Vergil's gaze swam across the Adocentyn landscape. His eyes were in love, madly in love, and the man who was a few steps from the throne could not grasp the reason for this feeling; to him, that was just an old city. But Vergil looked at that millenary urban landscape with the eyes of a mother in front of her just born child, the pupils and the thin smiles caressed the buildings, pampered Adocentyn with a strong maternal affection.
The man next to Vergil was not physically there; it was just a hologram created with magic. He was Amadeus Veliki, a representative of the New Order of Nidhogg and the co-founder of the organization. He was a tall, robust man, with a hard-featured face and the expression of a soldier who had just left the battlefield. He dressed elegantly, but it was clear that he hated the jacket and tie and that he would've preferred a military outfit and a rifle.
"Is it proceeding as you planned, Vergil?" Veliki asked curiously.
"Some altars have tasted the blood of the Masters, but not all... but things will change. Soon Nidhogg will return to this world and fulfill my wish. You just need to be patient, Amadeus... Patient..."
"I agree, but..."
"But?"
"The boy... Alessandro Serpi..."
"Doesn't he convince you?"
"He will never help us voluntarily, you know. Only he can talk to Nidhogg, but if he refuses... everything you planned will be in vain—"
"This is where you're wrong, Amadeus. Alessandro will never accept of his own free will, but he will do it when I'll show him my cards."
Veliki widened his eyes. "Are you saying your experiment worked?!"
"Didn't I tell you?" A derisive grin appeared on Vergil's face. "Come on, don't be upset. At my age it's normal to forget certain details. However the experiment worked, my friend, it worked and is fighting in my war. I can already see Alessandro's expression when he learns what I have prepared for him."
"So victory is assured..."
"Yes, Amadeus, victory is assured. All this time I've altered the events of this world, I have put my hands in history itself and diverted its course... All just to get to this war, the last one that this small world will have to endure. When all this is over, a new world will show itself to us and humanity will abandon its remains and ascend! And finally there will be a real Utopia—!"
"What about Yukiko?"
The joy in Vergil's gaze died in an instant. "Something wrong, Amadeus?"
"Aren't you worried about her escape?"
"Should I?"
"She has always been unstable, you know that perfectly well. This is why I suggested eliminating her instead of leaving her in the hands of the Coven—"
"You were right, Amadeus, her death would've helped our cause, but I don't think she can interfere with our project."
"She will try and you know it very well," he said coldly. "That selfish nut will do anything to make her crazy dream come true. When she finds out your intentions, she will turn against you... against us... and then it will be difficult to get rid of her."
"I know that, my friend, but I'm not as worried as you are. A creature like her, who only desires destruction, was never smart enough to understand when she was being manipulated and when not. Do you think anything has changed now? Do you think months of imprisonment have made her more acute? No. She will try to stop us, yes, but a person like her lacks intellect, imagination and will eventually make a mistake that will cost her life."
"How can you be sure?"
"Alessandro proved it in my place. That is why I chose her for the war in London. You guys are Imitations with a rational purpose, but she is pure self-destructive irrationality. She has no creativity and is unable to fight for something better, no, she only fights for the Absolute Nothing. Those who fight to destroy lack willpower, lack of imagination and lack of strength. This is the truth, my friend."
The man next to Vergil was not physically there; it was just a hologram created with magic. He was Amadeus Veliki, a representative of the New Order of Nidhogg and the co-founder of the organization. He was a tall, robust man, with a hard-featured face and the expression of a soldier who had just left the battlefield. He dressed elegantly, but it was clear that he hated the jacket and tie and that he would've preferred a military outfit and a rifle.
"Is it proceeding as you planned, Vergil?" Veliki asked curiously.
"Some altars have tasted the blood of the Masters, but not all... but things will change. Soon Nidhogg will return to this world and fulfill my wish. You just need to be patient, Amadeus... Patient..."
"I agree, but..."
"But?"
"The boy... Alessandro Serpi..."
"Doesn't he convince you?"
"He will never help us voluntarily, you know. Only he can talk to Nidhogg, but if he refuses... everything you planned will be in vain—"
"This is where you're wrong, Amadeus. Alessandro will never accept of his own free will, but he will do it when I'll show him my cards."
Veliki widened his eyes. "Are you saying your experiment worked?!"
"Didn't I tell you?" A derisive grin appeared on Vergil's face. "Come on, don't be upset. At my age it's normal to forget certain details. However the experiment worked, my friend, it worked and is fighting in my war. I can already see Alessandro's expression when he learns what I have prepared for him."
"So victory is assured..."
"Yes, Amadeus, victory is assured. All this time I've altered the events of this world, I have put my hands in history itself and diverted its course... All just to get to this war, the last one that this small world will have to endure. When all this is over, a new world will show itself to us and humanity will abandon its remains and ascend! And finally there will be a real Utopia—!"
"What about Yukiko?"
The joy in Vergil's gaze died in an instant. "Something wrong, Amadeus?"
"Aren't you worried about her escape?"
"Should I?"
"She has always been unstable, you know that perfectly well. This is why I suggested eliminating her instead of leaving her in the hands of the Coven—"
"You were right, Amadeus, her death would've helped our cause, but I don't think she can interfere with our project."
"She will try and you know it very well," he said coldly. "That selfish nut will do anything to make her crazy dream come true. When she finds out your intentions, she will turn against you... against us... and then it will be difficult to get rid of her."
"I know that, my friend, but I'm not as worried as you are. A creature like her, who only desires destruction, was never smart enough to understand when she was being manipulated and when not. Do you think anything has changed now? Do you think months of imprisonment have made her more acute? No. She will try to stop us, yes, but a person like her lacks intellect, imagination and will eventually make a mistake that will cost her life."
"How can you be sure?"
"Alessandro proved it in my place. That is why I chose her for the war in London. You guys are Imitations with a rational purpose, but she is pure self-destructive irrationality. She has no creativity and is unable to fight for something better, no, she only fights for the Absolute Nothing. Those who fight to destroy lack willpower, lack of imagination and lack of strength. This is the truth, my friend."
"So you're not going to stop her?"
"Not yet. I'll wait for her to come to me and that's when I'll kill her."
