18

As Fafnir roars, announcing his presence to all, I am instantly barraged by the shocked emotions, as well as the telepathic exclamations of all my Servants. Rather than reply to any one individually, I reach out to all of them at once, while also speaking my line so Jeanne, standing beside me, is on the same page.

"I have no idea how Red managed to get a hold of him, but that's Fafnir!"

I'm focused on Jeanne, and so can see her expression morph from surprise and shock to something more resembling terror. And then several things happen all at once.

The wind around Artoria's sword vanishes, as she raises the now-glowing blade over her head.

One of the obelisks on the Hanging Garden glows a blinding purple-white.

A flame so dark it seems black begins to leak from Fafnir's mouth.

The wings of Jeanne's Command Seal burst into existence behind her, glowing a brilliant bright red that illuminates the surroundings, and multiple Seals flash at once as they are activated.

"In the name of Ruler- of Jeanne d'Arc! With my Command Spells, I order all Servants present to attack the great Evil Dragon Fafnir!"

However, the instant Jeanne's Command is called, two wings of red shine from Fafnir's chest, above the glowing blue mark and below where his shoulders would be.

Shirou, what on earth have you-

The dragon drops into a sudden, pitched dive, but Excalibur's blade has already been turned away from him as the Hanging Garden's obelisk opens fire on White and Artoria is forced to respond. Excalibur overpowers Semiramis' beam, the golden light not just countering the magic laser but continuing past it and through the floating obelisk, reducing it to nothing. Atalanta's arrow barrage as well as Mordred's blast of red lightning shoot towards the dragon a moment after Excalibur is fired. However, Fafnir is already pulling up mid-dive as if he could see the attacks coming beforehand, letting Clarent's blast pass under him while Atalanta's arrows ineffectually bounce off his scales. I'm tempted to add my own magic, but the dragon is over twenty meters in length and a palm-sized laser wouldn't do much to something that large. That, and I really need to hold onto the first attack I'm going to launch this battle.

As Artoria and Mordred once again raise their blades, the dragon almost casually let's fly the fireball he had been building. Unexpectedly, it arcs like a mortar, flying far too high to impact White. Thank you, Blessing of Arrow Avoidance. I turn to Jeanne, looking shaken at Shirou-Fafnir's use of Command Spells, and quickly speak.

"Jeane, that's Shirou! I don't know how, but those Seals are-"

Despite the night-time, a sun is born behind Jeanne and me. I spin, using magic to raise an earthen wall before the shockwave hits. The wall takes the blast directly, cracking but holding with only some fragmenting. Through the cracks I can make out the aftermath of the fireball- the land where the Fortress of Millennia once stood has been razed, turned into a flat, glassy field. Everything above ground level is gone, and I can just make out the tip of the curve of the Greater Grail poking out from it's now-exposed basement. Through the cleared sightlines, it is clear that the fireball was not confined merely to the fortress- the dragonfire had blasted out and breached the easternmost point of Trifas' walls. There's too much dust and debris to get a clear vision, but I can't imagine anyone in the houses closest to the point in the wall is still alive. A moment later, the sound of the explosion hits, a single loud blast followed by a sustained, growing roar.

My face is pale as I turn back to the fight- Semiramis once more interfering with Artoria at the cost of an obelisk, while this time Clarent forces Fafnir to let out his breath in a short burst, countering the red lighting with his own black fire. I feel a pulse, and instinctively grasp at the Divine Protection of Emotion Shielding I receive. Even with my pounding heart quietened, I barely make out the words Jeanne speaks over the continued thunder of the explosion.

"If that is truly Amakusa Shirou Tokisada, then…I must confront him, and put a stop to this before any further harm is done."

With that, Jeanne bursts towards the dragon. I'm about to follow her, when two more presences make themselves known on the battlefield and begin to draw close. Shit. I'd hoped that- no, that was never a realistic hope.

'Everyone, change of plans! Artoria, help Jeanne against Fafnir- try to kill him as soon as possible. Mordred, get over to the Hanging Garden and stop Semiramis's fire support! I've got to hold off Karna. Astolfo, if that is Shirou you won't be able to Trap him, so you, Fran and Atalanta-'

'I'm borrowing Berserker, Master! She's my second ticket to reaching that Empress.'

Mordred's words derail me. I…to send Atalanta with only Astolfo for support? Jeanne can't face Fafnir alone; Artoria needs to support her, as the only one with a ranged attack that Fafnir seems afraid of. But that means...

'I'll work with Rider to delay Achilles, Master. Though you must promise me that no matter what, you will make my wish to the Grail if I cannot.'

'-I swear I will. I'm sorry. In the meantime I Command you both- Don't lose to Achilles.'

There's might've been a response, but I can no longer pay attention to; Karna is now standing before me, body covered in fire. He doesn't immediately attack me, so I pull Reid from my belt. To my shock, I can feel the blade spring loose- the first bit of luck this battle, though the blade telling me this battle is one worthy of it does concern me. I don't think the battle is avoidable but as I pull on my inexhaustible mana well to enhance myself, I give the easy solution a try.

