…!" Rika gasped.

"Professor Lev," Mash murmured.

"Are you still watching, Romani Archaman?" the man on screen asked, grinning at the 'camera.' Static clung to the edges, like the connection was wavering even as he spoke. "Of course you are. I helped to build some of the systems that you are even now using to observe this altered spacetime. I must commend you, you and that ridiculous Servant you have with you. You managed to retrieve that whole pathetic lot before they could be killed. Then, as one who happened to be a colleague of yours, allow me to reintroduce myself."

He slung one arm across his abdomen and one arm over the small of his back and bent at the waist. A bow.

"My name is Lev Lainur Flauros. I was the one charged with the year 2015 and disposing of you humans. There is no path forward available to you, now. Both Chaldea and mankind are finished. Yes — the moment of the human race's destruction is now at hand."

He smirked, staring menacingly at us as though he could see us through the screen.

"This is the end. Your future has already been incinerated. That is the meaning behind why Chaldeas has turned red. It is not that you have lost communication with the outside world. It is that the outside world no longer exists. Chaldea, protected by Chaldeas and its magnetic field, is truly humanity's last bastion, and even you will disappear in due time. The instant the year reaches 2017, you will be erased, just like everyone and everything else."

He spread his arms, and his smirk widened into a manic grin.

"You have already lost, Romani Archaman! Mankind was destroyed neither by its own hubris nor by its own inability to advance! You did not die to infighting or to ceaseless war! You were obliterated because you lost the grace of our King! You were killed by incompetence and your own foolishness! And like the worthless trash you are, you will all be burned away!"

And then, with a flash of light, he vanished. The screen flashed "CONNECTION LOST" a second later, and an unsettled silence stretched on for a few seconds after the video ended.

"Professor Lev," Mash muttered sadly, "all this time…"

Fou licked at her cheek as though to cheer her up. I leaned over Romani's shoulder, watching the screen more closely.

"Play it again," I told him.

Romani looked at me, and then to what I had to imagine was Da Vinci, but played the video again.

"…name is Lev Lainur Flauros. I was the one charged with the year 2015…"

"Stop. Go back a few seconds."

Romani rewound the video, just like I'd asked.

"…Lev Lainur Flauros…"

Flauros. That stuck out to me. The primers and crash courses I'd been given over the last two years had covered a lot of topics, but of the high level Heroic Spirits that had featured, there were a few in particular who had gotten a lot of attention.

Flauros. If that was who I was thinking it was…

"Keep going."

The video played on, going through the whole speech, until —

"You were obliterated because you lost the grace of our King!"

"Stop."

The video stopped, right as the words "CONNECTION LOST" were about to flash across the screen again. I frowned down at it thoughtfully.

"Senpai?" Ritsuka asked.

"Did you notice something?" Romani asked.

"What does the name Flauros mean to you?" I said pointedly.

Romani's eyes went wide, and I thought I could hear Da Vinci let out a smug huff under her breath.

"It's the name of one of the seventy-two demons King Solomon was said to command with his rings," Mash answered. "It was said to be a duke of Hell whose name was recorded as part of the Ars Goetia."

"Wait," said Romani, "you don't think that has some kind of connection to this, do you?"

"Maybe not," I allowed, "but you don't think it's strange that Lev spent so much time and such a large part of his life helping to build Chaldea, only to tear it down, in the end? I mean, I'm not an expert, but a shift that huge only has a few explanations I can think of."

On Earth Bet, we'd have been talking about Master-Stranger protocols and drawing up a list of the different capes who could cause that dramatic a change or exert that level of control. But this wasn't Earth Bet, and instead of Masters in the sense of parahumans capable of twisting people's minds, here it was —

"Demonic possession, you think?" Da Vinci said approvingly. "Yes, that was one of the conclusions I had drawn, as well. I don't think the usage of the name Flauros was an accident, and there aren't many who are desperate enough for the power of a connection like that to invite the attention of a high level demon by using it without a basis."

I nodded. "Which means the king he's talking about has to be —"

"King Solomon," Romani concluded.

Well, I was actually thinking "Satan" or "Lucifer," but that was the other possibility, wasn't it? Giving it another thought, he'd said we had "lost the grace" of his king, hadn't he? Which would mean we'd had it, at some point, and the Biblical stories always told of the Devil as hating mankind essentially from the get-go. Hard to have the grace of a nigh-omnipotent being that hated your entire species and didn't have to worry about the trappings of mortal politics.

"The guy from the Bible?" Rika asked.

Romani grimaced. "Well, yes, but also no. It's said that King Solomon is the one responsible for the existence of magecraft as we understand it today. His one, true miracle was to separate magic from the gods, giving it to the common man. That's why he's called the King of Magecraft."

"Which would make him a Caster of the highest order, right?" I said.

Romani gave a grim nod. "He qualifies for the Grand station. Something as complicated as incinerating human history or throwing it off course by unpinning the staples that formed the most important turning points… Here, look at these."

His fingers flew across the keyboard, and a moment later, another image appeared on screen, a flattened globe, like the surface of the Earth had been unwrapped and laid down. Seven spots glowed brightly: one in America on the northeast coast, one in England, one in France, one in Italy, one in the middle of the ocean, and then two more in the Middle East.

"After you resolved Singularity F, seven more appeared at various points throughout history, and they vastly outclass it in terms of distortion. SHEBA found them, once we got it up and running, again," Romani explained. "We haven't resolved the exact time and location for all of them, but the first two are already pinned down."

Another couple keystrokes, and the one in France and the one in Italy were highlighted.

"They're centered around Orleans and Rome," he said. "The first is a relatively minor deviation from the year 1431 AD, near the tail end of the Hundred Years War. The second is a deviation from the year 60 AD, about halfway through the reign of Emperor Nero."

"Seven more Singularities…" I muttered.

Because of course there were. It couldn't have been as easy as just taking care of Fuyuki and everything being fixed, could it?

"Seven more?" Ritsuka asked tightly.

"This… This is a joke, right?" Rika asked, looking around with an uneasy smile. "Like, haha, let's pull one over on the last Masters, it'll be a gas? Because okay, you got us, joke's over!"

No one jumped up and laughed. Romani's face remained solemn and drawn. Rika's smile slowly cracked and fell.

"We don't have to try and handle them all at once," Da Vinci began gently.

"In fact, we shouldn't," I added.

"But this is no joke, Rika," Da Vinci went on as though I hadn't spoken. "This is very real. The world is in very real danger, and the three of you are very much the only ones who can save it."

"No." Rika shook her head wildly back and forth, and slowly, she started backing away, like Da Vinci was a dangerous animal she was trying not to spook. "No, no, no, this is crazy! I-I'm just a kid! We're just kids!"

"Rika," her brother started, but he was pale and shaken, too.

"You see it, don't you, Onii-chan?" she demanded. "This… This is insane! We already almost… We almost…"

"You almost died," I said to her bluntly, and she turned to me, wide-eyed, like she was expecting me to lunge at her and try to tear out her throat. "I almost died. Mash almost died." I paused a moment for effect. "But you didn't. You're here. Ritsuka's here. Mash is here. I'm here. We're all still alive and kicking. We made it through."

I made a show of looking around the Command Room. The observation windows were still blown out, and several places were charred or stained brown with dried blood. I swept an arm around.

"They didn't," I said simply.

She glanced where I'd gestured, stricken.

I pointed out into the Rayshift chamber, where debris still cluttered up the floor. The coffins containing our fellow Master candidates had been removed, but I think what I was trying to convey still got across.

"They almost didn't, either. In fact, a lot of them still might not. If what Lev, what Flauros said is true, then we might never get the help we need to save their lives. Do you know what the difference between them and you is, Rika?"

Slowly, she shook her head. I saw Ritsuka watching us out of the corner of my eye, his mouth falling open.

"It's not talent," I said. "Ophelia, Kirschtaria, Kadoc, they all outstripped you a dozen times over. It's not pedigree — Wodime alone was more qualified than the rest of us, if that was what mattered. It's not courage or wisdom or anything like that. You just happened to be at the right place at the right time to do the right thing."

Just like I had, that first night against Lung. And afterwards? Afterwards…

"That's what it means to save the world," I went on. "The first time, it's just luck. The second time? You have to choose it. You have to decide, I'm going to be there. I'm going to step up. I'm going to do the right thing, because if I don't, then no one else will. I'm going to be the one to do it, and I'm not going to let anything stop me."

The story of my entire career, from Lung to Bakuda to the Slaughterhouse Nine, all the way to Scion. Sometimes, the only thing that had kept me going was the sheer, bull-headed stubbornness to keep going, and the knowledge that, while my methods might have been somewhat questionable, my goals were just and righteous.

Rika shook her head, face drawn into a rictus of fear. "I'm not like you, Senpai. I'm just seventeen."

I didn't even need to think about it, because I already knew the only thing I could say to that.

"So was I."

When it all fell apart, when everything started to crack, when all the holes finally started showing —

When the world ended and it seemed like I was the only one trying to save what was left of it.

"I didn't let that stop me."

Because no one and nothing that had come after me and tried to kill me had cared that I was only fifteen, that, by Gold Morning, I was barely eighteen. Not Lung, not Bakuda, not Jack, not Coil, not Scion.

Rika looked down and refused to meet my eyes; her head fell, and her shoulders quivered as she hugged herself, as though to hold in whatever she could to keep herself from shattering into a thousand, broken pieces.

"I…"

She froze, and slowly, she extended her arm out, turning the palm downwards to stare at the stark, red marks of her Command Spells that were emblazoned so boldly on her skin. Her hand was trembling.

"It has to be us…doesn't it?" she asked in a small, quiet voice. "Mash needs us, and you need Mash."

To the other side, Ritsuka looked down at his, too, brow furrowing.

"I'm sorry," Romani told her. "If the rest of Team A was awake and in good health… But you, your brother, and Taylor are the only Masters we currently have, and we can't afford to say no to another able body, especially someone who's already proven herself capable. Not when we're already down so many people."

"In the end, we're basically forcing you," Da Vinci said solemnly. "Romani and I are aware that we're not giving you much of a choice. Even Taylor, here… This isn't exactly what she signed up for."

My lips twitched and I had to fight a wry smile. This was exactly what I'd signed up for: saving the world. Again. The circumstances might have been a bit different than I expected, but they weren't unfamiliar, either.

"Even still, we have to ask this of you," Romani went on. "Rika, Ritsuka, Taylor, can the three of you do it? Can you Rayshift to these seven Singularities, right the wrongs of history, and restore the proper course of mankind's future? Can you three, together, shoulder this impossibly heavy burden?"

"Of course," I said matter of factly.

There'd never been any other choice. Not for me.

Ritsuka looked back down at his Command Spells, and then clenched his hand into a fist. His mouth drew into a determined line.

"If it has to be me," he said, "then yes."

Rika didn't answer immediately.

"I-I don't know," she admitted at length. She looked to her brother, at his fist, at his Command Spells, and then back down to hers. "But… I-I have to try, right?"

Romani let out a long sigh and combed a hand through his hair.

"I'm sorry to put this on you three," he told us compassionately, "but hearing you say that… It makes me feel a bit better about this. For now… I think you've all earned some rest. We're going to make sure a few more systems are repaired before we even think about sending you into any of these other Singularities, so you should have about two weeks to prepare yourselves in whatever way you need."

Nobody said anything, and he blinked at us awkwardly for a few seconds, and then his face lit up with comprehension. "Oh, uh… Ahem. As Acting Director of Chaldea for the duration of Director Animusphere's incapacitance, I'm dismissing you. Officially. I'll see you later, okay?"

The group stood still a little uneasily, until Mash reached out and grabbed both twins by the hand and said, "Come on, Senpai. Let's go get something to eat!"

Rika glanced back at me one last time, and then let herself be pulled away by Mash. A moment later, they'd left the Command Room.

"Well," said Da Vinci, "there's still much to do, and there's no one more qualified to do it than me! I'll see you later, Romani!"

She turned away and strode off. I gave Romani a quick nod and a short, "Director Archaman," that did interesting things to his face, then took off after her and managed to catch up to her in the hall.

"Da Vinci, wait."

She stopped and turned back to me curiously. "Yes?"

"Are you sure?" I asked her lowly. "That there's nothing else you can do to help the Director? You couldn't recalibrate that extra body you're using? Tune it up for her?"

Da Vinci blinked at me, bewildered, and then her face broke out into a gentle smile as she chuckled to herself. "My, you and the Director were much closer than I thought, weren't you?" she said ruefully. "I'm a bit surprised. She's always been so prickly, and you always struck me as the loner type who didn't make friends easily."

"She didn't give up on me," I said by way of explanation. "I'm not giving up on her."

Da Vinci's smile grew, and she reached out to place a hand on my shoulder. My right one. I wasn't sure if there was supposed to be a message in that.

"Don't worry, Taylor. The Director is fine. Have faith, yes? She'll be back before you know it, good as new."
— o.0.O.O.0.o —​
Let me establish a few things real quick:

If it's done, release it tomorrow.

It's been done. This chapter was ready over a month ago. I'm currently about ten chapters ahead of the public release. I started writing chapter 20 on, like, Friday.

What? Why are you holding onto all of those chapters?

They're my safety net. They exist for if or when I hit a rough spot and have trouble finishing 1 chapter per week and fall behind schedule, or in case of an emergency that results in the same.

Why are you taking a break at all, then?

Because I want to ease up a little for 2 weeks, take a breath. I have two private commissions that I'd like to finish and I want to paint a cover picture for this story. Chapter 10 felt like a good place to insert that pause, and I don't want to start diminishing my buffer for something that isn't an emergency. To make it up to you guys, I'll post 11 and 12 back to back, just like I did this chapter and yesterday's OMA interlude.

If you really can't wait and absolutely have to read as far as possible right now, well, you know where you can go. Just be sure you realize pledging so close to the end of the month means you'll be charged again August 1st.
Next chapter (August 14th) — Chapter XI: Red Hound
 
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Chapter XI: Red Hound
Chapter XI: Red Hound

The first of the two weeks Romani had allotted us to rest, relax, and recuperate passed by in a flurry of activity, and I had no part in any of it.

It made me feel antsy and anxious, having to sit on the sidelines and watch our skeleton crew of less than thirty people rush about as they tried to fix as much of the damage as they could as quickly as they possibly could. I got the sense that everyone knew we couldn't solve everything in a fortnight, even if Chaldea's systems were brought back up to where they'd been before the sabotage, but everyone treated it like we would if only they managed to repair everything as soon as they possibly could.

Naturally, as the most critical of Chaldea's assets, the twins, Mash, and I were relegated to just watching. If I was asked, I would have said it was overkill, but Romani fretted about any of us so much as pulling a muscle, and when Romani fretted, he tended to go a bit overboard.

Well, it wasn't like I would have been much help even if I'd been allowed to contribute, and that rankled in its own way, because I had always been more of a fighter than a technician, and what little knowledge of electrical repair I did have was woefully inadequate to the task of fixing basically anything in Chaldea. Although if the coffee machine broke down, maybe I could be useful then. Or if a lightbulb needed changing.

There wasn't much else for me to do, in the meantime. I wanted to get up, be active, actually do something that wasn't sitting on my ass reading any one of the novels I hadn't touched before because they weren't the kind that interested me, but the fact of the matter was that there wasn't really anything else to do. Even the combat simulator Masters were trained on was down for repairs, which meant any appreciable level of practice I could've gotten was out of the question.

I'd tried looking up information on King Solomon and the Ars Goetia that listed the seventy-two demons he controlled, but the data in Chaldea's servers was either too sparse to be useful or locked behind the Director's access permissions.

Access permissions that only Olga Marie Animusphere had or could give, which meant it was a dead end until we got her back.

The only thing really left to me that might actually have been meaningful was connecting with my fellow Masters, with Ritsuka and Rika, but I was socially awkward at the best of times and everything seemed to have hit them harder than I'd expected. Neither of them seemed in the mood to talk the entire week.

Not even Rika.

It felt like living with a distant roommate, like things had been with Dad during the bad times after Mom's death. I saw them every day, and we exchanged empty pleasantries if we ever got within arm's length of each other, but they were both subdued and quiet and didn't seem to know how to talk to me or even what to say.

I wasn't much better. They seemed to be taking the thing with the Director pretty hard, and the burden of the task ahead was dragging their shoulders down, and I just didn't know how to make them feel better or cheer them up. What was I supposed to tell them? That it got easier? Telling a lie like that wouldn't help anyone. Even if I said they'd get used to it all, that probably would've been more troubling than comforting.

A full week since the resolution of Singularity F, I strode into the cafeteria, one of the few places in Chaldea that had gone relatively untouched by Lev's sabotage. As usual, Rika and Ritsuka were already awake and sitting quietly at a table together, with Mash sitting between them. She looked up at me as I stepped through the doors and offered one of her gentle, characteristic smiles.

"Good morning, Miss Taylor."

"Morning, Mash," I replied, and then to the twins, "Ritsuka, Rika."

Both of them looked over at me sluggishly, bleary-eyed and sagging, and gave a weak, mumbled, "Morning, Senpai."

And then they turned away, looking down into their mugs of what I could only assume was coffee. Dark circles rimmed Rika's eyes, and Ritsuka kept blinking slowly, like he was struggling to stay awake. Mash, sitting next to them, sighed quietly.

My lips drew into a thin line, an expression Beryl had once told me made me look like a disappointed schoolteacher, but my stomach rumbled and I retreated away from the confrontation again.

I think they needed gentle understanding, and I didn't really do gentle understanding. If push came to shove and being gentle wasn't an option anymore… Well, there was a bridge I might have to cross, but until it came to that, there wasn't much else I could do but give them space.

I picked up a tray and a plate and made my way through the morning buffet line, scooping up a helping of scrambled eggs, toast, and a few strips of bacon. There was a machine for hot water, a kind of electric kettle, but I passed it by and filled myself a mug of the brown sludge they called coffee instead.

Tea was my preference, and I actually had a good selection of breakfast teas that Marie had requisitioned for me when she found out I liked it (when she heard I had "good taste," as she put it), but since we couldn't resupply in the foreseeable future, I was trying to ration those as best I could. There was no telling how long I was going to have to make them last.

With my tray loaded down, I walked over to an empty table and took a seat, hyperconscious of exactly how sparse the entire place was. Just a few weeks ago, at this time of the morning, I wouldn't have been able to find more than a few empty places to sit, and Wodime would've been insisting I eat with the rest of the dysfunctional Team A. I would've been surrounded by noise, people, life. Now? The cafeteria that could house up to three hundred people was all but deserted, and I ate alone.

I stabbed my fork into some of my eggs and took my first bite, grimaced, then grabbed the condiments tray and added some seasoning, a little salt and some pepper.

"Relatively" was a misleading term. Chaldea had lost some one-hundred-and-eighty of its two-hundred or so staff, and that included most of the senior cooking staff. What was left was doing their best, but their best wasn't exactly gourmet, and it showed very much in how bland and uninteresting most of the meals I'd had for the last week had been.

While I chewed, I peered over at Mash and the twins, using the spot I'd chosen to surreptitiously spy on them. They had food, but it looked only half eaten, like they couldn't stomach the rest. Only Mash looked like she'd done more than nibble around the edges.

…Intervening might wind up being inevitable. If they skipped out on eating for long enough, then things would get bad when we had to start repairing the other Singularities. We couldn't afford for them to starve themselves every time something bad happened, because inevitably, a lot of bad things would.

In hindsight, Singularity F in Fuyuki had gone extraordinarily well. We technically lost the Director beforehand and afterwards (and that was a complicated bunch of tenses to explain to anyone who didn't know what had happened), but of the people who went in alive, we'd all come out unharmed, and we'd successfully repaired the Singularity. Mission accomplished, with flying colors, even.

I wasn't under any illusions that things would go that smoothly the whole way through. I'd count it a minor miracle if none of us lost at least one limb by the end of it.

My appetite suddenly soured, but I forced myself to finish my food, even if my stomach didn't want it anymore. I was going to need my energy just as much as the twins were, in the days ahead. When I was finished, I drained as much of my coffee as I could make myself drink, then stood and returned my tray.

Mash gave me a little wave on the way out of the cafeteria, but the twins didn't even seem to notice me leaving. They were still gazing down into their mugs like they could find the answers to all their problems there.

Out in the hallway, I found myself unsure of where I should go and what I should do. I felt like I should practice my magecraft, do something productive with my time, but Gandr was something I'd always done in the simulator, where I had room to fire it off and targets to aim at. When it came to the other bits of magecraft I had picked up…frankly, I hadn't had a breakthrough with my puppets in months, and Marie was the one who had supervised my training in runes.

Without her to tutor me, what was I supposed to do? Again, the simulator was the best place for training something that could get fairly destructive. I wasn't about to sit in my room and play with the literal explosives.

I sighed and ran a hand through my hair. When the only other thing left for me to do was read a bunch of novels I didn't care for…

"Guess I'll go and practice with my puppets, then."

A pivot on my heel, and I was heading back towards my room, accompanied only by the clack of my shoes on the smooth tile beneath my feet. I'd just felt the emptiness of Chaldea in the cafeteria, but out here alone as I walked the halls only drove it home all the more. The last two years, I'd seen at least a dozen people on the way to any place in the facility, no matter the time of day or where I was going.

Now, it was a veritable ghost town, and all I had were the same useless, vague regrets that I hadn't gotten to know each and every one of those who were no longer there.

A hundred and eighty people. So small compared to the billions who had perished in Gold Morning, and the billions more who had been incinerated by Flauros and his cadre of demons, and yet it felt all the more personal to have lost them than the faceless masses.

A sigh hissed out of my mouth. Lisa probably would have had something to say about that. I wasn't sure I would have appreciated the humor, just then, but I wanted her there to say it all the same.

"Fou!"

I blinked, stopped, and looked down to find that thing staring up at me, its large ears pointing straight into the air and swiveled in my direction. Its beady little eyes were locked, unblinking, on mine. I would almost call it expectant.

I didn't know what it was about this thing, but something about it had always put me on edge. It wasn't just that it was smarter than any regular animal should be, no, it couldn't have been that simple, but whatever it was that unnerved me, I couldn't put my finger on it, either. It was like an itch that I couldn't reach, a long buried instinct that told me not to trust it, not to believe it, not to show my back to it.

Like it was the most dangerous, most feral beast in the world, and if I gave it a single opening, it would rip out my throat.

Keeping my eyes on the thing, I took one step to the side and tried to go around it, but it bounded back instantly and once more placed itself in my path. Waiting. For what, I didn't know.

I took one large step to the opposite side and tried to pass it a second time, but it bounded back again and stopped in front of me. Its beady eyes pinned me, and it sat there with unnatural stillness, unblinking, without so much as a twitch of its nose or ears.

"Fou!" it declared imperiously in that high, squeaky voice.

I could have stepped over it, except that a shiver swept down my spine at the very thought. I could have picked it up and moved it, except that the skin of my hands crawled even thinking about it.

It seemed like the only thing I could do was indulge it.

"What do you want?" I asked it tersely.

It jutted its chin up into the air and walked around me, and I watched it the entire time. It stopped a few paces away and looked back over its shoulder at me.

"Fou!"

Of course. I sighed.

"Right, you want me to follow you."

"Fou!"

Taking orders from a squirrel… cat… thing, now. Imp would have been cackling like a loon.

Turning away from the path to my room, I followed behind…Fou as it started trotting down the hallway, and I wondered at my irrational response to the thing. It had never done anything to really warrant my suspicion or concern, and it was perfectly well-behaved around Mash and the twins. In fact, it had taken a shine to Ritsuka and Rika in record time, by all accounts. Even Romani and Da Vinci got pestered for pets and shoulder rides, on occasion, like it was some affectionate housecat.

So then why did I feel like it was the most dangerous thing in the whole facility?

Fou led me off past the cafeteria and further on down the hallway to the Command Room, where it came to a stop next to the door, turned back around to face me, and in that same, imperious tone, barked, "Fou!"

My lips pulled into a frown, but I opened the door and stepped through, trying to ignore the prickling of the fine hairs on the nape of my neck raising when it put my back to Fou.

Two years of this shit, I swear. Why was it only me, anyway?

Romani and Da Vinci looked up as I entered, huddled as they were over his terminal.

"Taylor," said Romani. "Good, you're here. There's a couple of things we needed to discuss with you."

"So you sent Fou?"

The little gremlin came as though summoned, and with an agility that could have gone either way, it bounded up to sit on top of Romani's terminal. Romani grimaced.

"Well, we didn't want to bring the twins in for this," he admitted.

I shifted, crossing my arms over my chest. "You didn't?"

He sighed himself, raking a hand through his hair. "They need a bit of a break," he said. "I didn't want to overwhelm them by pushing this decision off onto them, so I figured, as we're the most senior staff left, in a way, we'd handle it on our own."

"What Romani's trying to say is that he doesn't want to put them on the spot, considering the state they're in right now," Da Vinci interjected. "It's better if the three of us take the burden, yes? Romani is the Acting Director, and you're our most experienced Master. We'll shoulder the weight, for now."

I pursed my lips. As much as I didn't think we could afford to baby them forever, I didn't disagree that pushing them to take on too much too soon might be a bad idea. "What decision are we talking about?"

Romani reached over and tapped something out on his keyboard. A moment later, the image on his screen depicted the map of the world he'd shown us in the aftermath of Singularity F a little over a week ago.

"You remember what I said last week, right?"

"You've got data on two other Singularities, so far."

"France and Italy, yes," said Romani. "Well, Rome, specifically. We still haven't managed to get a higher resolution image of the other five, but these two, at least, we've got at least some idea of what they look like. Naturally, we won't be sending anyone into the others until we have a better idea of what we're looking at. For a lot of reasons, but the obvious one being that we can't confirm your existence if we don't know where and when it needs to be confirmed."

Which would mean we could unravel mid-Rayshift or simply cease to exist inside our own coffins, having never made it to our destination. Yes, I could see the problem with that.

"And?"

"We've been trying to determine which of these two we should deal with first," Da Vinci said. "As an Italian myself, I admit I'm partial to Rome. However… 60 AD was a bit of a tumultuous time for Rome. That year, Boudicca, an Iceni queen, rose up in open rebellion against the empire, so it might be a little more problematic to try handling that first."

She shrugged.

"On the other hand, it's entirely possible that the moment in history that the Singularity is trying to untether is exactly that rebellion. The deviation from the proper course of human history might simply be that Boudicca never rebelled, or even that she died before she could do it, allowing Rome to fully conquer Britain. It's also possible that Boudicca's rebellion was a success and Britain conquered Rome."

"And if that's the case, correcting it would be a lot more difficult," Romani pointed out. "Trekking across a city was one thing. Asking them to walk the breadth of the Roman Empire in search of the deviant influence is a bit much."

"As opposed to having them search the French countryside?" Da Vinci countered. "Orleans in 1431 only had one major, important event that changed the course of history, and that was the execution of Jeanne d'Arc. You want to send them on a mission that might require them to kill a girl their own age who just wanted to protect her own people?"

My stomach curled in on itself.

"Do we know that for sure?" I asked before they could get going again.

Killing Joan of Arc… That… No, that would be rough, even for me. I… I thought that I could probably do it, knowing that it would be essential to restoring our incinerated humanity, but I didn't really like what that probably said about me.

Asking the twins to do it… That might break them.

The two of them glanced at me, then shared a look, and then turned back to me.

"We simply don't know what to expect, going into any of this," Da Vinci admitted. "It's entirely possible that the deviation is some other thing utterly unrelated to either of those scenarios. It's also entirely possible that both could be true, or even that the Roman Singularity will require you to kill a victorious Boudicca in order to set things right."

"I think the one thing we should be able to expect is the presence of some form of Holy Grail," said Romani. "Frankly speaking, you'd need a miracle of that power to unmoor history from its natural position, and given that we retrieved one from Singularity F when you defeated Saber, completely independent from Fuyuki's Grail system —"

"We can expect that the one responsible for the deviation will be the one…Flauros gave a Holy Grail to," I concluded. "Just like Saber."

Romani nodded. "Theoretically, you might not even have to worry about personally correcting any mistakes. History is resilient like that. It should heal and fix itself on its own. As long as you can retrieve or destroy the Holy Grail responsible for pinning the deviation in place, the Singularity should dissolve without any other action from us."

The knot of tension in my gut slowly unraveled. So we probably wouldn't have to brutally murder the most famous saint in history who didn't have a holiday named after her.

"I think that's an incredibly optimistic outlook," Da Vinci said bluntly. "Even if all you technically need to do is remove the Holy Grail from the equation, by itself, that's going to require you wresting it from whoever has control of it. An enemy with possession of a powerful wish-granting artifact like the Holy Grail —"

"Isn't going to be one we can just flick on the nose and be done with it," I agreed. "So we should always go into a Singularity expecting a tough fight."

Romani shot Da Vinci a grimace, but held his tongue and turned to me instead.

"This is all our best guesses," he admitted. "The reality of the situation is that we just don't know anything for sure. We could be entirely wrong about everything, or we could both be some degree of right."

"We can use some simple common sense, though," Da Vinci said pointedly. "Destroying the lynchpins of history is itself an inherently violent act. At the very least, we have to assume they will also violently resist being corrected."

Romani let out a long, tired sigh and gave me a wan smile. "As you can see, we can't really agree about anything on the subject. As Acting Director while Director Animusphere is, ah, indisposed, I could make the decision unilaterally, but I figured that since you'll be the one the ground leading the twins and Mash, it's really a decision that you should be making. Cast the deciding vote, if you want to think of it that way."

Leadership. Of a small, elite team, in fact, pursuing a mission of vital importance. It was strange how unfamiliar it had become over the course of two short years. In other ways, it was like putting on an old jacket I hadn't worn in a while.

Either way, since it was apparently up to me… When the choice was between fighting a single woman with a Holy Grail and fighting a woman with a Holy Grail who had an entire empire's worth of soldiers between us and her, the answer was a fairly obvious and simple one.

"We'll handle Orleans first," I said.