Vergil rose from his throne and dropped to one knee as if he were trying to get a better feel for a detail of Adocentyn. Amadeus, confused, asked:
"Is something happening?"
"Yes..." He paused for a long time and then stood up. "It looks like young Benjamin will be tested tonight."
"You mean the boy you picked up on the streets of the United States? He's not exactly an ideal Master, I'll be honest. I don't think he will be able to survive..."
"You say? No, I have high hopes. Of course, he's weak, but it's precisely from that weakness that a great strength can arise."
"Are you speaking from personal experience?"
"I've served great men like Djoser and Amenhotep the Great, I've seen with my own eyes how far a person's willpower can lead. Benjamin appears weak, yes, but inside him there's a lion ready to roar."
"Have we arrived?" Benjamin asked ω Saber.
The glow of the moon painted the streets of Adocentyn white. Saber led with a steady pace and always peering around her with an iron attention. Benjamin was feeling pain in his legs and the tiredness was weighing down his eyelids; he almost wanted to sleep standing up.
"Saber, where are we going? I don't see any Servant..."
"You're a magus, you should be able to perceive magical energy."
"I don't perceive anything—"
"This is bad. I'm sure there's a Servant around here, we can't lose sight of our enemy."
The two reached the foot of the immense arena. Benjamin, struck by a great deal of concern, thought about backing up and reflecting on a strategy; Saber entered without saying a word.
"Hey!" he exclaimed. "What are you doing? You can't be so careless in a situation like this!"
"Master, we have a war to fight and I'm tired of waiting."
ω Saber's stubbornness was really problematic. Benjamin heaved an annoyed sigh and followed the woman without protesting to the bitter end, but he knew they were wrong.
As soon as the two entered the arena, a magical barrier blocked the way behind them. The boy immediately realized that he had no way out and then he felt like a lizard locked in a box. He wanted to escape, he wanted to run away, but it was clear that there was nothing he could do. By now Adocentyn had decided that he had to fight; hesitating to the bitter end would lead to nothing, but Benjamin still hoped he could avoid the battle.
Saber was pleased. She could feel the anxiety of waiting on her skin and she liked it; she adored that long moment of silence that anticipated the battle, it was bread for the teeth of that beating heart. Brandishing the sword, the woman looked for the opponent with her eyes and in the end she saw Raphael Maillard arrive together with his Servant: ω Lancer. The man, with two eyes tinged with boredom, approached the center of the arena together with the Servant and said:
"The Master of a Saber-class Servant, huh? A decent opponent, I deduce. It is said that the Servants of that class are the best because of their natural versatility, I can't tell you how true that is and how much fairy tale it is, but I can assure you that I will not take it easy."
The man's French accent, mixed with that barely arrogant tone, made that statement annoying in Benjamin's ears. The boy had the impression of being in front of a haughty aristocrat.
"So, Saber Master, do you start or do I start?"
At that moment they heard a thud. The two Masters turned and saw a girl with her Servant: they were Hetna and α Berserker.
"You shouldn't be here," she said, turning to Benjamin. "Apparently Vergil's plan is already showing flaws. Well, it doesn't matter, that won't stop me from doing my job."
"Your job, huh?" The man reviewed both Saber's young Master and the new participant. "I can't believe I'll have to face an Imitation."
"You were pretty quick to notice it—"
"Did you really think you could hide your nature? Monster. Abomination. You're just a mistake and I will gladly wipe you off the face of this planet. Chien de Mercure."
A dog made of mercury attempted to bite Hetna, but was cut in half by α Berserker's blade.
"Not yet. I'll wait for her to come to me and that's when I'll kill her."
Vergil rose from his throne and dropped to one knee as if he were trying to get a better feel for a detail of Adocentyn. Amadeus, confused, asked:
"Is something happening?"
"Yes..." He paused for a long time and then stood up. "It looks like young Benjamin will be tested tonight."
"You mean the boy you picked up on the streets of the United States? He's not exactly an ideal Master, I'll be honest. I don't think he will be able to survive..."
"You say? No, I have high hopes. Of course, he's weak, but it's precisely from that weakness that a great strength can arise."
"Are you speaking from personal experience?"
"I've served great men like Djoser and Amenhotep the Great, I've seen with my own eyes how far a person's willpower can lead. Benjamin appears weak, yes, but inside him there's a lion ready to roar."
"Have we arrived?" Benjamin asked ω Saber.
The glow of the moon painted the streets of Adocentyn white. Saber led with a steady pace and always peering around her with an iron attention. Benjamin was feeling pain in his legs and the tiredness was weighing down his eyelids; he almost wanted to sleep standing up.
"Saber, where are we going? I don't see any Servant..."
"You're a magus, you should be able to perceive magical energy."
"I don't perceive anything—"
"This is bad. I'm sure there's a Servant around here, we can't lose sight of our enemy."
The two reached the foot of the immense arena. Benjamin, struck by a great deal of concern, thought about backing up and reflecting on a strategy; Saber entered without saying a word.
"Hey!" he exclaimed. "What are you doing? You can't be so careless in a situation like this!"
"Master, we have a war to fight and I'm tired of waiting."
ω Saber's stubbornness was really problematic. Benjamin heaved an annoyed sigh and followed the woman without protesting to the bitter end, but he knew they were wrong.
As soon as the two entered the arena, a magical barrier blocked the way behind them. The boy immediately realized that he had no way out and then he felt like a lizard locked in a box. He wanted to escape, he wanted to run away, but it was clear that there was nothing he could do. By now Adocentyn had decided that he had to fight; hesitating to the bitter end would lead to nothing, but Benjamin still hoped he could avoid the battle.
Saber was pleased. She could feel the anxiety of waiting on her skin and she liked it; she adored that long moment of silence that anticipated the battle, it was bread for the teeth of that beating heart. Brandishing the sword, the woman looked for the opponent with her eyes and in the end she saw Raphael Maillard arrive together with his Servant: ω Lancer. The man, with two eyes tinged with boredom, approached the center of the arena together with the Servant and said:
"The Master of a Saber-class Servant, huh? A decent opponent, I deduce. It is said that the Servants of that class are the best because of their natural versatility, I can't tell you how true that is and how much fairy tale it is, but I can assure you that I will not take it easy."
