"Where will all this take you?"
That question came out of the mouth of a wounded man, a magus who could barely stand. In his head he was thinking of a way to be able to escape from the residence safe and sound, but in his heart he still hoped to be able to convince that demon he was facing not to pursue her evil plans. He wasn't doing it out of pity, but to fulfill his duty as a member of the Order of Tot to the end. If he couldn't face that demon with violence, he could at least hope to persuade her to desist.
"To death… I tell you…" He leaned against a wall of his immense dining room. "Everything you're doing… it's not going to do any good…"
Yukiko Kumahira sat at the table, in front of the large window overlooking the urban panorama of Cairo, and she ate, comfortably, some delicious and soft rare meat seasoned with excellent quality spices. At the foot of the chair were the corpses of the bodyguards who were supposed to defend that magus who was now, with difficulty, trying to survive.
"Do you really think you can win… this war…?" he coughed.
"Mm-mm." She swallowed the succulent morsel of meat. "Hesham Sharaf. You've always been a particularly intelligent man, am I right? How can you doubt my abilities after all I've done? I have destroyed the Clock Tower and the Coven, this means that the two most important magi organizations in Europe have been completely wiped out. This means that you, my dear Sharaf, should have some faith in my ability to win the war."
"So you're really going to pursue this crazy plan of yours…?"
"You people always use such emotional and dramatic words, yet you don't even realize what they really mean. What's 'crazy' about my plan? Is it by any chance 'crazy' to desire the Void? No, I don't think so. I believe that true madness is the one exhibited by people like you. Have you seen yourself in the mirror, Sharaf? You are on your deathbed and yet you are determined not to tell me how to access Adocentyn. Why waste your breath giving me some sort of sermon? Wouldn't it be much more convenient to make your last moments of life useful for something?"
"I will never give you what you seek…! Crazy little girl, you'll never be able to—!"
"Yahya, Bassem, Ahmed, Youssef… They are all dead, Sharaf. You know why, don't you? You know it's their stupidity to blame. They could have surrendered and given me what I ask for, however they preferred to resist to the end and I sent them to the Creator. You will be next. So instead of wasting your time calling me crazy, you better tell me what you know."
"You'll never go to Adocentyn… that's all I know…" he panted.
Yukiko turned to better see that poor man while he persistently tried to cling to life. He gritted his teeth, breathed slowly, closed his eyes for a few seconds and reopened them to turn them upwards; she enjoyed the sight of that fragile life that, little by little, slipped into the darkness of death.
"If you value your life that much, tell me what you know. I want to have access to Adocentyn and you will help me or you will die like the others. I know perfectly well that you are looking for a way to reach Adocentyn and I bet you what you want that you have found the solution."
"No, it's just a prototype…" he murmured softly.
"There we are! Finally some sincerity! Go ahead then! Tell me everything!" she exclaimed joyfully.
"Like I said…it's just a prototype…I don't think it's going to work…"
"Have you ever tried it?"
"No, but… but…" he was losing his lucidity, he felt tired and heavy.
"Do you want to live, Sharaf? Then fight to the last."
"I can only tell you that… the calculations are correct on a purely theoretical level, but none of us have ever worked that magecraft… it is something that is very risky."
"What is it exactly?"
"A teleporter… it uses some principles of alchemy, then magic crystals, arcane geometry, mathematics..… but it's only a prototype. It could kill you…"
"It might as well not, right?"
"Do you really want to risk that much just to reach Adocentyn…?"
"You have no idea how much I'm willing to sacrifice to achieve my goal. You know where the teleporter is located, don't you?"
He nodded.
"Good. Take me there and remember this: no one but me shall use it. Do as I tell you and you will live, but if I find out you have sent more magi to Adocentyn I will come after you and choke you with your own intestines. Have I been clear?"
He nodded a second time.
"Excellent. Then I'd say it's time to put this prototype to the test."
That question came out of the mouth of a wounded man, a magus who could barely stand. In his head he was thinking of a way to be able to escape from the residence safe and sound, but in his heart he still hoped to be able to convince that demon he was facing not to pursue her evil plans. He wasn't doing it out of pity, but to fulfill his duty as a member of the Order of Tot to the end. If he couldn't face that demon with violence, he could at least hope to persuade her to desist.
"To death… I tell you…" He leaned against a wall of his immense dining room. "Everything you're doing… it's not going to do any good…"
Yukiko Kumahira sat at the table, in front of the large window overlooking the urban panorama of Cairo, and she ate, comfortably, some delicious and soft rare meat seasoned with excellent quality spices. At the foot of the chair were the corpses of the bodyguards who were supposed to defend that magus who was now, with difficulty, trying to survive.
"Do you really think you can win… this war…?" he coughed.
"Mm-mm." She swallowed the succulent morsel of meat. "Hesham Sharaf. You've always been a particularly intelligent man, am I right? How can you doubt my abilities after all I've done? I have destroyed the Clock Tower and the Coven, this means that the two most important magi organizations in Europe have been completely wiped out. This means that you, my dear Sharaf, should have some faith in my ability to win the war."
"So you're really going to pursue this crazy plan of yours…?"
"You people always use such emotional and dramatic words, yet you don't even realize what they really mean. What's 'crazy' about my plan? Is it by any chance 'crazy' to desire the Void? No, I don't think so. I believe that true madness is the one exhibited by people like you. Have you seen yourself in the mirror, Sharaf? You are on your deathbed and yet you are determined not to tell me how to access Adocentyn. Why waste your breath giving me some sort of sermon? Wouldn't it be much more convenient to make your last moments of life useful for something?"