Romani smiled the smile of the vindicated. "I agree. I think, considering what little we have to go on, it's the safer choice to pick at this time."

Da Vinci sighed and shook her head, smiling ruefully. "Well, I can't say I don't know when I'm outnumbered. Okay, then. Since you two have made up your minds, it's settled. We'll deal with the Orleans Singularity first."

"I'll make our preparations going forward under that assumption," said Romani. "In the meantime, Taylor, there's one other thing I wanted to handle, today."

I cocked my head to the side a little, uncertain. "One other thing?"

He nodded. "We managed to get enough systems back online to properly restore functionality to FATE, as much as we ever had, at any rate." My heart skipped a beat. "We'd like to test it and see if we can actually manage to summon someone, this time."

"You want me to try again?" I managed to ask. He shook his head.

"Not you, specifically. If we get anyone at all, I'm not sure they'll be deployed into the Orleans Singularity with you when the time comes, depending on which Heroic Spirit answers. For now, we just want to test a hunch and see if it works. We can wait to attempt a more serious summoning until you've already got boots on the ground, so to speak."

Some of the tension in my gut eased.

"Why?"

Da Vinci answered. "If this works, then the next step is to try and hook up the Holy Grail you retrieved from Singularity F to Chaldea's power grid. If we can do that, we should be able to support at least three more Servants, whereas right now, we can only support Mash and two others."

Wouldn't it be better to wait until later, then? But I could see the sense in testing to make sure summoning more later would even be possible, too.

"We're just trying to see if we even can summon a Servant?"

"That's right."

"That's fine, then. I don't see a problem with that."

"Alright." Romani leveraged himself out of his chair. "Let's go, then."

I blinked. "Now?"

"No time like the present." He turned to Da Vinci. "Could you go and get Mash and the twins? We'll meet you there."

Da Vinci grinned and offered him a sarcastic salute. "Roger that, Director Archaman!"

Romani groaned as she left. "Acting Director," he mumbled after her. "Acting. The minute we've got Director Animusphere back, I'm just the head of Medical, again."

My lips tugged to the one side. Romani was one of the few people I'd ever met who was so allergic to the idea of having power.

"Fou," Romani said, turning to look at where it had last been, "are you —"

It was gone. Romani blinked. "He must have gone after Da Vinci to get the twins. I swear, sometimes, Fou scares me with how sneaky he can be." He turned to me. "Ready?"

"As I'll ever be."

He typed a few things on his terminal — logging out, if I had to guess — and then started towards the door. I fell into step beside him and let him lead the way towards the summoning chamber. The empty halls echoed back at us in the silence.

It was only once we were out of earshot of the command room that I spoke up.

"You can't baby them forever," I told Romani quietly. "Eventually, they're going to have to make real, hard decisions, and the longer we put that off, the less prepared they're going to be for it."

"I know," Romani admitted, equally as quiet. He sounded resigned. Tired. "But if we just start dumping it on them all at once… I don't want them to break under all that pressure."

"I didn't."

He looked at me out of the corner of his eye. I expected him to say something trite, like pointing out that the twins weren't me. What he actually said killed any retort that I might have been mustering.

"I'm not so sure about that."

I didn't know what to say to that, not when my response to losing a battle against a god was, as Alec might have put it, to leak my brains out of my ears until I landed on the winning strategy, so we made the rest of the trip in silence, our footsteps clacking off the floor.

Eventually, we made it to another room behind another set of bland, white doors that slid open as we approached, and we stepped into what looked kind of like a teleporter room from either some 80s scifi show or some Tinker's attempt at making one of his own, with a strange machine mounted to the ceiling in the middle above a raised sort of circular platform. Arrayed around it were consoles and terminals for keeping track of the whole thing.

Back when Marie had first shown me the summoning room, there had been half a dozen technicians monitoring Chaldea's FATE system. Debugging, chasing down error codes, running simulations, whatever was necessary to make sure that it would be ready to go when the time came. It had all looked fairly impressive.

The summoning chamber of the current Chaldea had one man at its consoles, a single, slightly pudgy blond with glasses who looked like he hadn't slept since the sabotage. When I thought about it that way, it was entirely possible that he hadn't.

It seemed like everywhere I went, I was faced with reminders of exactly how thoroughly and tragically Chaldea had been gutted.

"Are we ready to go?" Romani asked.

The technician looked up at us, adjusted his glasses with one extended finger, and gave a slight nod. "Everything is back online. We're back up to where we were before…"

He trailed off uncomfortably.

Romani sighed. "Yeah."

An awkward silence fell, and after a moment, the technician went back to his monitors and Romani and I stepped off to the side, out of the way of the doors. Neither of us tried to strike up more conversation.

A few minutes later, the doors opened, and Da Vinci walked in, smiling brightly. "We're here!"

Rika and Ritsuka followed behind her, looking rough and exhausted, and Mash brought up the rear. It, Fou, was perched on her shoulder.

"Miss Taylor, Doctor Roman," Mash greeted us politely.

The twins startled a little when they realized we were there. "Senpai! Doctor Roman!"

"Hello, Rika, Ritsuka, Mash," Romani said kindly. "Good morning."

"A-ah, good morning!" Ritsuka stuttered. Rika tried to echo him, but she broke out into a yawn before she could get the words out.

"So!" Da Vinci clapped her hands. "Let's get this show on the road, shall we? Signor Meuniere, I realize this isn't your normal position in Chaldea, but I hope my instructions were clear enough on how this works?"

"Ah, yes, of course!" the technician, Meuniere, apparently, said.

Da Vinci turned back to us. "So! Who would like to do the honors, this time?"

"Senpai isn't doing it?" Ritsuka asked, sounding surprised.

I affected indifference. "If neither of you is up to it, I'm perfectly willing."

The twins shared a look, and in that single look, seemed to have an entire silent conversation, because after a few seconds, Rika nodded and stepped forward. "I'll do it!"

Da Vinci stepped to the side and gestured to a small dais in front of the circular summoning platform. After a moment's hesitation, Rika walked forward and climbed up onto it.

"This is going to be a little different from Taylor's attempt in Fuyuki. Ah, but first — Mash? If you would be so kind, please place your shield in the center of the summoning platform overtop the formula, would you?"

"Of course," said Mash, and in a flash of light, she had transformed back into the form of the Servant she'd taken in Fuyuki. Once again, she hefted her enormous shield like it was weightless, and she did exactly as asked and set it down so that the round base was situated at the center of the platform, and then she stepped back.

"I didn't realize Mash's shield was so important it was part of the summoning ritual, too," said Ritsuka.

"It's not supposed to be," Da Vinci answered. "After all, the summoning ritual and Chaldea's FATE system have been around for years, and yet last week was the first time Mash had successfully manifested the powers of the Servant bound to her body. However, the number of successful Servant summonings in Chaldea is less than five."

"Really?" said Ritsuka.

"Really," said Romani. "Technically, you're looking at two of them right now. No one knows what happened to the first, but Da Vinci and Mash are the only ones we managed to make work right, and even then, I'm not sure you can properly count Mash, since she's a Demi-Servant."

It made me wonder how they had intended for us Team A members to properly summon our own Servants, if the system had struggled to get just three.

"Wow."

"I have a hunch, however," Da Vinci said, grinning a grin just this side of manic. "If I'm right, then every summoning from here on should work perfectly, as long as we have the energy to support them." She stepped forward. "Meuniere, are we ready to begin?"

"Set up and ready to go, Da Vinci."

Da Vinci smiled. "Now, Rika, I want you to repeat after me."

Rika's hair bobbed as she nodded. "Got it."

"Heed my words."

"Heed my words!" Rika said loudly, thrusting her arm forward. She was almost certainly mimicking me.

"My will creates your body, and your sword creates my destiny."

"My will creates your body, and your sword creates my destiny!"

The circle beneath Mash's shield began to glow, and then the symbols seemed to lift off of the ground and into the air.

"If thou accedes to my will and reason, then answer me."

"If thou accedes to my will and reason, then answer me!"

The floating circle glowed brighter and brighter until it became hard to look at. Like some great gear lurching into motion after years and years gathering rust, a grinding noise filled the room as an unseen wind swept out from the center.

"I hereby swear —"

"— that I will embody all the good in this world and punish all evils!"

"Thou the Seventh Heaven —"

"— clad in the three great words of power!"

"Come forth from the Ring of Deterrence —"

"— Guardian of the Heavenly Scales!"

The grinding noise reached a fevered pitch. The glow of the circle became too bright to watch, and I had to shield my eyes against it to keep from being blinded. The wind rushed out, whipping back my hair — and then, just as suddenly, it all died away.

I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to blink the spots out of my vision, and slowly, I let my arm fall to look at the figure now kneeling atop Mash's shield. Red was the first thing I saw, red and black and a shock of white, and as my eyes readjusted, the rest of it slowly came into detail.

My stomach clenched as the man stood.

"Servant, Archer."

His low, deep baritone sent shivers down my spine, and as he opened cool, steely gray eyes, he smirked at the group of us.

"You've summoned me, and I've come at your request. Nice to meet you, Master."

Rika, Ritsuka, and Mash all gasped.

"You!"
— o.0.O.O.0.o —​
Guess who? Yes, this chapter title is actually a reference to Emiya as a "Dog of Alaya."

Ironically, Emiya is actually kinda sorta Rika's compatibility summon, which will make a whole lot more sense after Ritsuka makes his later on, and even more sense once you really start thinking about the twins' dynamic. But that's for later.

Chapter XII will be out tomorrow, to give them both a little space. For now, I hope you enjoyed this one.

Special thanks to everyone who has helped me out, and especially to all my Patrons who have stayed with me this far, through all the rocky moments and dry stretches. You guys are the best, and your continued support is invaluable.
If you like what you're reading and want to support me as a writer so I can pay the bills, I have a Patreon. If Patreon is too long term, I have a Ko-fi page, too. If you want to commission something from me, check out either my Deviantart post or my artist registry page for my rates. Links in my sig. Every little bit helps keep me afloat, even if you can only afford a couple dollars.
 
Chapter XII: Wrought Iron Chef
Chapter XII: Wrought Iron Chef

"I've got my eye on you!" Rika promised for the thousandth time.

Across from her, Archer — Emiya, as we'd found out his name was, and finding a Heroic Spirit whose legend wasn't in our databanks had surprised everyone, Romani most of all — let out an exasperated sigh.

"I've already told you, Master," he said tiredly. "Whatever that version of me may have done to you or against you, I have no memory of it."

I wondered if that was really true or just a lie he was telling to avoid embarrassment. In theory, Heroic Spirits were outside of time and space, beings who existed independent of past, future, or present, and so every memory they would ever or had ever had would be recorded at the moment they ascended. That was how it had been explained to me. In practice, how that worked with summonings whose events they should already know, I couldn't figure out.

But if some alternate version of me had done something I couldn't condone, like joining the Slaughterhouse Nine or whatever, I definitely would've tried to pretend I didn't know she existed.

"You say that," Rika said, and it was good to see at least a little bit of her old energy back, "but you aren't fooling me, Mister! I can see right through your dastardly plans!"

Emiya just sighed again. "Seconds?"

Rika shoved out her tray and plate. "Yes, please!"

Without comment, he piled up more food onto her plate until he'd matched her original portions, and she giggled like a bride on the morning of her wedding day as she watched. There was even a line of drool that dribbled down from one corner of her mouth, and she sucked it back in as she licked her lips. Probably the only reason she wasn't bouncing on her heels excitedly was because it would dislodge her meal. She wanted to be eating it, not wearing it.

Emiya finished with a flourish by pouring another glass of orange juice for her. "Enjoy it, Master," he said wryly. "After all, I made more than enough for you to eat it to your heart's content."

"This still doesn't mean I forgive you!" she shouted back over her shoulder as she walked as quickly as she could back to her seat. Behind her, Emiya just shook his head, an exasperated smile on his lips, and busied himself with tending the kitchen.

An extraordinary stroke of luck, it seemed, that the first Servant we'd successfully summoned turned out to be a deft hand at the stove. I still had no idea what to expect of him as a combatant — the battle simulator was still undergoing repairs, so while I could practice my Gandr, Servants were forbidden using it — but even if he was barely middling, his skill with cooking was already an incredible boon.

He wasn't what I'd been expecting, but then I hadn't really been expecting much of anything, during that test. I think I'd actually half-expected the summoning to fail, just because that was the sort of thing I was used to having happen.

Rika slid back into her chair, and immediately, she grabbed her utensils and started shoveling her food back into her mouth. You might have thought, watching her wolf it down so quickly and with such abandon, that she hadn't eaten in a week.

"So good!" Rika moaned, like she was having an altogether different experience. Ritsuka smiled fondly and shook his head.

I watched her from a little further down the table, sipping at a mug of surprisingly good coffee while I tried to think of something to say, but nothing was coming to mind.

I was supposed to increase unit cohesion, Romani had said. Well, the way he'd put it had been more like, 'open up to them so that they can trust you,' but it amounted to the same thing that my instructors had tried so hard to instill in me back when I was in the Wards. The goal of any squad leader was to have the respect of her squadmates while also being friendly and approachable enough to keep the squad from ripping itself apart.

You didn't have to be everyone's big sister, but they should at least trust you.

Admittedly, I hadn't really followed through on that. It had been more like I was racing towards a goal, and the Wards had been caught up in my wake, carried along by sheer momentum. Becoming a close knit unit, making friends, being that gentle authority all of the classes said I was supposed to be? That was something I'd never managed to figure out, and at the time, hadn't really cared to.

What would Lisa have said, at that moment? To me or one of the Undersiders, not someone she was trying to tear down?

"You know, if you keep eating like that, the first thing that's going to balloon is our food budget, followed shortly by your waistline."

"Miss Taylor!" Mash gasped.

A snort tore out of Rika's nose, and she doubled over her plate, slapping a hand across her mouth to keep from spitting out her food. Visibly, audibly, and very noticeably, she swallowed what was eating, and then rasped, "W-worth it…"

"Are you okay, Rika?" her brother asked.

"T-this is the food of the gods," Rika proclaimed hoarsely. "I won't let a single bite go to waste!"

To punctuate this, she speared another bite of her pancakes and shoved them into her mouth, chewing with large, exaggerated gnashing of her jaw. It was actually kind of gross.

"Senpai has a bit of a point though, Rika," Ritsuka said. "I know Emiya's food is really good, but you're eating way more than you usually do."

"Don't ruin this for me, Onii-chan," Rika said. "This might very well be my last meal. I'm going to enjoy every bit of it I can."

And just like that, any hope of further conversation died a swift and brutal death. I sighed into my coffee as Mash's brow furrowed with worry and Ritsuka looked down into his own mug.

There was nothing I could have said to encourage her that wouldn't have been a lie. If I was a more inspiring hero, maybe I could have told her something like, "I promise you that I'll make sure we all come back," or, "No matter what, we're all making it out of this alive," but I wasn't good with happy little lies like that. The reality was that one or all of us could be dead by dinnertime, if things went wrong or if we screwed up at any point. There were no guarantees.

How quickly our second week of downtime had passed us by.

Today was the day we began our mission into the Orleans Singularity, with the goal of correcting the deviant history and bringing it in line with the proper course of events.

Unfortunately, we still didn't have a good idea of what all that entailed. Romani and Da Vinci hadn't been able to get any higher resolution scans of the situation on the ground, so there was no way of knowing just what had caused the deviation, what that deviation even was, who or what we could expect in terms of opposition, or even whether there were still living people there.

Would it just be another burning wasteland, occupied only by Servants? I wasn't sure which I preferred: a desolate landscape bereft of people, or a thriving countryside filled with bystanders who could get caught in the crossfire. I guess the former. There was something kind of liberating in not having to worry about anything except bringing the enemy down, and that was something you didn't have when you had to think about collateral damage to a human population.

My mood soured, I stood from my seat and drained the last of my coffee, then went to return my tray and plate. Behind me, I heard Ritsuka mumble to his sister, "Good going, Rika."

Emiya arched one white eyebrow at me as I approached him, but whatever serious effect he might have been going for was ruined by the bright pink apron he was wearing, with "#1 Chef" printed on the front in bold. It had, quite obviously, been owned by someone a lot smaller with a lot brighter a personality who was also quite female.

"Here for seconds?" he asked in that rumbling baritone that had no business being quite as sexy as it was. "Or are you going to threaten me against even thinking of betraying you?"

Did he expect me to blame him? Cúchulainn had explained the concept clearly enough, I felt. The Servants of the Fuyuki Grail War had been changed, corrupted. Even Saber, the noble King Arthur, apparently hadn't been immune to the effects, such was her oppressive, malevolent presence, back in the cavern. Whatever had attacked us in that ravine might look close enough on the outside, but there was no telling exactly how messed up he'd been on the inside.

"Do I have reason to?" I asked him mildly.

He blinked, brow furrowing, because that apparently wasn't what he'd been expecting.

The best comparison I could think to make was to a Master power, the Master power, the most insidious and dangerous of them all. Heartbreaker wasn't a bad line to draw, but what my mind leapt to was the Simurgh, how she could twist you up inside without you ever realizing you'd been twisted, how she could turn your greatest pleasure into your worst agony, your best friend into your most virulent enemy, and even an ordinary man into homicidal radical.

The Hopekiller… It was an appropriate moniker.

"I've seen you at your worst," I told him as I set my tray down. He took it to be washed almost on autopilot, his hands moving as his eyes stayed locked with mine. "I've seen the oppressive tyrant King Arthur could have become. I've also seen things that make both of those pale in comparison. Walked through hell."

I felt my lips tug to one side as his eyes narrowed on me. The port where my real arm met my prosthetic was so seamless that you couldn't tell where the real deal ended and the replacement began, but the stump still ached with a phantom pain. I could even feel the twin divots in my forehead, scars that had long since healed as to be almost unnoticeable.

"Didn't come out the other side entirely intact."

He grinned. It wasn't a nice smile. "Sounds like quite a story."

One that I didn't plan on telling him anytime soon. Or ever. There was a difference between trusting him not to kill me and trusting him with my deepest, darkest secrets.

"Point is," I said, dragging the topic back, "I don't find you very threatening. And, frankly, if you wanted all of us dead? We'd already be dead."

"Ha!" the bark of laughter burst out of him, and it seemed to catch even Emiya by surprise. "Well, now. You sure are an interesting person, aren't you? It's almost a shame you aren't the one holding onto my Command Spells. A woman like you sounds like the kind of Master I'd get along with just fine."

That was what I was worried about. It was true that I didn't blame him for what his counterpart had done in Fuyuki, but if that counterpart was just all of Emiya's priorities inverted and a few of his inhibitions loosened, then what little I knew of his tactics and thinking really were the worst sort of matchup for me, because they were the best sort of matchup for me.

Emiya and Khepri probably would have gotten on like a house on fire.

I gave him an empty smile. "Sorry. I have a prior commitment with an Irish guard dog."

And then I turned and left him on that note, blinking and gaping incredulously at my back. I didn't bother returning to the twins and Mash — I still didn't quite know how to address their fears and concerns in a way that wasn't just "buckle up and move on," and my last attempt at humor had died in a fire.

I felt like a broken record repeating this over and over again in so many ways, but they needed something different than a force of personality, and force of personality was the only way I'd ever really known how to lead. From the Undersiders to the Wards and all the way up to becoming Khepri, that was all I'd ever needed, all I'd ever used, and for Earth Bet, it had worked just fine.

This wasn't Earth Bet. Ritsuka and Rika weren't my Undersiders, weren't my Wards, and weren't hardened by a world constantly on the brink, and I couldn't treat them like they were.

Strangely, I missed Glenn Chambers, just then.

I took in a deep breath and I held it, waiting until the cafeteria doors slid shut behind me before I let it out in the empty corridor. The sigh that hissed out of my mouth was positively gust-like in its intensity.

How the fuck was I supposed to do this? We, quite literally, came from two different worlds. I'd spent two years fighting, bouncing from one conflict to the next, preparing for the end of the world, and then I'd spent another two years preparing for the next world-ending catastrophe, which may or may not have pulled a stunt that made Scion's tantrum seem tame by comparison, because I still wasn't clear on whether "all of mankind" meant "all of mankind," or just this particular world's.

Before all of that, I'd had to live with the knowledge that any day, a sea monster from Hell, a walking nuclear holocaust, or HP Lovecraft's twisted vision of an angel could decide, gee, didn't the place I was living in look like it needed a good remodeling?

Rika and Ritsuka… by all appearances, had led relatively normal lives in a relatively normal world, or at least one where they never had any reason to suspect it wasn't. A life without gangs whose power was enforced by a man who transformed into a dragon or a pair of women who could make themselves thirty feet tall. A life without capes or Endbringers or doomsday scenarios.

Until now, that was.

How the fuck was I supposed to lead them through a gauntlet of seven Singularities with enemies who could do things they only recently discovered weren't limited to comic books?

"Poorly, apparently," I muttered to the air.

Mouth twisting, I stormed off, mood fouled, and I tried to keep the frothing sea of my restless frustration from boiling over. The simulator was back up, if not completely repaired; maybe it was time to see if I could finally put my puppets into action.

It wasn't the first time over the last two weeks that I'd had the thought that I might be better off doing this solo. I didn't think I would have said no to having Mash on board, not with that shield of hers being so sturdy and useful, but having it just be the two of us taking on whatever Flauros and his king could throw at us? It would have been so much easier.

But however pragmatic it was, I would've been an idiot to think it would happen. Not now, not after Fuyuki. Da Vinci and Romani might have sided with me, but Mash would pick the twins and dig in her heels, without a doubt. And a contract, especially between Master and Servant, needed the consent of both parties for it to work properly.

And that meant I couldn't just leave them here to be babysat by the staff while I went and saved the world. Again. They had to go with me, and that meant that I had to lead them.

If only I just fucking knew how.

"Oh, Taylor, there you are."

Halfway back to my room, however, I was met by one of the last people I wanted to see, just then. In my head, I imagined a release valve, and I let my anger and frustration drain out of it as I forced myself to calm down.

"Da Vinci," I greeted her as politely as I could manage, just then. "Was there something you needed?"

"In a way, it's really more like something you needed," she replied, grinning, and then she reached into some pocket or compartment that I didn't quite see and pulled out a familiar knife resting in a sheath. "Here."

My brow furrowed as I took it gingerly. "This is…"

The nanothorn dagger Defiant had given me. My lips pulled to one side in a sort of half-grin.

"Even you couldn't figure it out in the end, huh?"

But Da Vinci kept grinning.

"Oh, it certainly took me a lot longer than I was expecting it to," she said smugly. "The black box that fudges some of the internal mechanisms really was quite the frustrating conundrum, so I had to work backwards from the basic principles to figure out how to do it properly, but it was only a matter of time until I had it solved."

I blinked. Stopped. Had to go back over that in my head to make sure I heard it correctly.

"You figured out Tinkertech?"

"Well, perhaps only this specific piece of it," she admitted. "Oh! And that delightful flight pack of yours, too! Ah, I'm sorry to say, it's… Erm, it's in a few too many pieces to put back together properly."

Da Vinci offered me an apologetic smile.

Ah. So I wasn't getting that back, was I?

"You can't fix it?"

"Strictly speaking, it arrived broken," she said. "I managed to piece together the mechanism it uses for flight, but without knowing the original configuration when it was in working order, it's a bit harder to put it back together again. Oh! That reminds me. I upgraded that delightful little knife of yours."

She gestured to my nanothorn dagger.

"I fixed the maintenance issues, so it should restore itself to its default state while it's sheathed. No more tedious cleaning process!"

I blinked at her again. "You what?"

"I got the idea from a couple of myths and legends," Da Vinci explained, "spruced up a bit, of course, with more enlightened, modern sensibilities. The sheath keeps a 'blueprint' of how the dagger is supposed to look and function, and whenever that knife is sheathed, it's restored from that blueprint. Naturally, there are some limitations, but no more muss and fuss, no more maintenance!"

"That's…"

Incredible.

I looked down at my nanothorn dagger. Defiant would have given his left arm for this.

My cheek twitched.

If he still had the original, that was, and hadn't replaced it with cybernetics.

And if he hadn't been wiped out with the rest of humanity. I clutched the dagger tighter, because it might very well be the only thing left of him and Dragon, now.

"Thank you for this, Da Vinci."

She waved it off. "I'm just returning what belonged to you, now that I no longer need it."

"Still. This means a lot."

She gave me one of her rare, gentle smiles, the genuine kind that really brought out the image of the painting this body of hers was based on, like she understood exactly what I was thinking.

"I'm afraid that's all of the good news I can give you," she said. "It wasn't just returning that knife of yours that brought me to you; I was heading towards the cafeteria myself, because I need to retrieve Rika, Ritsuka, and Mash."

My heart jumped into my throat.

"Now?"

She nodded.

"Romani wants to get the briefing out of the way, so that by the time it's over, breakfast will have settled well enough that we can Rayshift you with all haste. I'm afraid the two week break is over, now."

I took a deep, steadying breath.

"I understand. I'll go get ready."

"No rush," Da Vinci told me. "The others will need time to get ready, as well, so don't feel like you have to race to your room and grab anything that might be even vaguely useful. Take your time."

She stepped around me and gave me a wave as she passed me by, walking back the way I'd come toward the cafeteria. Her footsteps on the floor echoed long after the curve of the hallway blocked her from sight.

Another short sigh huffed out of my nostrils, and dagger in hand, I continued my journey to my room until I came to a nondescript door alike to every other door in the facility, set apart only by the placard proclaiming, "TAYLOR HEBERT" above "MASTER CANDIDATE 9." The door whooshed open, and I stepped into a room much like every other residential room in Chaldea: bland white walls, bland white ceiling, fluorescent bulbs that lit everything in a stark, white light.

Like every room, it had a frankly spartan and vaguely uncomfortable looking bed, a communications console set into one wall, and a closet where I kept my clothes and my puppets. My understanding of the situation was that I could have requisitioned a space for a workshop, but I wasn't a magus by any stretch of the imagination, so I'd never seen the point.

There was also a desk with a laptop I'd requisitioned and a small sort of rack where my tea supplies were stored, but the real sign of personality was the bookcase Marie had gone out of her way to get for me. It was fairly basic and rudimentary, with copies of all my old favorites sorted neatly in no particular order, but the thing that made it special was that Marie had gotten it for me, for no other apparent reason than that I wanted one.

She'd actually apologized for not being able to find an appropriately aged antique, like that even mattered more than the fact she'd gone through the trouble of getting one at all.

I grimaced and looked away. This wasn't a time to go getting sentimental over furniture.

The first thing I pulled out was the uniform that doubled as a mystic code. Someone had tried to put me in a skirt for it, but I hadn't been amused at the suggestion that I go gallivanting through any form of combat zone in a pencil skirt and sheer hose, so pants it was. Next, I grabbed the comms device akin to the ones the twins had been wearing during Fuyuki, because I wasn't going to be caught without that again, and slipped it onto my wrist.

Last… I looked down at the puppets I'd been trying to make work for the better part of the last year, and I left them in storage.

If I was a better mage, I might not have had any issues. I'd heard there were forms of magecraft that let you split your consciousness into partitions, and each partition could perform its own set of tasks simultaneously, but I didn't have the first clue how to do that, and I just couldn't leave the things on any form of autopilot. Controlling them all manually was too strong an urge to shake off, because I was just too used to that absolute control.

Without my passenger, however, splitting my mind along a dozen or more different paths just wasn't possible.

With everything settled and ready and all my gear in place — including the newly reacquired knife now fastened to my belt — I shut the door to my closet and left my room, striding with purpose to my next stop.

I arrived at the Command Room without meeting anyone else in the hallway, and the door slid open to admit me, revealing the skeleton crew that was hard at work preparing for our next jump. Romani stood in the spot that belonged to the Director, where Marie should have been, poring over something on the tablet he held in one hand.

"Romani," I greeted him.

He looked up.

"Oh, Taylor," he said. "Good morning. You're the first one here. Did you sleep okay?"

"Well enough."

We fell into an awkward silence.

After a moment, as though to justify it, he said, "We're waiting on the others to get here. We'll go over the mission details when they do."

"Right."

We fell into another silence, and rather than try to fill it again, Romani turned back to whatever he was doing on his tablet. I didn't bother, either, and just leaned up against the massive and needlessly oversized console, settling in to wait.

It didn't help with the lingering frustration I was still carrying around, so I tried not to focus on the fact I was going to be leading two floundering newbies into what might very well be a warzone and instead think up different ways to handle the possible scenarios that might crop up in Orleans. Who we might wind up fighting, why, who might be our allies, and what to expect from the major powers in the area, at the time.

On second thought, scratch that. The longer we could avoid catching the eyes of either the French king or the British commanders, the better off things would be. My knowledge of the circumstances of the time was a bit spotty, but it wasn't called the Hundred Years Teaparty. Neither side would take kindly to interlopers in strange clothes claiming to be from the distant future, not when witchcraft was one of the accusations that had been slung against Jeanne herself.

Of course, depending on who wound up in possession of the Holy Grail or what the deviation from proper human history was, confronting or collaborating with either side might wind up being unavoidable.

At last, the door slid open again, and in walked Ritsuka, Rika, and Mash, all suited up and ready to go themselves.

"Good morning, Mash, Ritsuka, Rika," Romani greeted them warmly. "I hope you all had a good night's sleep and ate breakfast, because we're jumping right into things from here."

Ritsuka glanced around. "We're not bringing Emiya along?"

"For the time being, Emiya is staying here," Romani answered. "Our position being what it is, we'd prefer not to overstress our systems, and we're expecting Taylor to attempt a summon shortly after you arrive in Orleans. Nonetheless, he'll be on standby, so if an emergency occurs, we can send him to join you as reinforcements. If you don't have any other pressing concerns…?"

Nobody said anything. Romani nodded.

"Let's get right into the briefing, then."

He set his tablet down and turned to the console he stood in front of. His fingers danced across the touchpad keyboard, and a few seconds later, the three transparent panels that jutted up from the top of the console lit up, showing the map of the world in the center and two streams of unintelligible data on either side. A tap zoomed the map into the glowing dot planted in the middle of France.