"You know that Shirou has enthralled your Master and has stolen you from him, right? And is going to make a Wish that would end up killing everyone in the world, your Master included."

Karna tilts his head before speaking.

"I believe you to be Master of White, whom my Master has tasked me with eliminating. I'm sorry, but my Master has also instructed me to not converse with you, even using a Command Seal to guarantee the order. I cannot see your face, nor hear your voice. Please don't think ill of me for this."

Of course. Shirou would have thought of that, so I guess there's no getting around this. Reid's blue-white metal sings as, for the first time, I raise it against a foe. He responds with his golden spear, and we both lunge forwards simultaneously. The white line traced by his flaming spear clashes Reid, the Dragon Sword managing to turn the thrust away from my body. The flames that accompanies the attack remains unparried, flowing over Reid and down my right arm. The heat is such that were it not for my 80% immunity to fire damage I would likely have instantly lost the use of my arm.

The moment his spear is deflected, Karna twists the shaft in an elegant motion and uses it to deflect Reid's tip away from his body. That wasn't the real threat, though and I abandon my defences to close to point-blank range. As I do, I feel my precognition blare a warning, but disregard it- I only have one guaranteed-to-land hit and, in order to end this fight as quickly as I can, it has to be this one. I can't pull out of this attack now. Karna tries to dodge out of the way, but my teeth are guided by my Blessing and catch his shoulder; the instant I feel my mouth over his body I bite down as hard as possible. The bite only lasts a fraction of a second before I feel a burst of pain from my chest and stumble backwards, tongue flicking across my canines and tasting the very slight coppery taste of blood in my mouth.

Karna, still expressionless, raises a finger to his shoulder and looks at the blood from where I just barely managed to break his skin, even with Reinhard's strength being reduced to 10%. I also raise my hand to my wound, having already planned to dump healing magic into it but. Oh. My fingers touch the wound and find empty air. There's a thin, charred tunnel penetrating all the way through me, right where my heart would be; Karna's laser must have-

I die. For a moment, anyway; there's a brief, dark moment of nothing, where I must have died for real before I'm back, heaving deep breaths as my Blessing of the Phoenix burns itself out restoring me to life while also replacing itself with another copy of the Blessing. I'm still bent-double, clutching my now non-existent wound, but I look up to catch Karna's expression, now one of dull surprise. I pull myself upright, trying to shove all thoughts about…that experience to the back of my mind, my new Divine Protection showing it's utility to stop what would have been a panic attack at...

'Master! Are you-'

Variants of those panicked words flow from all my Servants. They must have felt…that…happen.

'I'm ok. No need to worry. I'll be free to help in five minutes, so try and hold on until then.'

The responses I get vary- the now-distant Mordred seems to at least by my explanation immediately and is assuaged by my voice, but Atalanta and Artoria are much less calmed. Still, that will have to wait until later; it isn't like my immediate problem has been solved, after all. Even if I'm alive and my bite landed, that isn't going to kick in for five minutes.

Karna gives an enquiring head movement, as if to ask if we're resuming and I nod, hoping he can at least see that. And with that, our weapons are once more raised. Now comes the hard part- holding out for five minutes while not giving Karna the chance to nuke the battlefield with his secret Noble Phantasm. And that means, in a reverse of the Siegfried fight, staying up close in his face and not letting him get the space or confidence that he can afford to give up his armour. I'll have to place my trust in my Servants in the meantime- keeping Karna occupied was going to need my full attention; dying was not an experience I was eager to repeat.

-

Leaving Master and Father behind to race off grated on Mordred. Sure, it was a sign of trust, giving her an important mission like this, but still…

At least there were a lot of crappy skeletons to take her frustrations out on. Red lighting blasts out, turning the surrounding Dragon Tooth Warriors to ash, as she swings Clarent down in an arc and cuts a swathe through the army. Berserker, besides her, lets out a grunt, crushing what skeletons enter her range with only slightly less ease.

"So, Berserker. You get the plan, right?"

"Uh." (Yes.)

"Right, right. Plans don't need to be that complex; the more parts to a plan, the easier one thing turning up wrong can break it. Best to just have a one or two step plan, that's my motto! Master needs to learn that, but I guess- oh, we're here already."

The pair, now find themselves under the Garden, stop, and Mordred turns to face Berserker.

"So. Ready?"

"Um." (Ready)

"And you're sure you want to stay behind? We both could probably get up there, and worst comes to worse we'll just crash right back down to the ground and can try again easy peasy."

Berserker shakes her head in response, and Mordred shrugs. Looks like Berserker had business of her own down here. Anyways, not her problem anymore- her problem was probably sitting on a throne somewhere up there, laughing it up.