The man's French accent, mixed with that barely arrogant tone, made that statement annoying in Benjamin's ears. The boy had the impression of being in front of a haughty aristocrat.
"So, Saber Master, do you start or do I start?"
At that moment they heard a thud. The two Masters turned and saw a girl with her Servant: they were Hetna and α Berserker.
"You shouldn't be here," she said, turning to Benjamin. "Apparently Vergil's plan is already showing flaws. Well, it doesn't matter, that won't stop me from doing my job."
"Your job, huh?" The man reviewed both Saber's young Master and the new participant. "I can't believe I'll have to face an Imitation."
"You were pretty quick to notice it—"
"Did you really think you could hide your nature? Monster. Abomination. You're just a mistake and I will gladly wipe you off the face of this planet. Chien de Mercure."
A dog made of mercury attempted to bite Hetna, but was cut in half by α Berserker's blade.
"Oh," Raphael said with slight surprise. "Wrong move. I should have imagined an intervention from your Servant."
"You're a fool. Did you really think I'd let myself be killed by a lousy worm like you? Berserker, attack."
That Servant didn't look like a bad person, in reality she didn't even look like a 'Berserker'. Her features and her bearing made one think of some kind of saint, even though her revealing dress betrayed this conjecture.
When the Servant of Hetna began to approach Raphael, firmly brandishing sword and shield, ω Lancer immediately intervened and, with a decisive attack, struck the woman. Berserker, who had managed to parry the blow quickly, was pushed back by the impact.
The two Servants didn't even exchange a word. After a long minute of silence, the battle broke out.
Lancer's swift and determined blows were constantly parried by the shield or stopped by Berserker's blade. A blow from the man caught the opponent off guard, the attack was immediately followed by a very quick hit; the girl successfully defended herself and counterattacked.
While the two Servants were engaged in a fight to the death, Raphael devoted his attention to Hetna completely forgetting about Benjamin; he had done it voluntarily. In fact, the man didn't consider Saber's Master a worthy opponent, so for him it was not worth it to pay too much attention to an amateur.
"Chien de Mercure."
The mercury hound attempted to bite Hetna, but was first avoided and then cut in half by a mystical blade.
"Mm...? Those are Arabic swords or am I wrong? Scimitars, right? I'm pleased to see that you're a magus with a minimum of tastes. Amateur summoners always tend to have little imagination. You don't know how boring it is to see the same medieval sword with a cross-shaped hilt."
Hetna didn't answer and fired the mystical weapon at the opponent.
"You underestimate me, monster." A mercury shield rose in front of Raphael and the blade was blocked. "Did you really think you could defeat me so easily? You really are stupid, monster"
Benjamin, who remained aside along with ω Saber, saw those clashes and immediately realized he was not up to par. He couldn't fight like that and he couldn't help his Servant win against enemies of that caliber. He realized he was unprepared, too weak for this war. But Saber hadn't lost that determination in her gaze. He understood that she wanted to fight. What could Benjamin do? Stop her from throwing herself headlong into that deadly dance? And how? He was not as strong as her and he certainly could not oppose a powerful creature armed with a sword.
In that moment, the words that his grandfather said to him during his eighteenth birthday came back to his memory; he almost laughed. He wanted to laugh out of sadness. For a single moment he had deluded himself that he was 'special' or that he was even on the right path to fulfill his destiny, but he was nowhere near the skill of those Masters who were dueling. No. He was weak and they were strong. He was too inexperienced, while they were light years ahead of him. He thought he had been duped, that he had been deluded by himself... but he didn't blame himself, because he knew that it would be useless to warn himself for having believed, even for a short time, that he was destined for something better.
"Doubt is dangerous, Master," said ω Saber.
"Huh?" He had two embittered eyes.
"The more you listen to the words of doubt, the more you chain yourself. You must always have the courage to take the leap and try your luck, otherwise inaction will kill you."
"I can't do this, Saber, don't you understand? I'm too weak to—"
"You're not 'weak', Master, you simply haven't discovered your strength yet. When the Romans invaded my homeland and threatened my people, I did not allow myself to be stopped by doubt. I knew I had little chance of winning, but I still tried and succeeded where many had failed. Do you know why?"
He shook his head.
"Because I never stopped to reflect on who was 'strong' and who was 'weak', I acted and gave my all to triumph. You, now, see them and think you are not powerful enough to be able to defeat them. What if you're wrong? You can't know if you don't try. Action is always better than inaction. Follow my example!"
Saber, having said these words, ran towards the battle.
Lancer and Berserker were still fighting each other when they were stopped by the sudden intervention of ω Saber.
"I'm sorry to interrupt, lovebirds, but I'm here too."
"You have courage, I recognize it," ω Lancer exclaimed.
"You will die in tears, Saber," Berserker said with disconcerting calm.
The woman first dodged Berserker's attack and then, after making a jump, she attempted to injure Lancer. The man, with incredible speed, avoided the attack of ω Saber and, swinging his spear, unleashed a series of blows that forced the opponent to change approach.
Berserker, without honor, tried to hit the man from behind, but he immediately turned and parried the blow; he dodged Saber's slash and struck both warriors with the blade of his spear.
"I won't die in this battle," he said. "I have faced Marcomanni, Quadi, Iazyges, Chatti, and many other enemies. None of them ever managed to kill me and so, like them, you two will fail too. So it is and so it must be. I'll be the one to triumph."
The two warriors, with a short team effort, attacked the opponent at the same time, but he was able to dodge both blows and responded quickly. Only α Berserker fell to the ground, ω Saber resisted the opponent's attack and attempted a counterattack. Lancer stopped the blade and, moving the spear with skill, caused the opponent to lose her balance.
"Son of—!" Saber got up immediately. "Die, bastard!"
The man managed to dodge the sword three times in a row before launching an attack that sent Saber to the ground.
"You lack technique. Pompeianus would've said: 'You are made of wood like trees, and like a tree you will fall'."
"You like the sound of your voice so much, huh?"
"The only sound I prefer is the one that follows the end of a victorious battle."