"As I mentioned to you after Singularity F, we currently have data on seven more anomalous points in history. Of those seven, only two can be observed with high enough resolution to safely Rayshift the four of you. Since its deviation appears the mildest and its fluctuations are relatively stable, we've decided that the first Singularity we're going to have you investigate takes place in Orleans during the year 1431. With me so far?"

A round of nods answered him.

"Good." He went on, "The main goal of your expedition is to investigate the deviation itself and attempt to correct it. What exactly that means, we won't be able to say until you've figured out what's happening on the ground. However, considering the events of Singularity F, there's a distinct probability that the deviation itself is the result of a Holy Grail, which means your secondary objective should actually coincide with your first. After all, strictly speaking, unless you're the Lord Second, time travel is impossible without a Holy Grail."

"What about Rayshifting?" Ritsuka asked. "Isn't that time travel?"

"This and that are two different things," Romani said. "Rayshifting might appear similar, but it's not time travel in the conventional sense. I'd explain it further, but if I'm entirely honest, the exact mechanics of it make my head hurt, so just take my word for it, okay?"

Da Vinci chuckled quietly.

"Now," he continued, "as I said, we don't know it for certain, but it's the best guess we've got. Having said that, you can't just do one or the other, here. If you don't either retrieve or destroy the Grail, then any efforts you make in correcting the distortion are meaningless. You have to do both in order to fix the Singularity."

"Understood, Doctor Roman," said Mash.

"I'll need you to establish a summoning circle, too, using Mash's shield," Romani added. "The instant you get your bearings, I want you to set that up. Not only should Taylor attempt a summoning right away, but without it, we won't be able to send you any supplies you might need in the field. Establishing that connection is going to be your first priority."

"Why doesn't Senpai just try before we go?" Rika asked. "I mean, we got Emiya just fine, didn't we? Couldn't she try summoning here, too?"

"A couple of different reasons," Romani answered. "Primarily, it's because I want to make sure the system will work outside of Chaldea's very controlled setting, but equally as important, you're very likely to summon a Servant related to the situation. Having someone who knows the lay of the land is going to be very useful for your mission. Now, if there are no other questions…?"

The twins looked around, but no one spoke up. Romani nodded.

"Excellent. I know it's sudden and we're moving really fast, but we're going to Rayshift you immediately. We've managed to get four coffins in working order for this, so I'd like you to please head down to the Rayshift chamber now."

"This way, boys and girls," Da Vinci said, and we filed in behind her as she led us out of the Command Center and in the direction of the Rayshift Chamber.

If I'd looked back, I was sure I would have seen Romani watching us leave, brow furrowed in that sort of constipated expression he got whenever he was worried.

A few minutes later, and the massive doors to the Rayshift Chamber slid open to admit our ragtag group.

"We didn't quite manage to get everything cleaned up, but the parts that need to be clear are clear, so please bear with it, for now," Da Vinci said, and indeed, there were still marks and scars from the sabotage, still debris and fallen ceiling tiles. My eyes, on their own, searched out the spot where I had been pinned two weeks ago, waiting to die a slow death as the fire choked me, and my stomach did a funny little flip.

The intercom crackled to life, and Romani's voice called down to us. "I know I'm repeating myself, but I'm going to go over this one more time for you all. The instant you get your bearings, establish a summoning circle and try to summon another Servant. Without the convenient framework of a Holy Grail War, there's no telling what sort of enemies you might wind up facing, so you need to bring in backup immediately. If we have no other choice, we'll send Emiya as reinforcements."

I craned my neck to look up at the Command Room, but the angle was all wrong and the windows had apparently been one of the first things repaired.

"That Romani," Da Vinci chuckled lowly, amused. "He's such a mother hen, isn't he? Don't worry, everyone. It's not that he thinks you've actually forgotten, but this is the only way he knows how to say that he's really nervous about this."

If he heard her, Romani didn't respond, and the floor beneath us opened up like a series of torpedo tubes. Four cylindrical devices rose up through them, things of metal with futuristic-looking designs and panes of what looked like glass over the front. The panes slid off the tubes and rose, showing the cushioned insides big enough for a grown man and then some.

"We managed to get these four coffins in working order," Romani's voice said again. "We've already tested them, and they've got full functionality, so don't worry about it. Just step inside so we can start the process — properly, this time. Da Vinci, if you don't want to be dragged along, I suggest you leave the Rayshift Chamber."

Da Vinci grinned and waved him off. "What Romani isn't telling you is that I fixed those up myself, so there's nothing to worry about! They're as good as new!"

"So we just…climb in?" Rika asked uncertainly.

"They were designed for someone much bigger and taller than you, so there's plenty of room," Da Vinci answered. "Don't worry, they're no more crowded than a subway car in Tokyo! It's fine!"

"I'm not sure that's as reassuring as you think it is," Ritsuka mumbled, but he stepped into his a moment later anyway. Rika and Mash followed his lead, and I…

I eyed the metal tube and tried not to think of being squished into a high school locker, shut in with the muck and the grime, left to rot for over an hour. Before, when we'd been rushing to get ready to go to Singularity F, I hadn't had time to think about it.

Now…

Me and tight spaces didn't agree so much.

"Claustrophobic?" Da Vinci muttered sympathetically, so that the twins and Mash didn't hear.

"Something like that," I replied quietly.

There really wasn't anything for it, was there? I wasn't about to be beaten by a metal tube, not after everything.

The world didn't end when I stepped inside my own coffin (and didn't that sound morbid, out of context). The walls didn't close in. I wasn't crushed. Bugs and blood and shit didn't bubble up from the bottom and drown me.

Now if only I could actually convince myself none of that was going to happen.

"Good luck, everyone," Romani's voice came. "Come back alive."

The pane of glass slid back into place, and with a click, it locked. Da Vinci gave me a little smile and a wave and left, and I had to close my eyes and swallow against the panic starting to well up in my belly. I forced myself to take long, slow breaths, even as my heart pounded away in my ribcage and the world seemed to compress down to me and that tube, growing ever smaller.

It made me feel weak. Pathetic. All I'd done, all the steps I'd taken, all of the things, great and small, that I'd accomplished, and I was being brought low by a fucking piece of Tupperware.

The intercom crackled back to life and a neutral, computerized voice announced:

UNSUMMON PROGRAM START

SPIRITRON CONVERSION START

A cool sensation swept down my body, starting at the very top of my head and traveling all the way down to my fingers and toes. The glass of the coffin suddenly turned opaque, and I had to fight to keep my breathing under control so that I didn't hyperventilate right then and there.

Could they even call the whole thing off, at this stage?

I just had to hold on, hold on, hold on until it was over. Less than a minute. Thirty seconds, tops. I could do that.

RAYSHIFTING STARTING IN 3…

2…

1…

Light rushed up the coffin interior, streams of light, and the world fell away as I was pulled through a canal of stars, out into infinity. I looked out as my body was drawn along and gazed upon the cosmos, so grand, so vast, a symphony of wonder and majesty that made me feel so very small, so very humbled.

For an instant, I thought I saw something gaze back.

ALL PROCEDURES CLEARED

GRAND ORDER COMMENCING OPERATION

— o.0.O.O.0.o —​
I couldn't find a good reference for whether or not Taylor still had that knife with her at the end of Gold Morning. She has a knife, but there isn't a clear enough indication about whether or not it's the nanothorn one, so I'm just going to use some authorial fiat to say it was.

Also, even if she's gotten over large parts of her earliest traumas, Taylor still isn't fond of tight, enclosed spaces.

Special thanks to everyone who has helped me out, and especially to all my Patrons who have stayed with me this far, through all the rocky moments and dry stretches. You guys are the best, and your continued support is invaluable.
If you like what you're reading and want to support me as a writer so I can pay the bills, I have a Patreon. If Patreon is too long term, I have a Ko-fi page, too. If you want to commission something from me, check out either my Deviantart post or my artist registry page for my rates. Links in my sig. Every little bit helps keep me afloat, even if you can only afford a couple dollars.
Next week — Chapter XIII: Tyranny of the Light
 
Chapter XIII: Tyranny of the Light
Chapter XIII: Tyranny of the Light

There was a strange moment of weightless nothingness. An eternity passed in a second. A second passed in an eternity. I hung, blind, deaf, deprived of everything, including the sound of my own heartbeat, suspended between one thought and the next, completely disconnected from my own body.

I was the void, and the void was me.

And then gravity reasserted itself. I slammed feet first into the ground, staggering under the return of everything I'd been missing as light, sound, taste, touch, smell, they all returned at once. The food in my stomach threatened to violently pull itself up my throat, and I had to slap a hand over my mouth as my head spun and my thoughts were pulled in a thousand different directions.

Nearby, there were a pair of miserable groans that told me the twins had made it, too, relatively unscathed.

Fuck. If that was what Rayshifting was like normally, I was suddenly thankful that I'd been unconscious the first time it happened.

"I'm really regretting having an extra helping of Emiya's pancakes," Rika said queasily.

"I'm regretting eating any breakfast at all," Ritsuka agreed faintly.

I closed my eyes for a long moment, trying to settle my own stomach, but the disorientation from the Rayshift was proving difficult to shake off. I still didn't feel entirely there, in fact. There was a strange disconnect between my head and my body, a thinness to my thoughts, like both I and my very essence were spread out through the land around us, into the soil, the air, the trees in the near distance.

To the side, Mash let out a tired sigh. "We managed to make it here safely, Senpai, and we're all intact. Rayshift successful. I'm glad it still worked properly, now that it was an intentional Rayshift instead of the accidental one that took us to Fuyuki."

"Fou, fou!"

I blinked, trying to steady my thoughts, and looked at the little creature perched on top of Mash's shoulder.

"Fou?" Mash asked. "Did you tag along, again?"

"Fou!"

"I guess that answers the question of whether Fou can Rayshift," Ritsuka said as he walked over to Mash. He held out a hand, finger extended, and Fou nipped at him playfully.

"He must have snuck into one of our coffins." Mash reached up and gave it a scratch behind the ears. "Fortunately, that means he'll come back with us when we Rayshift out of this Singularity, so as long as we keep him safe, we shouldn't have to worry."

The world spun, swinging wildly from right to left and up to down. Rika didn't seem any more bothered than her brother as she joined him, petting Fou a little herself.

"He's a little troublemaker, isn't he?" she asked. "I guess he must really want to get out of Chaldea, too. Maybe he got a little restless, having to look at those white walls every day."

"Maybe." Mash's smile disappeared as she looked over my way, and her brow furrowed with worry. "Miss Taylor? Are you okay?"

"F-fine," I managed to say, but my lips felt weird saying it. I tried to stand up straight, but I almost pitched over sideways before I caught myself.

"Senpai!"

"Miss Taylor!"

Naturally, the others didn't take me at my word, and they rushed over, fussing over me, just close enough that they could catch me if I fell.

"Is something wrong?" Rika asked.

"Maybe she's having a reaction to the Rayshift," Ritsuka suggested.

"She was fine in Fuyuki!" Rika said.

"We don't know how she was when she arrived," Mash pointed out. "After all, we didn't see her immediately after we landed. She might have been like this last time, too."

"Is there anything we can do?"

Mash's helpless grimace wasn't the answer she probably wanted.

"I'm…"

I closed my eyes, and the galaxy spun under my eyelids. It only made my disorientation worse.

"I…"

My head tilted and wobbled. My center of gravity was off, skewed. No, my proprioception, because I still felt like I was extended out into the world around me. I was stretched too thin, pulled in too many directions, and my body couldn't figure out how to handle that.

The twins exchanged a helpless, frightened look.

"We need to contact Doctor Roman," Mash said.

Something flitted in the periphery. I tried to follow it with my eyes and turned my head, but it was already gone, spinning around and swerving around behind me before I could find it. Whatever it was, no one else had apparently seen it.

"Right," Ritsuka agreed. "He'll know what to do."

The something flitted past again, and my head swiveled as I tried to watch it, but it was moving too fast and too erratically, and when I tried to focus my eyes on it, there was nothing there.

But there was. I knew there was. I could feel it, see it, even if my eyes couldn't quite pick it out. It flitted past again, and I caught it out of the corner of my vision as it moved past me again. Whatever it was, it was fast.

"I need to establish a summoning circle," Mash said. "But — oh, we need to find a ley line for that, don't we?"

"I don't think Senpai's up for walking," said Rika.

"There has to be somewhere we can put her while we look. Maybe if one of us stays behind?"

"That's no good, Master. What if you get attacked while I'm away? There's no one to protect you, and Miss Taylor isn't in any shape to help."

If I just waited a moment, waited for it to pass by, I should be able to — there.

My hand whipped out, lightning fast, and closed around the something I'd been seeing. The others cut off and turned to me, and they watched as I twisted my wrist around, uncurled my fingers, and revealed my target.

A ladybug.

My stomach twisted.

"Miss Taylor?"

"Senpai?"

No. No, it wasn't possible. Was it?

The ladybug on my hand stayed, utterly still and completely motionless. I gave it a mental prod, both akin and not to the way I'd talked to Caster when I was his Master, and the ladybug fluttered its wings once, then returned to placidity.

"Miss Taylor? Are you okay?"

There was no way. We were almost six hundred years in the past. It was still five hundred some years too early. There was absolutely no way this could be what I thought it was. Could it?

Passenger?

There was no answer. But then, there never had been, had there? The closest thing we had ever gotten to communicating with each other was at the end, where the line between us had blurred until even I wasn't sure which of us had been in control and which was the passenger.

I relaxed my mental grip on the ladybug, and it unfurled its wings and took off now that I was no longer controlling it directly. I watched it go, first with my eyes, and then when my eyes lost track, with that familiar new other sense, that extended proprioception.

"I'm more than okay, Mash."

It made sense, now, the disorientation. I was spread out into the soil and the grass and the trees — into the plethora of bugs inhabiting them, the worms and the ants and the beetles and the bees. It was just that I'd forgotten what that felt like, being just one part of a larger whole. Having a swarm to disappear into.

"I'm better than I have been in over two years."

I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, and the galaxy behind my eyelids took on new meaning now that I knew exactly what each point of light was. If I reached out, I could touch each and every single one of them, could know them down to their most intimate details, no matter how gross or weird. They were all under my control, were I merely to flex my will and command it so.

And so I took an iron grip on that galaxy, and I forced it into a familiar shape, weaving the mental position of each star and each planetoid and each and every part until I was at the very center, inevitable, inexorable, like a black hole.

When I opened my eyes again to the concerned faces of my comrades, I realized I was smiling.

Rika and Ritsuka both looked unnerved, like they hadn't seen anything like it on my face before and they weren't sure how to deal with it. At that moment, I didn't particularly care.

I'd spent two years trying to escape the trap of being a "normal" human again, and I'd just been handed a part of me I'd lost. Of course I was happy.

My legs straightened and I rolled my shoulders as I stood properly. I was still a little disoriented, but that would pass as I got used to my expanded proprioception again.

"We need to find a ley line to tap into, right?" I asked. "We need to perform that summoning as quickly as we can. There's no telling whether or not we were noticed on the way in."

Mash jolted. "R-right! Yes, Miss Taylor! U-um, give me a moment, I'll try and find a direction, at least."

I turned to the twins. "What do you two know about the Hundred Years War?"

They shared a somewhat panicked look, like a pair of students who hadn't realized there was going to be a quiz and they hadn't studied.

"Um…" said Rika.

"It's a war that lasted a hundred years?" Ritsuka ventured.

I bit back a sigh.

I had to be patient, I reminded myself. They were just kids, kids in over their heads, and they had none of the experience or the formal training I and the rest of Team A had gone through. It wasn't like I could expect a Japanese high school to teach about a complicated political quagmire in faraway France from six hundred years ago, either.

"The war itself wasn't actually fought nonstop the whole hundred years," Mash told them helpfully. "1431, the year we're in, was actually one of the lulls in the fighting. Which isn't to say there wasn't any fighting at all, only that it wasn't as intense as it was at other points of the war. It wasn't uncommon at times like these for captured knights to be ransomed back instead of kept prisoner or executed — Senpai?"

Ritsuka was no longer paying attention; something had caught his eye, and he was staring up into the sky, head tilted back and mouth slightly open. There wasn't anything I could feel with my bugs, so I looked up to see —

What?

"Something wrong, Onii — whoa."

What the fuck was that?

"Oh," Mash said faintly.

"Senpai," Ritsuka began slowly, "what is that?"

It was probably supposed to be flattering that he thought of me as so knowledgeable.

"I don't know," was the only response I could give him.

A ring of light hung in the sky, utterly massive and impossibly distant. It looked like the storm wall of a hurricane, seen from the eye of the tempest, and with how far up it was, it had to encircle the entirety of the Singularity. Outside of it was normal sky, everyday blue dotted with clouds, but inside of it was dark, like all of the light that should have been there was being sucked into the ring, repurposed into…whatever it was that ring was supposed to be doing.

Nothing good, almost certainly. It reminded me of Phir Se's attack, the one he used against Behemoth in India. Not in shape, but in scale and function. How devastating would it be if all of the energy bound up in that ring were unleashed at once?

Another thought occurred to me.

"Was this in Fuyuki, too?" I wondered.

There was no way to be sure, because the clouds had hidden the sky the entire time, but it was possible, wasn't it? Something that enormous, that high up, that was obviously not natural, so it must have been related somehow to these Singularities. Was it the cause? Or did it form the boundary of the altered spacetime, encircling everything that had been twisted out of its proper shape?

Beep-beep!

"…and we're connected!" Romani's voice said brightly. "Mash, Ritsuka, Rika, Taylor, it looks like the Rayshift succeeded without any problems, you're — is something wrong? What's everyone looking at?"

"Just a moment, Romani," I said, "I'll send you a visual."

I lifted one arm up and over my head, taking aim with the comms device on my wrist, and then pressed a button on the band, like I was streaming a video from a camera. I couldn't say I understood how it all worked or why he could get a look at our faces but needed one of us to see anything outside our immediate vicinity, but it was probably one of those limitations that the technicians understood and I just had to pretend I did.

He was observing us in an altered spacetime from six hundred years in the future. This was already pretty miraculous.

"Whoa," said Romani, eyes wide.

"Any idea what we're looking at, here?"

"Some form of magecraft cast over satellite orbit?" he guessed. "There's no record of a phenomenon like that in historical 1431, so it's definitely related to the Singularity somehow, but without a better read on it, I don't have the first clue how. In any case, it's absolutely massive. I think it's big enough to cover North America entirely."

"That's…"

Way bigger than I thought.

The Simurgh, maybe Leviathan or Behemoth, Scion, they all could have probably done something like that. Capes, though? This was way beyond them. Magi, too. Just going by what I knew, making something on that scale at that distance, there was no magus alive with the raw power needed to pull it off.

Thinking back to that fount of magical energy in Fuyuki, though…

"Do we think it's related to the Holy Grail, somehow? A sign of its manifestation?"

"It's possible, but I doubt it," said Romani. "I'm sorry, there's just not much I can tell you about it. We'll have to analyze it further from our end and see if we can't determine more about its purpose or origins."

I grimaced. Yeah, I hadn't been expecting much. It was worth a shot, at least.

"Thank you, Doctor Roman," said Mash.

Romani chuckled in that self-deprecating way of his. "It's literally my job now, so don't worry about it. Speaking of jobs, though. I hate to be pushy, but you guys should get moving. Things are safe for now, but there's no telling what attention your Rayshift might have drawn, and standing around out in the open just makes you huge targets."

"Good point," I agreed.

"There are no Servants nearby, right?" Rika asked suddenly. There was a tightness to her voice.

Ritsuka glanced at her, brow furrowed. Romani shook his head.

"The only Saint Graph I can detect within a mile of you is Mash. You're all in the clear, for now, at least as far as I can tell. Still."

"Yes," said Mash, nodding. "First, we have to find a ley line. Then, Miss Taylor will attempt to summon a Servant to assist us in this Singularity. From there, we should begin our investigation of this Singularity."

"Be careful," Romani cautioned. "I shouldn't need to tell you guys, but there's no way of knowing who or what your enemy will wind up being. Don't go picking fights you don't have to, but don't expect everyone you meet will be happy to see you."

And with that happy bit of advice delivered, his image vanished.

"So, where do we find a ley line, exactly?" Ritsuka asked.

"We're looking for a terminal, a place where magical energy converges, like we did in Fuyuki," Mash explained. "It's not always the case, but most cities are built atop at least one, because strong ley lines tend to result in prosperity for those who live atop them."

Ritsuka nodded. "So if we want to find one of these Ley Line Terminals, we have to find a city first, right?"

"We'll need to scout it out, first," I put in. "If we go rushing in without any idea of who's where, we could get mistaken for an enemy patrol by whichever side is quartered there."

Ritsuka looked at me. "Whichever side?"

"The English controlled large parts of France throughout the latter half of the Hundred Years War," said Mash. "It was only after Jeanne d'Arc helped to turn the tide and Charles VII was officially crowned that the tide began to turn and England lost some of its grip. Even at this point, however, the English still had large numbers of troops and mercenary contingents stationed in various parts of France."

"Do we have any idea where we are now?" I asked her.

Mash pursed her lips and brought up her wrist; I couldn't see the hologram clearly enough to read what must have been a map.

"The geographical map Da Vinci made for us shows that we're a few miles north of Domrémy, close to Vaucouleurs. That might be a good place to start."

Mimicking her, I brought up my own map, an exquisitely detailed thing that looked more like a picture taken by a satellite than something that had been drawn by hand, with settlements labeled in bold, stark letters and our own position denoted by a bright, red dot. Sure enough, we weren't all that far from Vaucouleurs, although it wasn't like it was just over the hill, either.

I nodded. "Then that's where we'll start."

"Based upon our current position, it should take us about an hour and a half to reach Vaucouleurs."

Ritsuka's face twisted into a tight grimace, and Rika let out a long, miserable groan. I pretended I hadn't heard it.

"We'd better get going, then."

"Senpai is a slave driver," Rika muttered.

I pretended I didn't hear that, either.

Despite their complaints and their grumblings, the twins didn't try to drag their feet when we started walking. Maybe Fuyuki had impressed upon them the severity of the situation, the true weight of the stakes we were playing for, or maybe they just didn't want to be thought of as weak or incompetent compared to the tall, skinny American girl.

Maybe the little speech I'd given them at the base of the mountain had stuck, or maybe I'd struck a chord two weeks ago. There wasn't a way for me to be sure, and I wasn't about to just come out and ask if they'd grown up between then and now.

"What do we know about Vaucouleurs?" I asked Mash as we went.

She frowned thoughtfully. "It should be French-controlled, at this point of the War. Jeanne stayed there briefly, while she was waiting to receive an audience with Charles VII. A garrison of the French levies should be stationed there."

It was tempting to think of that as "friendlies." Especially as an American, the States' somewhat biased view of English aggression made the French the "good guys" of the Hundred Years War. The reality of it was that we weren't likely to be well-received, for a lot of reasons, but mostly because the French would be suspicious of strangers showing up out of nowhere for any reason, let alone something as ludicrous as correcting historical inaccuracies.

The fact that America wouldn't exist for another three-hundred years wouldn't make convincing anyone any easier. The fact it was another five-hundred before a concept like the UN would even be imagined, let alone convened, wouldn't help, either.

We could pretend to be travelers, maybe, but it was going to be hard managing it, when we were decked out in our fancy mystic codes and carrying nothing but the clothes on our backs. Of course, the biggest problem might wind up being the one that had nothing at all to do with any of that.

"And if the deviation from proper history is that Jeanne never left home to seek out Charles VII?"

What if the English won the Hundred Years War?

Mash grimaced. "In that case, restoring events to how they were supposed to be might be much more difficult."

"It's that bad?" Ritsuka asked.

"Jeanne d'Arc almost single-handedly turned the war around for the French," I said. "If she was delayed for some reason and the English gained too much of an upperhand, or worse, if Jeanne died before she could make it to Charles VII's court…"

Would we have to take her place?

My lips twitched. Taylor Hebert, the Maid of Orleans? What a thought that was. Even if my last name had French origins, trying to say I had that strong a connection to the land of my ancestors was stretching it by a country mile, wasn't it?

"Or maybe," Mash said lowly, "Jeanne was never captured, and the only way to restore the proper course of history is to ensure she's executed."

The twins both gasped. "W-what?"

"That's a distinct possibility as well," I said with an impossible nonchalance. The agitated buzz of the local insects would have given away how much that thought bothered me, if anyone here knew to look for it.

"S-Senpai!" Rika said. "You can't mean — !"

"Our job is to correct history gone awry," I told her. "The form that takes isn't always going to be pretty or palatable."

"You want us to be murderers," Ritsuka accused me hotly.

I thought, for a second, of one of my greatest regrets, staring down an innocent toddler and knowing, knowing that I could be wrong, knowing that she might have been entirely unrelated to the prediction that Jack Slash would cause the apocalypse, knowing that there wasn't any certainty her kidnapping fit into all the predictions…

And pulling the trigger anyways, because whether it was true or not, whether she was related to the end of the world or not, it was a kinder fate than letting Jack sink his claws into her and raise her as one of his Nine.

But calling it a mercy didn't make it any less of a murder.

"We are whatever we need to be to restore humanity, Ritsuka, Rika, no matter how uncomfortable that makes us. That is what it means to be a Master of Chaldea."

"Senpai… No. Master," Mash said. "If we don't do this, then humanity itself will be erased. Everyone in the entire world will be incinerated."

"Mash…" Ritsuka said, voice raw.

I took pity on them.

"We don't know what we'll need to do, anyway," I said. "You heard Romani. The likely cause of the deviation in the first place is a Holy Grail, like the one Saber had in Fuyuki. Throwing history off course without one simply isn't possible. Retrieving that should be our first goal, and once we have it, things might return to normal on their own."

The twins…didn't seem reassured by that, exactly, but some of the tension left them. I didn't tell them that it wasn't going to be that easy, and frankly, after how many close calls we'd had in Fuyuki, they should have already known that. The fact we'd all come away uninjured didn't mean Medusa hadn't been incredibly close to killing all of us, before Cúchulainn had stepped in to lend a hand.

Talk of having to kill Jeanne had murdered the conversation, though, so we kept walking mostly in silence. The only thing I could do was hope that it wouldn't come down, at the end of it, to having to personally kill a celebrated martyr whose only crime was wanting to help her country push out an invading nation.

Some part of me hoped that our final enemy would be a living person, someone we could simply take the Grail from by force without too much trouble. Failing that, have it be a Servant, someone who was already dead and had no future to speak of. Killing a Servant might have been harder, but it would be easier on everyone's consciences.

I had a niggling dread that it wasn't going to be that clean, though. Maybe I was being a pessimist, but nothing in my career had ever been so simple and easy.

Another hour passed mostly in silence as we traversed the French countryside, with the sun shining down on our backs and the ring of light hanging above like the watchful gaze of some distant god. With nothing else to hold my attention, I found myself thinking wistfully about what a shame it was that we couldn't enjoy the simple beauty of the land around us, the lush grass, the beaten dirt road, the fields of flowers and the clear sky.

What little girl hadn't wanted to visit Paris when she grew up, if she had the chance? To see the old world in all its majesty, where so many important, historical events had occurred? Who wouldn't want to walk through and glimpse the hamlets and little villages whose buildings still hadn't quite caught up with the times, almost perfectly preserved snapshots of yesteryear, like a bee trapped in amber?

Here we were now, in a time when those places were still young and new, and we just couldn't take the time to see them, not with the threat of an unknown enemy looming in the distance.

I guess even I still had that little girl inside me somewhere.

Unprompted, Mash lifted her wrist and brought up her map again. "There's a small forest up ahead," she said quietly. "Once we've passed through it, Vaucouleurs should come into view."

"And then we get Senpai a Servant," Rika mumbled.

I swallowed.

I was still nervous. If I got someone like Cúchulainn, that would have been fine, I think. A great hero who could really lend us a hand, that would be best, both for my own sanity and for very practical reasons. Perhaps not King Arthur, now that I'd seen her dark side, but Achilles or Heracles or some other great name, any of those would work well.

Summoning an Assassin was what I dreaded.

Calling the forest we entered a forest was a bit of a misnomer. The beaten path we were walking along was broad, likely having been cleared for the purposes of troop deployments or trade routes, and the trees around us were sparser and further spaced than, say, a tropical rainforest, with far less underbrush. The only wildlife in the vicinity was mostly birds and a few small mammals, and they were all keeping far away from us.

And then, as the other end of the forest came into view, we heard it.

A roar.

We all froze. The twins shared a look, and then turned to me and Mash. "What was that?"

Another roar, clearer this time, louder. My brow furrowed, because I was sure I must have been mishearing it.

"That…"

"Senpai?"

"It doesn't match anything I've ever heard from documentaries," Mash said slowly.

Because it wouldn't, would it? I'd watched documentaries, too, heard lions, tigers, bears, all sorts of different animals yip, yowl, snarl, and growl, and they were all distinctive in their own way. You could mistake one big cat for another, but never a lion for a bear or a tiger for an elephant.

This… I'd heard this from only one thing before.

"There's no way. Not here."

"Senpai?" Rika asked nervously.

I took off at a dead sprint, racing towards the edge of the woods, and as I went, I gathered up as much of a swarm as I could, pulling them forward with me. I didn't have time to grab whatever spiders lurked in their hiding places, and my collection wound up eclectic and mostly harmless, because there just wasn't much to choose from in terms of dangerous or venomous bugs.

One nest of wasps would just have to do.

Up ahead, I was already sending whatever fliers I could into the air to try and scope things out, to try and prove my worst instinct wrong, but my hand still went to my knife, the very knife that now might be the only real weapon I had against the kind of enemy that I was definitely not prepared to be facing in mid-fifteenth century France.

I cleared the forest, and further on down the road, a small town with a fortified garrison came into view as I jolted to a sudden stop.

"Senpai!"

"Miss Taylor!"