"I will never give you what you seek…! Crazy little girl, you'll never be able to—!"
"Yahya, Bassem, Ahmed, Youssef… They are all dead, Sharaf. You know why, don't you? You know it's their stupidity to blame. They could have surrendered and given me what I ask for, however they preferred to resist to the end and I sent them to the Creator. You will be next. So instead of wasting your time calling me crazy, you better tell me what you know."
"You'll never go to Adocentyn… that's all I know…" he panted.
Yukiko turned to better see that poor man while he persistently tried to cling to life. He gritted his teeth, breathed slowly, closed his eyes for a few seconds and reopened them to turn them upwards; she enjoyed the sight of that fragile life that, little by little, slipped into the darkness of death.
"If you value your life that much, tell me what you know. I want to have access to Adocentyn and you will help me or you will die like the others. I know perfectly well that you are looking for a way to reach Adocentyn and I bet you what you want that you have found the solution."
"No, it's just a prototype…" he murmured softly.
"There we are! Finally some sincerity! Go ahead then! Tell me everything!" she exclaimed joyfully.
"Like I said…it's just a prototype…I don't think it's going to work…"
"Have you ever tried it?"
"No, but… but…" he was losing his lucidity, he felt tired and heavy.
"Do you want to live, Sharaf? Then fight to the last."
"I can only tell you that… the calculations are correct on a purely theoretical level, but none of us have ever worked that magecraft… it is something that is very risky."
"What is it exactly?"
"A teleporter… it uses some principles of alchemy, then magic crystals, arcane geometry, mathematics..… but it's only a prototype. It could kill you…"
"It might as well not, right?"
"Do you really want to risk that much just to reach Adocentyn…?"
"You have no idea how much I'm willing to sacrifice to achieve my goal. You know where the teleporter is located, don't you?"
He nodded.
"Good. Take me there and remember this: no one but me shall use it. Do as I tell you and you will live, but if I find out you have sent more magi to Adocentyn I will come after you and choke you with your own intestines. Have I been clear?"
He nodded a second time.
"Excellent. Then I'd say it's time to put this prototype to the test."
The moon was illuminating a body on the cross.
The body of Raphael's Heroic Spirit hung from an iron cross—the fearsome Noble Phantasm of α Berserker—yet there was, in the air, the feeling that the battle was not yet over.
Benjamin Palmer was still wounded in the arm and, even though it had stopped bleeding, it still hurt badly; he felt as though he still had a mastiff's teeth implanted in his flesh. Saber had just recovered, she wasn't tired and she had already made up her mind to face Berserker. When the young Master noticed that the Servant was approaching the woman armed with sword and shield, he stopped her and said in a low voice:
"No need, let's just focus on that asshole's Servant."
"Are you talking about Lancer? You don't have to worry about him, Master, he's finished now. He is no longer a threat. Now the only enemy left is the Berserker."
The boy was slightly disappointed by Saber's attitude. He would've expected, at the very least, a thank you. He had tried to protect her and yet it almost seemed as if she didn't care.
On the other side was Hetna, who took some satisfaction in having defeated her opponent's Servant... though she couldn't understand why that Lancer hadn't disappeared yet. That little doubt was crushed constantly by the certainty that no one could escape from Galba's cross.
Raphael was calm. His Servant, his faithful ω Lancer, had just been crucified yet, for some reason, he gave the impression of having the situation under control.
"This is a waste of time."
Raphael's presumptuous words struck Hetna and left her dumbfounded. It was clear that ω Lancer was about to die, but that arrogant French Master was not worried and, on the contrary, continued to behave as if he had victory in his hand. The same astonishment also struck Benjamin, who was already thinking of ordering his Servant to finish off Lancer.
"Today I saw them all: a beast, a brat helping said beast, the worst Saber ever, and also the most banal Berserker ever summoned. Is this supposed to be the Holy Grail War? No, this is a circus and you are all clowns."
The man's arrogance was really annoying to both Benjamin and Hetna. His bored look, his conceited way of speaking, his attitude of a bourgeois intellectual, even his face, were irritating to say the least. Raphael had no respect for his enemies, he had no respect for the Heroic Spirits who faced him, and above all, he had no respect for the entire duel.
"And this situation is an exemplification of the stupidity of this whole battle. I don't understand how an Augusti filius can fall so low as to allow himself to be crucified by a little emperor. React, Lancer. Use your Noble Phantasm and show your true strength to that cheap emperor."
Hetna, shocked, exclaimed, "Are you serious?! Do you really believe your Servant can fight in a situation like that? He's done! You lost!"
"Here's where you're wrong, woman. Although Galba Caesar Augustus may seem like a fearsome Servant, she's still an emperor who reigned just six months. What is six months of reign compared to the nineteen years of the man who has just been crucified? At your service you have a miserable Roman emperor who was famous only for her cruelty and her bad governance! Even nonentities like Caligula or Elagabalus have proved superior to your Heroic Spirit! Remember this lesson: next time you decide to summon a Roman emperor, make sure he's at least one of the powerful ones!"
Hetna was baffled by her opponent's words, yet, looking at Lancer, it was clear that this Heroic Spirit had no chance of escape.