There was something familiar in the way that man behaved. Saber's nemesis was similar to him in some ways. Vercingetorix's great nemesis loved to talk, talk and talk. She was an arrogant, haughty person, too immersed in her own greatness to pay attention to the reality of her actions. That man, that Lancer, was similar to Gaius Julius Caesar.
"Where are you from, ω Lancer?"
"Mm? Do you really think I'll reveal my identity so easily?"
"No, it doesn't matter. I don't think I need confirmation. I have already guessed that you are a Roman."
"And how did you come to this conclusion—?"
"The Romans are all the same: arrogant, selfish, proud, self-centered... You feel at the center of everything, you have no respect for others and you believe you are masters of the world. You speak as if you were a sage, but it is clear that you have a Roman soul."
"You speak as if you were an enemy of Rome..."
"I am. I have always been the enemy of the Romans and I will continue to be as long as I have life!"
"You're a fool. Did you really think I'd let myself be killed by a lousy worm like you? Berserker, attack."
That Servant didn't look like a bad person, in reality she didn't even look like a 'Berserker'. Her features and her bearing made one think of some kind of saint, even though her revealing dress betrayed this conjecture.
When the Servant of Hetna began to approach Raphael, firmly brandishing sword and shield, ω Lancer immediately intervened and, with a decisive attack, struck the woman. Berserker, who had managed to parry the blow quickly, was pushed back by the impact.
The two Servants didn't even exchange a word. After a long minute of silence, the battle broke out.
Lancer's swift and determined blows were constantly parried by the shield or stopped by Berserker's blade. A blow from the man caught the opponent off guard, the attack was immediately followed by a very quick hit; the girl successfully defended herself and counterattacked.
While the two Servants were engaged in a fight to the death, Raphael devoted his attention to Hetna completely forgetting about Benjamin; he had done it voluntarily. In fact, the man didn't consider Saber's Master a worthy opponent, so for him it was not worth it to pay too much attention to an amateur.
"Chien de Mercure."
The mercury hound attempted to bite Hetna, but was first avoided and then cut in half by a mystical blade.
"Mm...? Those are Arabic swords or am I wrong? Scimitars, right? I'm pleased to see that you're a magus with a minimum of tastes. Amateur summoners always tend to have little imagination. You don't know how boring it is to see the same medieval sword with a cross-shaped hilt."
Hetna didn't answer and fired the mystical weapon at the opponent.
"You underestimate me, monster." A mercury shield rose in front of Raphael and the blade was blocked. "Did you really think you could defeat me so easily? You really are stupid, monster"
Benjamin, who remained aside along with ω Saber, saw those clashes and immediately realized he was not up to par. He couldn't fight like that and he couldn't help his Servant win against enemies of that caliber. He realized he was unprepared, too weak for this war. But Saber hadn't lost that determination in her gaze. He understood that she wanted to fight. What could Benjamin do? Stop her from throwing herself headlong into that deadly dance? And how? He was not as strong as her and he certainly could not oppose a powerful creature armed with a sword.
In that moment, the words that his grandfather said to him during his eighteenth birthday came back to his memory; he almost laughed. He wanted to laugh out of sadness. For a single moment he had deluded himself that he was 'special' or that he was even on the right path to fulfill his destiny, but he was nowhere near the skill of those Masters who were dueling. No. He was weak and they were strong. He was too inexperienced, while they were light years ahead of him. He thought he had been duped, that he had been deluded by himself... but he didn't blame himself, because he knew that it would be useless to warn himself for having believed, even for a short time, that he was destined for something better.
"Doubt is dangerous, Master," said ω Saber.
"Huh?" He had two embittered eyes.
"The more you listen to the words of doubt, the more you chain yourself. You must always have the courage to take the leap and try your luck, otherwise inaction will kill you."
"I can't do this, Saber, don't you understand? I'm too weak to—"
"You're not 'weak', Master, you simply haven't discovered your strength yet. When the Romans invaded my homeland and threatened my people, I did not allow myself to be stopped by doubt. I knew I had little chance of winning, but I still tried and succeeded where many had failed. Do you know why?"
He shook his head.
"Because I never stopped to reflect on who was 'strong' and who was 'weak', I acted and gave my all to triumph. You, now, see them and think you are not powerful enough to be able to defeat them. What if you're wrong? You can't know if you don't try. Action is always better than inaction. Follow my example!"
Saber, having said these words, ran towards the battle.
Lancer and Berserker were still fighting each other when they were stopped by the sudden intervention of ω Saber.
"I'm sorry to interrupt, lovebirds, but I'm here too."
"You have courage, I recognize it," ω Lancer exclaimed.
"You will die in tears, Saber," Berserker said with disconcerting calm.
The woman first dodged Berserker's attack and then, after making a jump, she attempted to injure Lancer. The man, with incredible speed, avoided the attack of ω Saber and, swinging his spear, unleashed a series of blows that forced the opponent to change approach.
Berserker, without honor, tried to hit the man from behind, but he immediately turned and parried the blow; he dodged Saber's slash and struck both warriors with the blade of his spear.
"I won't die in this battle," he said. "I have faced Marcomanni, Quadi, Iazyges, Chatti, and many other enemies. None of them ever managed to kill me and so, like them, you two will fail too. So it is and so it must be. I'll be the one to triumph."
The two warriors, with a short team effort, attacked the opponent at the same time, but he was able to dodge both blows and responded quickly. Only α Berserker fell to the ground, ω Saber resisted the opponent's attack and attempted a counterattack. Lancer stopped the blade and, moving the spear with skill, caused the opponent to lose her balance.
"Son of—!" Saber got up immediately. "Die, bastard!"
The man managed to dodge the sword three times in a row before launching an attack that sent Saber to the ground.
"You lack technique. Pompeianus would've said: 'You are made of wood like trees, and like a tree you will fall'."
"You like the sound of your voice so much, huh?"
"The only sound I prefer is the one that follows the end of a victorious battle."
There was something familiar in the way that man behaved. Saber's nemesis was similar to him in some ways. Vercingetorix's great nemesis loved to talk, talk and talk. She was an arrogant, haughty person, too immersed in her own greatness to pay attention to the reality of her actions. That man, that Lancer, was similar to Gaius Julius Caesar.
"Where are you from, ω Lancer?"
"Mm? Do you really think I'll reveal my identity so easily?"