The others came up behind me.

"Senpai, what's wrong?" Ritsuka asked. "Do you know —"

Mash gasped.

My lips pulled into a grimace, and I glared ahead at our enemy as though I could set it alight with my stare alone.

An enemy I'd fought before, from a certain point of view. Not the genuine article, but one that managed a decent enough imitation that he'd named himself after the word for it in a different language. A creature of myth and legend, the epitome of power and strength, a symbol of avarice and evil.

Once, my swarm had emasculated him. Once, I'd carved out his eyes. Once, he had burned off my ruined arm, because the alternative was to let it cripple me for the rest of the fight.

"Dragons."
— o.0.O.O.0.o —​
This is the part where people start going, "Wait! I know what you're doing now, James!" And I have to tell you, "No, I can almost guarantee you don't." This is definitely related to Taylor's first failed summoning, but not in the way or for the reason I'm sure a lot of people are going to assume. There might be further hints, but this is a long game plan that won't get revealed until the very end.

Apropos of that moment, though, with the ladybug, my editor is convinced Taylor is now a Disney princess.

Special thanks to everyone who has helped me out, and especially to all my Patrons who have stayed with me this far, through all the rocky moments and dry stretches. You guys are the best, and your continued support is invaluable.
If you like what you're reading and want to support me as a writer so I can pay the bills, I have a Patreon. If Patreon is too long term, I have a Ko-fi page, too. If you want to commission something from me, check out either my Deviantart post or my artist registry page for my rates. Links in my sig. Every little bit helps keep me afloat, even if you can only afford a couple dollars.
Next — Chapter XIV: Sinner and Saint
 
Chapter XIV: Sinner and Saint
Chapter XIV: Sinner and Saint

The dragon's roar seemed to shake the world, and answering screams came from the fort in the distance as it descended like the wrath of some terrible, pitiless god.

I broke into a run. I didn't even think about whether it was a good idea or not. All I saw was an enemy — a familiar one, one I knew how to fight and beat, one I now had the tools to beat, again.

"Senpai!"

"Miss Taylor! Wait!"

My swarm rose up, from the grass, from the trees, from every nook and cranny where they'd been hiding, waiting, living, and they took to the air ahead of me, around me, and the buzz of their wings was like a heavy drone that I felt within me as much as I heard, vibrating through my whole body and soul. Neither the dragon nor the soldiers racing back towards safety could miss them, and as the soldiers broke whatever ranks they had managed to muster to defend against the beast, the beast itself turned away from them and towards me.

I didn't waste any time. The instant it was in range, I set my swarm to harrying it. My harmless fliers, the ones that didn't have any hard offense, they honed in on its maw of sharp teeth and its nostrils. The sole nest of wasps I'd managed to collect, they focused on its eyes and swooped down, stingers ready, venom set to deploy.

My plan fell apart almost immediately.

I'd known, intellectually, that actual dragons were much different from Lung. They were existences of fantasy rather than passengers meddling, creatures that man didn't understand and so had gained a degree of power that modern weapons couldn't touch. Lung's scales, I could have cut through. Punched through with a knife or a bullet, or failing that, one of Bitch's dogs could have torn him up with their teeth. His mouth was armored, but although his biology was strange and inhuman, he himself was still just as human as any other cape. I could have drowned him in bugs, the same way I had Alexandria, if I wasn't afraid to lose twice the number to his flames.

A real dragon, it turned out, wasn't that easy to put down.

My harmless fliers came within reach of the dragon's mouth and nostrils, and the sheer power, the dense magical energy in its breath killed them immediately, overloaded their bodies until they burst, raining their guts down to the ground in a disgusting shower of yellowish viscera. The beast swung its long neck to and fro, and with every pass, anything that came within three feet of its fangs simply exploded.

The wasps didn't fare much better. They flew towards the beast's eyes, stingers out, and thrust them with all their meager strength towards the vulnerable tissue, but when the narrow points came into contact with the dragon's eyes, they skidded off, like there was some membrane as strong as iron that they just couldn't penetrate.

A dragon's entire body was Mystery. I hadn't thought much of that lesson, at the time, beyond filing away the important bit for later: Mystery could only be beaten by a stronger Mystery. It had sounded like sophistry, like some zen koan that was supposed to be incredibly insightful or a recursive argument that wound back on itself.

I was beginning to see what it meant, now. A dragon was a creature of mystery that existed in the realm of fantasy, and that meant that the only way to kill it was to have enough magical power to hurt it. My bugs, meagre existences that had so little strength on their own, either in the physical sense or the magical sense, couldn't even pierce its flesh, let alone the scales that covered it like armor. Even my wasps couldn't hope to hurt it at all.

The only thing they were good for was a distraction.

It meant I had to reorient my plan, because there was no way for me to bring this thing down by myself, not the way I had those skeletons in Fuyuki. No, of course not, what had I been thinking? Cúchulainn had said it himself — skeletons, reanimated corpses, were the lowest of the low in terms of magical beasts and familiars. Any mage worth her salt could pick them apart, as long as their numbers weren't overwhelming.

My bugs were the same way. They had always been the same way. It was just that humans could be brought down by stings and bites in ways something like this couldn't.

My thoughts raced, and as my bugs adjusted their courses to focus on its eyes — to block the dragon's vision, even if only with the sheer volume of bodies that buzzed around its head — a new plan started to form.

I wouldn't be able to do it by myself, though. I'd need some help from someone with the raw strength to hurt it. Fortunately, there was just such a person running behind me.

"Mash!" I shouted. "Bring it down!"

"W-what?" she called back.

"To the ground, Mash!"

Through my swarm, the small number of bugs I'd stuck to the rest of the team more via old habit than conscious consideration, I felt her shift as she turned to the twins.

"Master —"

"Do it, Mash!" Ritsuka ordered.

"Y-yes!"

And then, she leapt into the air, far, far too high for a human to manage, still carrying that massive shield around like it weighed nothing at all, and my bugs parted in front of her to give her a clear path to her target.

"Hiyaaah!"

The thud of her shield making contact reverberated throughout my swarm, and the dragon let out a roar that I could only interpret as pain as the edge of the bottom spoke slammed into the base of its neck, right between the wing joints. The beast spasmed, and its wings flopped helplessly as it lost the rhythm that kept it aloft. Without that, it dropped like a stone towards the ground.

I was already racing towards it as it fell, my knife in hand.

Could I kill a dragon? I didn't know. I wasn't at all sure, and I was keenly aware that this was incredibly dangerous. The better idea was to just let Mash finish it off, whack it over the head until she smashed its brains or whatever. A gross way to end the thing, but letting a dragon rampage throughout the French countryside sounded like something we weren't supposed to let happen.

But some part of me needed to know. Was I strong enough? Was my knife, hodgepodge mess of magecraft and tinkertech that it was, powerful enough to hurt it?

The dragon landing shook the ground beneath my feet, but I kept running. It wasn't far, and as long as I was fast enough…

I wasn't. The dragon remained stunned for only a few seconds, and even running full tilt, I couldn't cross the distance in enough time. It was already starting to stir.

"Mash! Keep it down!"

Mash landed atop one of its wings with a crunch, driving her heels into the joint where the bones were weakest, and as the dragon cried out, she flipped up, took hold of her shield with both hands, and slammed it down into the ground next to the dragon's neck. The left spoke came down on the beast's neck like a hammer, driving it back to the earth with another thud that left it dazed.

I didn't have time to inspect it, but as I raced towards it, in some distant, faraway place, I was surprised at how small it turned out to be. Big, still big, but not any larger than one of Bitch's dogs. I clambered astride the neck as quickly as I could, my heart thundering in my ears, took hold of my knife with both hands, and drove the tip towards the base of the skull, right at the top of the spine. A killshot.

It skidded off. The scales were just too strong.

My options ran through my mind at light speed. There weren't many. If my knife couldn't get through its tough hide and its mouth was filled with dangerous, sharp teeth and a breath that could burn the flesh off my bones, where else could I attack it? Where else would it be vulnerable?

If it worked on Lung…

The fingers of one hand wrapped around one of the horns protruding from its head as I threw myself forward and drove my knife into one of its eyes.

After a moment of resistance, the blade sank in like butter.

The beast bucked beneath me, tossing its head back, roaring, and I had to wrap my legs around its neck to keep from being thrown off. The horns threatened to skewer me, and I was keenly aware of the one jutting out past my hip that would gut me with one wrong move, but somehow, I managed to stay on.

"Miss Taylor!" Mash called.

I ignored her, twisting the nanothorn dagger in the soft tissue of the beast's eye with a savage wrench, and then my thumb flicked the switch to turn it on.

Blood spewed forth, splattering over my hand and fingers in a fine, crimson mist. My dagger sank deeper in, and the dragon's thrashing grew worse as I clung to it with all my strength, trying to keep its undulating neck from tossing me off. The hum of the nanothorns was all but unnoticeable under the noise of the beast's suffering.

Deeper and deeper my dagger went, further and further into the skull until my hand was wrist deep into its eye socket, and then, suddenly, the dragon jerked and collapsed, every part of it sagging into the dirt like a puppet whose strings had been cut. My entire torso rocked forward, and the smooth, rounded shaft of the threatening horn pressed hard against my side, like a warning of just how close I'd come to a mortal wound myself

I held, for a moment, heart still pounding, pressing my dagger ever deeper and keeping it there just to make sure.

But the dragon didn't stir, didn't so much as twitch, and it had gone completely silent. It wasn't even breathing anymore.

It was dead.

My finger flicked the switch again, and the dagger turned off as I slowly extracted it from out of the creature's head with a sickening squelch. When I looked down at it, the entire thing was coated in blood and small bits of vaguely pink blobs that I didn't really want to think too hard about. My sleeve was red almost up to the elbow.

Something curled in my belly. It felt like accomplishment.

I killed a dragon.

Slowly, I extricated myself, wiggling my legs out from under the dragon's neck — my shins were definitely bruised, I realized with a wince, and I was going to be feeling it for quite a while. It was probably a miracle I hadn't broken anything.

But I couldn't be too upset about that. I killed a dragon. A real one, not an imitation like Lung. A beast of legend, a creature of myth, and sure, Mash had been the one to bring it to the ground, but I dealt the killing blow.

For just a moment, I felt strong again, powerful, in a way I hadn't since Gold Morning. I was Skitter, I was Weaver, the cape who faced down all comers and never lost, even if she didn't win. I wasn't the no name spellcaster struggling to catch up to her peers, I was the girl who stood against the end of the world and gave it the middle finger.

"Whoa."

I smoothed my expression out as the twins came over, eyes wide and staring at me. I felt hyper aware of the blood dripping from my right hand and my knife, the red stains that coated my sleeve, as I turned to face them. They gaped openly and unabashedly at the corpse behind me.

"Senpai really did kill a dragon by carving out its eyes," Ritsuka breathed.

"I thought she was exaggerating," Rika admitted. "Senpai really is a badass."

A muscle in my cheek jumped as Mash came over to join us. I hadn't realized the twins had taken that brief bit I'd mentioned to Cúchulainn so completely to heart. It must have sounded pretty ludicrous at the time, after all.

"Th-that was incredibly reckless!" Mash scolded me. "Even if it was just a wyvern —"

My brow furrowed. "Just a wyvern?"

That brought Mash up short, like she'd forgotten that my education in magic and magecraft was much shorter and less comprehensive than hers or the rest of Team A's.

"Wyverns are a subspecies of dragon, Miss Taylor," she explained slowly. "Thaumaturgically, they're not considered true dragons, because their mystery is weaker, although they share many of the same innate traits." She bit her lip worriedly, and her face twisted as she looked behind me at the fallen beast. "If our enemy had been a true dragon, I'm not sure any of us would have been able to harm it at all."

The sense of triumph in my gut soured. My grip on the nanothorn dagger tightened.

So. I'd gotten myself all hyped up for nothing, huh? Taylor the Dragonslayer. In the end, it was nothing more than a worthless fantasy cooked up by my own ignorance.

I looked back at the wyvern, still just as dead.

Saying "all that effort" like we'd fought a long and arduous battle wasn't quite right, but I'd had a hard enough time doing anything at all to it. My swarm was useless, nothing more than a distraction, and my knife had made it through, but only the soft tissues of the eye. Now might be a good time to test it, see if I could carve off its scales with the nanothorns active, but did it lose mystery at the moment of death, because it was no longer a fearsome, unstoppable monster? That might be a worthless thing as well.

An approaching presence jerked me out of my thoughts, and I looked up at the soldiers cautiously approaching from inside Vaucouleurs as a fly landed on the leader's back. Mash, seeing my attention shift, followed my gaze, and when she saw the soldiers coming closer, weapons raised, she held up one of her hands and took a step towards them.

"Monsieur," she began. "Excuse me, but we are travelers —"

"Back!" the leader shouted, brandishing a spear. Both it and his voice shook. "Stay back, heathen! Begone from this place with your witchcraft and sorcery! W-we'll have none of that, here!"

Mash blinked. "Witchcraft?"

"Do you think none of us saw you summon that infernal swarm? Get back! Go! Leave this place!"

Slowly, she stepped backwards until she was next to me, but she didn't go any farther. To protect me? Even if I didn't really need it against a bunch of ordinary soldiers, I still appreciated the thought.

"The ley line?" I muttered to her.

"There should be a spot somewhere outside the village, as well," she whispered back. "It won't be as convenient as lodgings here, but we could set up camp there, if we have to."

The lead soldier thrust his spear at us threateningly. "Go! Leave! Now!"

"I'd say we have to."

She nodded. "Okay," she said louder, to the soldier, "we'll leave peacefully."

Carefully, we backed up until we reached the twins.

"Senpai?" Ritsuka asked quietly. "Mash?"

"There should be another ley line terminal somewhere in the forest outside the city," I summarized for him. "The soldiers think we used witchcraft to summon an evil swarm of bugs, so we'll have to camp out there instead of in Vaucouleurs itself."

"That was us, right?" Rika asked.

"Yes, but it wasn't magic."

"Then what —"

"Now isn't the time," I cut across her. "We can discuss that sort of thing later. For now, we need to leave, before those soldiers' desperation overwhelms their fear."

The twins nodded. "Right."

Carefully, we all backed up, keeping Mash in front of us in case one of the soldiers got particularly brave, and we kept going until we'd reached the treeline again and Vaucouleurs and its soldiers disappeared behind the foliage.

"Now what?" Ritsuka asked.

I turned to our resident Demi-Servant. "Mash?"

She pursed her lips, and an instant later, her shield disappeared like a mirage. Returned to spirit form, I realized after a second, because regular Servants could do that with both themselves and their gear. I hadn't known Mash could, because she was obviously a living person and a Servant simultaneously, but then there was a lot I didn't know about how a Demi-Servant was supposed to work. I wasn't sure anyone else, even the Director, did either.

Mash reached out and pushed aside some of the foliage. "This way," she said. "Follow me, please."

We ducked under the canopy and left the beaten path to enter the forest proper, following Mash as she led us towards where she sensed the ley lines converging. Not for the first time, I wished my training in magecraft was more complete, that I'd had more time to learn the things most magi took for granted. Being able to sense out the ley lines beneath my feet would have been an invaluable skill, both then and in Fuyuki.

We made a beeline through the trees, and through my bugs and the galaxy of lights in my head that represented them, I felt us skirt around Vaucouleurs. The soldiers had retreated back into the fort, and as we got closer and I could send more bugs to recon the inside, a nasty picture started to form for me.

We'd been expecting a small town, a thriving place with a contingent of soldiers there to protect it. What I saw instead was little better than a mass grave, building upon building — those that were still standing, anyway — filled with people with varying and various injuries. Most of them were soldiers, wrapped in bloodied linens and disfigured in some way or form. The lucky ones were intact, but for gashes torn into their flesh. The unlucky ones didn't bear mentioning.

What happened to this place? Had there been a battle that broke out, and these were the injured leftover? Or…

A chill went down my spine.

Was that not the only time they'd been attacked by a wyvern? In that case, was the one I'd killed the only one, or were there more, terrorizing the French countryside?

A better question might be where a bunch of wyverns would have come from, since this was definitely too far outside the time when such things had supposedly lived in this world. How had Marie put it? With the advancing of mankind's supremacy, the mystics of the ages past retreated to the inner sea. Whatever that meant. I didn't need to understand the fine mechanics of it to get the general idea that things like dragons and unicorns had all but disappeared past a certain point in history, and the fifteenth century was definitely long past that point.

Eventually, our little group came through the trees and found ourselves in the middle of a small clearing, where there sat —

"A campfire?" Ritsuka asked incredulously.

Not anymore, but little tufts of smoke were rising from the blackened logs, piled on top of each other and arranged in the center of the clearing, away from anything else flammable. Cautiously, I stepped closer and reached out, waving my hand as close to the charred wood as I dared. If the lingering smoke hadn't convinced me, what I felt there did.

"It's still warm," I confirmed.

"Someone else was here before?" Mash said lowly.

"Yes, I was," a new voice interrupted.

Mash and I both leapt, startled, as she summoned her shield and my hand went to my dagger, and we whirled around towards the voice to find a young woman, dressed in purple cloth and gleaming silvery armor. Her long, blonde hair was tied into a thick braid that was just way too long to be practical.

She smiled at us sheepishly. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you."

"Who —"

"She's a Servant!" Mash said urgently.

I glanced at her, and then back to the young woman. The only way she could have managed to get that close as a Servant without either Mash or Romani detecting her was if she was —

"An Assassin?"

The young woman blinked, and her hands came up in a placating gesture as she shook her head vigorously. "W-wait a second, I think there's been some kind of misunderstanding!"

Beep-beep!

"Everyone, I'm detecting a Servant nearby!" Romani told us. "Their presence is incredibly weak and diminished, but it's definitely a Servant!"

He stopped and looked at the young woman. Silence hung in the air for a second.

"Ah?"

"Maybe if I explained things?" she offered with a tentative smile. Slowly, she lowered her arms and pressed one hand between her, ah, large tracts of land, which were for some reason unarmored while gleaming plate covered her midsection. "Yes, I am a Servant of the Ruler class. My true name is Jeanne d'Arc."

"What?" Romani blurted out.

"It's true!" the young woman insisted. "Ah, the reason you might have trouble sensing me… Yes, for some reason, my performance is much lower than it should be. All of my stats have been ranked down for reasons I can't explain, and a lot of the unique abilities of the Ruler class that I'm supposed to have are missing. For example, the anti-Servant Command Spells and the ability to reveal the true names of other Servants I encounter."

If those were the sorts of advantages Rulers could expect, maybe summoning one of them should have been my goal, instead of one of the Knight classes. That sort of thing sounded invaluable.

"Have you encountered other Servants, here?" I asked sharply.

The young woman who claimed to be Jeanne shook her head. "No. I was only summoned into this era a few hours ago, so I'm afraid I'm not even sure what's going on with this Holy Grail War. A lot of the information I should have been provided by the Grail seems to be missing entirely. It's been a bit of a godsend that I was summoned into a time and place I'm familiar with, because I can at least speak the language."

I shared a look with Mash, and then I turned to the twins. "Ritsuka, Rika, what do you see with Master's Clairvoyance?"

They both squinted at Jeanne, frowning, and after a moment, shook their heads.

"Ruler class Servant, Jeanne d'Arc," Ritsuka reported. "Revelation, Charisma, and Saint, although the last one is sealed. It looks like she is who she says she is, Senpai."

Slowly, we all relaxed, and Jeanne's tentative smile became broader and more open.

"Mademoiselle Jeanne?" Romani said. "I think there's some things we need to talk about, before we get ahead of ourselves."

And so he explained Chaldea, our mission, what we were doing there and why. The Grand Order, Singularities and what little we knew about how they functioned, what they were and what they did, the proposed existence and role of the Holy Grail in making them, everything relevant to the situation.

"There are some things we just can't say for sure, yet," he finished, "but we can at least make some educated guesses. Do you have any questions?"

"It's a lot to take in, I'll admit," she said at length, "but no, I think I understand all of the important parts, ah, Doctor Roman?"

"Doctor Roman is fine," he assured her.

"So the reason I don't have most of the abilities I could expect in a Holy Grail War is because this isn't strictly a Holy Grail War?"

"If you loosen the description to 'any conflict with the Holy Grail as its central prize,' then you could call it one, but yes, this isn't really a Holy Grail War like the ritual in Fuyuki, Japan. The Holy Grail is still the prize, but technically speaking, this whole thing started when someone 'won' it."

"It would definitely explain a lot," Jeanne muttered.

"What about you?" I asked. "Do you have any information about what's going on in this Singularity? What point of history has been overturned?"

She scowled. "Unfortunately, I don't know as much as I would like to. However… Yes, there are a few things I managed to find out in the few hours I've been here." She took a deep breath. "Firstly, my living self was executed only a short time ago. In fact, it seems to have been only about a week. This might be why my abilities are diminished, since my legend is so 'new.' Secondly, as the point of divergence… King Charles VII has been killed, and Jeanne d'Arc was the one who killed him."

Silence met this statement.

"What?" Romani croaked.

"You didn't…" I started, but I wasn't sure how to articulate the question in my head.

How did you ask a woman whether she killed the man she dedicated, sacrificed her life for? Jeanne d'Arc gave up everything in order to see Charles VII crowned; the idea that she would turn around and kill him seemed like something out of a Master-Stranger horror story.

"No," Jeanne confirmed. "Based upon what I was able to hear, Jeanne d'Arc lived and died here according to proper human history, as you call it. However, a few days after she was executed, a woman bearing her face and name, my face and name, appeared. She attacked Orléans, slaughtered the entire city to a man, and slew King Charles VII and every single member of his court."

Orléans and King Charles VII… Her entire history was bundled up into that. The two greatest accomplishments of her relatively short career were ending the English occupation of Orléans and ensuring Charles VII made it to the throne. It was quite literally what she'd given her life for, after a fashion.

I eyed her, looking for any sign that the news had gotten to her, but she didn't seem particularly upset or distressed. She might have been planning another military campaign with the French army instead of telling us that her life's work had been all for nothing, for all the difference it seemed to make to her.

If it had been me, being told that a woman wearing my face and name had gone and crushed the refugees of Gold Morning just days after I killed Scion… I wasn't sure I would have been anywhere near that calm.

Jeanne's lips drew tight. "They also say…that as part of her pact with the Devil to gain new life, she also gained a sorcery that allowed her to summon legions of dragons to do her bidding."
— o.0.O.O.0.o —​
Taylor killed a dragon! For real, this time! It was a real dragon, with wings and scales and everything!

But it was a super weak dragon that skipped leg day, so she only gets half points.

Next chapter, Taylor finally gets to do the summoning thing and become a proper Master for reals, guys.

Special thanks to everyone who has helped me out, and especially to all my Patrons who have stayed with me this far, through all the rocky moments and dry stretches. You guys are the best, and your continued support is invaluable.
If you like what you're reading and want to support me as a writer so I can pay the bills, I have a Patreon. If Patreon is too long term, I have a Ko-fi page, too. If you want to commission something from me, check out either my Deviantart post or my artist registry page for my rates. Links in my sig. Every little bit helps keep me afloat, even if you can only afford a couple dollars.
Next — Chapter XV: Long Odds
 
Chapter XV: Long Odds
Chapter XV: Long Odds

It only took a few seconds for the implications of what Jeanne was saying to sink in.

My eyes went wide. "The wyvern…"

Jeanne nodded. "It was likely one of this other Jeanne's…this Jeanne Alter's army."

"Jalter?" Rika mumbled.

"That makes some sense," Romani said thoughtfully. "There's no way wyverns are a native existence to fifteenth century France. By that time, mankind's advance had already pushed them out into the previous texture. Even most of the stragglers were long dead."

"I can't say I understand all of that, but you're right that no such thing existed while I was alive," Jeanne said. "Moreover… I just don't understand how she'd do such a thing as command them, either. I certainly didn't have any skill for controlling magical beasts."

That was a good point, wasn't it? There was a reason dragons of all types tended to sit at the top of tier lists when magi talked about Phantasmals. Admittedly, I didn't know as much about them as I'd have liked to, and I didn't know if I was overcorrecting for how much my head had swelled over killing that wyvern, but if even things like ordinary lions and tigers were hard to tame, then something as powerful as a dragon would be even more so.

For that matter, we had enough trouble just managing to summon Servants. We had a whole system dedicated to it, a cutting edge mechanism that still only had four recorded successes to date. Would summoning a magical creature be easier, or harder?

And even if it was easier, to summon a whole army of them…

"Summoning them is already going to be an incredible feat, right?" I asked Romani.

"It's much like summoning Servants," Romani answered. "Strictly speaking, for modern magecraft, it's impossible. Even for the fifteenth century, it would be a difficult, high level spell, the sort of thing you need a Grand Ritual for."

"Or a Holy Grail?"

…you'd need something with a whole lot of power backing you up.

Mash's brow furrowed. "Miss Taylor…do you think…?"

I looked at her, face solemn.

The pieces were starting to come together in my head. Jeanne d'Arc had been summoned back into the world using the Holy Grail and then corrupted by it, and after that, she turned on France, used the Grail to summon her own army of powerful magical beasts, and destroyed everything her living self had helped to build. Out of what? Spite? Revenge, for the French letting her be executed instead of mounting a rescue? The reasoning didn't matter so much as the acts themselves.

And perhaps this Jeanne Alter's presence had triggered a sort of autoimmune response that automatically manifested the original. I was a bit murkier on that, but I thought I understood the gist of how that sort of thing was supposed to work.

There were a few holes, a few things that I didn't have an answer for, like who or what had summoned that twisted version of Jeanne in the first place, but it was entirely possible Lev or someone had done it just for the purposes of unpinning this point in history.

"I wasn't expecting to find the answer this quickly," Romani admitted, "but I think you're probably right. Occam's Razor and everything. If there's a Servant going around, by all accounts as corrupted as the Fuyuki Servants were, performing feats of magecraft that would otherwise be nearly impossible…"

I nodded. "It only makes sense that Servant would be the one with the Holy Grail. And if she killed King Charles VII and all of Orléans, too —"

"Then she'd also be the source of the historical deviation," Ritsuka concluded.

Romani's hologram nodded. "Presumably, yes."

"And so the only way to correct the deviation from proper history and set this all to right is to defeat my alternate self and reclaim the Holy Grail?" Jeanne asked.

"Presumably," Romani hedged. "I don't want everyone to get the wrong idea, here. This is all just speculation. Educated guesses. It's just that this is the best we can do with the evidence we currently have. The only way to find out for sure might be to confront her yourself, and, well…"

I grimaced. "Army of wyverns, right."

That would probably wind up being the biggest obstacle. One at a time, we might be able to take them down much the same as we had the first one, but I doubted Jeanne Alter or the rest of her army would be so kind as to come at us in an orderly line and wait their turn instead of just mowing us all down all at once.

Romani let out a heavy sigh.

"Yeah. If it's just one or two, Mash and Jeanne might be able to handle them just fine, but if it's an actual army, I don't want you guys going anywhere near that."

Absentmindedly, my hand rose and glided over the hilt of my knife.

With what we had right then, neither did I.

"I don't taste good extra crispy," Rika mumbled.

What we needed right then was someone to even the odds, someone who looked at an army of dragons and smiled. The trouble was, while quite a few Heroic Spirits had the anecdote of slaying a dragon in their myths, vanishingly few had it as a central focus of their legends. Most of the Knights of the Round Table, for instance, had slain at least one dragon throughout their adventures, but the killing of the dragon itself was just the removal of an obstacle, not the goal of the adventure itself.

If I narrowed the field down… Saint George was a big one. But if I was going for an iconic dragonslayer, a Heroic Spirit whose name was practically synonymous with the deed, someone whose legend still reverberated through the modern day? A big name, a powerful name, a respected hero with a storied history?

I could only think of two.

I turned back to Romani. "You said you wanted me to try summoning again once we found a ley line, right?"

Romani blinked at me, and then his eyes widened. "Wait, you're not thinking what I think you're thinking, are you? Listen, one Servant isn't going to make much difference against an army of wyverns!"

"Depends on the Servant," I replied. "I wouldn't say no to Saint George, but I was thinking…if we could get Sigurd or Siegfried…"

"We might be able to play on the conceptual advantage," Romani muttered. "But still, that's… Even with one of them, Taylor, that's an uphill battle. Plus, think of how much magical energy a fight like that would burn through! I'm not sure our generators can handle it!"

"Did you get the Grail from Fuyuki hooked up properly?"

"I-I'm not sure that means what you think it does!" Romani sputtered. "Just because we got the Grail jacked into our power grid doesn't mean you can just use as much energy as you want!"

"You said getting the Grail set up would let us support another three or so Servants, didn't you?" I asked pointedly. "We don't need another three Servants, we just need one who can do the job of three. One top tier dragonslayer who can handle the wyverns for us."

"But that's not a guarantee!" Romani protested. "Sure, it would be great if you could manage to summon a Servant as powerful as Sigurd or Siegfried, but the spell doesn't work on pretty please and wishful thinking! You'd need a catalyst with a connection to one of them, and even then —"

I lifted my right arm, sleeve still coated in wet, red blood. "A catalyst, like the blood of a dragon, for instance?"

Jeanne gasped, and Romani's mouth flapped soundlessly as he stared at the proof of my victory. It was too bad I hadn't managed to grab a scale or fang or something, because that probably would have been a much less time sensitive catalyst, but when it came to the ideal catalyst for someone like Siegfried or Sigurd… Well, the heart and blood were definitely top tier. They were just a lot more prone to degrading quickly.

"How…" he began, and his voice cracked halfway through. "How did you get dragon's blood on your arm, Taylor?"

"I killed a dragon," I replied simply.

"I-it was very reckless!" Mash burst in. "Even if it worked, Miss Taylor could very easily have been killed, Doctor Roman!"

"She carved out its eye," Rika said, giggling a little under her breath.

"What?" Romani asked, voice strangled.

I cut the story down to its bare bones. "Mash brought it down, and while she was holding it in place, I stabbed it in the eye with my knife and kept going until I reached its brain."