Mordred draws deep on her mana well, filling her body to the brim and then overfilling it, letting it radiate from her body as lighting. Berserker, in turn, absorbs the arcs of electricity into her mace, and through that into her. Mordred takes a stance, dismissing her armour, and grabs Berserker's outstretched hand. A moment later, and Berserker hurls Mordred up towards the flying black bulk of the Garden, Mordred's own mana-boosted jump augmented by Berserker's Galvanism-enhanced strength. With Clarent held with two hands before her, Mordred is akin to a lightning javelin or missile, punching straight through the underside of the Gardens and into a corridor.

The connection to her Master is, for a moment, rendered silent. The mana flowing into her flickers, her link to her Master gone. An instant later, however, the connection springs back to life.

'Master? You ok?'

'I'm ok. No need to worry. I'll be free to help in five minutes, so try and hold on until then.'

The quick reply has Mordred heave a sigh of relief that she very intentionally doesn't allow to transmit back. Master had warned Mordred that the Garden could interfere with stuff like Command Spells and terrain advantage, so probably just that stinkbug empress messing with the connection. The matter settled, Mordred pushes herself off the wall, armor once more appearing out of nothing and begins to move, trusting her instinct to warn her of whatever traps or defences the Empress might uselessly throw in her way.

The thing that surprises Mordred, however, is that she encounters no opposition. Not a single dragon-tooth warrior steps in her path, none of the magical turrets her Master had warned her about activate and shoot at her. It's just minutes of massive empty black-and-gold walls and gold-mirrored floors- the only reason Mordred doesn't think that she's being lead around in circles is that she can still feel presence of Assassin growing closer by the step. That, and Mordred's been using Clarent to gouge and rake the wall she's been travelling next to, to have a record her path.

Finally, though, she comes to a gate, black stone and gold inlay like the walls around it and several times her height. She can feel Assassin on the other side, but as she steps forward with Clarent raised, the gate opens before her into a massive circular room surrounded by spikes, with a raised dais of a throne in the centre. Exactly as Master had described, even with the strange floating pool of liquid for a roof. On the throne sits Assassin of Red, looking down on Mordred as she walks into the chamber. The doors swing shut behind her with a dull, reverberating thud, but Mordred seems unbothered, reaching into her pocket to pull out the last remnants of the salami she had been given and cutting off a piece with Clarent which she pops in her mouth. Noisily chewing, she shifts Clarent behind her shoulders as she looks up at Semiramis.

"Yo, Great Empress! Rude of you not to welcome me when I arrived and instead make me walk all the way here!"

Semiramis' nose crinkles in disdain at Mordred.

"Why on earth would an Empress have to welcome a third-rate knight, let alone an uninvited one who is dragging their dirty boots all over her palace, and doesn't even know the basics of courtly manners?"

"Was I uninvited? I couldn't tell; it wasn't like you tried to stop me." Mordred pauses, before her eyes widen comically. "Unless you mean to tell me those shitty skeletons were supposed to stop me? Was that really the best you could muster?"

"I thought smallfry would be appropriate to handle smallfry."

"And what now? Your smallfry failed, so are you gonna come down from your throne and beg for your life now I'm here?"

Semiramis' laugh reverberates around the room. "Please. You're amazingly arrogant for a rebel who failed and died, only to crawl back to their liege when given another chance. I guided you here to face me..."

Semiramis' hand begins to raise from its armrest, spiked palm pointing towards Mordred, who loudly yawns and looks around, bored. "Well, get on with it. Turn the air to poison or summon your snakes or Tiamat's offspring. I can't wait to fight you, and it'll be all the better when you start it."

That sentence causes Semiramis to pause in confusion, arm stopping its movement half-way to vertical. "How did- That Master of White. He once again shows what a pain he is."

"Yeah, he's pretty great, isn't he? Ruined all you guys' planning in less than a week."

Semirmais doesn't seem to hear Mordred, and returns her arm to her armrest, fingers tapping against the black stone. "Now, why would it be better if I started it, I wonder…"

Mordred can't quite mask her grimace in time, and Semiramis notices. "You want me to attack first. Why?...Ah. Your Master wants to make me an offer, is that it? To incarnate me like he managed with his other Servants?"

Mordred glances away, expression angry, and mutters under her breath. "Fuck. Should have just let you attack me."

Semiramis smirks. "Well, knowing that I won't give you the satisfaction. Go on then, glorified messenger; as Empress I deign to let you convey your Master's words."

Mordred's hand clench, lightning jolting from her body in a moment, before she manages to control herself enough to speak, albeit through clenched teeth.

"Master says he can both incarnate you and grant your Wish if you want."

"Is that all? I doubt that-"

"Fuck off! That's what the offer is, basically. Your wish is a stupid, boring villain one to 'rule the world' and Master says he has access to other worlds and he's willing to give you one to rule."

"Not this one? I rather like this world."

"Not this world. But you were never getting this world, you know. Even if Master hadn't interfered and your Master had won, his own wish wouldn't have allowed for a Empress of the world even before it got pruned. All your boasting and you were never going to get what you wanted- all your efforts have been for nothing from the start."