"No, it doesn't matter. I don't think I need confirmation. I have already guessed that you are a Roman."
"And how did you come to this conclusion—?"
"The Romans are all the same: arrogant, selfish, proud, self-centered... You feel at the center of everything, you have no respect for others and you believe you are masters of the world. You speak as if you were a sage, but it is clear that you have a Roman soul."
"You speak as if you were an enemy of Rome..."
"I am. I have always been the enemy of the Romans and I will continue to be as long as I have life!"
"I understand... So you are yet another barbarian who wants the head of an emperor." Lancer jumped forward and, with a kick, sent the opponent flying to the mat. "Once again, my life is in danger because of you beasts. Your souls have not known civilization and for this you yearn for destruction and war, but I will bring order and peace. With this blade, with my spirit, and with my heart I will smother your flames."
Lancer approached the opponent, but didn't notice that Berserker was running towards him. When the man turned around, the girl had already disarmed him and she was already preparing to do a lunge. Lancer, without losing his temper, avoided the blade, struck the enemy with a fist and, grabbing the spear, attacked with force. Berserker raised her shield quickly and blocked the blade only by luck.
"Your opposition is useless. You have already lost, α Berserker."
A kick sent Berserker flying against Saber.
"Both you and ω Saber will die on this battlefield."
"Corbeau de Mercure!" Raphael Maillard summoned a flock of crows made of mercury.
The six mystical swords, tinged with a purple color, surrounding Hetna, began to spin at high speed. Those birds were cut to pieces and, when the entire flock was exterminated, those blades were fired forward. A mercury shield protected Raphael.
"I wonder how many blades you can summon... But I have the impression that there's no real limit to your summoning ability," he commented.
"You are insightful. I'm pleased to know that the AMPM has such keen members, the whole of France should be proud of it."
"Spare me the sarcasm, woman, I know perfectly well who you are: a monster. You Imitations are only monsters, beasts, anomalies, talking corpses if not puppets. You belong to the same race as that monster called Yukiko Kumahira! I look at you and what I see is just the umpteenth bestiality of the human race!"
Hetna didn't say a single word, but she summoned several scimitars and threw them forward. Raphael, in front of that shower of blades, did nothing but evoke a triple shield of mercury. One broken, two remained; broken the second, the third remained, but the blades stopped coming. When the man lowered his shield he exhibited a winning grin and exclaimed:
"Two-hundred. Here is your limit. It took a little while to force you to show your cards. Who would have thought, even you Imitations have sensitive nerves! But tell me, girl, did you really think you were smarter than me?"
Hetna didn't answer, but she couldn't hide the embarrassment of that defeat, her very face was crossed by tinctures of despair, disappointment, and, finally, anger. So much anger.
"Come on, girl, make your next move. Show me what you can do."
"I will grant your wish!" Hetna ran towards the man and summoned two swords. "Bastard!"
The first blade was fired and Raphael blocked it with the mercury shield. Hetna used the second as a point of support to make a jump, evoked a series of blades on which she began to run and then made a last leap to finish in front of the opponent.
"So...?" he said confused.
"Look around you, know-it-all."
The swords, still suspended in the air, had practically surrounded the man. The girl snapped her fingers and all thirty of her blades were fired in unison. Raphael created a thick bubble-shaped mercury shield and hid inside it to save his life. None of the blades hurt him.
"Are you hiding like a worm?"
Lancer approached the opponent, but didn't notice that Berserker was running towards him. When the man turned around, the girl had already disarmed him and she was already preparing to do a lunge. Lancer, without losing his temper, avoided the blade, struck the enemy with a fist and, grabbing the spear, attacked with force. Berserker raised her shield quickly and blocked the blade only by luck.
"Your opposition is useless. You have already lost, α Berserker."
A kick sent Berserker flying against Saber.
"Both you and ω Saber will die on this battlefield."
"Corbeau de Mercure!" Raphael Maillard summoned a flock of crows made of mercury.
The six mystical swords, tinged with a purple color, surrounding Hetna, began to spin at high speed. Those birds were cut to pieces and, when the entire flock was exterminated, those blades were fired forward. A mercury shield protected Raphael.
"I wonder how many blades you can summon... But I have the impression that there's no real limit to your summoning ability," he commented.
"You are insightful. I'm pleased to know that the AMPM has such keen members, the whole of France should be proud of it."
"Spare me the sarcasm, woman, I know perfectly well who you are: a monster. You Imitations are only monsters, beasts, anomalies, talking corpses if not puppets. You belong to the same race as that monster called Yukiko Kumahira! I look at you and what I see is just the umpteenth bestiality of the human race!"
Hetna didn't say a single word, but she summoned several scimitars and threw them forward. Raphael, in front of that shower of blades, did nothing but evoke a triple shield of mercury. One broken, two remained; broken the second, the third remained, but the blades stopped coming. When the man lowered his shield he exhibited a winning grin and exclaimed:
"Two-hundred. Here is your limit. It took a little while to force you to show your cards. Who would have thought, even you Imitations have sensitive nerves! But tell me, girl, did you really think you were smarter than me?"
Hetna didn't answer, but she couldn't hide the embarrassment of that defeat, her very face was crossed by tinctures of despair, disappointment, and, finally, anger. So much anger.
"Come on, girl, make your next move. Show me what you can do."
"I will grant your wish!" Hetna ran towards the man and summoned two swords. "Bastard!"
The first blade was fired and Raphael blocked it with the mercury shield. Hetna used the second as a point of support to make a jump, evoked a series of blades on which she began to run and then made a last leap to finish in front of the opponent.
"So...?" he said confused.
"Look around you, know-it-all."
The swords, still suspended in the air, had practically surrounded the man. The girl snapped her fingers and all thirty of her blades were fired in unison. Raphael created a thick bubble-shaped mercury shield and hid inside it to save his life. None of the blades hurt him.
"Are you hiding like a worm?"
"You folks have no idea what strategy is, do you? Chien de Mercure!"
A mastiff emerged from the mercury bubble. Hetna quickly backed away from being bitten and, after gaining enough ground, summoned scimitars to kill the beast. When she looked up, she realized, however, that Raphael wasn't there and, where the bubble used to be, there was only a puddle of mercury. The girl made the mistake of approaching and in a moment her ankles were blocked by mercury chains that came out of that pool.