"I really didn't need to picture that part," Ritsuka muttered.

"Your knife?"

"Oh!" Romani was pushed aside with an indignant squawk, and Da Vinci's smiling face filled the hologram's screen. "You got to give it a test drive! Tell me, how did it perform? Was it up to spec? Was it better or worse than it was when you first got it? On a scale of one to ten, how would you rate my repair job?"

I blinked. "Uh… Ten?"

Checking to make sure the nanothorn knife had been exactly as it had when Defiant gave it to me hadn't been very high on my priority list while I was busy shoving it into the skull of a powerfully magical beast. It was very close to the bottom, in fact.

Da Vinci danced away, whooping triumphantly about how even alien blackboxes couldn't trump sheer genius, and Romani slowly pulled himself back up into his seat. He took a deep breath.

"Okay," he said, and he sounded much calmer, now. "Putting aside just how reckless and incredibly dangerous it was to get anywhere near a dragon of any kind with nothing more than a knife… I'm still not sold on this idea. Before you say anything," he added as I opened my mouth, "I'm not disagreeing with the merits. And yeah, I did ask you to attempt a summoning when you found a ley line. I'm just a little nervous about the impact this is going to have on our power consumption, because if it's not enough from us here, Taylor, you'll be the one having to pick up the slack, and that could be very, very dangerous."

"We don't have much choice," I answered. "Maybe we could bring Emiya in, but it would be better to have someone who specializes in taking out dragons instead of a Swiss army knife."

"A what?" Mash asked bewilderedly.

"It's a metaphor for a jack of all trades," Romani told her absently.

Technically, that was a metaphor as well.

I spread my arms. "If you've got a better idea, Romani, I'm listening."

Romani's brow furrowed, but he didn't immediately offer any suggestions.

"Let's do it," Ritsuka said quietly.

Romani's head swiveled in his direction. "Ritsuka?"

"We're up against an army of wyverns, Doctor Roman," said Ritsuka. "We need all the help we can get."

The silence stretched for a moment, and at length, Romani finally sighed and gave up.

"Okay," he said. "I guess making an attempt for a specific Servant will double as an extra test for the system. I'll monitor everything from this end and try to see what the readings will tell us, and that should make things smoother in the future. I hope you know what you're doing, Taylor."

So did I.

Romani's image blinked out. Immediately, I turned to Mash.

"Get the summoning circle set up," I ordered. "With your shield, like in Fuyuki."

She hesitated and glanced at Ritsuka and Rika, and then set about doing as I'd said. While she was getting that ready, I reached for the clasps and zippers on my top and started undoing them.

Jeanne and Rika both squeaked.

"W-what are you doing?" Jeanne demanded in a high-pitched voice.

"S-Senpai, a maiden only reveals herself to the love of her life!" Rika agreed. She gasped and threw her hands over Ritsuka's eyes. "Onii-chan, don't you dare look!"

One of my eyebrows rose.

"I can't exactly throw myself onto the summoning circle, can I?"

It took a little doing with just one hand, since my other was covered in blood, but eventually, I managed to get everything unfastened and shrug one arm out of my clean sleeve. There was no real way to avoid smearing more blood everywhere, though, although the blood on my hand had mostly dried. Some of it still got inside my top.

Rika gasped. "S-Senpai took her shirt off!"

I rolled my eyes.

"Chaldea does have its own workout gym, you know," I told them. "You're not seeing anything now you wouldn't see if you spent time there."

It wasn't like I was wearing sexy lingerie, either, or some sheer, lacy thing you might see on a femme fatale in a James Bond movie. A sports bra only made sense when you were going into a combat zone, and it wasn't like I had a pair of melons attached to my chest that anyone would be getting a peek at. I had enough problems without adding chronic back pain on top of them.

When Mash was ready, I stepped over to the shield she'd placed on the ground, took an awkward hold of my top, and tried to wring the blood out of my sleeve (sorry to wrinkle your hard work, Da Vinci). Several thick drops squeezed out of the fabric and fell onto the surface of the rounded centerpiece, but too much of it had dried.

This was going to be a pain in the ass to get clean, wasn't it?

With a sigh, I shook out my hands and carefully draped my top over Mash's shield, taking great caution not to get the blood I'd just squeezed out back in the cloth. Then, I stepped back and turned to her.

"Are we good to go?"

Mash nodded. "Whenever you're ready, Miss Taylor."

I took a deep breath and forced my doubts down and away, and when I let it out, I thrust my hand towards the shield. The others stepped back a few feet to give me some more space, leaving me to stand there by myself.

No thinking about the results. No worrying about who might or might not show up. My catalyst should work, but even if it didn't, we wouldn't be worse off to have more allies on our side. Whichever Heroic Spirit answered my summons, he or she would be useful in at least some way for the upcoming battles.

So it was time to stop dawdling and fucking do it, already.

"Thy Essence is of Silver and Steel," I announced confidently. "Thy Foundation is built of gemstone and the Archduke of Contracts."

I wouldn't deny I was hoping for a dragon-slaying hero, though. Not when it would be oh so very convenient for the army of motherfucking wyverns we were going to have to deal with. Sigurd or Siegfried, would it be too much to hope one of them would be the Servant who came to me, now?

"Let the alighted wind be as a wall. Let the four cardinal gates be shut. Rise above the Crown, and let the three-forked road to the Kingdom revolve."

Above Mash's shield, a magic circle rose and glowed a bright, pale blue. A faint pillar of light jutted into the air, brightest where it met the circle and all but invisible at my eye level.

Not for the first time, I felt there must have been some deeper meaning to the incantation, that it couldn't be pure nonsense. The Crown, the Kingdom, I recognized them as having some relation to Kabbalism, but I knew next to nothing about that as a system of magecraft, so I couldn't have said how they were relevant here.

"Let it be filled. Again. Again. Again. Again. Let there be five-fold perfections upon each repetition. In my stead, let the filled sigils be annihilated."

A wind swept out from the pillar, low and gentle like a summer breeze, and my hair fluttered as it was pushed back away from my face. It was like the breath of some great entity turning my way.

The connection with the Throne was forming. Just as it had in Fuyuki, just as it had in the summoning chamber where Rika had called Emiya. This time, this time, I was definitely going to summon a Servant of my own. No fuckups, no uncertainties. This time, for sure.

"Thy body shall rest under my dominion, and my fate shall rest in thy sword. Let this be my oath. I shall attain all the virtues of Heaven. I shall punish all the evils of Hell."

The wind reached a fevered pitch. My hair whipped about, yanked back away from my head. The winding, grinding echo of the magical energy churning vibrated through me and through my magic circuits, racing up along my nerves like electricity up a copper wire. The back of my right hand, my prosthetic, burned like someone had jabbed it with a cattle prod.

I had to grit my teeth and force the rest of the incantation out. One last line. Just one. That was it.

"Thou the Seven Heavens, clad in the Three Great Words, arrive from the Ring of Deterrence, O Keeper of the Balance!"

The pillar of light flashed. The vague burning on the back of my hand sharpened, condensed down, and I had to squint through the blinding light to see a familiar pattern etch itself across my skin —

The wind vanished, sweeping out in one final burst. The light went with it, disappearing just as suddenly, and slowly, as I blinked the spots from my vision, my eyes readjusted to the shaded alcove of our little clearing. My heart thundered in my chest anxiously.

"You summoned me, so here I am," a man's voice said calmly, and the bugs on the edges of the clearing started jerking about erratically as triumph filled my chest like an expanding balloon.

His confident grin was the first thing I saw, and then the turquoise chestplate and shoulder plates, the red gauntlets and greaves. Short, dark hair, dark eyes that glittered, olive skin, and — the triumph in my chest wilted and died — a wicked-looking crimson bow.

"Archer class Servant, Arash Kamangir," the man said. "Pleasure to meet you, Master."

I looked down at the marks etched into the back of my hand, identical to the ones the Fuyuki Grail had handed to me when I contracted Cúchulainn back in Fuyuki. Before, I hadn't had any idea how to describe them, what they could be said to resemble. Now… Now, I saw them for what they were. Tentacles, branching tentacles made of eyes, or perhaps eyes made of tentacles. An eldritch monstrosity with a thousand eyes and an ever expanding reach.

My passenger.

"Yes," I said with affected neutrality, "I guess it is."

The bugs in the distance buzzed with agitation.

The summoning had worked, but I hadn't managed to call either of the two I was trying for. Was it just a matter of my catalyst not being strong enough, or was it me? Was this my karma or something? Destiny? Was there some cosmic rule that said I wasn't allowed to get what I asked for and had to make do with whatever the dice rolled for me? Because I was tired of getting snake eyes.

Arash's grin fell and his brow furrowed. "Is something wrong, Master?"

I pointed to his feet. "You're standing on my shirt."

"Oh!"

He jumped away and reached down, picking it up and flapping it as though that would clean it of the blood and grime already on it. When he apparently thought he'd got it as well as he was going to get it, he stepped towards me and held it out with an apologetic smile.

"Sorry about that," he said genially.

I took my proffered shirt and started putting it back on.

"It's fine."

The others, perhaps sensing that things hadn't gone catastrophically wrong, stepped back closer to get a better look at our new addition. They all regarded him thoughtfully, like he was a puzzle that needed solving. Rika came the closest, leaning in to inspect him.

"Something the matter?" he asked her politely.

"You're not Sigurd," she told him bluntly. "Or Siegfried."

He blinked, like he wasn't sure what that was supposed to mean. "I'm not. Were you expecting one of those two?"

Rika pointed at me. More accurately, at my sleeve, which was still red with drying dragon blood.

"Senpai was using dragon's blood as a catalyst."

He turned back to me, bewildered. "And you got me instead?"

"Do you have dragon-slaying in your myth?" I asked pointedly.

"Afraid not," he told me with a self-deprecating grin. "I'm just an ordinary archer. Nothing special."

"Then yes. I got you, instead of one of the two I was actually trying to get."

"Yeah," he laughed. "Compared to those two, I guess I am something of a letdown, huh?"

Beep-beep!

"Successful summoning completed!" Romani announced brightly. "It all looks good, magical energy flow from the reactor is nominal, we're completely in the green! I guess I was really worried over nothing, huh? So, this is…"

He trailed off as he caught sight of Arash, stared for a long moment, and then he looked down and started to furiously type at his keyboard.

"An Archer?" he muttered. "But neither Sigurd or Siegfried should qualify for that class at all… Plus, that appearance, that armor, that's all wrong for Scandinavia. Wait…" He squinted down at his screen and blanched. "Arash Kamangir?"

"In the flesh!" Arash said with a jaunty wave, and then he winced. "Well, kind of. Servant and all."

Romani sighed and deflated.

"Well, this didn't go anything like how it was supposed to."

Arash took it in stride. "Sorry to disappoint."

That. That was kind of frustrating on its own. We'd spent the last minute or two trashing him and talking about how we'd wanted a completely different Heroic Spirit, and he wasn't even getting angry about it. In his place, I wouldn't have been anywhere near as forgiving or level-headed about it.

In the absence of a catalyst — or if the catalyst just didn't work, I guessed — I was supposed to summon a Heroic Spirit who matched me as a person, someone who fit well with me. But this guy… I just wasn't seeing it.

"I'm sorry. It's just we were pinning our hopes for resolving this Singularity on managing to summon a dragon-slaying hero."

"You really needed them that badly, huh?" Arash asked.

Romani's lips quirked, mirthless. Not a smile or a grin, but not quite a scowl or a grimace.

"What do you know about the situation?"

"Almost nothing."

Romani sighed again and ran a hand through his hair.

"Yeah, we're still working on getting all of the systems restored, so the information packet provided to summoned Servants is still really sparse. It should have at least contained the information about our Grand Order…"

Arash nodded. "I got that bit, yeah. I'm not sure what's going on here, though. Can you fill me in?"

Romani turned to me expectantly, and with an internal sigh of my own, I took that as my cue. Don't think I don't see what you're trying to do, Romani.

"Alright," I said, "this is the situation as it stands so far, at least as we know it…"

I gave him the important bits, including the highlights of our adventure through Fuyuki and what little information we'd managed to scrounge up about the Singularity we were currently inside of. I left out the part about how we could have gone to Rome instead, out of respect for Romani's wish to keep the twins as innocent as we could for a little bit longer.

I got the feeling Arash saw right through that. Not that he gave any particular sign that I could point to, but rather a kind of instinct I'd honed after spending so much time with Lisa.

"As of right now, our only confirmed enemy combatants are this Jeanne Alter and her army of wyverns," I finished. "There's no indication of other Servants on her side or ours, so far."

Arash hummed. "It could be that the reason you didn't get Sigurd or Siegfried is because one or both of them are already here," he said shrewdly.

Romani blinked. "What?"

"Well, call it a hunch," Arash hedged with a shrug. "But it makes sense, doesn't it? If stray Servants were summoned to counter Jeanne Alter and her army of wyverns, wouldn't an iconic dragonslayer be the top of the list for appropriate responses?"

I shifted a little as I regarded him in a different light. It was possible, wasn't it? If Jeanne herself could be summoned by the world's autoimmune response to counter her evil self, then it was definitely possible that the very same kind of response had brought Siegfried or Sigurd into this Singularity as well.

A glance at my hand showed the dark red command spells that stood out against my skin.

In which case, it was still possible to form a contract with one of them, wasn't it? As long as they were here, we could find them and team up.

"That would be wonderful, wouldn't it?" Jeanne said brightly. "If they're already here, then all we have to do is find them!"

"I…don't think it's going to be that easy," said Ritsuka, wincing.

There were just a few problems with it, though.

"We have no way of knowing where they might have been summoned to, all things considered," I agreed. "If they're even here at all, the entire French countryside is up for grabs."

"They could be anywhere, couldn't they?" Mash said. "Even if we went looking across the whole country, they might move on before we reach them."

"My poor feet," Rika mumbled miserably.

Romani sighed for a third time. "There goes that idea."

"No," said Jeanne confidently. We all looked to her.

"No?"

"If either of them was summoned, they would have appeared somewhere relevant to the situation, am I understanding that right?" she said.

"Theoretically," Romani hedged. "But that could still be anywhere."

"Maybe so," Jeanne allowed. "Even if you're right, we already have a lead, don't we? The one place we know for sure my evil self has been, where she definitely used her army of wyverns to slaughter the populace."

I saw where she was going with that.

"Orléans."

Jeanne nodded.

"We should begin investigating there."

My eyebrows rose a little. Wow. Okay. It was one thing to hear about exactly how clever Jeanne d'Arc had been and how she had routed the English army without ever even drawing her sword. It was another thing to see it for yourself.

"Whoa, wait a minute!" Romani said urgently. "That's where we know she's been already, right? What if she stuck around and set up her own base? You could be walking right into her headquarters! Even with an Archer like Arash, there's no way you're ready to face down an army of wyverns, right now!"

Ironically, that was probably my first instinct — rush in and work things out as we went. But I wasn't too excited about our odds of making that work with what and who we currently had, and I didn't want to bring in our reinforcements just yet. Better to save Emiya for an actual emergency.

"You both have good points," I cut in as Jeanne opened her mouth to rebut him. "Orléans is our best bet, but going straight there could be dangerous. So what if we did some snooping in the area, first, instead of charging headfirst into the dragon's den, as it were?"

I took a quick glance at Arash with the Master's Clairvoyance that was supposed to come with the FATE system — and had to suppress a flinch, because wow, that Noble Phantasm was a huge handicap. Finding other stray Servants to ally with, if there even were any around, just got bumped way up the priorities list.

"There should be a few towns around the city," Mash added. "If there's a Servant like Siegfried or Sigurd near Orléans, there would almost certainly be at least a few rumors circulating through them."

Jeanne frowned. "There are several smaller towns within walking distance of Orléans."

"The closest one from here?"

Jeanne's brow drew together in thought.

"La Charité," she answered after a moment. "It doesn't sit directly between Orléans and Vaucouleurs, but it's one of the closest towns from here."

"Then we'll head there, first," I decided.

Jeanne nodded. "We can head out first thing in the morning."

My brow furrowed.

"It's not even noon," I pointed out. "And it's June in France. We should still have a half a day of daylight left to make it there. If we're quick, we can be there by sunset."

"Sounds like a good idea, Master," Arash chimed in with a bright grin.

"Um, Taylor…"

I turned to find Romani staring at me. "Yeah?"

"La Charité is… That is, from here to there is… H-how should I put this…"

"It's over three-hundred kilometers, Miss Taylor," Mash informed me.

I blanched. "What?"

A noise of distress, like the air being let out of a balloon, came out of Rika's throat. Her brother's face was twisted in horror.

"On foot, it'll take you about sixty hours to make it there," Romani told us. "That's about…five days of walking, give or take, and that's only if you don't take breaks or stop to eat."

"It would be faster with some horses!" Jeanne put in helpfully, except it really wasn't all that helpful.

"That's great," I said. "Do you happen to have some? Or maybe know where we could get a few, without any money to pay for them?"

Jeanne flinched and her slumping shoulders answered me as surely as anything else would have. Not like I was expecting anything different.

There was a moment of frustration where I had the thought about how much easier it would be if we could just steal a couple and move on, if only I believed Jeanne would let us get away with it, but it passed and settled into resignation. Even if this was a Singularity and everything would be corrected when it was all said and done, taking whatever we needed by force wasn't going to work in the long run.

"Romani, send us over some rations," I ordered. "We're going to need them, and there's no way of knowing when we'll find another ley line."

"You still want to head out as soon as possible?" Jeanne asked.

"Sitting around the campfire for a day won't change how far we have to go or how long it'll take us to get there," I said. "We might as well get there sooner instead of later."

"I wish there was more I could do, but Taylor's right," Romani said. "I'll make sure to pack you enough supplies to last two days."

"Yay, more walking," Rika muttered miserably.

"Well, it's not like they had cars in the 1400s, Rika," her brother hissed back at her, but he didn't look any happier at the news.

It wasn't like there was anything I could do about it, either. One way or another, we needed to put things to right and set human history back on track. Without any other way of getting around, we were just going to have to hoof it the whole way.

I let out a long, explosive sigh.

How ironic. It wasn't the way I'd originally feared, but it looked like the only way to correct this Singularity was by killing Jeanne d'Arc.
— o.0.O.O.0.o —​
Arash isn't the obvious pick for Taylor's Servant. Strictly speaking, he isn't necessarily the absolute most compatible, either.

But their mindsets and tendency towards self-sacrifice are similar, and that will have payoffs in the future.

Special thanks to everyone who has helped me out, and especially to all my Patrons who have stayed with me this far, through all the rocky moments and dry stretches. You guys are the best, and your continued support is invaluable.
If you like what you're reading and want to support me as a writer so I can pay the bills, I have a Patreon. If Patreon is too long term, I have a Ko-fi page, too. If you want to commission something from me, check out either my Deviantart post or my artist registry page for my rates. Links in my sig. Every little bit helps keep me afloat, even if you can only afford a couple dollars.
Next — Chapter XVI: Crest of Blood
 
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Chapter XVI: Crest of Blood
Chapter XVI: Crest of Blood

Chaldea's beds were fairly basic and simple, but modern mattresses had spoiled me for bedding, because when I woke up in the attached quarters of La Charité's Notre Dame, it was on a far less comfortable cot that could barely own the name. My lower back and neck were both sore as I rolled off of it, and my shoulder throbbed whenever I moved it the wrong way.

It was the worst sleep I'd ever had, and I wasn't sure we hadn't been better off camping in the woods. Maybe I shouldn't have expected much from what amounted to the guest quarters in a church run by a small group of monks in a tiny garrison in Medieval France, but I'd made too many comparisons to the cots we'd slept on in that summer camp what seemed now like an eternity ago.

The twins didn't look any better off when I found them. In fact, they didn't look like they'd gotten any sleep at all.

"I'm guessing your beds weren't very comfortable, either."

They glanced at me from their seats at the table, bleary-eyed and miserable, and mumbled a greeting my way. Mash, next to them, seemed a little better off, but not by much. Arash, of course, as a Servant, didn't need to sleep at all, and so he looked no worse than he had at the moment of his summoning.

I envied him for that. Times like this made being a Noctis cape sound absolutely wonderful.

"Good morning!" Jeanne said brightly as she came over. Her arms were laden with a large, wooden tray piled with what might generously be called food. She set it on the table with a hefty thud.

I raised one eyebrow. "Morning."

Jeanne, on the other hand, looked positively at home. Which made some sense, I supposed, because she must have spent a not insignificant amount of time under the care of one monastic order or another both before and during her campaign.

"The monks didn't think it was appropriate to mingle, so we've been left to our own devices, I'm afraid," she reported apologetically.

"That's fine."

I glanced down at the platter she'd prepared. Unsurprisingly, it didn't look like anything special or well-prepared, and it wasn't a restaurant quality spread, but the scrambled eggs were familiar and the porridge, although I hadn't ever had any myself, wasn't all that out there, either. But I could already tell, just from the smell, that they were going to be bland and kind of tasteless.

That was probably about what I should have expected on a pauper's penny. Spices would have been luxuries in this time period, a commodity whose trade would easily make you rich. I wasn't sure trade with India and China, where a lot of them had originally come from, was even all that common, yet. Either way, cinnamon and salt were not something you'd find in a monk's kitchen.

There was nothing to be done, and it would at least be more flavorful than ration bars, so I sat down, took one of the heavy, wooden bowls, and started to eat. Fortunately, at least, we had modern steel utensils, because my other options weren't particularly exciting.

The others, like they'd been waiting for me to give the okay, grabbed their own breakfast and dug in. Rika and Ritsuka were still sluggish, but weren't missing their mouths or anything, at least.

Between bites, I turned back to Jeanne. "Were you recognized?"

Nervously, she patted her black hair, cropped short just below her shoulders. As much as she might have liked it, that ridiculous braid was just too distinctive, so it was the first thing we'd had to change to disguise her.

"No, it seems like your disguise did the trick," she admitted. "I'm not sure we even had to worry. I don't think Perrinet-Gressard ever even saw my face, certainly not close enough to recognize me at a glance."

For context: Perrinet-Gressard was the man who had held La Charité when Jeanne had put it under siege in 1429 on the orders of King Charles VII. Owing to a number of factors, including some apparently very persistent inclement weather, he'd managed to outlast Jeanne and her forces until they had no choice but to lift the siege and retreat.

Naturally, it was something of a sore point for her, but the last thing we needed was him realizing she was right there under his nose and raising a stink.

"He's only one man, and it doesn't have to be him to make things difficult. As long as one person can point you out from the Siege, we could get in a lot of trouble," I told her. "Besides. Would you have preferred skulking around or staying behind while we came here on our own?"

She sighed. Her shoulders sagged. "No. You're right. Maybe I'm just being overly sensitive about it."

It wasn't that I didn't sympathize, I really did. Waking up in Chaldea's infirmary with most of my hair shorn off had been the topping on a shit sundae. But sometimes, sacrifices had to be made, and cutting your hair and dyeing it was a really minor one in the grand scheme.

"If it helps, you're just as beautiful with black hair as you were with blonde," Arash added in with a charming smile.

Damn, he was pretty smooth, wasn't he?

Jeanne's cheeks flushed pink.

"N-not that it was a concern for me!" she said, her voice a little higher than before. "But… I guess it's really convenient, this hair dye thing you have in the future. In this time, something like this would have been much more work."

"We're just lucky that one of Chaldea's staff members happened to use black hair dye," Mash muttered somberly.

One of the deceased staff, she meant. There had to be some kind of irony in the fact that this whole plan only worked because the original owner of the dye was dead and didn't need it anymore.

"If you think this is incredible, you should see some of the colors people dye their hair in our time," I said wryly. "Red, blue, green, purple, pink…"

"Like Mash's?" Jeanne asked.

Mash flushed and patted self-consciously at her own hair. "Ah, no, Miss Jeanne. This is my natural color."

"Really? Rika, too?"

"Carpet matches the drapes," Rika reported with a kind of smug humor.

Arash choked on a laugh that he smothered, while Mash flushed again and Ritsuka gave his sister a completely unimpressed look. Jeanne, on the other hand, didn't seem to get what that meant, and I didn't have any intention of explaining it. Was there a thing for corrupting a saint? Something like "delinquency of a minor?"

I shrugged. "It's not common, but there are different kinds of mutations that can result in unusual colors."

Or magecraft. I hadn't seen anyone else like that for myself, but if magic could change your hair color as a side effect, then whatever they'd done to make Mash must have been responsible for that particular shade of lavender.

"You're looking at the prime mutation herself," Ritsuka said, looking pointedly at his sister. She stuck her tongue out at him childishly, and fuck, if that didn't tell me they were siblings, nothing would have.

"In any case," I steered the conversation back around, "Arash, did you have any luck?"

Arash shook his head ruefully.

"Sorry, Master. No luck finding any dragon-slaying heroes. There were rumors of a powerful warrior further down south, but no one gave me anything more solid than that."

"That certainly narrows it down," I grumbled.

Southern France… There was no way we had the time or the resources to spend searching the entire southern half of the country on a rumor, especially one that vague. With the speed of travel in this era — in terms of both the physical and the information — that was the work of months or years.

"What about my evil self?" Jeanne asked. "Was there anything else you learned about her?"

Arash shrugged. "Nothing that we didn't already know. Sorry to say, your other half is just as bad as you feared. The folks around here had much more vivid stories about what she did to Orléans, none of it good."

Jeanne let out a heavy, explosive sigh.

I didn't have anything to say to comfort her, so I didn't even try. "It's a dead end here, then."

"Seems that way, Master," said Arash.

Frustrating, but there wasn't anything we could do about it. Lisa would probably have told me that sometimes, when you followed a lead, it didn't take you anywhere useful. Sometimes, there just wasn't anything there for you to find.

That didn't stop it from feeling like a waste of time, though.

"Should we travel south next, Miss Taylor?" Mash asked.

I chewed on a mouthful of eggs to give myself a moment to think. As expected, they were bland and kind of tasteless, although they weren't anywhere near as bad as the ration bars, so they had that going for them.

We didn't really have a lot of options, did we? There were rumors we could chase down south, and we might find out more as we went, but that wasn't a guarantee. It sucked that we didn't have anything more actionable than that, but there also wasn't any guarantee that we'd find anything of use if we circled through the cities and towns around Orléans, either.

As for our group, particularly when it came to combat…

I glanced over at Arash.

His skills were mostly decent and worked well both to keep him alive and support his archery, and I had to assume he was good with his bow, if he'd been summoned as an Archer instead of one of the other classes. In hindsight, an Archer was probably the better option for fighting wyverns, since attacking something that could fly would be easier if you had ranged options yourself.

But his Noble Phantasm was a nonstarter. It was the last resort of last resorts, because it would immediately leave us down a fighter, and that put a limitation on him that instantly undercut everything else. He'd be useful, but at this point, we needed more than just him, and if Siegfried or Sigurd really was here, then there was no way we could pass them up.

Once I'd swallowed, I asked, "What's the next major settlement south of here?"

Mash turned to bring up the map, but Jeanne answered me immediately. "Lyon."

"That's…another 250 kilometers," Mash added, brow furrowing.

"Another week of walking," I muttered, doing the math in my head.

Rika's head hit the sturdy, wooden table with a solid thunk, and she groaned at the floor at the mere thought of it. Her brother's face had paled to match his porridge.

I wasn't exactly enthused with the idea, either. The travel time was fucking with us really badly, and I'd never wished for a car and modern roads more than I had during the days we'd spent trekking from Vaucouleurs to here.

The problem remained that there still wasn't anything we could do about it. Horses would definitely cut down on some of it — not as much as I would have liked, but definitely some of it — but the entire reason we were bunking in the living quarters adjacent to La Charité's Notre Dame instead of an inn or something was because we still didn't have any money to spend on anything else and we didn't much have a way of acquiring any in a reasonable timeframe.

"There's nowhere else closer by?" I asked Jeanne. "No other major towns or cities in that direction?"

"There are, but none of them are as big," she answered. "If we assume that my evil self wants revenge, then she'll start with the places that were most important to me, and then attack the largest cities."

"And she's already massacred everyone at Orléans, the site of your iconic victory…"

Jeanne grimaced.

So if her evil self, this Jeanne Alter, wanted to destroy everything Jeanne had built and kill all of the people Jeanne had saved until, assumedly, all of France was a smoldering ruin, where would she go next? Working under that idea, it would be the site of Jeanne's next biggest victory, and I would have thought that meant Reims, where Charles VII was crowned.

Except Charles VII was already dead, along with the entirety of his court. Would there even have been any point in going after Reims, except as and when it became "convenient?"

Ugh. There was still just too much we didn't know and too large an area to cover without a good way of getting there in anything resembling a timely manner.

"Do you have any idea —"

Beep-beep!

Romani's image appeared atop the table.

"Romani," I began.

"There's no time!" he cut across me urgently. "Everyone, I'm detecting the presence of a Servant, approaching fast! It's headed right for you!"

The whole group froze, turning to look at him, and Rika's spoon fell from her fingers with a clatter. I was the first one to move, and my stool toppled over, I stood from my seat so fast.

"If you left anything in your rooms, get it now!" I ordered the twins, and they jolted, scrambling out of their seats. "Jeanne, Arash, you two are going to be our frontline, I need you to —"

"Wait!" Romani shouted. "I'm getting a better scan now, it's separating! I-it's not one Servant, I'm reading at least five!"

"F-five?" Ritsuka choked out.

That many? How? Why? Did they know we were here, somehow? Had they detected us through some manner of Clairvoyance or magecraft and were even now coming to eliminate the threat to their plans?

I didn't even entertain the idea that it could be a coincidence. The mere thought was ludicrous. Why else would Jeanne's evil self bring four or more other Servants to the fight if not to crush us with overwhelming force?

"You need to get out of there!" Romani said. "There's no way you can take on that many enemy Servants by yourselves!"