A sigh escapes Semiramis. Her Master had, after the meeting with White that had revealed the true nature of his Wish, promised that she would be able to rule the world he would create, but both knew that was a deception. Shirou's salvation had no place for Empresses to rule. To rule is to be a tyrant, to impose your will on your lessers with no regard for their situation, and tyranny would be impossible if humanity no longer had needs or weaknesses to leverage.

"So, this is how he tempted all the Servants to his side? Incarnation and the promise to grant their Wish?"

"Not all his Servants. He summoned his Sabe-"

"Just call her King Arthur. All have known her identity since the very first night. She has not been promised her Wish?"

"Nope. King Artoria is perfect, after all, and doesn't need a Wish."

Semiramis rocks back in her throne at that.

"I had thought that rulers who flaunt their frugality are playing a sport only available to those with power, but to discard an omnipotent wish because one wants to show that one has no need of it is on another level entirely."

"Well, I didn't need it either!"

"No. I'm sure you and your Master were just defeated by White and joined up afterwards. So, he is fighting for Archer of Red's wish?"

Mordred's mouth slams shut, and she looks away from Semiramis, who shrugs. No matter, it had just been a question raised from a moment of earnest curiosity; Archer and Assassin of Red had a similar background, after all, and despite (or even somewhat because of) her treachery Semiramis had a soft spot for the independent heroine. With Mordred clearly refusing to elaborate, Semiramis speaks, voice contemplative.

"In any case. Servants serve their Masters. Until my Master is defeated, I won't abandon him. After that…we'll see. In the meantime, I'll just keep you here. I won't fight you or White, but I won't let you leave either- we can both wait and watch the battle unfold from here. My contribution will be keeping White's second Saber off the board."

Semiramis clicks her fingers, and Mordred can hear and feel the change in the hall behind the great door, as traps and defences spring to life. Not that she had any intention of leaving- as long as she was here, within sword-distance of Assassin, Assassin could not safely divert her attention to attack the rest of White with her Hanging Garden. This standoff did technically accomplish her mission, as boring a manner as it wa-

Sudden clapping cuts across any further sound of the room, and both Semiramis and Mordred look around in surprise. There, circling from around Semiramis' black throne, is another presence. A man dressed in green, carrying a book and quill. Mordred instantly recognizes him from her Master's description.

"Caster, what are you-"/"You're Shakespeare, right?"

"Indeed, oh famed Knight of Treachery! I am the great playwright William Shakespeare, and I wish to express how gratifying it is that such a central figure in our nation's history knows me by appearance."

"Don't flatter yourself, wordsmith. My Master knows you, that's all."

Shakespeare is about to reply, when Semiramis' voice cuts in, hard and cold.

"What are you doing, Caster. You have other duties at the moment, so why are you-"

"Why am I here, oh Queen? Because this scene lacks drama! I marked you as Lady Macbeth, but here you are coming to an accord with your Master's foe. As with our Master, it seems I misread your role in this epic."

"I am an Empress, not a character from your plays. The world does not revolve around your 'stage directions' and I am free to make my own decisions for my own benefit."

Shakespeare doesn't seem flustered by Semiramis' snapping retort. "You should know by now that all the world's a stage and all the men and women, Empresses included, merely players. My plays are windows into the human condition, through which truths are observed!"

Mordred is glancing between the two Servants of Red, clearly put off by the atmosphere this intruder had brought with him.

"This is who I'd have had to work with if I'd stayed with Red? Anyways, Shakespeare. My Master said to call you Publius."

"Publius, you say? Wha- Ah! A true man of culture! How I wish I could meet him!"

"What are you babbling about?"

"Oh Empress, you must become more familiar with my works. Publius is the name of a man ordered put to death by prescription of the second Triumvirate in my recounting of Julius Caesar. What White's Master is saying, by using that name, is that he will not extend his offer to me- I have been marked for death."

Shakespeare is clearly just winding up his explanation, when an eruption of red lighting pulls the attention of both Caster and Assassin. Mordred, now fully armoured, points her blade at Shakespeare.

"That's right, Caster! Now stand right there and let me finish you quickly!"

As Mordred launches into her charge, Shakespeare's book snaps open and paper flies forth.

"First Folio! Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player, that struts and frets his hour upon my stage!"

-

"Out of the way, ane-san."

"I can't do that, Achilles."

Astolfo, flying overhead on his Hippogriff, is ignored as two pairs of eyes lock.

"Ane-san. I don't want to hurt you but-"

"Then don't. Join us and leave that priest behind! We talked about this before, remember?"

Achilles shakes his head, expression dark.

"No, we didn't. Your new Master has tricked you, stolen you away from the Red Faction and is controlling you somehow. So, to bring you back to your senses, I'm gonna kill him as soon as you get out of my way."

Silently, Atalanta raises her bow. Achilles looks at this, gaze sad, and rehefts his spear as he speaks softly, extending his other hand.

"You know you can't beat me; just come back to the Red Faction and I'll let you make your Wish in my place."