"Curse...!"
Raphael appeared behind her and pushed her over the pool. The chains also bound her wrists and throat.
"Now you are completely immobilized, monster. In the 1950s, the AMPM used to punish traitors by keeping them imprisoned in this way for entire weeks, without eating, and let them drinking from the dog bowl. After all, what is a traitor if not an animal? And what is an Imitation if not a beast? I have to be honest, seeing you on all fours makes me want to bring you a bowl with your name on it—"
"Bastard! Let me go! Let me go!" she screamed.
"Why should I do that? By now I have you in my hand..."
Hetna summoned magical swords that were immediately fired, but none of these managed to hit the man.
"Not easy to aim in that position, huh? Poor you, ma chère. I realize you probably didn't choose to become a monster, but it doesn't matter if this second life was forced upon you or not. Un animal est un animal... An animal still remains an animal, even if it has not chosen to be one."
Raphael kicked Hetna, being careful to target her chest well. The girl's cry of suffering triggered a disgusted reaction in the man.
"All fiction. You're just a bad lie!" He hit her again. "There is nothing true in you, nothing. You're only beasts with human aspects, you're nothing else. I was once fooled by you, but have since developed utter disgust for your race. This is the time to die, monster."
In that instant Raphael was hit in the face by a fist. It was Benjamin Palmer. The French magus lost control of the mercury and Hetna was able to free herself.
"Idiot!" Raphael thundered. "You're an idiot! Chien de Mercure!"
Benjamin was bitten in the left arm by the mastiff. The boy punched the creature, but it was too strong to be destroyed by human hands.
"Fuck! Release me, son of—Aaaaah! " Benjamin felt that the beast's fangs were tearing apart his arm. "Son of a bitch!"
Hetna's blade cut the beast in two. Benjamin, injured, walked away and thanked the woman.
"Don't thank me, I didn't do it for you," she grumbled.
"So that's the way it is?" Raphael said nervously. "This is absurd... truly inconceivable. A brat helping a monster, but what's this all about?! Did I become the protagonist of some joke or—? Tell me, Saber Master, why the hell did you help that beast."
"I don't like dickheads like you, that's all," Benjamin replied, raising his middle finger.
"So you want to be the first to be eliminated from the competition? Good." Raphael used a Command Seal. "Lancer, I order you to kill Saber."
A mastiff emerged from the mercury bubble. Hetna quickly backed away from being bitten and, after gaining enough ground, summoned scimitars to kill the beast. When she looked up, she realized, however, that Raphael wasn't there and, where the bubble used to be, there was only a puddle of mercury. The girl made the mistake of approaching and in a moment her ankles were blocked by mercury chains that came out of that pool.
"Curse...!"
Raphael appeared behind her and pushed her over the pool. The chains also bound her wrists and throat.
"Now you are completely immobilized, monster. In the 1950s, the AMPM used to punish traitors by keeping them imprisoned in this way for entire weeks, without eating, and let them drinking from the dog bowl. After all, what is a traitor if not an animal? And what is an Imitation if not a beast? I have to be honest, seeing you on all fours makes me want to bring you a bowl with your name on it—"
"Bastard! Let me go! Let me go!" she screamed.
"Why should I do that? By now I have you in my hand..."
Hetna summoned magical swords that were immediately fired, but none of these managed to hit the man.
"Not easy to aim in that position, huh? Poor you, ma chère. I realize you probably didn't choose to become a monster, but it doesn't matter if this second life was forced upon you or not. Un animal est un animal... An animal still remains an animal, even if it has not chosen to be one."
Raphael kicked Hetna, being careful to target her chest well. The girl's cry of suffering triggered a disgusted reaction in the man.
"All fiction. You're just a bad lie!" He hit her again. "There is nothing true in you, nothing. You're only beasts with human aspects, you're nothing else. I was once fooled by you, but have since developed utter disgust for your race. This is the time to die, monster."
In that instant Raphael was hit in the face by a fist. It was Benjamin Palmer. The French magus lost control of the mercury and Hetna was able to free herself.
"Idiot!" Raphael thundered. "You're an idiot! Chien de Mercure!"
Benjamin was bitten in the left arm by the mastiff. The boy punched the creature, but it was too strong to be destroyed by human hands.
"Fuck! Release me, son of—Aaaaah! " Benjamin felt that the beast's fangs were tearing apart his arm. "Son of a bitch!"
Hetna's blade cut the beast in two. Benjamin, injured, walked away and thanked the woman.
"Don't thank me, I didn't do it for you," she grumbled.
"So that's the way it is?" Raphael said nervously. "This is absurd... truly inconceivable. A brat helping a monster, but what's this all about?! Did I become the protagonist of some joke or—? Tell me, Saber Master, why the hell did you help that beast."
"I don't like dickheads like you, that's all," Benjamin replied, raising his middle finger.
"So you want to be the first to be eliminated from the competition? Good." Raphael used a Command Seal. "Lancer, I order you to kill Saber."
Lancer, who was engaged in a battle against α Berserker, heard the Master's order and, without protest, turned his attention to ω Saber.
Lancer's spear managed to breach Saber's defense and inflicted three deep wounds that brought the woman to her knees.
Hetna immediately noticed that Benjamin Palmer's eyes were narrowing with sadness, the boy was clearly about to throw himself into the battlefield to stop ω Lancer. Hetna stood in front of him and, shaking her head, said:
"I advise against it."
He didn't listen to her. He pushed her and ran to his Servant. "Saber, hold on!" he screamed.
Benjamin was wounded, he didn't know how much blood he was losing, but he wasn't going to let that brave warrior, who had believed in him and who had urged him to fight, to die. The boy stood in front of ω Lancer and shielded ω Saber.
"You will die, boy," Raphael's Servant said.
"I know, but I'm not going to let Saber die on her knees."
"So you want to risk your own life to defend the honor of that woman with barbaric blood? Don't you realize this will damage your reputation as a Master? A good Master, as a magus, should stay away from these battles and should never give up their life to defend a weapon—"
"I do not care!" he yelled. "Whether she's a weapon or not, it doesn't matter to me. She believed in me and I won't let her die like this. I prefer to die like a dog. I, after all, am nobody of importance... but she's a king! The least I can do is preserve her honor with my life!"