And for once, I agreed with him. Five on three wasn't the worst odds, but between not having any idea who the other Servants were and the simple fact that Arash was the only one with an offensive Noble Phantasm among our group, even I had to acknowledge that we were massively outmatched. If any of them had an Anti-Army Noble Phantasm? Or worse, if more than one of them did? We were fucked, completely and utterly.

Even if they didn't, none of our Servants was suited for close range combat, let alone against multiple opponents at once. If they had enough frontline fighters to our ranged fighter and two supports, they wouldn't even need Anti-Army Noble Phantasms, they could just close in and pick us off with sheer numbers.

That wasn't even considering if they brought an army of wyverns with them.

If, if, if. Too many fucking ifs, not enough solid answers.

"Ritsuka, Rika, go!" I told them. "Get your stuff, get moving!"

"B-but the town!" Ritsuka protested.

They were going to burn it down, too, I realized. Massacre everyone here, like they had at Orléans. No, of course. Even if they were here for us, there was no way Jeanne Alter would pass up the chance to get yet more revenge against France.

And there was nothing we could do about it, was there? Unless…

I glanced to Arash, brow furrowing.

We had just summoned him. I had just summoned him. He'd been with us barely a week, and I hadn't seen him fight anything more dangerous than the animals he hunted for us on the road here.

But if we could get the group to clump together, if the enemy Servants grouped up close enough to hit them all at once, then… That would be it, wouldn't it? Threat beaten, Singularity corrected, everything was said and done with a single Noble Phantasm.

All it would cost us was one good man who was technically already dead.

My right hand ached. My Command Spells throbbed, as though to remind me how easy it would be to force him, even if he resisted, and if I gave the order, I wasn't sure that he even would. Not when his Noble Phantasm itself was a crystallization of a moment of self-sacrifice.

It was the pragmatic thing. It was the correct choice, as a matter of ending this whole thing as quickly and efficiently as possible. Three years ago, I didn't think I would have flinched to make it.

But did that make it the right choice?

"I know how you feel, but there's nothing you can do for them!" Romani replied.

"We'll do what we can for them, but this is already going to be a fighting retreat," I said. "Ritsuka, Rika, Mash, Arash, Jeanne — our job will be to occupy the enemy Servants long enough for as many people as possible to evacuate. We'll draw their attention away from the town and disappear into the forest."

And if the opportunity to finish them all off with Arash's Noble Phantasm presented itself… I'd make the decision on what to do about it then.

"S-Senpai!" Ritsuka gasped.

"It's the best we can do!" I snapped at him. "If we had more Servants —"

I shut my mouth before I could say something I regretted, like implying Arash was useless. It wouldn't help anything, and especially not unit cohesion.

"Go, get your stuff," I ordered instead. "Romani, how long do we have?"

"Not long!" he replied. "M-maybe…thirty seconds? They're approaching fast, but it's more like a speeding car than a jet plane!"

Finally, finally, the twins jolted into action, almost stumbling over themselves as they raced off to the rooms they'd been let borrow to retrieve whatever bits or bobs they'd left in there. With them out of the way, I turned to Mash.

"Mash —"

But she'd predicted me; in a flash, she had transformed, clad in armor once more, although I still thought it looked skimpy and pretty useless. At least it protected her chest.

"I'm ready, Miss Taylor."

Arash, next.

"Arash —"

"I'll set up in the bell tower," he said, "and keep an eye out for our uninvited guests."

"Jeanne," I finished, turning to her last, "keep that disguise as long as you can."

"I won't shy away from my evil self," she told me firmly.

There was no time to argue, no matter how stupid or misguided I thought it was.

"Just don't rush in to face her!"

With that last bit taken care of, I raced back to my own room to pick up the pack of supplies we'd been carrying on our journey here. Or one of them, at least. It was much lighter than it had been when we'd set off, but that didn't mean it was useless enough to leave behind.

Ritsuka and Rika had made it back by the time I did, pale and a little shaky, but they seemed wide awake, now. The adrenaline of the moment had woken them up the rest of the way the same as it had me, but the crash later was definitely not going to be pretty for anyone.

I turned to my communicator. "Romani —"

Master! Arash's voice interrupted.

A piercing scream from outside rang out before he could go any further, and Jeanne's face contorted with surprise. She didn't wait a second longer — before my eyes, she vanished, a gust of wind chasing after her.

Shit.

"There's no time," I told the twins. "Go!"

They didn't fight me or protest. Together, we raced out of the living quarters and from the Notre Dame into the street, and as we went, I reached out into my swarm to try and get an idea of the situation. To the east, there was nothing unusual, except the people now running that way to escape, but to the west, across the Loire river —

A dragon, a wyvern, fell from the sky maybe thirty feet from us, startling both the twins and Mash, who jumped to put herself between it and us. She needn't have bothered. Two arrows jutted out of one of its eyes, buried almost up to the fletching, and six more were embedded much shallower into its neck. If it wasn't already dead, it would be very shortly.

"Th-that's…!" Rika stuttered.

Good job, I sent back to Arash.

He didn't reply, but I saw another volley of arrows shoot across the sky towards another wyvern that my bugs were tracking. Several of them lodged themselves into its scales without even drawing blood, but several more sank into the crevices between them and found vulnerable flesh as the beast reared back in pain.

Against my will, I was impressed. At closer range, I probably could have managed a shot like that, using some of my old tricks. But to manage such pinpoint precision from so far away, with a bow and arrows instead of a bullet? I was beginning to understand that Servants weren't just massively superhuman in terms of speed or strength, but that they were utterly superhuman in terms of their skills, as well.

"Where did Jeanne go?" Ritsuka asked loudly.

"I don't think we can afford to wait for her, Master," Mash said.

I didn't say anything as I searched for her myself, spreading out my swarm to find the telltale scent of the chemical dye in her hair. As the only person in the whole country right now who had that modern hair dye, she should have been relatively easy to find.

"Ha!"

Of course, it turned out to be completely unnecessary, because it wasn't at all easy to miss the blonde-haired woman in armor jumping fifty feet into the air to slam the haft of a rolled banner into one wyvern's head. It was even harder to miss her riding it down to the ground until its neck snapped under her and then standing up as though nothing was amiss.

"Whoa," said Rika.

But as though they were white blood cells detecting an infection, the other wyverns turned from what they were doing — from setting buildings on fire, from crashing through brick and wood, from swooping down to claw at whichever unfortunate soul happened to capture their attention — and started to converge on Jeanne's position. They made directly for her like they were being drawn in by some kind of magnet.

Arash predicted me before I could even make the order, and he shot salvos of lightning fast arrows towards every wyvern that he could see from his perch. One after the other, his targets dropped from the sky, crashing through buildings and blocking the roads. A few of them disappeared beneath the surface of the river with a titanic splash.

It was a drop of water in a bucket. Even as he killed them, there were so many more that it didn't seem to make a difference at all.

Jeanne took a deep breath —

"I am Jeanne d'Arc!" she shouted, and her voice carried over the screams of the fleeing townsfolk. "I am the woman they named the Maid of Orléans! I am she who saw King Charles crowned! I am the one they burned at Rouen! As a servant of God, I have returned from beyond death itself to protect the good people of France!"

What the fuck was she doing?

"You, foul devil who claims to seek revenge and wears my name, present yourself before me, for I name you a charlatan and a deceiver!"

The crowd of wyverns shuddered, stuttered, and then, slowly, they began retreating, pulling away from the beeline they'd been making towards her as Jeanne stood strong, triumphant over the body of the one she'd killed. From above, five more descended, and I knew immediately who and what they carried without even having to look.

The five enemy Servants.

I got a better look as they came closer. The two on the left were both pale and white-haired, almost sickly looking. One was a man, dressed in fine, black clothing of rich make that gave him the air of a prince or a lord. He carried a spear. The woman next to him was full-bodied and looked like someone had crossed a noblewoman with a dominatrix, although the stark red of her gown contrasted her pasty white skin.

The other two on the right — my right, that was — were in complete contrast. The first was a woman, long, dark-haired, dressed in a fetishized version of a knightly tabard and carrying a heavy staff whose end was fashioned into a crucifix. Her companion was…effeminate, but androgynous, with a slender frame and clothing that looked like it came right out of The Three Musketeers, complete with a fluffy feather stuck in a wide-brimmed hat.

And in the center of this line was, incredibly…

"Two Jeannes?" Ritsuka muttered.

Yes, another Jeanne d'Arc. Identical from the shape of her face to her hair to the armor that looked as though it had been stained black by soot. She looked as though she could have stepped right out of the pyre that had killed her.

The important difference was in their demeanors, the way they held themselves. Our Jeanne, standing on the ground, was a gallant figure, upright and righteous. The Jeanne riding the wyvern was the exact opposite, because her expression was cruel and twisted, and the air she gave off that I felt even from that distance was dark and malevolent.

For an instant, she reminded me of Jack Slash.

"W-whoa," Rika gasped, "that's so freaky! She really is Jeanne Alter!"

"Don't be silly!" her brother chided her.

The Jeanne atop the wyvern, Jeanne Alter, looked down at us from her mount, and the instant she saw her counterpart, she broke out into laughter. Cackling peals rained down upon the stillness of the town, high pitched and almost stereotypically evil.

"What," she rasped out between laughs, "what nonsense is this?"

"So," our Jeanne said stoically, "it's true, then."

"This, this is too much!" Jeanne Alter guffawed. She turned around to look behind her. "Gilles! Gilles, look! Where is Gilles? He just has to see this!"

Jeanne hesitated. "Gilles?"

"Oh. Yes, that's right. Gilles stayed behind." Jeanne Alter giggled, still grinning. "What a farce this is. What lunacy. This joke is so poor that I might just die laughing. To think, France is so pathetic that it still clings to me like a child at her mother's skirts, even after they betrayed me!"

As they talked, I turned narrowed eyes on the assembled group and tried to measure the distance between each of them. Just from looking, it was already larger than I would have hoped, which meant it was far too likely that Arash would miss, if he tried to get them all at once. At least one of them would escape, which was a problem when we had no idea where the Grail pinning this Singularity in place was or who held it.

I looked at Jeanne Alter suspiciously.

In Fuyuki, the Grail had been held by Saber, who had been corrupted by whatever had originally formed the Singularity. A "Saber Alter," as it were. Now, a Jeanne who had been somehow corrupted was standing — flying, whatever — above us. A "Jeanne Alter," as we had taken to calling her.

Would the enemy really be that confident, that brazen, that stupid that they would deliver it right to us?

"Who are you?" Jeanne demanded. "Why do you have my face and my name?"

Arash, I sent his way, if you used your Noble Phantasm, could you take out all of them at once?

He hesitated a moment. He must have, because it took a few seconds for him to reply.

Maybe, Master, but I can't guarantee it. Not without knowing what to expect of the enemies' Noble Phantasms.

"What a useless question!" Jeanne Alter snickered. "I'm Jeanne d'Arc, of course! The saint who raised France from defeat and lifted the siege at Orléans!"

"Saint?" Jeanne repeated, disgusted. "What nonsense are you spouting? You're no more saint than I am!"

If we couldn't risk his Noble Phantasm without knowing what their defenses looked like…

What about a volley of regular arrows? How many could you fire at once?

His response was immediate and matter-of-fact. Ten-thousand.

My mouth twitched and my eyebrows rose just the slightest, the only signs of my surprise.

But it would take me a moment to prepare, Master.

"That's not important, though!" Jeanne shouted. "No… No, more importantly… At Orléans, you slaughtered the whole city! You killed King Charles and all the members of his court! And now, you've come here to do the same! Why? Why are you attacking the very people I fought to save?"

I think you might have that moment, I told him. Get ready. Try and focus down. Jeanne Alter is the most important target, but get her army of wyverns if you can.

Understood, Master.


"Shouldn't it be obvious?" Jeanne Alter asked with a malicious grin. "I'm going to carve a crest of blood across all of France, until the streets run red and not a single living soul remains!"

She cackled.

"Such is the will of God!"
— o.0.O.O.0.o —​
FMA reference, get.

Before everyone jumps in to talk about how, "Actually, Stella blocked a shot from Rhongomyniad," let me stop you right there: sure, it did that in canon. Taylor doesn't know that. Keep that in mind for next chapter, too.

Also, Arash's Clairvoyance skill is really vague. It lets him see through Bedivere, but the skill description is the stock one that implies precognition, and precognition means there are a couple of things in Camelot that shouldn't have happened the way they did if Arash could see them coming.

If you're frustrated by the travel times and wondering why the group doesn't just hop on their Servants' backs, I feel you. Taylor kinda addresses this later and says, "Yeah, it's a stupid rule, I think we have stop following it."

Special thanks to everyone who has helped me out, and especially to all my Patrons who have stayed with me this far, through all the rocky moments and dry stretches. You guys are the best, and your continued support is invaluable.
If you like what you're reading and want to support me as a writer so I can pay the bills, I have a Patreon. If Patreon is too long term, I have a Ko-fi page, too. If you want to commission something from me, check out either my Deviantart post or my artist registry page for my rates. Links in my sig. Every little bit helps keep me afloat, even if you can only afford a couple dollars.
Next — Chapter XVII: Dragon Witch
 
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Chapter XVII: Dragon Witch
Chapter XVII: Dragon Witch

"Y-you!" Jeanne gasped, and for the first time since we'd met, she seemed not determined or merely angry, but utterly and completely furious. "How dare you! To claim that this…this barbarism, this cruelty…that this is the will of God!"

"Is it not?" Jeanne Alter smirked. "I no longer hear the voice of the Lord. To have been called back from beyond death and set upon this country, and yet God no longer speaks to me, is that not evidence itself that He no longer blesses this country?"

"What madness has possessed you to think such lunacy!" Jeanne snarled at her doppelganger.

"Madness?" Jeanne Alter sneered. "It's this country that has gone mad, not me! It's you who has gone mad! They betrayed me, they turned their backs on me, they spat upon me! I delivered them salvation in accordance with the Lord's will, and now that they have fallen from His grace, I'll destroy them in accordance with His wrath and His grief!"

Jeanne's fist trembled, clenched so tight that her gauntlet creaked.

"I wasn't certain before, but now I'm sure," she said lowly. "You… There's no way you're me."

Jeanne Alter laughed. "Shouldn't that be my line, you country bumpkin? Any human should understand exactly what I'm saying! Any human being would feel the way I feel and come to the conclusions I have! If you can't understand why I am the way I am, then you're not a human, you're just a phantom! A ghost, a fragment, an image of me cast in the ideal of a saint who piously protects France!"

She drew her sword with a long, metallic rasp.

"Yes, I know what you are, now! You're the scum I scraped off the bottom of my boot! You're nothing more than the residue of my discarded leftovers! You're neither a Ruler Servant nor Jeanne d'Arc, you're just the unnecessary bits of myself I got rid of!"

Jeanne's shoulders shook. At first, I wasn't sure if it was despair or anger, because just based on my experience with people, it was more tempting to agree with her other self. We were all ugly and horrible, deep down, selfish creatures that lashed out when hurt and jealously guarded the things we cared about, even at the expense of everyone else.

And then she opened her mouth. "No, it's exactly the opposite! The woman known as Jeanne d'Arc… I had all of those feelings! I was angry, I was wrathful, I was spiteful and opinionated! That's why…those were the things I had to cast away in order to save France!"

She brandished her flag.

"I had to be better than my human frailties!" she said, with such conviction in her voice that I thought I must at last be seeing the woman who had led the battle against the English. "I had to be pious and upright, that the people of France could take heart and know that we were not beaten! I had to become more than a simple farm girl who had never held a sword in her life and knew nothing of the arts of war! I couldn't be moved by such petty things as my baser instincts and emotions!"

I'm ready, Master, Arash reported.

I made sure not to show it on my face. Not the slightest smile or the smallest smirk. Wait until I say.

Jeanne pointed the spiked tip at her counterpart. "You are all those things that I had to give up! You're nothing more than my lingering regrets and grudges, given form!"

Jeanne Alter snarled. "I'll show you who's real, you bitch! Berserk Lancer, Berserk Assassin!" The aristocrat and the dominatrix shifted, so that must've been them. "Rip her to pieces! Remove this ugly eyesore from my sight!"

The aristocrat's face broke out into a pearly grin, and the dominatrix's lips curled with a sadistic smirk. The one lifted his lance, and the other materialized a heavy, metal staff topped with a winged figure that might vaguely be called draconic.

There wasn't going to be a better moment than this.

Now! I commanded, and something shifted as Arash let loose his ten-thousand arrows. The air howled. The sky opened up and dropped down upon the world. All at once, they came, an endless torrent as inevitable and inexorable as the tide.

At one point, way back in my Skitter days, Alec had dragged the whole team into movie night and sat us all down to watch a cheesy action flick from Aleph, called 300. As a dramatized recreation of the Battle of Thermopylae, I'd rated it a 4 for historical accuracy and privately rated it a 6 for all of the shirtless hunks in loincloths. There were some things that hot men in revealing clothes just couldn't fix.

As Arash's arrows rained down from above, at that moment, a line from that cheesy movie came back to me:

Our arrows will blot out the sun.

The special effects from the movie…actually looked a lot like what I was seeing, now. Ten-thousand arrows — that number seemed enormous, but you couldn't appreciate the scale of something like that until you saw it yourself. Until you saw them rise into the sky and come back down, black dots growing larger and larger as their sheer number cast a long shadow over everything beneath them.

Watching it, I was certain that even Cúchulainn wouldn't have been able to dodge them all, even with his Protection from Arrows skill. At a certain point, the utterly ridiculous quantity had to overwhelm even as celebrated a hero as that.

Even a towering monolith could be brought low if you swarmed her with enough numbers.

Jeanne Alter screamed, lifting a hand up as though to shield herself from the incoming barrage. Like that would have been enough. No, we didn't even need Arash's Noble Phantasm if he could just fire off this many arrows like this. What enemy could muster a defense against what might as well have been an Anti-Army Noble Phantasm all on its own?

The woman in the fetish tabard, apparently.

She raised her staff towards the sky and the falling arrows, she opened her mouth, and she shouted one word towards the heavens.

"Tarasque!"

And above their heads, large enough to cover all of them at once, an enormous tortoise-like shell shimmered into existence, covered across the back with huge, wicked spikes that jutted out in every direction.

"Then we will fight in the shade," Rika mumbled, and my face twisted into a complicated expression.

For once, I was glad I didn't have time to unpack that, right then.

I knew before the arrows even hit that they wouldn't break through. Not against the deployment of an actual Noble Phantasm. We'd just missed our best chance to end this whole thing in one swoop, and now we were on the backfoot. We'd lost the element of surprise.

And sure enough, even against so many coming down, the woman's defense held, and Arash's arrows bent, bounced, and broke against the hardened surface, skidded off the spikes, and sometimes just plain shattered into sparks of light.

On the bright side, that shell might have been big, but it was barely big enough to cover the enemy Servants, and it most certainly wasn't big enough to protect the army of wyverns that hovered behind them, neatly lined up and waiting for orders. They had no Noble Phantasm defending them as Arash's barrage came down, nothing but their scales, and that proved not enough. The arrows tore through wings, sank through flesh, pierced eye and scale alike, and under that rain, they fell, crashing to the ground with thunderous thuds drowned out only by the staccato of the arrows landing.

When it was over and the last arrow landed, Jeanne Alter turned a furious gaze towards the church and the bell tower, snarling out, "You!"

She lifted her sword as though to race forward and run him through, but I didn't waste any time; just as the barrage petered out and ended, I lifted up my arms and my swarm arose, a single, droning mass of black and brown easily enough to outnumber Arashs' arrows a thousand times over. They came up as a wall of chitin and wings, interposing themselves between our enemies and us, and I turned immediately and grabbed the twins by one wrist each.

"Come on!" I urged them.

"Wha — Senpai!" said Ritsuka.

"Wait!" Rika cried.

"Miss Taylor!"

"There's no time!"

Arash, I thought at him, retreat!

A blur leapt out of the bell tower, and even as he did, a wash of flame cut into my swarm, frying some of my bugs, but it was no use, because my swarm was almost twice as large as it would have been in modern France. Just the complete lack of pesticides had swollen their ranks past even my best from back in my days as a cape.

The twins, once I got them started, picked up the idea and ran on their own, so I let them go and ordered, "To the forest! Go, go!"

Mash followed behind them, sparing me a worried glance as she passed, and I made to bring up the rear — but there was one person still left behind, and when I turned to look, she was standing there, staring up at the swarm and the gouts of flame that were making quick work of it.

Fucking pyrokinetics. They'd been screwing with me ever since my first night out.

"Jeanne!" I shouted at her. "We need to get out of here!"

She looked at me, hesitated, looked back at her evil self, and then turned away and started to run.

Turning her back on her dark reflection, it must have tasted like the bitterest of defeats.

We raced towards the treeline in the distance, and between my pace and Jeanne keeping slightly behind me, we caught up with the twins and Mash in short order. We'd made it halfway there when something suddenly bulldozed its way through my swarm, swiftly making it towards us at a speed that could only make it one thing.

"Shit!"

Jeanne and I both spun around, and the sheer force of the collision as a black blur slammed into her sent me flying back and tumbling ass over teakettle. Through the sparser collection of bugs I'd kept closer by, I made out one of the enemy Servants, the aristocrat with the spear, even as I righted myself and pulled myself to my feet. Jeanne had managed to block him with the shaft of her flag.

Back in town, Jeanne Alter was quickly whittling down the swarm, and it was only a matter of time until she'd thinned it out enough to give pursuit. We couldn't afford to sit here and fuck around with the aristocrat, not unless we could guarantee a kill.

Arash!

As though he'd predicted my thoughts, an arrow whistled over my head and towards the aristocrat, but he dodged it, leaning out of the way. Jeanne gave a shout and swung her flag, flinging him back a paltry dozen feet or so.

It was enough room for Arash to fire another arrow, and then another and another, not a barrage like before but a series of consecutive shots that forced the aristocrat to deflect them with the shaft of his own spear. I didn't know how long either of them could keep it up, but I had the nasty suspicion that Arash would run out of arrows and have to restock before the aristocrat slipped up and took one someplace inconvenient.

So I told him, Wait for an opening, a guaranteed hit. We don't need to kill him, we just need him injured enough for long enough for us to escape.

Abruptly, the arrows stopped, and the aristocrat — Berserk Lancer, apparently — rushed forward to fill the space they'd opened and attacked Jeanne, jabbing at her with the business end of his lance. She scrambled to defend herself, and if it hadn't been obvious before, it was now, as I watched them, that whatever the reason behind her decreased performance, it was severely impacting her ability to fight. He was going to overwhelm her eventually, one way or another.

I palmed one of the runestones Cúchulainn had left us in Fuyuki and eyed the aristocrat, squinting at his stats and skills with the Master's Clairvoyance provided by Chaldea. Magic Resistance B. My lips twitched. It wasn't even worth trying.

"Miss Jeanne!" Mash's voice called out, and moving so fast that the bugs I had attached to her were ripped off completely, she leapt over my head, hefted her massive shield, and with a warcry, brought it down on the aristocrat.

The aristocrat — Lancer, because that was honestly easier to keep track of in my head — dodged out of the way, and the bottom of Mash's shield crashed into the spot he'd just occupied. Mash didn't wait for him to come back around. She lifted her shield back up and kicked off the ground, eating up the distance between them effortlessly.

She was moving better now than she had in Fuyuki, I noted as I watched her engage Lancer. A little more graceful, a little less clumsy, not as much in the way of wasted movement or overextending her attacks. Was it just a matter of her attuning to the Heroic Spirit that slumbered inside her, or was she actually learning how to fight that quickly?

Lancer struck back with his spear, equally as quick and twice as elegant. There was a smoothness to his attacks that Mash still lacked, although even so, he couldn't land a clean hit. Like Medusa before him, Mash's shield was just too sturdy a defense and too large to operate around.

I recognized the distraction for what it was. I didn't know if the twins planned to summon Mash back with a Command Spell, but if that was their plan, then it was actually fairly decent, since they had six Command Spells between them.

I seized the moment and ran back to Jeanne, wrapping one hand around the cold steel of her gauntlet. She turned to me, blonde hair whipping against her cheeks.

"Come on," I said. "We need to get out of here."

She looked back towards the fight.

"But Mash…"

"Will be fine," I cut across her. "She's buying time for us to escape. The twins can get her after we've left."

She hesitated for a moment longer, and then nodded, and we raced off again, heading for the treeline. In the distance, the bugs I'd left on the twins hovered just out of plain sight, waiting for us in the forest.

"Have you gone soft, Dracul?"

Jeanne gasped, and she wrenched me backwards so suddenly that she almost pulled my arm out of its socket. A bare instant later, faster than I could blink, the dominatrix, Berserk Assassin, appeared in front of her. Jeanne's flag and Assassin's staff collided so swiftly and with such force it was as though they were magnetized.

"It's not befitting such a monster," Assassin purred, yellow eyes gleaming, "to go so easy on such a tiny waif of a girl like that."

My brain skidded over the word like a record scratch.

Dracul.

Several bugs sought him out, tried to land, but he was moving too fast and his swings were too strong. Those that got close enough were either blown away by the force behind his blows or else died outright.

Was he…? If I squinted, maybe it fit. He certainly looked the part of the legend, rather than the man. I could imagine him stalking through the streets of London or welcoming Jonathon Harker into his home with an unsettling smile, gracious and yet so subtly wrong.

Dracul. Dracula. There weren't many other Heroic Spirits, if any at all, who had such a connection to that name. Vlad the Impaler had planted the seed, and Bram Stoker had made it grow. There was no one else I could think of that would be referred to that way.

But for someone like that to have been summoned here, in the service of Jeanne Alter… No, I suppose that actually made a whole lot of sense, didn't it? Who else would be so appropriate an attack dog than one of the most vicious warlords in history, so much so to have spawned the legend of bloodsucking monsters in popular media even hundreds of years later?

"Well, no matter," said Assassin. "It means I have the two of you all to myself. Your blood, so young and virile, will only make me all the more beautiful."

"You sicken me," Jeanne spat.

Assassin leaned forward, chuckling low beneath her breath. "My dear, you say that as though I haven't been hearing it all my life."

Right. This nutjob needed to be handled, too.

I squinted at her with my Master's Clairvoyance, and a surge of triumph jolted through my gut.

No Magic Resistance for you, bitch, I thought viciously.

One of Cúchulainn's runestones found its way into my hand. In my head, the image of a silk thread snapping resounded, and my magic circuits whirred into activity.

"Jeanne," I shouted as I wound back my arm, "close your eyes!"

It said something about her that she trusted me enough to listen, turning her face away from Assassin, as I flung the runestone between them like a grenade. I squeezed my eyes shut and threw my arm over them to protect them.

"Anfang!"

Assassin screeched as the runestone flashed with light that was, for a short moment, brighter than the sun, reeling back as she clawed at her face.

Another Master might have let her go. An inexperienced Master might have prioritized escaping over the elimination of an enemy combatant. They weren't necessarily the wrong choices, and if we'd just had Mash and Jeanne, I would've run for all I was worth while I had the chance.

Not here. Not now.

Arash, take her down!

A bevy of arrows loosed from the treeline, and Assassin gasped as they sank into her back with several, meaty thuds. One, two, three, four — an even dozen in total, all of them center mass, all of them targeting something vital and vitally important.

I didn't need the spurt of blood that gushed from her mouth to know that at least one of those was a killshot.

"Y-you…" Assassin rasped breathlessly as red trickled down her lips.

Whatever she'd been about to say was lost. One, final arrow came from the trees, and it scythed through Assassin's neck, bursting through her throat just under her chin. The metal tip glinted.

It was becoming more and more obvious that I'd underestimated Arash pretty badly. He wasn't a dragonslayer, that was true. He wasn't a frontline fighter who could take on the enemy Servants while Mash defended his flanks. He couldn't effortlessly mow down every dragon, every wyvern, that we came across.

But thinking that any of those things made him useless was absolutely wrong, and as someone who had wielded something as weak as bugs effectively enough to kill the woman everyone thought was unkillable, I should have known better.

Assassin collapsed like a puppet with its strings cut, and her body vanished before she even hit the ground, disappearing into motes of blue light. It felt a little anticlimactic to have defeated one of the enemy's Servants that quickly in the first encounter, but I wasn't going to complain that we'd eliminated one of the threats arrayed against us.

I rolled back to my feet and took off again for the trees. "Go!"

Jeanne startled, but she followed my lead without hesitation. "Y-yes!"

Back in town, my swarm was starting to thin. Jeanne Alter was really the only one who could kill them with any speed, but that just meant she was killing them too quickly. My swarm was massive, bigger than it had ever been, yes, but that didn't make the bugs in it any less vulnerable to fire or extreme heat.

As the treeline loomed ahead, I turned my attention back towards Mash and Lancer to find nothing had really changed. We were running out of time for her to disengage, and Lancer didn't look like he had any intention of letting her take a breath long enough to escape.

There were a couple of different ways… But if we could avoid spending any Command Spells if we didn't have to, that would be better. And the way Assassin had been killed gave me a few ideas.

Arash, I sent his way, are you ready?

What did you have in mind, Master?
Arash asked back.

That tight spacing you did against Assassin — if you had a clean shot, could you do the same thing to Lancer?

I could almost imagine the smirk curling at the corner of his mouth. If you can get me that clean shot, Master, I can handle the rest.

Feet pounding the ground, I pivoted on my heel, turned around, and as I gathered as big a swarm as I could from the surrounding grass, I opened my mouth and shouted, "Mash, get out of the way!"

Mash blocked Lancer's next blow, and then she kicked off the ground and threw herself to the side. Lancer made to follow and chase after her, but at the same moment, a cloud of harmless bugs buzzed up and in his face, and he let out a startled yell, jerking back.

Another dozen arrows flew out of the trees, and Dracul was in no shape to avoid them. They each landed, twelve perfect shots that hit center mass on his chest, just like they had Assassin. Killshots, a number of them. Debilitating even for those that weren't.

And without even pausing, Lancer reached down and yanked them all out, one by one, brackish blood spurting out from each wound. My eyebrows rose towards my hairline and my mouth dropped open.