"You'll let me, will you? Do you know what my Wish even is, Achilles? In any case it was you, only nights ago, who said that doing the impossible is what being a hero is all about."

Achilles ignores Atalanata's words, eyes focusing past her to where the now-distant massive firestorm illuminates the whole field, where Atalanta can feel her Master in combat with Lancer of Red.

"You were my idol, you know. Ever since my father told me of your adventures with the Argo, and the hunt of the Calydonian boar, where you defeated him in wrestling, I've looked up to you. But now you're fighting for an unworthy cause, an unworthy master. The fury and the pain in me could drive me to carve and eat him raw for what he has done to you."

"So, you will tie him to the back of your chariot and drag him around the walls of Trifas?"

"If that's what it will take to return you to your sanity."

"Well. In that case we have nothing more to talk about. Swift-footed Achilles, you shall not pass while I live."

There's a burst of green thunder, and besides Achilles a chariot and three horses appear. In one motion, Achilles swings himself off the ground and onto the chariot, which begins to take to the air even as Atalanta's shot at his leg is deflected by the chariot's side armour. Eyes still locked on the distant firestorm of a battle, he ignores the land-bound Atalanta, unable to get a shot on his heel now that he is mounted.

"You can't stop me. Now wait there and-"

He hears Atalanta begin to chant her Noble Phantasm, but while the arrows of Apollo and Artemis might be divine enough to pierce his skin, he'll be long gone by the time they land-

"And now the star enters the stage!"

The voice is an unfamiliar one to Achilles, coming from above. Achilles' gaze jumps skywards, and he can make out the shape of the diving Rider of White, glowing lance held before her. Achilles scoffs and turns his chariot to meet the incoming Servant.

"You fool, what do you think you're doing challenging me with mount and spear? Out of my way!"

Achilles lashes out with his spear, and despite it's shorter range it seems to reach it's target before Rider of White's longer lance. However-

"Quadruple Down with a Touch! Trap of Argalia x4!"

Achilles feels his spear completely fail to land, the opposing Rider and mount flowing like mist around his attack. A moment later, something impacts his chest, uselessly glancing off Andreias Amarantos. He spins in place, trying to track where Rider of White is, before a panicked whinnying pulls his attention to the front of his chariot. Xanthus, Balius and Pedasos are straining. Their legs are gone, and with that the force keeping Troias Tragōidia airborne.

With a leap, Achilles springs away from the falling mass of legless horses and metal chariot, landing distant and kneeling on the ground. An instant after the chariot crashes to earth, Atalanta's Noble Phantasm rains down on the crash site. His link to his mounts cuts off, as Atalanta's storm of arrows cut through the horses, killing them instantly- despite Balius and Xanthus being divine horses that each could be considered Servants in their own right, both had been rendered defenceless by Rider, and then taken a direct hit from Atalanta's concentrated Noble Phantasm.

Once more ground-locked, he finally sees Rider of White. She's looking pleased with herself, flying high in the air and monologuing.

"I got to joust with Achilles! I always knew I had a talent for it, but to unhorse Achilles! I can't wait to tell Roland about this; he always was obsessed with tales of the Trojan Wars, what with his sword and-"

Her gaze falls on Achilles, and she trails off.

"Hey! You're still standing! I guess it was only a triple Trap then-"

She's mad, speaking nonsense. Achilles comes to that conclusion quickly and tunes out the rest of Rider of White's speech. A flash from the side, and he catches the arrow speeding towards his foot out of the air, crushing it in two as he stands. But he only barely caught it, it's speed shocking even him. Atalanta must have poured enough mana into the shot to raise it to an A-rank attack, something even he couldn't casually outspeed. His gaze turns to Atalanta, and with a flap of wings Rider of White lands by her side, both standing between him and his true foe.

"Two of you at once, then. Fine. If you all insist on getting in my way, I'll show you which side you should be fighting on."

-

The instant Mordred blasts free of Berserker, she's turning towards a booming laugh emanating from the forests. Her link to her new Master wavers, but quickly reconnects and she puts that out of her mind, instead focusing on her goal. Despite only having fought on the same battlefield once, Berserker recognizes it- the laugh of Spartacus. And that means, somewhere behind him…The dragon tooth warriors around her vanish as she lets the lightning built up in her Bridal Chest spill out, powering up her and obliterating the weak foes with random strikes of lightning. Then, she bursts away, towards the laughter.

Sure enough, as she leaps into the edge of the forest, she makes out the hulking form of Spartacus.

"Oppressor! Let me-"

Pulling more mana, she darts to the side, around Spartacus' gladius. Despite its short reach, the pressure of the cut slices through the trees behind her, but she's already past. There- she can feel her target now. The blue-robbed and bronze-masked Caster of Black, Avicebron.

The earth around her feet warps, as the previously hard dirt twists into impromptu golems. They can't be compared to the stone and metal golems Avicerbron previously could produce, but they were all he could manage now on such short notice. Behind her, she can feel Spartacus moving to catch up, but as long as he was unharmed and only powered by whatever dregs Avicebron could spare from his own Master the rebellious Berserker couldn't keep up. Behind his mask, she hears Avicebron speak.