"Do you really believe that the man who is now on the cross is a Servant at the maximum of his energies? Well no. Up until now, all you've done is deal with a Heroic Spirit who's been holding back. But now it's time to show you who you're dealing with! Now is the time to leave the arena to the Stoic Emperor!"
Then Hetna understood.
"I'd say it's time to end the game. You know what to do, ω Lancer: kill them all. Kill those who are threatening you and your homeland! Eliminate your enemies without any mercy!"
Lancer opened his eyes. His pain slowly faded from his face, as if something was washing it away. The air around him was enveloped in a blanket of golden energy; even Lancer's weapon began to glow.
"I do my duty," said the Servant in a cold voice, "without letting anything else distract me." He raised his head. "In that life where your body does not surrender, it is shameful that the soul surrenders first."
The body of Raphael's Heroic Spirit hung from an iron cross—the fearsome Noble Phantasm of α Berserker—yet there was, in the air, the feeling that the battle was not yet over.
Benjamin Palmer was still wounded in the arm and, even though it had stopped bleeding, it still hurt badly; he felt as though he still had a mastiff's teeth implanted in his flesh. Saber had just recovered, she wasn't tired and she had already made up her mind to face Berserker. When the young Master noticed that the Servant was approaching the woman armed with sword and shield, he stopped her and said in a low voice:
"No need, let's just focus on that asshole's Servant."
"Are you talking about Lancer? You don't have to worry about him, Master, he's finished now. He is no longer a threat. Now the only enemy left is the Berserker."
The boy was slightly disappointed by Saber's attitude. He would've expected, at the very least, a thank you. He had tried to protect her and yet it almost seemed as if she didn't care.
On the other side was Hetna, who took some satisfaction in having defeated her opponent's Servant... though she couldn't understand why that Lancer hadn't disappeared yet. That little doubt was crushed constantly by the certainty that no one could escape from Galba's cross.
Raphael was calm. His Servant, his faithful ω Lancer, had just been crucified yet, for some reason, he gave the impression of having the situation under control.
"This is a waste of time."
Raphael's presumptuous words struck Hetna and left her dumbfounded. It was clear that ω Lancer was about to die, but that arrogant French Master was not worried and, on the contrary, continued to behave as if he had victory in his hand. The same astonishment also struck Benjamin, who was already thinking of ordering his Servant to finish off Lancer.
"Today I saw them all: a beast, a brat helping said beast, the worst Saber ever, and also the most banal Berserker ever summoned. Is this supposed to be the Holy Grail War? No, this is a circus and you are all clowns."
The man's arrogance was really annoying to both Benjamin and Hetna. His bored look, his conceited way of speaking, his attitude of a bourgeois intellectual, even his face, were irritating to say the least. Raphael had no respect for his enemies, he had no respect for the Heroic Spirits who faced him, and above all, he had no respect for the entire duel.
"And this situation is an exemplification of the stupidity of this whole battle. I don't understand how an Augusti filius can fall so low as to allow himself to be crucified by a little emperor. React, Lancer. Use your Noble Phantasm and show your true strength to that cheap emperor."
Hetna, shocked, exclaimed, "Are you serious?! Do you really believe your Servant can fight in a situation like that? He's done! You lost!"
"Here's where you're wrong, woman. Although Galba Caesar Augustus may seem like a fearsome Servant, she's still an emperor who reigned just six months. What is six months of reign compared to the nineteen years of the man who has just been crucified? At your service you have a miserable Roman emperor who was famous only for her cruelty and her bad governance! Even nonentities like Caligula or Elagabalus have proved superior to your Heroic Spirit! Remember this lesson: next time you decide to summon a Roman emperor, make sure he's at least one of the powerful ones!"
Hetna was baffled by her opponent's words, yet, looking at Lancer, it was clear that this Heroic Spirit had no chance of escape.
"Do you really believe that the man who is now on the cross is a Servant at the maximum of his energies? Well no. Up until now, all you've done is deal with a Heroic Spirit who's been holding back. But now it's time to show you who you're dealing with! Now is the time to leave the arena to the Stoic Emperor!"
Then Hetna understood.
"I'd say it's time to end the game. You know what to do, ω Lancer: kill them all. Kill those who are threatening you and your homeland! Eliminate your enemies without any mercy!"
Lancer opened his eyes. His pain slowly faded from his face, as if something was washing it away. The air around him was enveloped in a blanket of golden energy; even Lancer's weapon began to glow.
"I do my duty," said the Servant in a cold voice, "without letting anything else distract me." He raised his head. "In that life where your body does not surrender, it is shameful that the soul surrenders first."
Berserker saw Lancer move and, without hesitation, attacked him with her sword. The man stopped his opponent's arm and with the other hand held his spear, which emitted a sound reminiscent of the neighing of a steed.
"How do you persist?!" The woman was shocked. "No one is so tenacious! No traitor is so tenacious!"
"You call me a 'traitor', but you have no idea who I am. You dared to crucify a Roman citizen, you did it before, Galba. I know it. For this inhumane act of yours, you do not deserve my sympathy, not even an iota of my pity."
"Traitor! Subversive! Rebel! Die!" Berserker tried to free herself, but without any success.
"You can't escape me. Your destiny has been sanctioned by the gods of Rome. I, Marcus Aurelius Antoninus Augustus, will bring their final judgment upon you."