Furiously, I checked his stats again, and something dreadful squirmed in my gut as my mind landed on one of his skills, one that made fighting him a lot more problematic than I'd been expecting.

Battle Continuation A. The ability to take even terrible wounds and keep fighting. To take an arrow to the heart, to the stomach, to the lung, and still advance like nothing had happened.

Then, before my eyes, the blood leaking from Dracul's wounds rose into the air and lashed out in tendrils, like tentacles, spearing through my bugs with unerring accuracy until I felt every single one of them slip from my control. Dead.

I could only watch as the bugs he'd speared melted into slurry and got absorbed into the tendrils of blood, and as they sank back inside of his body, disappearing into his wounds that sealed up behind them, two more unknowns cleared up in the mind's eye of my Master's Clairvoyance.

Vampirism A. Kazikli Bey.

The ability to recover vitality and energy by sucking others' blood, and the Noble Phantasm of Vlad III, twisted by the legend of Dracula. Combined with his Battle Continuation, the only way to kill him would be to obliterate him all at once, to deal so much damage in a single attack that there was no way for him to recover.

"Mash, get out of there!" I screamed.

It was like facing an Endbringer. The sheer, destructive power wasn't on the same level, and the raw durability wasn't anywhere close. But every wound he inflicted and every kill he made would rejuvenate him, and he could survive and recover from just about anything that didn't kill him outright. And if he came in range, he could pierce through our defenses with a Noble Phantasm that turned his entire body into a weapon, from his hair to his bones to the meanest drop of blood.

It wasn't the best comparison. Maybe Alabaster was a better one, in some ways, and Crawler in others, but it was the one my brain made.

Mash hesitated for the barest fraction of a second, and then she started to make her retreat. I didn't give Dracul any chance to follow her — I pulled every bug I could from the surrounding area, not just from the grass this time, but from the trees and the bushes and their boltholes in the ground, regardless of what they were or what use they could be, regardless of how few there were, and I set them upon him, knowing already that it was pointless at best and feeding him at worst.

There wasn't anything else to do. Something like that, we couldn't hope to beat him, right now.

"Arash, covering fire!"

Arrows shot forth from the treeline with perfect accuracy, but Dracul wasn't bothered by them in the least. With lazy swings, he knocked them from the air, or else he stepped to the side or back, avoiding them entirely. I watched him, unblinking, the whole way, until Mash made it past the treeline and into the cover of the foliage. Only then did I turn away and follow.

The instant we'd all made it, I pulled the tattered remnants of the swarm occupying Jeanne Alter and her other three Servants away from distraction duty and spread them out, blanketing the entire field we'd just crossed and as much of the town that was still within reach in a writhing, droning mass of chitin. It wasn't as thick a cloud as I would have liked it to be, but it was still thick enough that those in the group without some sort of extrasensory ability wouldn't be able to track us as we fled.

The twins and Jeanne were waiting for us, pale-faced and nervous.

"Senpai," Rika greeted me.

"We need to get out of here," I said without preamble. Arash landed beside me almost as though to punctuate that statement.

"That wave of bugs, I assume that was your doing?" Jeanne asked. It sounded more like an accusation.

I still hadn't figured out how I was going to explain that. A part of me wondered why I even had to, like being able to control bugs was somehow a strange and unusual magic that defied all orthodoxy. I'd seen some pretty ridiculous powers in my career as a cape, but just what little I knew of magecraft was enough that I was perfectly aware of exactly how bullshit that could get, too.

They could build a wish-granting perpetual motion engine. I controlled bugs, why was I the weird one?

"Not now," I said instead. "That won't keep them busy for too long, and we need to be gone when they get past it. Jeanne, you said Lyon was the next place we should go?"

"Yes," she answered immediately, although the set of her brow told me we weren't done with my bugs, just yet. "There are other villages between here and there that we could stop at, if we don't take a straight route there, but it should be our next destination."

I remembered that we'd originally been discussing it in terms of investigating her evil self and figuring out motives for this destruction, but that wasn't exactly necessary anymore, was it? Jeanne Alter had told us exactly what she was doing and why. Putting more into investigating the rhymes and reasons was pointless.

But our best lead on our potential dragonslayer was simply "down south." A major population center like Lyon was as good a place to start looking for that as any other. Better, even, because it should get travelers from across the region instead of just localized tradesmen.

I nodded. "Then we'll go there. Mash," I turned to her, "lead the way."

She hesitated and turned to the twins, but Ritsuka gave her a nod, and her expression firmed.

"Please follow me, everyone," she said, and then she turned and started off deeper into the woods, fast enough to be called a speedy retreat but still slow enough for us mere humans to keep up.

Behind us, as we put distance between us and La Charité, my swarm spread out and dispersed, forming vague blobs big enough to contain all of us that made off in every other direction but ours. Whether that worked or not, either way, it didn't look like Jeanne Alter and her Servants intended to chase us down.

The smirk on Dracul's face as he watched us run away was going to stay with me the whole night through.
— o.0.O.O.0.o —​
Sorry, Carmilla. You don't have any plot armor, so you really could die just like that.

Dracul really is kinda terrifying as an opponent, especially when you don't have a "fuck everything in that general direction" Noble Phantasm to take him out all in one go. This isn't the last we'll be seeing him.

Also, whoever made that 300 reference (you know who you are), this just proves that yes, you had the appropriate pop culture reference in mind, because remember, I wrote this over a month ago.

Special thanks to everyone who has helped me out, and especially to all my Patrons who have stayed with me this far, through all the rocky moments and dry stretches. You guys are the best, and your continued support is invaluable.
If you like what you're reading and want to support me as a writer so I can pay the bills, I have a Patreon. If Patreon is too long term, I have a Ko-fi page, too. If you want to commission something from me, check out either my Deviantart post or my artist registry page for my rates. Links in my sig. Every little bit helps keep me afloat, even if you can only afford a couple dollars.
Next — Chapter XVIII: Dragonslayer
 
Chapter XVIII: Dragonslayer
Chapter XVIII: Dragonslayer

As the town of La Charité disappeared in the distance, no longer visible through the foliage, we kept running. Our panting breaths and the pounding of our feet on the ground formed a soundtrack to our sprint, as though to keep driving us forward towards the city of Lyon that lay in the far distance. Like we could reach it over the crest of the next hill or beyond the next copse of trees, forever just out of reach.

We didn't stop. Long after even the field we'd crossed to reach the forest had disappeared from the range of my control, we were still going, racing as far away as we could as fast as our legs would carry us. My legs burned, my lungs ached, sweat dripped down my head and my shirt, but none of us dared to stop for even a second.

The twins, to my surprise, didn't complain or even really slow down as we went. Whether they'd been trying to build up endurance in Chaldea's gym while I wasn't looking, I didn't know. Maybe I was just giving them too much credit, though. When it came to pushing past your limits and going farther than you'd ever thought you could, adrenaline was a hell of a drug.

Eventually, something had to give. Half our party was still human, and two thirds of it was still living and breathing instead of a materialized ghost. Perhaps somewhat expectedly, the twins burnt out first and stumbled to a stop, their legs trembling and their chests heaving as they gulped down air.

I wasn't all that much better. Less winded, because I was more used to this sort of thing, but it wasn't like I could sprint all out and not even break a sweat. Even Mash was huffing and puffing a little.

"Did we lose them?" Ritsuka asked breathlessly.

"No enemy Servants detected, Sen-Senpai," Mash answered.

"It doesn't look like they're chasing us," I said.

Why, I couldn't have said. After all, we'd killed one of Jeanne Alter's Servants. That was one more Servant she didn't have to fight for her, to help her burn down the country. Shouldn't that have put us higher up on her shitlist? More of a threat? If it had been me in her place, losing one of what was for all intents and purposes my generals would definitely have had me focus on the one who had done it.

Then again, even at my worst, I couldn't imagine burning down an entire fucking country on some roaring rampage of revenge, so maybe wondering why a pyromaniac nutjob wasn't making a rational decision wasn't a good question to ask.

Or maybe…

The thought sent a shiver of dread down my spine.

Maybe the reason why Jeanne Alter wasn't concerned about the loss of a single Servant was because she could just keep summoning more. She'd had four with her, after all. Four Servants that she took out to burn down a relatively minor town, backed up by an army of wyverns, and just by the way she'd reacted to us, she hadn't expected us to be there when she did it, either.

When the enemy could throw around that much force that casually… What did that say about what she could bring to bear if she seriously wanted to destroy us?

"What about the townsfolk?" Ritsuka asked.

"Ah…" Mash's face fell. "Senpai…I don't think…"

"Most of them managed to evacuate," I told him.

His expression lifted hopefully.

"Most?" Rika asked, voice somber.

Her brother's hopeful expression faltered.

There was no way to break this news delicately. Romani might have preferred if I told them a pretty little lie and said that everyone made it out unscathed and it would all be sunshine and rainbows, but even if I agreed not to burden them too much too quickly, hiding the truth like that wouldn't help out anyone, and eventually, they'd realize I'd lied, anyway.

"We did what we could, but some people died before we could do anything," I told them. "Some people died from the wyverns. Some people were crushed by the wyverns' bodies when Arash shot them down."

"I did my best to put them out of the path of any bystanders," Arash added.

"Some people never made it out of their houses," I went on. "And some people got trampled on the way out of town or fell into the river."

And now for the part that none of them wanted to hear.

"Most of them… are probably going to die anyway."

The twins sucked in a sharp breath.

"Miss Taylor!" said Mash.

"No, she's right," Jeanne said miserably. "My other self… If she truly desires the destruction of France and all of its people, then she won't let them go."

"The smart ones will leave and go to another town nearby," I said. "Most of them… When Jeanne Alter leaves, they'll return to town, try to pick up and rebuild, and when she brings another army of wyverns to finish the job…"

They would all die just the same, as if we hadn't saved them in the first place.

"We have to go back!" Rika shouted. "We can't just leave them all to —"

"And do what?" I demanded. "Fight off five Servants and an army of wyverns with one Demi-Servant, one malfunctioning Ruler, and one Archer?"

Jeanne winced, but didn't protest the point.

"Four Servants," Ritsuka corrected, staring me straight in the eye with a determined look on his face. "Arash killed their Assassin."

"Five, minimum," I rebuked. I didn't back down. "If she doesn't already have more she can call on, then she can just summon another at her earliest convenience. Holy Grail, remember?"

"It can't be that easy." Ritsuka didn't back down, either. "Doctor Roman said that hooking the Grail we got from Fuyuki up to the power grid would let us support three more Servants. Jeanne Alter can't just summon as many as she wants."

Except that all appearances said that she could.

"You don't think," I began, trying not to sound like a condescending asshole, "that a Holy Grail, a legend born in France and connected to the Middle East, might be more powerful here, closer both geographically and culturally to the place it originated, than it was in the middle of a city in Japan?"

I gestured back the way we came and squashed the burgeoning guilt in my belly. I had to get through to these two, because as much as I hated it myself, there wasn't anything we could do for those people that wouldn't get us all killed ourselves.

"How many wyverns do you think she had, for that matter? Ten? Twenty? A hundred? More?"

"At least a thousand," Arash confirmed grimly.

"Four Servants as backup and an army of a thousand wyverns to burn down one little town when she didn't even know we were going to be there. How many would she have brought if she did know? How many can she bring?"

"We don't know," Mash mumbled.

"And worst of all," I finished off, "none of us can kill Dracul."

"I saw that," said Arash. "He shrugged off six fatal wounds like they were nothing."

"Battle Continuation, A-Rank," I said. "Vampirism, A-Rank. And if he gets close, Kazikli Bey, which turns his whole body into a weapon."

Hookwolf might actually have been a pretty good comparison, there, now that I thought about it.

"Kazikli Bey?" Ritsuka muttered, brow drawing together.

"His Noble Phantasm," I answered. "It weaponizes everything from his hair to his bones to his blood and turns them into 'stakes' that can pierce anyone in his range. He has to get pretty close to use it, but if he does, he can rip any one of us apart in an instant, and it would definitely kill each and every one of us."

The twins turned a little green. My lips pulled tight.

"The only way to kill him is to deal so much damage all at once that he dies immediately. None of us can do that."

I looked meaningfully at Arash. "None of us."

He nodded. Message received. No using his Noble Phantasm on Dracul. Good.

"We can't just leave them all to die, though!" Rika burst out. "S-Senpai! Why did we even save them if we're just going to let them all get killed! A-Aren't you the ultimate badass? You killed a dragon! You can do something, can't you?"

"No."

Her face fell. She must have been expecting me to pull some crazy plan out of my ass, but the simple fact of the matter was, there wasn't anything we could do about it. Not as we were.

"That's why we're headed to Lyon," I said. "If Jeanne Alter can just keep summoning wyverns and Servants willy-nilly, then we need more firepower. We need to see if there's any truth to the rumors about a great warrior down south. Lyon will give us a more solid heading."

I hoped. But I couldn't exactly seem so uncertain about it right then, could I? Rule one of being a leader: always look like you knew what you were doing, even when you were completely lost. There were a lot of things you could bullshit your way through just by being confident as you were doing it.

Beep-beep!

"Thank God, you're all okay," Romani breathed as he appeared. "I was a little worried… I-I mean, I knew you guys were going to make it through! After all, Taylor's the one leading you!"

My lip twitched. Yeah, really strong vote of confidence, Romani.

"I-I managed to confirm the disappearance of one of the enemy Servants' Spirit Origins," he went on. "Good job, everyone. That's one enemy down."

"With no guarantee they can't just summon more," I said.

"Urk." Romani blanched. "B-be that as it may, at least you guys managed to take out one of them! A-and anyway, I'm detecting a ley line nearby. You should be able to set up camp there while we plan out your next move."

"It's already been decided, Doctor Roman," said Mash. "We'll be heading to the city of Lyon, next."

Romani's brow furrowed. "Lyon?"

"There are rumors of a great warrior somewhere in southern France," Jeanne said. "Lyon would be a good place to look for more information."

"A great warrior…" he mumbled. "You think it might be a Servant?"

"We think so, yes," I said.

And hopefully, it was one of the dragonslayers who didn't show up for my summoning.

"Hang on, let me take a look."

"Wait, isn't that, like, super far away?" said Rika. "I thought you couldn't read Servants from that distance!"

"You guys are our main observation point, so we can get clearer readings the closer to you we look," Romani explained absently, looking at something away from the camera. "Within a mile, we can get details like Class, Alignment, and as you observe details with your Master's Clairvoyance, even things like True Names, Skills, and Noble Phantasms. But if we go further out than that, things start to get blurrier. If we can get a good enough look to detect a Servant at all, the only thing we'll be able to tell is whether there's a Servant in that general area. Well, unless it's a really powerful Servant, like a Grand, but there's no way you're going to run into one of those."

A minute of silence later, he blinked.

"Well, would you look at that," he said. "It's faint, but I'm definitely detecting the presence of a Servant in Lyon. I should be able to pin it down better once you're inside the city itself, but it's definitely worth checking out."

"Doctor Roman," said Ritsuka, "can you detect whether or not there are any Servants remaining at La Charité?"

Mash glanced at him sadly. "Senpai…"

"You're not that far away, so…" Romani trailed off for a moment, hands moving across his keyboard. "Yes. I'm still detecting a fairly strong Servant presence in La Charité. It's a bit difficult even from here, but given the data, it looks like multiple Servants are still there."

"And the townsfolk?" Ritsuka asked. "Can Chaldea detect vital signs from living humans in that range?"

Romani's hands stopped moving. "Don't do this to yourself, Ritsuka. It won't bring you any peace."

"We're leaving them behind!" Ritsuka barked. "The least we can do is acknowledge…!"

He looked down, angry, his fists clenched and trembling.

"If we couldn't even save them," he said roughly, "then the least we can do is acknowledge their loss."

Romani sighed. "On average," he said solemnly, "one-hundred-sixty-four-thousand people die every day."

Ritsuka's head jerked up, stricken.

"That's not how people work," I cut in. "Things like 'the whole world' or 'the entire country' are just too big. People deal better with the stuff right in front of them. It's more real. Solid."

"That's the point I'm trying to make," said Romani.

"What, that there are seven billion lives on the line?" I retorted. "People don't fight for seven billion. They fight for seven. For seventeen. Their friends, their family, the people they care about and the people in arm's reach. You fight for the guy next to you, and the guy next to you fights for the guy next to him, and eventually, everyone is fighting for everyone."

I looked Ritsuka straight in the eye. "I get it, Ritsuka. You feel that weight, don't you? You may not have known anyone in that town, and you probably couldn't name more than three of them, but for just that little while, they were your arm's reach."

And sometimes, that was all it took for it to matter. Like Dinah. I'd seen her all of a few minutes, and just like that, she'd become someone I couldn't leave alone and let suffer.

"And the worst feeling of all is when the only thing you can do is walk away from them."

"Taylor…" Romani muttered.

"So don't let it be meaningless," I finished. "You have to walk away now, but this isn't how proper human history says they all died."

Something sparked in his eyes, and Ritsuka's shoulders squared. "So if we correct this Singularity, none of them will have died at all!"

His twin sister gave a triumphant whoop.

"Let's go! The faster we fix this stupid Singularity, the faster everyone will be saved!" Rika shouted, and then she took off running. "To Lyon!"

"W-wait!" Mash scrambled after her. "S-Senpai! Master, Lyon is the other way!"

"Rika!" Ritsuka shouted as he chased them.

It left me alone with Arash, Jeanne, and Romani.

"Do you really think it's going to be that simple, Master?" Arash asked solemnly.

"I don't know." The metaphysics made my head spin, and so did the regular physics. We were in aberrant space-time, as I understood it. Did anything we did here change anything at all? Or would things just snap back the way they were supposed to be the instant we took the Grail and left? "But it's the only way I can accept leaving them to die myself."

"Theoretically, as an otherwise unobserved moment outside of proper time and space…" Romani began.

"I don't want to hear any guesses, Romani," I told him bluntly. "If you don't know for sure, just leave it alone."

He shut up immediately.

"As much as I hate to admit it, there was nothing we could have done as we are," Jeanne said quietly. "My evil self… Her forces simply outmatched us."

"And that's the only reason we didn't stay and fight," I said.

She smiled a tight smile and then raced off after the others.

"Rika, Ritsuka, Mash, it's this way!"

A moment later, Arash and I followed.

— o.0.O.O.0.o —​

It was the better part of another week and a half of walking, trekking through the French countryside, before we finally made it close enough to see Lyon in the distance. What we saw as we looked down on it from atop a hill, however…

"Oh no…" Mash whispered.

…was a smoldering ruin. The smell of the smoke reached us even from so far away.

Not the entire city had been reduced to rubble, but enough of it was gone, scorched down to the foundation, that there was little need to ask what had happened to the city and most, if not all, of its inhabitants. Because of course, the one thing we hadn't considered as we rushed to make it to Lyon was that Jeanne Alter would have gotten to it, first.

How much sooner? Who knew? She could have ransacked it before we ever even made it to La Charité, just burned it down while we were making our trek through the forest from Vaucouleurs, or maybe she'd anticipated where we were heading next, flew on ahead of us on a more direct path that we'd never seen, and wiped it out before we could come to find our reinforcements.

Had she killed the Servant we'd been hearing rumors about, the one whose presence Romani had confirmed, or had our possible ally managed to escape her and her squad of murderers?

My hand snapped up and I barked into my communicator, "Romani!"

There was no response. Damn it. Was there something interfering with our communications somehow, or were we just too far away from the nearest ley line terminal to get a secure connection? The only thing I could do was hope it was the latter and plan for the former.

"We need to get down there and find the ley line," I said.

Rika jolted. "Survivors!" she burst out.

"That's right!" her brother startled. "Senpai, with your bugs, can you —"

"It's out of range, right now," I cut across him quickly. "Once we get within about eighteen-hundred…" I did a quick bit of mental math. "About half a kilometer, I'll be able to start looking. But Ritsuka, Rika…"

"I wouldn't get your hopes up," Arash finished for me, face grim.

"Wait," said Ritsuka. "Arash, you can see that far, can't you?"

"That's why I'm telling you," said Arash. "If there's anyone down there still alive in all that destruction… I'm not seeing them."

And the twins just sort of crumpled. My gut twisted, but none of my own turmoil showed on my face. As awful as this was, when it came down to it, nothing could beat out the carnage left behind by the Slaughterhouse Nine, the casual, malicious cruelty with which they'd tortured their victims. Even by the numbers, Jack Slash had Jeanne Alter beat.

"This is horrible," Jeanne anguished, her face twisted with pain. "No matter how wrathful she is, how could she do something so terrible to all of those innocent people?"

"I'm sorry, Miss Jeanne," Mash said quietly.

Jeanne shook her head, blonde hair whipping at her cheeks. "There's nothing you need to apologize for, Mash. This… This is…"

She trailed off, because she couldn't seem to find the words to describe the atrocity before us. No one else suggested anything to fill her hanging sentence.

"We need to get down there," I said into the uneasy silence. "Find the ley line, connect with Romani. If we can figure out if the Servant he detected is still here or where he might have gone, then that'll give us our next move."

"This… Doesn't this mean anything to you?" Ritsuka snarled at me. "People are dead! Hundreds! Thousands! The whole city is —"

"As callous as it is for me to say it, Ritsuka," I interrupted, staring straight into his eyes, "I've seen a lot worse than this. And crying over all of the people who died won't bring them back. Only fixing this Singularity will."

Ritsuka flinched, and I turned back towards the city, or the husk that remained where it had once stood. In the quiet after my rebuke, the background buzz of my bugs seemed almost thunderous.

Stupid. I forced my swarm to thin out, so that the agitated droning didn't give me away. Eventually, if the local insect population started acting out whenever they expected me to be reacting more extremely, they were going to figure out that my swarm expressed all of the emotions they never saw on my face.

It had been so long since I'd last had my powers that I'd forgotten I used to do that. I'd gotten so accustomed to having to bottle up and push down my frustrations that having that outlet had let me slip back into old habits without even realizing it.

"Whatever we feel about these circumstances," Jeanne began, "it's true that there isn't much we can do about it, now. The best we can do at the moment is as Taylor says: find out whether or not the Servant we were looking for is still around. Especially if he managed to survive this attack, that would be a good sign."

Ritsuka scowled.

"And if we find any survivors —"

"Then we'll do what we can for them," I said.

The twins didn't seem to like that, exactly, especially Ritsuka, but they accepted it as the best they were going to get, because it really was the best we could do, in the circumstances.

We resumed our trek towards the city, a little slower and a little more cautiously, in case there were any stray wyverns still hanging around. As we came closer, the sharp, acrid tang of smoke became stronger and stronger, and the true tale of the city's destruction became ever clearer. Even now what must have been at least a day after the fact, a haze still hung in the air like mist, drifting upwards.

It reminded me of the aftermath of an Independence Day party, after all of the fireworks had been set off. The smoke from the fires had spread out and thinned, and the sulfur from the flames lingered, clinging to the area even long after it was all over.

As more and more of the city came into range of my powers, more and more was my original estimate borne out. Flies and maggots clung to corpses, and the other carrions flitted about from meal to meal, but aside from us, there didn't seem to be a single living person left in Lyon. By all accounts, everyone else had been killed.

"Senpai," Ritsuka whispered. "Is there anyone…?"

Even if he'd wanted it, I wasn't going to give him a pleasant lie.

"I'm sorry, Ritsuka."

He took in a deep, shuddering breath.

"Maybe," Rika said hopefully, "maybe it's just because we're out here, and as we get further in, we'll find…"

Even she didn't sound like she really believed it.

"I don't think we're going to find anyone alive in Lyon, Master," Mash told her somberly.

We kept going and went deeper into town, through the outskirts and over the river that split the city in two near the northeastern edge, where we'd come down from. The deeper we went, the further into the city my range stretched, although the fewer bugs their wound up being, on account of the burnt out husks of homes. Not only was the number dropping, but the variety was slimming down, as well, leaving me with mostly flies, maggots, and a few other creepies of the crawling kind.

"This was such a beautiful town," Jeanne said quietly. Her head swiveled as she looked around at the destruction. "Why would she do something like this? Lyon had no connection to me, at all."

"Didn't she already say it was revenge?" I said. "Against the whole of France?"

"It's not that simple," Jeanne declared with such confidence that she sounded absolutely certain. "It can't be that simple. Can it?"

I thought about the villains I'd known. About Lung. About Coil. About the Travelers and Echidna. About the Teeth and the Fallen. Mostly, I thought about Jack Slash, and how twisted and wrong he'd been, not only in how he acted but in his entire way of thinking. Cruelty for the sake of cruelty, theater for the sake of theater, sadism for the sake of sadism, and all of it backed by the desire to be the biggest monster out there. The boogeyman that everyone feared.

In other words, fame.

"Yeah," was the only answer I could give. "It really can."

Jeanne's brow furrowed, troubled.

I didn't really blame her for wanting to think there must have been something more to it than that. It was tempting to grasp for a reason behind the evils of others, some greater purpose or narrative that explained their actions in a larger context, but all too often, the enemies I'd faced had been driven by the pettiest of shit.

Most people, it turned out, really weren't all that complicated.

"Miss Taylor," said Mash, "have you found any clues as to the whereabouts of the Servant that Doctor Roman detected here?"

"No sign of them, no," I said. "And there aren't as many bugs here as there were in La Charité, either. Do we know where the ley line is?"

Mash lifted her wrist and brought up her map. Da Vinci had even included ley line terminals on that thing? I shouldn't have been surprised that she went that far, but somehow, she kept catching me off guard.

"There's one back on the other side of the river," Mash said, pointing back the way we came. Her arm swung around to the left. "One north of our current position." She swung her arm around again and to the right. "There should be one more to the south. According to the map, it should currently be the site of a castle."

"Whoa," said Rika. "Like, an actual castle? Battlements, ramparts, have at the foul knave! The whole thing?"

"Many towns started that way, Senpai," Mash explained. "The oldest ones were settlements along sources of water, like the rivers that run through Lyon. Those also made ideal places for fortifications, so some towns and cities in Europe started off as Roman forts and military emplacements. Those evolved into medieval castles, and then towns and cities grew around them. Or sometimes the other way around."

"You sure know a lot of stuff, Mash," Ritsuka commented, although his heart didn't really seem in his smile.

Mash flushed. "O-oh, well… I read a lot, growing up."

I looked in the directions Mash had pointed out. Back behind us, to the north of us, to the south of us, it was all destroyed, razed to the ground like it had been stomped on by a giant boot. I didn't like our odds of finding anything good no matter which direction we took, but…

"I think the castle is our best bet," I said.

Jeanne nodded. "I agree. With the city in…the state it's in, the castle is the building most likely to be intact."

Because larger structures made of brick and stone were harder to tear down than smaller residences made of wood and plaster, or whatever people built their houses of in this time period. Yeah, that was my reasoning, too.

"Senpai," Ritsuka began.

"Still nothing."

He didn't press.

We picked through the rubble to find the most intact street we could and made our way south, towards where the castle was supposed to be standing. Eventually, we had to make a detour back north to reach the bridge that took us across the other river — the Rhône, Jeanne called it, to the Saône that we'd already crossed — and then make our way back south, again.

No matter how much we walked or how deep into the city we went, I found no signs of life. The whole place was as silent as the grave, an expression all the more appropriate now, it seemed to me, even if it was equally morbid.

At last, in the distance, situated atop a hill and surrounded by foliage, a towering castle came into view, standing above the rest of the destroyed city. A thing of brick and stone with solid, strong walls, it was…

"That's it?" Rika asked. "That doesn't look like a castle at all!"

Disappointingly small. In terms of its size, it was definitely bigger than any of the residences around here would have been when they were intact by an order of magnitude, but I'd been expecting something epic and enormous, like it had come straight out of The Lord of the Rings, or at least something on the scale of the Tower of London or Buckingham Palace.

The castle we saw was definitely a castle, but it was like the whole thing had been built on a tight budget, so all of the features you normally expected of one were compacted down as much as possible. The thing didn't even have a moat and a drawbridge.

"Not everyone can be the King of England," Jeanne said with an awkward smile and laugh.

"Well, you know what they say," I commented idly. "Men who carry big swords or build huge castles are making up for being…undersized elsewhere."

"M-Miss Taylor!" Mash squeaked, scandalized, as Ritsuka squeaked and Rika gaped at me. Even Jeanne's face had turned bright red.

Arash, at least, found it funny, if the laugh was anything to go by.

"On the bright side," I said like nothing had happened, "the fact it's not that big means it'll be pretty easy to search."

"The tower makes for a good vantage point, too, if we decide to stay the night," Arash added.

"We'll make those kinds of plans after we hash out our next move with Romani."

"R-right," Mash said, still a little flustered.

Beep-beep!

"Romani?" I blurted out, surprised.

A burst of static ate his first few words, but there was no mistaking the rest of his shout: "— Servant incoming!"

I whirled around. "Mash!"

"Master!" Arash yelled at the same time as Mash called, "Senpai!"

An arm wrapped around my middle like a steel bar, and my gut lurched as I was yanked off my feet and through the air, just in time for a meteor to fall out of the sky towards where I'd just been standing.

"LORD CHALDEAS!"

A pane of thin, blue light resolved itself into a castle wall, and the meteor slammed into it with a thunderous clang, forcing Mash to brace her back foot against the ground. A bare second later, my feet found the ground again as we landed and Arash set me down. His arm didn't leave my stomach. In case he had to pick me up and dodge again.

Thankfully, Mash's Noble Phantasm held, protecting her, Jeanne, and the twins completely, and the meteor bounced off of it and spun back in the opposite direction to land in the destroyed street. The weight behind it cratered the already cracked road, and as it bled off its momentum, it slowly came to a stop.

A tortoise shell. Lined with spikes and ridges, it was a gigantic shell the color of dried blood, and tucked inside were a horned, bearded head, six clawed legs, and a long, serpentine tail that emerged before our eyes. It glared at us with baleful yellow eyes over a leonine maw filled with sharp fangs.