Lancer said nothing.
Raphael Maillard noticed that the man was lowering his weapon and then, with a tone of reproach, he exclaimed:
"What do you think you're doing, ω Lancer? Forget the sentimentality and get the job done. We must win this war and we will win it. Kill the boy and let's finish this cheap show."
"Master, I don't think—"
"Shall I use another Command Seal, ω Lancer?"
The man lowered his head in submission. "No, I apologize."
Lancer raised his weapon and prepared to hit Benjamin.
Hetna saw that fragile boy being on the verge of death and something, inside her, moved: it was an inexplicable desire to protect him. This had never happened before. She had never wanted to protect a human and she knew it was irrational to have those feelings for that stranger, yet she was feeling them and could not restrain them in any way. Hetna used a Command Seal to order α Berserker to use her Noble Phantasm.
"So be it!" exclaimed Berserker, who started running towards Lancer.
The man immediately noticed something strange and, seeing the opponent approaching, he turned to attack her. The spear of the Heroic Spirit was blocked by the shield and shortly thereafter the woman's sword came so close to his throat that it nearly decapitated him. Lancer made a quick leap back.
"Are you going to protect them, Berserker?"
She smiled.
"I understand. Then I'll kill you—"
Lancer's spear managed to breach Saber's defense and inflicted three deep wounds that brought the woman to her knees.
Hetna immediately noticed that Benjamin Palmer's eyes were narrowing with sadness, the boy was clearly about to throw himself into the battlefield to stop ω Lancer. Hetna stood in front of him and, shaking her head, said:
"I advise against it."
He didn't listen to her. He pushed her and ran to his Servant. "Saber, hold on!" he screamed.
Benjamin was wounded, he didn't know how much blood he was losing, but he wasn't going to let that brave warrior, who had believed in him and who had urged him to fight, to die. The boy stood in front of ω Lancer and shielded ω Saber.
"You will die, boy," Raphael's Servant said.
"I know, but I'm not going to let Saber die on her knees."
"So you want to risk your own life to defend the honor of that woman with barbaric blood? Don't you realize this will damage your reputation as a Master? A good Master, as a magus, should stay away from these battles and should never give up their life to defend a weapon—"
"I do not care!" he yelled. "Whether she's a weapon or not, it doesn't matter to me. She believed in me and I won't let her die like this. I prefer to die like a dog. I, after all, am nobody of importance... but she's a king! The least I can do is preserve her honor with my life!"
Lancer said nothing.
Raphael Maillard noticed that the man was lowering his weapon and then, with a tone of reproach, he exclaimed:
"What do you think you're doing, ω Lancer? Forget the sentimentality and get the job done. We must win this war and we will win it. Kill the boy and let's finish this cheap show."
"Master, I don't think—"
"Shall I use another Command Seal, ω Lancer?"
The man lowered his head in submission. "No, I apologize."
Lancer raised his weapon and prepared to hit Benjamin.
Hetna saw that fragile boy being on the verge of death and something, inside her, moved: it was an inexplicable desire to protect him. This had never happened before. She had never wanted to protect a human and she knew it was irrational to have those feelings for that stranger, yet she was feeling them and could not restrain them in any way. Hetna used a Command Seal to order α Berserker to use her Noble Phantasm.
"So be it!" exclaimed Berserker, who started running towards Lancer.
The man immediately noticed something strange and, seeing the opponent approaching, he turned to attack her. The spear of the Heroic Spirit was blocked by the shield and shortly thereafter the woman's sword came so close to his throat that it nearly decapitated him. Lancer made a quick leap back.
"Are you going to protect them, Berserker?"
She smiled.
"I understand. Then I'll kill you—"
At that moment something strange happened to Berserker: a coal-black mist rose and surrounded the girl's body.
"You're unlucky, ω Lancer, apparently you will be my first victim."
That black fog grew thicker and thicker.
"You're about to be the victim of the punishment that we, rulers of the world, inflict on the weak who dare to oppose our power!"
Lancer felt his body stiffen and when he tried to move he found he was paralyzed. The opponent's Noble Phantasm was already underway. Berserker opened her lids and revealed two blood eyes, similar to those of a demon.
"All subversives must be killed! I, Servius Sulpicius Galba Caesar Augustus, have decided that the penalty for the subversive traitor will be crucifixion! Infelix Lignum (The Cross of My Justice)!"
An iron cross rose behind ω Lancer. The man was captured by chains and tied to the iron from which long spikes emerged. The spikes pierced his hands, arms, legs and even hips.
The man's heartbreaking screams unsettled all present except α Berserker. The girl, whose true identity was that of Emperor Galba Caesar Augustus, grinned and then let out an uncontrolled laugh from her mouth. She was no longer the restrained girl she used to be, it seemed she had been possessed.
No one understood what was happening at the Servant, no one except Hetna. The madness, typical of a Berserker-class Servant, couldn't even touch Galba's mind in a normal situation. However, due to the Hatred for the Traitor — the Heroic Spirit's skill — as soon as she used her Noble Phantasm, that madness infected her mind. In the face of those who were judged 'traitor' or 'rebel', Galba lost control. Berserker's calm was just a mask, a deception. The real α Berserker had just shown her evil face to everyone present.
Under that same moon that had just witnessed the crucifixion of ω Lancer, Friedrich Wolff was singing in a low voice. Specter, as soon as she entered the house in which they had decided to camp, heard the melody coming from the roof and, intrigued, she sat in a corner to listen carefully to the words of the Master.
"𝅘𝅥𝅮 All the lonely people, where do they all come from? All the lonely people, where do they all belong? 𝅘𝅥𝅮"
"You're unlucky, ω Lancer, apparently you will be my first victim."
That black fog grew thicker and thicker.
"You're about to be the victim of the punishment that we, rulers of the world, inflict on the weak who dare to oppose our power!"
Lancer felt his body stiffen and when he tried to move he found he was paralyzed. The opponent's Noble Phantasm was already underway. Berserker opened her lids and revealed two blood eyes, similar to those of a demon.