Lancer's body was enveloped in a kind of golden energy that broke the chains that kept him imprisoned. The iron cross was pulverized, and as soon as ω Lancer's feet hit the ground, he struck Berserker with such force that she flew at least four meters.
"You cannot face my Noble Phantasm: Tà Eis Heautón (The Emperor's Words to Himself)."
Hetna, seeing the true power of ω Lancer, was incredulous. "You're kidding…" she murmured. "That Noble Phantasm clearly has the same characteristics as an Anti-Treasure… yet there is something anomalous about it."
"You still can't figure it out, can you? I can't be surprised," Raphael commented with a touch of satisfaction. "Only a wise and powerful man like Marcus Aurelius could possess such a Noble Phantasm. People think of him as just a philosopher, but they forget that he spent nineteen years of his life fighting against invaders of all kinds, and more: plagues, economic crisis, high mortality, political instability… He faced all this and is managed to protect the Empire. His philosophical soul, combined with his inhuman willpower, conceived the Noble Phantasm that you are now seeing! It nullifies any other enemy Noble Phantasm and, on top of that, it raises all the Servant's stats to their maximum possible!"
"What?! No!" she exclaimed in fright. "This means that…"
"Exactly! You finally figured out what's going on! Right now, Lancer has stats no Heroic Spirit can match!"
Marcus Aurelius and Galba. The two emperors were face to face.
The woman attacked her opponent with ferocity, it was clear that she had no intention of letting herself be defeated easily. Her attacks lacked technique, they were savage, furious like those of an irrational beast. The man was able to parry them one after the other without the slightest effort. He was calm… he was devoid, really, of any emotion. His mind had reached a state of absolute purity and there was nothing that could destabilize it. Berserker certainly didn't have the tools to be able to corner such an opponent, yet she constantly tried. She hit, hit, hit harder, but she never managed to hurt Lancer. It was as if that Servant had become invincible like the legendary Achilles.
"Your Heroic Spirit is too weak," Raphael commented to Hetna. "Look at my Lancer's perfect movements, his steely calm and his impeccable technique. His mind has at this moment reached a higher state. Marcus Aurelius is in fact the only Roman emperor to have a Noble Phantasm which makes him wise and enlightened like a bodhisattva. How can Galba deal with such a man? She can't, that's the answer."
Raphael looked up and saw Berserker fly to the ground for what might have been the sixth time. The man was sure he had victory in hand. Nothing could stop his Lancer.
Benjamin Palmer and Saber were both speechless. He had no intention of sending her Servant against the Stoic Emperor and she, on the other hand, was starting to fear that she had chosen an opponent beyond her reach. She had never seen a Roman fight like that, not even her nemesis was so powerful.
"How do you persist?!" The woman was shocked. "No one is so tenacious! No traitor is so tenacious!"
"You call me a 'traitor', but you have no idea who I am. You dared to crucify a Roman citizen, you did it before, Galba. I know it. For this inhumane act of yours, you do not deserve my sympathy, not even an iota of my pity."
"Traitor! Subversive! Rebel! Die!" Berserker tried to free herself, but without any success.
"You can't escape me. Your destiny has been sanctioned by the gods of Rome. I, Marcus Aurelius Antoninus Augustus, will bring their final judgment upon you."
Lancer's body was enveloped in a kind of golden energy that broke the chains that kept him imprisoned. The iron cross was pulverized, and as soon as ω Lancer's feet hit the ground, he struck Berserker with such force that she flew at least four meters.
"You cannot face my Noble Phantasm: Tà Eis Heautón (The Emperor's Words to Himself)."
Hetna, seeing the true power of ω Lancer, was incredulous. "You're kidding…" she murmured. "That Noble Phantasm clearly has the same characteristics as an Anti-Treasure… yet there is something anomalous about it."
"You still can't figure it out, can you? I can't be surprised," Raphael commented with a touch of satisfaction. "Only a wise and powerful man like Marcus Aurelius could possess such a Noble Phantasm. People think of him as just a philosopher, but they forget that he spent nineteen years of his life fighting against invaders of all kinds, and more: plagues, economic crisis, high mortality, political instability… He faced all this and is managed to protect the Empire. His philosophical soul, combined with his inhuman willpower, conceived the Noble Phantasm that you are now seeing! It nullifies any other enemy Noble Phantasm and, on top of that, it raises all the Servant's stats to their maximum possible!"
"What?! No!" she exclaimed in fright. "This means that…"
"Exactly! You finally figured out what's going on! Right now, Lancer has stats no Heroic Spirit can match!"
Marcus Aurelius and Galba. The two emperors were face to face.
The woman attacked her opponent with ferocity, it was clear that she had no intention of letting herself be defeated easily. Her attacks lacked technique, they were savage, furious like those of an irrational beast. The man was able to parry them one after the other without the slightest effort. He was calm… he was devoid, really, of any emotion. His mind had reached a state of absolute purity and there was nothing that could destabilize it. Berserker certainly didn't have the tools to be able to corner such an opponent, yet she constantly tried. She hit, hit, hit harder, but she never managed to hurt Lancer. It was as if that Servant had become invincible like the legendary Achilles.
"Your Heroic Spirit is too weak," Raphael commented to Hetna. "Look at my Lancer's perfect movements, his steely calm and his impeccable technique. His mind has at this moment reached a higher state. Marcus Aurelius is in fact the only Roman emperor to have a Noble Phantasm which makes him wise and enlightened like a bodhisattva. How can Galba deal with such a man? She can't, that's the answer."