It didn't attack. It stood there, tail lashing out behind it, utterly massive and easily big enough to swallow each of us whole.

And then another meteor fell out of the sky, a blur of white, red, and black that landed atop the beast's shell with inhuman grace. When she stood back up, staring down from her mount's back, it was the woman in the fetish tabard.

"Originally, I was tasked merely with observing your path forward," she announced in a strong, clear voice. "However, the Servant you're searching for here in Lyon is the greatest threat to my Master in this era, and as her Servant, I should absolutely prevent you from reaching him."

She brandished her staff.

"And as a servant of Our Lord, I must also do whatever I can to aid you, so long as even a fraction of my sanity remains. That's why…if you cannot make it past this Saint Martha, then you have no hope of facing my Master and her personal mount!"

"S-Saint Martha!" Romani stuttered, voice broken by a burst of static. "Then that means… Her mount is the dragon, Tarasque! N-not a wyvern, but a dragon! A real dragon!"

In what world was that a dragon, I wanted to ask, but it was a useless question.

"Romani," I said instead, "the Servant we came here for, is he in the castle?"

"W-what?"

"The Servant, Romani! Is he in the castle?"

"Oh!" Romani scrambled. "C-checking… You're much closer, so my readings should be much more accurate! Yes! I'm detecting the presence of a Servant inside the castle! The bottom floor, in the basement! W-wait, that would be the dungeons, wouldn't it?"

The dungeons? Why…? No time to worry about that. I could ask him myself when we found him.

Except there was a problem: five and a half feet of a reincarnated ghost of a great hero from the past and her twenty-something foot tall dragon, neither of whom would just let us run inside the castle and find that Servant. If we turned our backs and made a run for it, that dragon would squash us flat in an instant.

I had to make a decision.

We didn't have the firepower to take out Martha, not as long as she had her Tarasque by her side, which meant someone had to go into the castle to search for the other Servant there. The fact that we didn't have the firepower meant that we needed the defensive power instead to hold our ground while someone split off to go look. That meant Mash had to stay behind and keep Martha busy.

She held off Excalibur. It wouldn't be easy, but she should be able to do it.

The trouble was, the person who should go search for the Servant hidden in the castle was also obvious, because not only was Mash better off with the support of her Masters, but the person best suited to go was the person who could find the other Servant fastest. In other words, me.

And that meant I was going to have to let the twins handle this on their own for the first time since we met up in Fuyuki.

I hated it. I hated it. My job was to be their leader, to look out for them and make sure they made it back from all of this as alive and intact as I could possibly manage. As their leader, it fell to me to make the sacrifice play if and when the situation ever arose, because they were my responsibility and I wasn't going to throw their lives away. The people, it had to be about the people, or else what was the point of this second chance I'd been given?

But the person who went into the castle had to be me. The Servant who stayed to hold off Martha had to be Mash. I could bring the twins with me, but if something happened to Mash because they weren't there to help with a well-timed Command Spell, none of us would forgive ourselves.

Damn it. Damn it. Damn it all. Why did this feel so much like running away?

My mouth had already made the decision my heart still fought against. "Ritsuka, Rika, Mash! Hold her off! Arash, give them support! Jeanne, I need you with me!"

"Yes!" Mash and the twins shouted back.

Arash let out a short chuckle and leapt away from my side and up onto the roof of the nearest tower. He drew back his bow and took aim, waiting for the right moment. Ritsuka and Rika retreated to a safe distance, even as Mash planted herself like a tree between them and Martha.

Jeanne was the only one who hesitated, glancing back at the woman on her dragon, like she thought her place was on the front lines.

I understood the feeling, but I wasn't so stupid as to risk my own life needlessly by running to face an unknown Servant by myself. Not when I didn't know his alignment, his temperament, or anything else about him except that Jeanne Alter apparently had reason to fear him.

"Jeanne!"

Finally, she turned away and came towards me, and once she was beside me, I turned towards the castle and we made our way inside.

"We shouldn't leave them by themselves," she told me as we sprinted across the courtyard.

"We don't have the firepower to beat her ourselves," I retorted shortly, "but the Servant inside this castle is apparently a big enough deal that your evil self doesn't want us recruiting him, because he's a threat to her super special personal dragon. Which means…"

"He's probably one of the dragonslayers you wanted to summon," Jeanne realized.

"Yeah."

I hoped.
— o.0.O.O.0.o —​
It's Saturday, right? Right.

When I was writing this, I had a helluva time figuring out which castle in Lyon our intrepid hero was hiding out in, because when I looked at Google Maps, there were EIGHTEEN FUCKING CASTLES. WHICH CASTLE, NASU?

Ahem. Anyway. The one I eventually decided on was technically outside the age range I was looking for, because the earliest records of inhabitance were from 1476. I fudged it under the logic of, "Well, it wasn't built in a day, was it?" I just decided to assume it was older than that record and could feasibly have been in use in 1431.

Special thanks to everyone who has helped me out, and especially to all my Patrons who have stayed with me this far, through all the rocky moments and dry stretches. You guys are the best, and your continued support is invaluable.
If you like what you're reading and want to support me as a writer so I can pay the bills, I have a Patreon. If Patreon is too long term, I have a Ko-fi page, too. If you want to commission something from me, check out either my Deviantart post or my artist registry page for my rates. Links in my sig. Every little bit helps keep me afloat, even if you can only afford a couple dollars.
Next — Chapter XIX: Der Dracheblutighelt
 
Chapter XIX: Der Trachenbluotige Helt
Chapter XIX: Der Trachenbluotige Helt

Our footsteps echoed through the hallways as we raced through the castle. We didn't waste time on talking and debating, on worrying about our friends and comrades as they faced off against Saint Martha and her Tarasque, we just focused entirely on the objective in front of us. Single-minded.

For a wild second, I wondered if the only reason why Jeanne herself hadn't been the one I summoned was because she was already there.

But that sort of speculation was a pointless distraction. I didn't have time to deal with what-ifs and maybes, so I let that thought be swept away, an idle curiosity.

And while I ran, my swarm surged out ahead of us, beneath us, behind us, part of it crawling through the castle in search of our mystery Servant while the other half rose up to distract Saint Martha. Any support I could give Mash and the twins had to be worth something.

No. Saint Martha didn't even flinch as a veritable biblical plague closed in upon her — if she would even have had to worry to begin with, because my utterly mundane "familiars" wouldn't even be able to bite her — she just tapped the shell of her dragon with the butt of her staff. The Tarasque reared its head back, throat bulging, and spat out a gout of flame like some sort of biological flamethrower, swinging its neck back and forth wildly.

Instantly, large swaths of my swarm disappeared as the dragon's breath flash-fried them. My initial attack run had failed, but I hadn't really expected it to succeed to begin with. If a wyvern's breath was so densely magical that my bugs popped just from proximity to its maw, then it stood to reason that the real deal, an "actual" dragon like the Tarasque, would kill them just as easily and just as effortlessly.

But the fact it went through the effort to kill them more expediently told me that Martha didn't have the patience to play around and didn't have some sort of extrasensory skill that would let her fight around my swarm.

I couldn't sting her, I couldn't bite her, and if I tried to weave ropes of silk thread, chances were she wouldn't even be inconvenienced by them. But I could throw her off course for at least a little while, and every second I bought with my bugs was a second Mash didn't have to fight and an extra second I had to find and reach the Servant in the dungeons.

"This way!" I called to Jeanne, and I made a sharp turn as I found the quickest route to the basement.

Outside, my swarm pulled back, and instead of swooping in to attack, they formed as dense, tall, and wide a wall as I could manage between Saint Martha and Mash, a screen of chitin that hid Mash from view. I knew it wouldn't last long.

Saint Martha proved me right. She tapped the butt of her staff against her dragon's shell again, and the Tarasque reared its head back again and let loose another stream of fire. It burned a hole through my swarm, and those that weren't immediately fried by the flames dropped as the heat cooked them inside their carapaces.

Saint Martha wasted no time; she leapt off of her dragon and through the gap it had made. I collapsed my swarm in on her, but she bulldozed right through it like it wasn't there, disrupting it in her wake with the speed of her dash.

As Jeanne and I raced down the stairs, Mash took Saint Martha's blow head on with her shield, grunting and bracing herself with her back foot. Saint Martha wasn't deterred, and she attacked again with a blazing fast series of blows from her staff that rang as they smashed against Mash's shield. She moved so quickly that I'd already lost count of them by the time my swarm had recovered enough to chase after her.

Saint Martha stayed a step ahead of me and flung herself backwards in a leap that took her over the bulk of my bugs, and she landed back on the shell of her dragon. A tap from her staff had it spitting out another burst of flame that consumed yet more of my swarm.

I was already down to about a third of what I'd started with.

But up ahead, the rest of my swarm finally found something, a figure in the shape of a tall, broad-shouldered man who was lying in a cell. He was propped up against a wall, and in one hand, he clutched the hilt of a sword that seemed, at least to my bugs, absolutely massive.

"I found him!" I told Jeanne.

She smiled radiantly and opened her mouth.

"Have you?"

"Taylor!" Jeanne shouted, and she pushed me to the side so hard that when I slammed into the brick wall, I blacked out.

I came to on the floor, sprawled out where I'd fallen with my glasses askew. Through the lenses, I saw a tall, spindly figure with long, dark hair dressed in a ragged, black cape. His hands ended in claws like knives, and what little I saw of his skin was pale and sallow, because the half of his face I could see clearly was covered in a bone white mask.

Jeanne struggled to hold him off, keeping him at bay with the shaft of her flag. Slowly, the tips of his claws inched closer to her face.

"How naive, how naive," the new Servant rasped, because he couldn't be anything else. "To think you would come here, and not realize that the dragonslayer you seek would be guarded by another Servant."

"Taylor!" Jeanne shouted at me. "Go! Find the other Servant! I'll — urk! I'll hold him off!"

"That simply won't do," said the new Servant. "The Dragon Witch has left me in charge of this town and the hero who once protected it. You won't reach him. You mustn't be allowed to reach him."

I stumbled to my feet, the world swaying around me for a moment, and I spared only a single glance back at Jeanne.

But there was simply nothing I could do for her, just then, and the dragonslayer was only down the hall. Even if it left a bad taste in my mouth to turn my back on another comrade again, the best thing I could do just then was to make contact with the reinforcements who could turn the tide of this battle.

After all, he might have been lying, but if he wasn't? This new Servant had just confirmed that the other one down here was exactly who we were looking for. Sigurd, Siegfried, Saint George — right then, I wasn't picky. Any one of them would be useful.

I took off into a dead sprint. Behind me, I heard Jeanne grunt and then shout out, "I won't let you past!"

Alone now, I raced towards my target, even as I tried to keep track of two other battles at the same time. It was getting harder up above, because Saint Martha and Tarasque kept thinning out my swarm, but Mash was holding on, so if she could just keep it up for a little bit longer, then it would all be worth it.

I made a sharp turn, and my boots slid along the floor as I threw myself into it without slowing down. The dragonslayer was being kept in —

I came to a stop in front of the fifth cell down, and there, lying against the wall just as I'd seen him with my bugs, was a tall, broad-shouldered man. He was sparsely armored with long, shaggy gray hair, but the most striking thing about him was the luminescent green marking splashed across his chest that curved up his neck and over one of his cheeks.

And just like I'd seen, he held tight to a massive greatsword with one hand.

In different circumstances, I might have taken a moment to admire the sharply chiseled muscles shown off by the open front of his bodysuit, but right then and there, I wasted no time and ripped my knife out of its holster. A flick of a switch turned it on, and with a savage jab, I cut right through the lock on the cell door.

It was so pathetically weak that I was surprised it managed to hold him.

Finally, as I stood in the doorway, he looked up and blinked at me. "You're not the Dragon Witch."

"No," I confirmed. "I'm with an organization called Chaldea. We're here to stop her."

"I see. So there are still people who would fight back against her."

"It's a little more complicated than that." The cell door swung open with a metallic squeal. "We came here to get you. We need your help to beat her."

"Ah," he mumbled. "I'm sorry. I'm afraid I won't be of much use to you like this. You've come to rescue me for nothing."

My brow furrowed. Was he speaking generally, or was there something in specific wrong?

Time, time, not enough time to sit here and think about it. Jeanne was still holding off the other Servant, the man in the tattered cloak, and my thinning swarm was providing all the sparser a cover for the twins and Mash up above. Noble Phantasms hadn't been pulled out again, yet, but Saint Martha didn't seem to be pulling any punches otherwise.

Or maybe she was. Maybe this was her fighting her orders from Jeanne Alter as much as she could. Without a reference point, I had no way of telling exactly how strong, fast, and brutal she was normally, so for all I knew, she was holding back to give us the chance to beat her before she did anything else she couldn't stomach.

"You don't have a Master, right?" I thrust my hand forward, showing off the bright red of my Command Spells. "If you need magical energy, I can help you with that. Forge a contract."

He blinked up at me again, nonplussed, and then his lips curled into a rueful smile.

"I'm afraid that's not it at all."

He reached down with one gauntleted hand and pulled the fabric of his bodysuit to one side, revealing —

"Holy fuck."

It wasn't the worst wound I'd ever seen. It wasn't even the worst wound I'd ever suffered myself. I'd been cut in half before, after all. Had my entire lower body disintegrated and my entrails flopping all over the ocean. As far as "things that happened to me, and I survived" went, that one in particular was hard to top.

But the ugly, ragged wound ripped into his chest just under the line of his ribs was raw and discolored, sickly and infected. I'd never realized Servants even could get infected wounds. The assumption had always been that they were completely impervious to mundane afflictions like gangrene and bacterial infections.

That was part of the point. Only Mystery could defeat Mystery. Regular germs didn't have the oomph to so much as inconvenience a Servant.

"My last encounter with the Dragon Witch's minions left me with this injury," the swordsman explained. "Normally, a wound like this would have been healed already. My constitution being what it is, it would've been gone in a matter of minutes. The blessing bestowed upon me by the evil dragon's blood is simply too potent."

He tucked the injury away behind the fabric of his bodysuit. Now that I knew it was there, I couldn't believe I had somehow missed the gigantic splotch of blood that soaked through the cloth.

"This curse, however, persists stubbornly," he said. "I'm sorry. I would like nothing more than to help you, but in this state, I'm of no use to you at all."

My mind raced.

If he had Battle Continuation… But if he had Battle Continuation, even a wound like that shouldn't have held him back. He would be able to stand up and keep fighting until someone managed a killing blow.

That was the question, though. Did I need him to fight? Or did I need him to take advantage of a single weak spot, a fleeting moment of vulnerability? As a dragonslayer wielding a weapon for slaying dragons, did anything else matter as long as he could kill the dragon in a single blow?

Without Tarasque, Saint Martha could be hemmed in, trapped, and taken out by Arash, Mash, and Jeanne. As long as she had Tarasque, though, she could hide behind its shell and be protected from any attack that might otherwise kill her. Just like she had in La Charité, where her Tarasque had stopped us from killing Jeanne Alter's whole retinue in one go.

"Can you at least use your Noble Phantasm?" I asked. "If you had the magical energy?"

He was silent for a long moment, considering me. I had to keep myself from fidgeting and demanding an answer immediately.

"Yes," he said at last. "I should be able to use my Noble Phantasm at least once. I'm sorry, I can't guarantee consecutive uses."

I nodded. Nothing about this was ideal, but as long as we hit the right target at the right time, I didn't need him to fire it off more than once.

"Then, there's just one last thing I want to confirm. Your True Name, it's —"

"Saber class Servant, Siegfried," he answered.

A thrill of triumph jolted through my belly. So, I was right. The Servant in Lyon was a dragonslayer, and his identity was Siegfried. That must have been the reason my catalyst failed when I summoned Arash, because Siegfried was already here, and therefore he wasn't available to be summoned a second time.

Just as importantly, this would mean we now had the dragon-slaying hero we had been in desperate need of since we got here. For once, for once, things weren't going to hell in a handbasket while I struggled to find whatever I could to pull out a win, and we'd been handed a secret weapon long before things had spiraled too far.

I thrust my hand down, as though to help him to his feet.

"Then, let this be our oath," I told him. "Thy body shall rest under my dominion —"

He reached out, letting go of his enormous sword long enough to wrap his massive, gauntlet-covered hand around mine. The metal was cool to the touch, and he was shockingly gentle. "And thy fate shall rest in my blade, Master."

A brief flash of light. Pain lanced up my arm like fire, surging through my Magic Circuits, and my Command Spells throbbed as another contract was established. Siegfried, Servant Saber, was now my Servant, just like Arash. When I looked at him through my Master's Clairvoyance, his True Name, his class, and his Noble Phantasm all stood out, proud and prominent.

Romani was probably going to be mad that I did this without consulting him, first, but there wasn't any time to get into an argument with him about this.

Slowly, Siegfried leveraged himself up and stood, stooped over his wound. He took one step and stumbled, his free hand twitching as though to grab at the injury, but righted himself without me having to swoop in and help him. A good thing, too, because I wasn't sure he wouldn't drag us both to the floor decked out in as many metal plates as he was. Even without a full suit, they were big enough and thick enough that they couldn't be light to a normal human.

"There's another Servant out in the hallway," I began.

"The Phantom," Siegfried mumbled. "Yes, he's been guarding me since the city was ransacked."

Phantom? Was that a name or some kind of title? A discussion for later, when we weren't pressed for time.

"The real Jeanne d'Arc was summoned to fight her evil counterpart," I summarized. "She's holding him off as best she can, right now. I don't need you to fight him, but if I give you an opening, can you kill him?"

Siegfried eyed me shrewdly.

"An opening?"

I palmed one of Cúchulainn's runestones. I was down to a meager three, and if and until we managed to summon him back to Chaldea, that was it. My rune magecraft wasn't anywhere near good enough to make replacements.

"I'm going to distract him," I said simply. "You'll have only a second or two at most. Are you up for it?"

He inclined his head. "I'll have to be."

We made our way back down the hallway at a brisk walk. Even as tall as I was, Siegfried still had what had to be almost half a foot on me, with a stride to match, so despite his pace being stiff and slow for a Servant, he was still keeping up effortlessly.

I wanted to run. My blood was thundering in my veins, and the impulse to take off at full speed was almost unbearable, but with my new Servant as injured as he was, we had to go at his speed. Instead, I used the time it was taking us to lay out the plan to as many people as I could.

Arash, I projected my thoughts his way, I've found the Servant we were looking for. True Name: Siegfried, from the Nibelungenlied. He's injured badly enough that he won't be able to fight, but he'll be able to at least take out Saint Martha and the Tarasque with his Noble Phantasm.

Got it,
Arash answered. I'll keep things in hand while you guys make your way out of the castle. Hurry, though, Master. I'm not sure how much longer Martha is going to "test" us.

As fast as we can,
I confirmed, and then I pushed down the thread to Siegfried. I have a runestone that I'm going to throw at Phantom. It'll let off a bright flash of light, so when I tell Jeanne to shield her eyes, that's your cue.

Understood, Master.


As we came to the corner, I reached out with my bugs to get a sense of the fighting I could hear down the hall. Even diminished as she was, Jeanne was still moving fast enough that it was hard to keep anything on her at all, and Phantom was just as bad. It was still enough that I could grasp the basic layout of the action and the area around it.

Nothing much had changed in the brief couple of minutes it had taken me to get Siegfried. Jeanne still held on, but that was likely only because the corridor was straight and narrow, which limited angles of attack, and Phantom liked to come at her with quick, obvious strikes before backing away to try again.

Those were probably the only things saving her. I wasn't sure what Heroic Spirit Phantom was supposed to be, because I couldn't recall any legends about great figures who wore half a face mask, but even I could tell that he wasn't really the fighting type. The way he attacked was befitting of his class — like an ambush predator, a stalker, an assassin, used to finishing the target off before they could fight back, and as a result, not that good in a straight fight.

Wait.

An assassin, an ambush predator, a stalker, called Phantom, who wore a white mask over half of his face and dressed in the tattered finery of an aristocrat. Could it really be the Phantom of the Opera? Really? A character from a book qualified as a Heroic Spirit?

Later. No time to give that too much thought.

Leaping out from the corner, I sprinted down the hallway as Siegfried hobbled after me. The runestone grew hot in my hand as magical energy ran through it.

My arm cocked back. "Jeanne, eyes!"

And I threw the runestone unerringly towards Phantom, or more accurately, towards the fly that was buzzing in circles directly behind him.

Jeanne glanced over her shoulder at me, but she didn't hesitate to follow my command and squeezed her eyes shut as she flung herself to the side. Phantom leapt back warily, but it didn't matter, because the point hadn't been to hit him at all in the first place.

I squeezed my own eyes shut.

"Anfang!"

Phantom gave a startled shout as a bright light flashed, bright enough I could see it through my eyelids again, and a swift wind rushed past me, whipping my hair about. The bug I'd attached to Siegfried's back was ripped off from the speed.

The squelch of metal sinking into flesh was quiet, but the way it pierced the hallway, it might as well have been thunder. Phantom gasped, and there was an unholy shriek as metal ground against metal, and another squelch as Siegfried's massive sword was drawn from out of Phantom's body. Then, I heard the thump of someone hitting the floor.

My eyes squinted open just in time for me to see Phantom disappear into motes of light that flickered out like fireflies, and Siegfried panted, using the wall to prop himself up as Balmung drooped in his grip.

Jeanne pulled herself to her feet as I came up to join them, her brow furrowed, and Siegfried turned just far enough to see me out of the corner of his eyes.

"Enemy Servant eliminated, Master," he reported, labored.

I nodded. "Good job."

"You're hurt," Jeanne noted.

"A cursed wound," Siegfried explained shortly. "There's nothing to be done. I'll deal with it."

Jeanne reached for his side, where the wound was, and hesitated for a moment.

"May I?"

Siegfried looked at her curiously, but shifted to provide her better access. Immediately, Jeanne pulled his bodysuit to the side, and she hissed when her hand found the nasty wound. Siegfried barely even flinched as she probed it.

"My evil self did this," she muttered, somewhere between disgust and scorn. A gusty sigh left her mouth. "I'm sorry, but I can't heal it completely. In my current state, she's just too strong. I can at least ease it a little."

"A little will be more than enough," Siegfried said.

Jeanne nodded, and she pressed her hand to the mauled flesh, muttering something under her breath. It sounded like a prayer. Her hands glowed, and before my eyes, the nasty wound started to close and fill in, some of the discoloration fading.

But only some. When she was done and pulled away, it looked better than before, but it was still bad enough that a human being would be dead or dying, not standing straighter the way Siegfried did.

"Thank you," he said.

Jeanne returned it with a wan smile. "I only wish I could have done more."

"Are you still good to use your Noble Phantasm?" I asked Siegfried.

He nodded, sure and confident. "At least once, Master."

"Then we need to get back," said Jeanne, taking the words out of my mouth. "Mash and the others need our help."

Jeanne and I started back the way we came, with Siegfried bringing up the rear at a brisk walk. His gait was smoother and easier than before, but he still wasn't back up to full health. His wound still bothered him, made him flinch every few steps.

I didn't know how we were going to do it, but we were going to have to find a way to break that curse.

As we made our way back out of the castle, I kept track of the fight happening above with my bugs, as much as I could with my swarm getting cut down with every breath Tarasque took. Mash was still holding her own, but she was visibly starting to struggle, and Saint Martha was still going strong. The twins, having some sense, had backed further away from the line of fire, and from his perch, Arash forced Saint Martha to ease up by peppering her with arrows that forced her to disengage or else become a pin cushion.

It was a stalemate, but only because no one had pulled out a Noble Phantasm yet.

If Saint Martha knew who had been locked in this dungeon, and I had plenty of reason to believe that she did, given what she'd said at the start of the fight, then it was entirely possible that would change the instant she saw Siegfried. No, it was even likely. Siegfried was the only Servant on our side who could definitely defeat her in one blow.

That would be our opening, then. A moment where both Tarasque and Saint Martha would be vulnerable. The perfect moment to finish them off.

When we stepped out into the sunlight, it felt like we had been down in the dungeon for days, and we rushed for the gate as quickly as we were able. On the other side was devastation, the husks of the buildings that had been there before now flattened by the fighting. From the hill the castle sat on, I had a clear view of everything that had been crushed.

I took in a deep breath.

Get ready, I told Siegfried as he came up behind me. He jolted to a stop, like he'd been about to jump into the fray until I'd said something.

"Mash!" I shouted at the top of my lungs. "Pull back! Ritsuka, Rika, get to the castle! Arash, cover them!"

To Arash, I added silently, Force her back, but give her just enough room to breathe.

Understood.


The twins and Mash hesitated for only a second or two, then moved to follow my orders. Mash never turned her back to Saint Martha, holding her shield up as she tried to gain distance. The twins just turned and ran towards me as fast as their legs would carry them.

Saint Martha herself looked up at my voice, and even from that distance, I could see her eyes widen as she caught sight of Siegfried beside me — and then a series of arrows from Arash forced her to retreat behind her dragon, where they broke upon its shell.

I knew my plan was working when the dragon curled up into its shell like a turtle, pulling all of its limbs in. The instant Arash's arrows stopped coming, Saint Martha leapt up behind it and swung the cross-shaped section of her staff like a hockey stick, with the Tarasque as the puck.

"TARASQUE!"

The dragon flew off of the ground with way more speed and force than she could possibly have imparted on her own, spinning as lightning crackled along its shell and gouts of flame burst out from the openings. With that much weight and speed behind it, it would hit like a rocket fired from a jet plane.

But even before her staff had hit the beast, I was already giving another set of orders.

"Mash!"

"Use your Noble Phantasm!" Ritsuka shouted, picking up on my plan.

Mash, halfway to us, planted her shield, and like she was issuing a challenge to the world, cried out, "LORD CHALDEAS!"

The barrier formed in front of her, morphing and twisting into a bricked, castle wall, translucent but solid. Tarasque slammed into it like a ballistic missile, and its spinning shell ground against the brickwork like a drill, trying to bore its way through to reach her, to smite her, to kill all of us in one go.

But the castle wall held. The Tarasque hung, suspended in the air by its own momentum for a handful of seconds, and then rebounded, bouncing back and sliding on the bottom of its shell in the direction it had come from as its spin slowed down. The castle wall faded out of existence.

There wasn't going to be a better opening.

Saber —

"Now!"

Siegfried leapt into the air with a grunt, crossing the distance in an instant to land roughly in front of Mash. The wind of his passing whipped my hair about, and Rika let out a startled yelp as her own hair fluttered.

He stood and took grip of his sword with both hands, lifting the blade above his head. The jewel in the hilt glowed, and suddenly, a burst of energy surged up the blade, extending into a massive pillar of pale, blue light that reached up to the clouds above.

My stomach flip-flopped. For an instant, I was reminded of King Arthur and her Excalibur, the terrible beam of energy that had almost killed us all.

Siegfried stepped back on one foot, bracing himself. The pillar of light moved like it was nothing more than an extension of his blade.

"TARASQUE!" Marth screamed.

The sword came down.

"BALMUNG!"

The pillar of light descended like a guillotine, carving a path of destruction through everything in its way. It slammed into the ground and detonated, surging out in a wave and scouring the already destroyed city clean. Everything it touched was seared away and disappeared beneath the torrent of its might, and even Saint Martha and her Tarasque were swallowed up the same as everything else.

The blast lasted an eternity, but also only an instant. Steam and smoke billowed out in its wake, and Siegfried stumbled back, clutching at his wounded side and panting as though he'd run a marathon. My Magic Circuits throbbed from the sheer amount of magical energy that had been channeled through them to support that single blow.

The billowing smoke eventually spread out and dissipated, curling in tufts up into the sky, and when it was gone, there was no sign anymore of the great dragon that we had struggled against. The Tarasque was no more.

But Saint Martha remained, if only just. She was still alive, for whatever that word meant to a Servant, but she hadn't come out of Balmung's attack unscathed.

Both of her arms were burned almost entirely black, along with a large portion of the left side of her face, like she had turned her head away and tried to shield herself with her arms. Her white tabard was ripped and torn and barely covered her modesty, not that it had been particularly conservative before, and her staff had disappeared somewhere, gone. Various other wounds mottled the front of her body, and any normal human would have been writhing on the ground in agony.

Saint Martha didn't. She dropped her arms, scowled at us, and settled into a stance reminiscent of a boxer, leading with one of her mangled hands. Her legs bunched, tensed, as Mash and Siegfried both prepared to meet her, and —

She stopped, face slack, as an arrow sprouted from the left side of her chest, buried in her flesh almost up to the fletching. A spurt of blood splattered across the ground behind her, and more leaked from the wound down her front.

I didn't need to be Panacea to know that was a killshot.

Saint Martha collapsed like a puppet with its strings cut, falling to her knees as her arms dropped down, an expression of surprise on her face. For a moment, she swayed like that, her outline growing fuzzy and indistinct, like static on an old tv, and then she fell forward. The instant her face hit the ground, her entire body vanished in a cloud of golden sparks that flickered and died.

But as she fell, I could have sworn I saw her smile.
— o.0.O.O.0.o —​
Is it too much that Taylor figured out who Phantom was just from those clues? Eh. I think she would have heard of Phantom of the Opera, even though one of my editors had never heard of him before FGO.

Also, a reminder for Taylor: even when a Servant is trying to save your life, they can really fuck you up.

That ending was so anime, though. I can picture it so clearly even now, so long after I wrote it, just going by how it was described in the story. Goddamn.

Special thanks to everyone who has helped me out, and especially to all my Patrons who have stayed with me this far, through all the rocky moments and dry stretches. You guys are the best, and your continued support is invaluable.
If you like what you're reading and want to support me as a writer so I can pay the bills, I have a Patreon. If Patreon is too long term, I have a Ko-fi page, too. If you want to commission something from me, check out either my Deviantart post or my artist registry page for my rates. Links in my sig. Every little bit helps keep me afloat, even if you can only afford a couple dollars.
Next — Chapter XX: Paladin at Thiers
 
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