"Oh Eve. Of all the Servants, you were the one I least wished to come to blows with- you were never a sinful human, after all. And yet you side with those desecrators, destroyers of my perfect creation Keter Malkuth, who would be Adam of a new and peaceful Eden."

Adam, Eve, creation, Eden. She's heard similar words before. Her hands tighter around the haft of her weapon.

Even as the golems close around her and Spartacus closes in from behind, Berserker drinks deep from her mana well and, channelling all her strength and anger those feelings bring to the surface, lets out a wordless yell and slams her glowing-yellow mace down into the ground before her. The earth shatters, a crater a dozen meters in diameter exploding into existence just from the brute force of the blow, and then lightning pours down her mace and into the ground, causing the forest to flare with green-yellow light.

The blast obliterates the golems around her, leaving Avicebron defenceless. Leaping through the blast, mace high, Berserker brings the heavy metal orb down on Caster's head with all her might. There's a sickening crunch, as metal mask and skull shatter all at once, and Caster drops like a stone.

"Your maker…was…truly…a genius…"

And with those final words, Caster vanishes into specks of mana.

Remembering what her new Master had told her, she ignores Spartacus, still trying to catch up to her with what mana he had, and bursts back towards the rest of the White Faction.

-

I pursue Karna, Reid striking against his divine spear an uncountable number of times in a single instant. Our fight has carried us to the other side of the field, away from the rest of fighting, leaving trail of glassed canyons as our deflected strikes had rent the earth and the firestorm surrounding Karna having turned that earth to molten glass. In addition to my bite, Karna's lightly bleeding from wounds to both arms and torso- Reid having been sufficient to wound the Servant through his golden armor. I'm not visibly wounded, but that's purely a consequence of repeatedly casting healing magic on myself, as well as another newly acquired Blessing- the Divine Protection of Physical Protection acting as knock-off of Karna's Armor, reducing physical attacks by 80%.

Semiramis's Hanging Garden looms nearby, but there's no new danger on that front; what few Dragon Tooth Warriors had nearby been instantly reduced to dust and for one reason or another, ever since my link to Mordred had become spotty there's been no more magecraft launched from the floating fortress. In any case, I can't afford to get distracted by the floating fortress and will just have to trust my precog if Semiramis does decide to intervene.

Karna swings his spear in an arc, summoning a wave of fire before me that I cut through with Reid, charging through the flames in order to once again get close to Karna and keep the pressure on. As I do I feel a familiar warning and remembering what happened before immediately stop in place, swinging my blade up as I push my reaction speed to its limit. The ray of light from Karna's eye is cut out of the air a meter before my face- at this distance I can, momentarily, push myself to even cut light.

Time returns to normal as I let out a breath at my success and resume my charge. Clearing the sea of fire, I see Karna kick off the ground and rise into the air, golden armour now joined by what looks like a pair of flaming wings. My healing magic is slipping away as I grasp at the three mana elements that power my own flight when I see Karna draw back his spear arm, the weapon turning into a fiery bolt. I drop my half-completed flight spell magic and place both hands on Reid as Karna launches his missile, and even tens of meters away I can feel it's heat, incomparable to the flame aura that glassed the earth around our battle.

Reid, swung two-handed, sings as it carves out brilliant semi-circle and the lance of magical flame speeding my way is cleared; not merely countered but outright deleted as the texture of the world before my Swordplay is cut away. A moment later, there's a second shake as the world rushes to repair the displaced space, the air and flame around us sucked into the spatial vacuum. However, there's no pause to take this in; the instant the missile visibly fails, Karna raises his hand and I'm surrounded by a dozen flaming replicas of his spear that hang in the air for a moment before launching down a me. Reid again slashes out at the incoming blasts, and the battle continues.

-

With the massive bulk of the black dragon before her, Artoria's mind flashes back to the last great dragon she fought, and her gaze flicks towards Excalibur. Thankfully, the golden glow of the holy blade remains unextinguished. Still, even if Fafnir was not Vortigen, that did not mean the battle would be a simple one, even with a worthy ally by her side.

"Amakusa Shirou Tokisada, what have you done!? I wish White had been mistaken, but-"

There's a rumble from the chest of the dragon before it, to Artoria's shock, replies in a deeper and distorted voice that she recognizes from the Church several nights ago.

"White?! That thief who stole my Servants and now tries to steal my G- Wish? And that must be White's Servant you are fighting alongside- overflowing with energy like a dragon herself. But the Ruler of this war wishes to censure me?"

Jeanne ignores the dragon's rant and continues speaking, gaze surprisingly hard .

"I would have opposed your Wish to be sure, but I can understand the seductive appeal of your Salvation. But to turn oneself into the Evil Dragon for power is unthinkable! Do you have so little faith that you resort to measures like this!?"