Raphael looked up and saw Berserker fly to the ground for what might have been the sixth time. The man was sure he had victory in hand. Nothing could stop his Lancer.
Benjamin Palmer and Saber were both speechless. He had no intention of sending her Servant against the Stoic Emperor and she, on the other hand, was starting to fear that she had chosen an opponent beyond her reach. She had never seen a Roman fight like that, not even her nemesis was so powerful.
Lancer parried yet another attack by Berserker and, with inhuman speed, wounded her in the arm and then kicked her in the stomach; however the woman didn't give up, she was as tenacious as a hungry wolf.
Something inside Berserker's shield moved and the sound of a mechanism was heard. The woman smiled and, raising the shield, sprayed a resinous substance that stuck to the opponent's body. The man, smelling the strong perfume, realized that it was galbanum. She lowered her shield and the gem in the center of it glowed red, so it blew a blast of fire at ω Lancer.
"Burn, you bastard," she exclaimed. "Burn in the flames of supreme justice!"
Galbanum, in contact with fire, burned.
Even Hetna was surprised by her Servant's excellent strategy, but ω Lancer's Noble Phantasm managed to counter even those flames. His body was not stained even by a wound. When Hetna realized the gravity of the situation she understood that there was only one way to eliminate Marcus Aurelius: kill the Master.
Raphael was still contemplating his Servant's battle when, without any warning, a mystical blade pierced his leg. The man let out a cry of suffering and, when he realized that Hetna was approaching, he decided to run to hide and summoned a flock of crows to slow down the enemy.
Lancer, meanwhile, continued to dominate the battlefield. Berserker was getting tired, her blows getting slower and less forceful; this meant that by now she could no longer fight. The strong Stoic Emperor knew his opponent was resigned.
Benjamin did not know Hetna. He was aware of being, in fact, an enemy of her, yet he could not accept letting her Servant die. Galba, even though she was completely insane at the time, had still saved his life and he felt an obligation to return the favor. He looked at ω Saber and she immediately knew what to do. She smiled at him, proud that he had made that decision, and went on the attack.
Lancer did not have time to kill Galba. Saber's blade blocked the spear.
"You Romans are really fools! You always underestimate your enemies, you see them as weak incapable of reacting! And that's why people like me can defeat you!"
Saber wasn't as fast as her opponent, but she was more tenacious than Berserker and managed to keep a fair amount of control in the battle. His blows managed, however, to put her on the corner when he, of course, understood her strategy. Lancer, therefore, gaining a slight advantage, launched an attack powerful enough to flip Saber and send her flying into a wall of the arena. However, she got up.
"It takes much more to defeat me, ω Lancer! I have battle in my blood!"
"More skilled in the fight, but no more inclined to the common good, nor more disciplined towards events. That's the truth, Saber," he said with inhuman detachment.
"Don't think you can talk to me as if you know me!"
Something inside Berserker's shield moved and the sound of a mechanism was heard. The woman smiled and, raising the shield, sprayed a resinous substance that stuck to the opponent's body. The man, smelling the strong perfume, realized that it was galbanum. She lowered her shield and the gem in the center of it glowed red, so it blew a blast of fire at ω Lancer.
"Burn, you bastard," she exclaimed. "Burn in the flames of supreme justice!"
Galbanum, in contact with fire, burned.
Even Hetna was surprised by her Servant's excellent strategy, but ω Lancer's Noble Phantasm managed to counter even those flames. His body was not stained even by a wound. When Hetna realized the gravity of the situation she understood that there was only one way to eliminate Marcus Aurelius: kill the Master.
Raphael was still contemplating his Servant's battle when, without any warning, a mystical blade pierced his leg. The man let out a cry of suffering and, when he realized that Hetna was approaching, he decided to run to hide and summoned a flock of crows to slow down the enemy.
Lancer, meanwhile, continued to dominate the battlefield. Berserker was getting tired, her blows getting slower and less forceful; this meant that by now she could no longer fight. The strong Stoic Emperor knew his opponent was resigned.
Benjamin did not know Hetna. He was aware of being, in fact, an enemy of her, yet he could not accept letting her Servant die. Galba, even though she was completely insane at the time, had still saved his life and he felt an obligation to return the favor. He looked at ω Saber and she immediately knew what to do. She smiled at him, proud that he had made that decision, and went on the attack.
Lancer did not have time to kill Galba. Saber's blade blocked the spear.
"You Romans are really fools! You always underestimate your enemies, you see them as weak incapable of reacting! And that's why people like me can defeat you!"
Saber wasn't as fast as her opponent, but she was more tenacious than Berserker and managed to keep a fair amount of control in the battle. His blows managed, however, to put her on the corner when he, of course, understood her strategy. Lancer, therefore, gaining a slight advantage, launched an attack powerful enough to flip Saber and send her flying into a wall of the arena. However, she got up.
"It takes much more to defeat me, ω Lancer! I have battle in my blood!"
"More skilled in the fight, but no more inclined to the common good, nor more disciplined towards events. That's the truth, Saber," he said with inhuman detachment.
"Don't think you can talk to me as if you know me!"
"I know you. I know who you are. Vercingetorix, your name entered history only thanks to the Founder. Her actions made you immortal. This is the truth. You, without her, are nothing. Your hatred of the Romans is misplaced because we, arrogant or otherwise, made you who you are. Who would you have been without us? Just another Gallic aristocrat forgotten by history."