"All subversives must be killed! I, Servius Sulpicius Galba Caesar Augustus, have decided that the penalty for the subversive traitor will be crucifixion! Infelix Lignum (The Cross of My Justice)!"
An iron cross rose behind ω Lancer. The man was captured by chains and tied to the iron from which long spikes emerged. The spikes pierced his hands, arms, legs and even hips.
The man's heartbreaking screams unsettled all present except α Berserker. The girl, whose true identity was that of Emperor Galba Caesar Augustus, grinned and then let out an uncontrolled laugh from her mouth. She was no longer the restrained girl she used to be, it seemed she had been possessed.
No one understood what was happening at the Servant, no one except Hetna. The madness, typical of a Berserker-class Servant, couldn't even touch Galba's mind in a normal situation. However, due to the Hatred for the Traitor — the Heroic Spirit's skill — as soon as she used her Noble Phantasm, that madness infected her mind. In the face of those who were judged 'traitor' or 'rebel', Galba lost control. Berserker's calm was just a mask, a deception. The real α Berserker had just shown her evil face to everyone present.
Under that same moon that had just witnessed the crucifixion of ω Lancer, Friedrich Wolff was singing in a low voice. Specter, as soon as she entered the house in which they had decided to camp, heard the melody coming from the roof and, intrigued, she sat in a corner to listen carefully to the words of the Master.
"𝅘𝅥𝅮 All the lonely people, where do they all come from? All the lonely people, where do they all belong? 𝅘𝅥𝅮"
He never raised his voice, it was as if he were talking to himself; but his gaze was on the moon. There was something in those words that made the woman uncomfortable. There was sadness in those words, but also a feeling of absolute loneliness and she did not understand why. They were just words, nothing special. They were rhythmic, yes, but that didn't make them more or less different. They were the usual verses of humanity, yet, at that precise moment, the woman felt almost overwhelmed by that song, perhaps even crushed; both physically and mentally. She had never experienced those sensations.
Specter didn't notice when Friedrich stopped singing and, when he realized he was being watched, he asked her:
"Do you like it?"
"Eh...?" she said as if she were stunned.
"The song."
"Did you write it?"
"No. It's from The Beatles and the song is called Eleanor Rigby."
"I like it, yes..." she murmured.
"My father loved them. I was six when he made me hear this for the first time, I cried and my mother got mad at him. Haha... What a woman my mother was!"
"Why were you singing it?"
"Today is September 20, the day my father died. I wanted to honor his memory with his favorite song, that's all."
"When did it happen?"
"Seven years ago."
"Do you miss him?"
"Sometimes, but there's nothing you can do about it, right? We can go on as long as we want, but we cannot forget the people we lose. Those will always remain in our hearts. My father, my mother, my brother... they live in my heart and I will continue to sing for them."
"Do you have an answer?"
"To what?"
"To those words you sang. Where do lonely people come from?"
"What do you think?" he asked curiously.
"I'm a demon, I can't tell you—"
"Give it a go."
"Well... I have seen some of my fellow demons live without ever knowing happiness. Demons, after all, are all like that, you know? We are so obsessed with the need to satisfy our instincts that we don't dwell on our existence. We prefer to constantly implement our nature rather than choose freely and follow a different path. The demons are always alone, this is the truth. I could tell you that all this loneliness comes from a lack of alternatives..."
"You may be right, but I believe alternatives must be created not expected. Those who wait are not going anywhere. You have to learn to jump, fall, and get up. You can't live without learning to take risks. The problem is that many people prefer not to." He paused briefly. "I think lonely people come from those free choices. The freer you are, the more alone you become. It's a truth."
"But even in the absence of freedom there is loneliness," she commented.
"That may also be true."
"So, at the end of the day, we can conclude that there is no answer to my question."
"And this is the same conclusion that the song reaches: there is no answer. We just have to accept it."
"And that's okay with you? It's strange. Wouldn't it be much better to know the truth and try to make the life of every human being better?"
"It would be nice, but impossible."
"And that's okay with you..." she repeated in a low voice.
"You don't live to get answers, but to keep asking."
Specter didn't notice when Friedrich stopped singing and, when he realized he was being watched, he asked her:
"Do you like it?"
"Eh...?" she said as if she were stunned.
"The song."
"Did you write it?"
"No. It's from The Beatles and the song is called Eleanor Rigby."
"I like it, yes..." she murmured.
"My father loved them. I was six when he made me hear this for the first time, I cried and my mother got mad at him. Haha... What a woman my mother was!"
"Why were you singing it?"
"Today is September 20, the day my father died. I wanted to honor his memory with his favorite song, that's all."
"When did it happen?"
"Seven years ago."
"Do you miss him?"
"Sometimes, but there's nothing you can do about it, right? We can go on as long as we want, but we cannot forget the people we lose. Those will always remain in our hearts. My father, my mother, my brother... they live in my heart and I will continue to sing for them."
"Do you have an answer?"
"To what?"
"To those words you sang. Where do lonely people come from?"
"What do you think?" he asked curiously.
"I'm a demon, I can't tell you—"
"Give it a go."
"Well... I have seen some of my fellow demons live without ever knowing happiness. Demons, after all, are all like that, you know? We are so obsessed with the need to satisfy our instincts that we don't dwell on our existence. We prefer to constantly implement our nature rather than choose freely and follow a different path. The demons are always alone, this is the truth. I could tell you that all this loneliness comes from a lack of alternatives..."
"You may be right, but I believe alternatives must be created not expected. Those who wait are not going anywhere. You have to learn to jump, fall, and get up. You can't live without learning to take risks. The problem is that many people prefer not to." He paused briefly. "I think lonely people come from those free choices. The freer you are, the more alone you become. It's a truth."
"But even in the absence of freedom there is loneliness," she commented.
"That may also be true."
"So, at the end of the day, we can conclude that there is no answer to my question."
"And this is the same conclusion that the song reaches: there is no answer. We just have to accept it."
"And that's okay with you? It's strange. Wouldn't it be much better to know the truth and try to make the life of every human being better?"
"It would be nice, but impossible."
"And that's okay with you..." she repeated in a low voice.
"You don't live to get answers, but to keep asking."
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| 'Galba's true nature' by BikoWolf |