There's a shift in the dragon's expression, high above the two Servants, and Artoria is already bringing Excalibur up as the dragon's mouth opens to reply. The reply is, this time, not of words but a wave of black fire spilling down on the two of them. Jeanne's flag shines brightly as she raises it to the wave of fire, but her Noble Phantasm proves unnecessary as Excalibur cuts down, the golden wave of magic crashing into Fafnir's breath and cancelling it.

Artoria is again raising her blade, readying another blast, when something goes horrendously wrong. The link to her Master cuts off without warning, the shock disrupting her Noble Phantasm, and she spins in place towards her Master.

'Master! Are you-'

The link re-establishes itself immediately, but in the moment before it does her eyes fall on her Master, standing dead still with a charred hole through his chest.

'I'm ok. No need to worry. I'll be free to help in five minutes, so try and hold on until then.'

No, he was not 'ok'. But a discussion would have to wait until after this battle was over. Her instincts again shout a warning, but Jeanne's banner bursts with light before she can turn to bring Excalibur about, and the fireball washes over and around Luminosité Eternelle. With defence handled, Artoria completes her turn and swing, the beam clipping the edge of Fafnir's wing as he twists desperately out of the way, already moving before the attack was launched. For a second time she raises her blade, when the dragon dives from the sky and lands with a shattering thud on the ground. On the ground between her and the city of Trifas. The glow around her blade dulls, as she lets the energy she had built up in the blade dissipate. The dragon had not yet posed such a great threat that the annihilation of the city would be a worthy trade.

The dragon's landing, however, finally opens him up to Jeanne. Both Servants charge forwards at once, now that it is clear that any attempt at talking to Shirou-Fafnir would be a waste of words. The great dragon snarls and smashes its front arm down before the two Servants. The brute force of the attack is shocking, as the dragon's strength causes the earth meters before the pair to crater and explode. Still, the blow had been too early and both Servants manage to charge through the aftermath, speed allowing them to skip over the damaged terrain and even jump off pieces of still-airborne debris.

Artoria's instincts again warn her, but this time from two sides- attacks coming from both fore and rear. Jeanne must have felt the same, as from the corner of Artoria's eye she can make out the Ruler already turning to defend from behind, leaving her to counter Fafnir's breath with a quick slash of Excalibur. As the blast clears, however, there's a burst of pain as something- a long, thin blade, penetrates her from behind. With Avalon, this level of wound is of no concern, and even when the blade pulses with magic, Artoria's Magic Resistance counters the spell easily. She pulls the blade free, and in doing so her gaze lands on Jeanne. It seems the Ruler was not so fortunate. Another of the blades had managed to cut Jeanne, and the flesh around the wound was turning a grey colour as it petrified into stone. Somehow, the magic that had failed to effect Artoria had succeeded against the more Magic-Resistant Ruler. Neither Servant pause at this, however, and as one the two slam into the dragon, Artoria head-on while Jeanne flanks left.

Excalibur's blade tears through dragonscale, leaving a wound on the dragon's limb it had defended itself with. However, the wound is surprisingly shallow, the scales of Fafnir dulling the blow. Jeanne's strike finds even less success, as the blow with her flag fails to damage the scales at all. Jeanne is forced to leap away, as the dragon swivels it's bulk towards Artoria while striking out at Ruler with its tail. It seems that Jeanne's inability to wound Fanfir has led the dragon to dismiss her, compared to the threat of the one who could injure him.

-

It's beyond galling for Atalanta to admit but she will not be able to delay Achilles for the five minutes required. Even with all the advantages they possessed, in mana and Command Seal boosting and numbers and information, Achilles was simply better. The only reason the pair had been able to hold out this long was because Achilles was focusing his efforts on the newly joined Astolfo, who could at least avoid death with his mount. But with every clash and every pass, Achilles came closer and closer to landing a blow. Her arrows, meanwhile, were dodged or glanced uselessly off Achilles' skin, and the one time she had again tried her Noble Phantasm Achilles had instantly charged her and it had required all the skill of both Servants of White to get her clear of his spear.

There was one thing left she could try, but…to use that would be to renounce her status as hero and become a monster. Even if she succeeded, would her blackened hands be able to grasp the Grail and save the children of this world? Her Master had promised that even if she could not make her Wish he would in her place, but could she trust his words in this? But if White failed here, no-one would be able to save the children. The Red Faction would doom all the children of the world to death because of the greed and obstinance of Red's Ruler.

If she must become a monster, then let it be for a good cause. As Astolfo brings his mount around for another charge at Achilles, Atalanta reaches out telepathically.

'Rider. I will need a second free of Achilles' attention.'

'Oh? A super-secret last minute pow-'

"Gotcha!"

And then the blow that Atalanta had been dreading lands. Astolfo had used his Hippogriff to pass through Achilles' spear before once more attempting to land a blow with his lance, but Achilles had moved faster than Rider could react and, with his free hand, grabbed the neck of the Rider as he returned to this side of the world to attack. Achilles' grab drags Astolfo off him mount, hurling him into the earth. As Astolfo lies stunned in the crater, Achilles looms over him and with a kick sends Astolfo's lance arcing away while leveling his spear at the helpless Servant.