She didn't answer, but it was clear that now the battle had just become personal. Saber restarted with her offensive, without parting from her tactics, however this choice turned out to be bad. Lancer, in fact, had memorized the opponent's moves and was able to parry every single attack with perfect timing. When the man began to attack, the opponent could not help but back away as much as possible. Lancer was getting faster, getting more accurate, and getting stronger. He no longer even looked like an ordinary Heroic Spirit but something higher, something divine. Saber was eventually knocked down a second time and got up a second time, ready to resume the offensive. Lancer did nothing. He waited for his opponent's attack, and when he saw her running towards him, he immediately dodged her blade and counterattacked like lightning.
Benjamin saw Saber fall to the ground for the third time, however this time it was different… she was wounded in the belly this time.
"Saber!" he exclaimed approaching her. "You're hurt! I have to…!"
He didn't know what to do. He didn't know how to help that proud rebel warrior. He didn't want to let her die, he didn't want to abandon her to her fate, and so he acted on instinct and tried to plug her wound. In that instant, just as his hands touched her wound, something inexplicable happened: the Magic Circuits appeared on Benjamin's body. They gave off a golden light, a light that spread around him, a light that embraced her too and that raised a kind of barrier; a real magical shield. Saber's wound healed in an instant, and so did Benjamin's.
"What is this...?" he asked confused. "What is this heat...? Is this… my magecraft?"
"Yes, Master. You did it," she said with a smile. "You blossomed."
Lancer struck that shield, but a shock wave knocked it back. Nothing could penetrate that light, no blade could break that magical barrier. Benjamin could not believe his eyes. What was happening was thanks to him, it was his magic… it was his power. He wished so much, at that moment, that his grandfather was there to see him.
Saber got up with the help of his Master.
"Are you sure?" he asked, still worried about her.
"Trust me, Master, I will be able to defeat him. No matter how strong he is, I will be able to win. I promise you."
He smiled. "I believe in you, Saber—no, Vercingetorix."
She smiled and advanced on her enemy.
When Lancer saw the light disappear, he immediately attacked. The two weapons collided several times before either could touch skin and it was Saber's that hurt Lancer. Perhaps it was a coincidence, perhaps luck, or a demonstration of skill, the fact is that ω Lancer did not bend and continued to attack. Saber hadn't gained a strong advantage over her opponent, but she was fighting tenaciously, with wild energy that raged like an out-of-control fire. She was fury incarnate. By now it seemed that nothing could stop ω Saber from continuing to fight.
Lancer continued to remain calm, cold, completely detached from this battle. His eyes were empty, devoid of any emotion, and he continued to fight. However his persistence was accompanied by a strong ignorance of what was happening away from that duel; Lancer had no idea that his Master was fighting to survive. It was an almost paradoxical situation: Raphael had ordered his Heroic Spirit to use a Noble Phantasm that had made the aforementioned a kind of killing machine focused only on victory. But poor Raphael was about to fall victim to the same strategy and only fate would decide what would happen to him.
Lancer did not fall. Despite Saber's best efforts, Lancer didn't fall. He was still standing. He wasn't fatigued, he wasn't willing to give up, he didn't feel the pressure of battle… he was empty. Completely empty.
She didn't answer, but it was clear that now the battle had just become personal. Saber restarted with her offensive, without parting from her tactics, however this choice turned out to be bad. Lancer, in fact, had memorized the opponent's moves and was able to parry every single attack with perfect timing. When the man began to attack, the opponent could not help but back away as much as possible. Lancer was getting faster, getting more accurate, and getting stronger. He no longer even looked like an ordinary Heroic Spirit but something higher, something divine. Saber was eventually knocked down a second time and got up a second time, ready to resume the offensive. Lancer did nothing. He waited for his opponent's attack, and when he saw her running towards him, he immediately dodged her blade and counterattacked like lightning.
Benjamin saw Saber fall to the ground for the third time, however this time it was different… she was wounded in the belly this time.
"Saber!" he exclaimed approaching her. "You're hurt! I have to…!"
He didn't know what to do. He didn't know how to help that proud rebel warrior. He didn't want to let her die, he didn't want to abandon her to her fate, and so he acted on instinct and tried to plug her wound. In that instant, just as his hands touched her wound, something inexplicable happened: the Magic Circuits appeared on Benjamin's body. They gave off a golden light, a light that spread around him, a light that embraced her too and that raised a kind of barrier; a real magical shield. Saber's wound healed in an instant, and so did Benjamin's.
"What is this...?" he asked confused. "What is this heat...? Is this… my magecraft?"
"Yes, Master. You did it," she said with a smile. "You blossomed."
Lancer struck that shield, but a shock wave knocked it back. Nothing could penetrate that light, no blade could break that magical barrier. Benjamin could not believe his eyes. What was happening was thanks to him, it was his magic… it was his power. He wished so much, at that moment, that his grandfather was there to see him.
Saber got up with the help of his Master.
"Are you sure?" he asked, still worried about her.
"Trust me, Master, I will be able to defeat him. No matter how strong he is, I will be able to win. I promise you."
He smiled. "I believe in you, Saber—no, Vercingetorix."
She smiled and advanced on her enemy.
When Lancer saw the light disappear, he immediately attacked. The two weapons collided several times before either could touch skin and it was Saber's that hurt Lancer. Perhaps it was a coincidence, perhaps luck, or a demonstration of skill, the fact is that ω Lancer did not bend and continued to attack. Saber hadn't gained a strong advantage over her opponent, but she was fighting tenaciously, with wild energy that raged like an out-of-control fire. She was fury incarnate. By now it seemed that nothing could stop ω Saber from continuing to fight.
Lancer continued to remain calm, cold, completely detached from this battle. His eyes were empty, devoid of any emotion, and he continued to fight. However his persistence was accompanied by a strong ignorance of what was happening away from that duel; Lancer had no idea that his Master was fighting to survive. It was an almost paradoxical situation: Raphael had ordered his Heroic Spirit to use a Noble Phantasm that had made the aforementioned a kind of killing machine focused only on victory. But poor Raphael was about to fall victim to the same strategy and only fate would decide what would happen to him.
Lancer did not fall. Despite Saber's best efforts, Lancer didn't fall. He was still standing. He wasn't fatigued, he wasn't willing to give up, he didn't feel the pressure of battle… he was empty. Completely empty.
"You're stubborn, huh?" said ω Saber. "You are probably the strongest Roman I have ever met. I highly doubt there are others like you."
"You keep comparing me to someone I consider a slave to politics, war, and ambition. Alexander the Great, Julius Caesar and Gnaeus Pompeius what are they in front of Diogenes and Heraclitus and Socrates? The latter saw the reality of things, they were never slaves of the world. Philosophy is stronger than ambition. A poetic mind is stronger than a political mind. This is the truth and if you fail to understand it, and continue to judge me as their equal, it is because you see only the stench and the tainted blood in the sack that is my body. If you have sharp eyesight, you should know how to use it and go beyond material reality. I am Roman, but I am not the other Romans."
"Do you really think you're that different from them? I don't know if you are naïve or crazy, ω Lancer. You can't get away from your roots, you can't escape your culture. You're a Roman, you think like a Roman and you will die like a Roman. Stop pretending to be different from your compatriots, you risk being pathetic."
"Everything is transformation, Saber. You yourself are subject to a continuous process of alteration and even destruction. This is the law of the cosmos… and also of Rome. Not all Romans are meant to be the same as other Romans, but your inability to understand that is nothing strange. In fact, now that I think about it, it's almost logical that you wouldn't be able to distinguish me from any Roman, after all, not even you can draw a line between you and Julius Caesar; in many ways you are like her."
"You insult my honour!" Saber's sword was enveloped in a blue light. "You will pay for this offense, ω Lancer! Caturix (The King of Endless Battle)!"
The Noble Phantasm hit ω Lancer squarely. The impact of the attack was devastating and left a hole in the center of the arena.
But Lancer was still alive.
Emperor Marcus Aurelius was still standing and didn't have a single scratch. That golden energy that enveloped his body had made him invulnerable. Vercingetorix was amazed and, at least in part, disappointed. She hoped to be able to kill that man, but he was stubborn and did not fall. No matter how strong the woman's will, nothing could stop that Heroic Spirit.
By now Benjamin was hoping for an intervention from Berserker, but she was gone; he thought that perhaps she had decided to hide. He turned his attention back to the enemy and noticed that, after walking a few meters, Lancer, for some reason, had stopped. Benjamin immediately thought of ordering ω Saber to attack, but she, having received her order, looked at him and shook her head.
"No, he's done," she said with disappointed eyes.
"In what sense…?" he asked confused.
Then he saw that the man's feet had become transparent. Lancer was wrapped in a kind of golden dust and was slowly disappearing. Even in the face of death, that Servant showed no sign of emotion. He remained calm, detached, and spoke these words:
"I cannot despise death, but I welcome it, as this is one of the things nature willed. As one waits for the moment when a child will come out of one's wife's womb, so one waits for the moment when our soul will slip out of this wrapping. These are in cycles of the cosmos: up and down, from everlasting to everlasting. We cannot change them, we cannot dictate law to the universe. And why does a foolish man worry? In a certain sense, in fact, there are either atoms or destiny. If there is god, all is well; if chance dominates, do not act at random too. Therefore, to despise what is mortal is an illogical attitude."
"You're right…" Saber murmured in a moment of pity. "You are right, ω Lancer. We cannot despise mortality, it is a part of life."
"You keep comparing me to someone I consider a slave to politics, war, and ambition. Alexander the Great, Julius Caesar and Gnaeus Pompeius what are they in front of Diogenes and Heraclitus and Socrates? The latter saw the reality of things, they were never slaves of the world. Philosophy is stronger than ambition. A poetic mind is stronger than a political mind. This is the truth and if you fail to understand it, and continue to judge me as their equal, it is because you see only the stench and the tainted blood in the sack that is my body. If you have sharp eyesight, you should know how to use it and go beyond material reality. I am Roman, but I am not the other Romans."
"Do you really think you're that different from them? I don't know if you are naïve or crazy, ω Lancer. You can't get away from your roots, you can't escape your culture. You're a Roman, you think like a Roman and you will die like a Roman. Stop pretending to be different from your compatriots, you risk being pathetic."
"Everything is transformation, Saber. You yourself are subject to a continuous process of alteration and even destruction. This is the law of the cosmos… and also of Rome. Not all Romans are meant to be the same as other Romans, but your inability to understand that is nothing strange. In fact, now that I think about it, it's almost logical that you wouldn't be able to distinguish me from any Roman, after all, not even you can draw a line between you and Julius Caesar; in many ways you are like her."