"You have to become physical again when you attack- so all I needed to do was be faster. Now get out of the way, you crappy Ri-"

A white-clad missile slams into Achilles back, arcs of green lighting illuminate the sky as Fran's mace impacts. But Achilles remains unharmed- the blow had not hit his heel. With shocking speed even for a high-class Servant, he rounds on the Berserker and in one motion plunges his spear all the way through the artificial being's stomach. The world seems to pause for a moment before he kicks the body off his spear before immediately bringing it down on her head.

Just before the blow lands, Fran vanishes, teleported away by a Command Seal at the last moment. Achilles' spear rends the earth where her head had been, and with a dark scowl he pulls it loose and rounds on Atalanta and the still-stumbling Astolfo. His eyes widen when he sees what Atalanta has in her hand, and he raises his free hand towards her imploringly.

"Ane-san. What are you doing? If you do that, you won't be able-"

"-to call myself a Hero? A better world for children is more important than my status."

"You won't make that Wish if you turn into a monster!"

"I might not. But my Master will."

"You would trust a Magus of all people? You've been driven mad."

But Atalanta has already lifted the dark boar's head in her hands, blackened, corrupted mana spilling forth from the Noble Phantasm.

"No. I do this of my own free will, for my dream of a better world. I was always willing to kill anyone if it would achieve my Wish- it should be no surprise this includes myself! Agrius Metamorphosis: Boar of Divine Punishment!"

Notes:

AN: Half of the big fight here, finishing it off next chapter and then another few chapters in this world before rolling.

Rein tries to diplomatically defuse Karna, but Shirou saw that coming way back in Chapter 7 and preemptively lolnoped that. From there Rein, somewhat underexperienced and panicked and feeling a need to end this battle ASAP, overextends in landing his (eventual)-one-hit-kill move and Karna punishes, but can't punish enough to win outright. From there, the fight devolves into a drawn out brawl where both sides are impossibly tanky (80% immune+Regen v 90% immune) and also throwing out weapon-nukes like candy, though Karna has to withhold on Vasavi Shakti because he can't afford the moments of vulnerability that come with dismissing his armour thanks to Reid.

Mordred uses the FGO Inheritance method of reaching the garden, but once there there's no fighting. Mordred and Semi just duel with words once Semi realizes Mordred wants to fight (Semi: "I would challenge you to a battle of wits, but I see you are unarmed" Mordred: "Fuck off and die"). This reveals that, with Shirou's differing attitude thanks to Fafnir-contamination+Chp1 White infobombing, Shirou+Semiramis' relationship isn't as it was in canon and she effectively decides to go neutral up until Shakespeare senses a disturbance in the plot and jumps in to add some drama. God I love Shakespeare.

Fran v Spartacus and Avicebron is the "not every battle has to/can be a dramatic struggle" fight, where on one hand you have a fully mana-empowered Berserker who (basically) retains her sanity enough to use tactics and the info she has on her opponents, and on the other you have two mana-starved Servants (even with Avicebron being a low-upkeep Caster, Roche is the only actual mana source for the Black Remnants), one of whom is a non-combat Caster who lost his workshop and all his prep, and one who has conditions to become dangerous (that the opposition knows about and won't trigger). Results are a dead Caster and an offscreen-starved-to-death Berserker.

Artoria + Jeanne v FafnirShirou has Fafnir forced to abandon the skies thanks to danger of repeated Excaliblast and so he uses Trifas as a shield. He also starts to mix in Shirou's abilities with Fafnir's strength, leading to his melee distraction and Black Key Set + Internment Sacrament trick, which penetrates Jeanne's EX MR because Jeanne's MR doesn't cover Church abilities. Siegfried's Fafnir also has the equivalent of Dragon Armor of Fafnir because the whole point of that was that Siegfried gained Fafnir's defences and scales, which means Fafnir had em from the start (which is my explanation for how come Fafnir-Sieg can tank a surprise Vasavi Shakti in FGO). Turns out, an anti-dragon specialist is real important if Fafnir shows up.

Achilles v Atalanta+Astolfo is…real bad for White, in that neither can actually hurt Achilles (baring maaaaybe Phoebus Catastrophe, which could be Divine given the nature of the arrow rain) and he's a straight up better fighter who also has better stats than either even with two Command Seals boosting them against him specifically. Thankfully, because of Chp7 and the Command Seal used there, he's more invested in trying to talk Atalanta down/killing Rein than in actually fighting her. This leads to Astolfo getting the drop on him in an aerial joust, and because of Astolfo's infinite mana Hippogriff-shenanigans the pair manage to de-Chariot Achilles. Of course, that just means he takes them seriously as obstacles now so yeah. Once he gets serious, even Fran's addition doesn't stop him from basically wiping the floor with the three, up until Atalanta decides that she needs to go boar-mode.