"You insult my honour!" Saber's sword was enveloped in a blue light. "You will pay for this offense, ω Lancer! Caturix (The King of Endless Battle)!"
The Noble Phantasm hit ω Lancer squarely. The impact of the attack was devastating and left a hole in the center of the arena.
But Lancer was still alive.
Emperor Marcus Aurelius was still standing and didn't have a single scratch. That golden energy that enveloped his body had made him invulnerable. Vercingetorix was amazed and, at least in part, disappointed. She hoped to be able to kill that man, but he was stubborn and did not fall. No matter how strong the woman's will, nothing could stop that Heroic Spirit.
By now Benjamin was hoping for an intervention from Berserker, but she was gone; he thought that perhaps she had decided to hide. He turned his attention back to the enemy and noticed that, after walking a few meters, Lancer, for some reason, had stopped. Benjamin immediately thought of ordering ω Saber to attack, but she, having received her order, looked at him and shook her head.
"No, he's done," she said with disappointed eyes.
"In what sense…?" he asked confused.
Then he saw that the man's feet had become transparent. Lancer was wrapped in a kind of golden dust and was slowly disappearing. Even in the face of death, that Servant showed no sign of emotion. He remained calm, detached, and spoke these words:
"I cannot despise death, but I welcome it, as this is one of the things nature willed. As one waits for the moment when a child will come out of one's wife's womb, so one waits for the moment when our soul will slip out of this wrapping. These are in cycles of the cosmos: up and down, from everlasting to everlasting. We cannot change them, we cannot dictate law to the universe. And why does a foolish man worry? In a certain sense, in fact, there are either atoms or destiny. If there is god, all is well; if chance dominates, do not act at random too. Therefore, to despise what is mortal is an illogical attitude."
"You're right…" Saber murmured in a moment of pity. "You are right, ω Lancer. We cannot despise mortality, it is a part of life."
"Exactly. I'm glad you understand… I'm glad…" Something gleamed in his eyes.
"My greatest suffering is not being able to defeat you, but maybe that will be for another time. I will remember this moment, Stoic Emperor, and prepare my weapons for our next meeting. Wait for my arrival, because I will look for you."
"And I will wait for you… Yes, I will wait… I will wait for your arrival, brave warrior… After all, what is the point of resisting the currents of destiny? You, Masters who fight this war, remember that there is little time left to live. So don't argue about how to be virtuous, but be virtuous. This is a farewell, may you all fulfill your destiny as it was arranged from eternity…"
Marcus Aurelius disappeared leaving behind the echo of that last word.
The barrier lowered.
The battle had come to an end.
Benjamin breathed a sigh of relief and wanted to hug the Servant, but the battle wasn't over yet. Hetna returned to the center of the arena carrying the severed head of Raphael Maillard with her; she threw it on the ground. Benjamin felt the need to vomit. Sure, he hated that man, but sure as hell he didn't want him dead. Hetna didn't even have a trace of remorse on her face. She looked at Benjamin and said:
"You'll be next."
Saber stood in front of the Master and prepared to fight, then the image of Vergil appeared. That creepy being petrified the young magus with that demonic look of his.
"But not tonight, right?"
"Right," Hetna confirmed submissively.
"You did a great job, my dear. Come back to me, we have more Masters to kill. As for Benjamin…" he turned to the boy. "I knew you'd make it, I've always known that. I would like to offer you my most sincere congratulations and wish you to reach the top. A beautiful creature like you deserves to see an end to the conflict."
"What the hell are you?!" Benjamin asked fearfully.
"I'm your fan."
Vergil disappeared and Hetna with him.
"My greatest suffering is not being able to defeat you, but maybe that will be for another time. I will remember this moment, Stoic Emperor, and prepare my weapons for our next meeting. Wait for my arrival, because I will look for you."
"And I will wait for you… Yes, I will wait… I will wait for your arrival, brave warrior… After all, what is the point of resisting the currents of destiny? You, Masters who fight this war, remember that there is little time left to live. So don't argue about how to be virtuous, but be virtuous. This is a farewell, may you all fulfill your destiny as it was arranged from eternity…"
Marcus Aurelius disappeared leaving behind the echo of that last word.
The barrier lowered.
The battle had come to an end.
Benjamin breathed a sigh of relief and wanted to hug the Servant, but the battle wasn't over yet. Hetna returned to the center of the arena carrying the severed head of Raphael Maillard with her; she threw it on the ground. Benjamin felt the need to vomit. Sure, he hated that man, but sure as hell he didn't want him dead. Hetna didn't even have a trace of remorse on her face. She looked at Benjamin and said:
"You'll be next."
Saber stood in front of the Master and prepared to fight, then the image of Vergil appeared. That creepy being petrified the young magus with that demonic look of his.
"But not tonight, right?"
"Right," Hetna confirmed submissively.
"You did a great job, my dear. Come back to me, we have more Masters to kill. As for Benjamin…" he turned to the boy. "I knew you'd make it, I've always known that. I would like to offer you my most sincere congratulations and wish you to reach the top. A beautiful creature like you deserves to see an end to the conflict."
"What the hell are you?!" Benjamin asked fearfully.
"I'm your fan."
Vergil disappeared and Hetna with him.
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| 'The Stoic Emperor versus the King of Rebels' by Bikowolf |
