chpater 5

Chapter Text

"Nice night for a stroll in the woods, don't you think?" I asked the female Servant, who tilted her head slightly at me. Next to me, I can feel the three women and single man staring at me in their own confusion. I was trying to banter with the intruder to buy time for the others to join us properly, as well as try to develop a plan.

While a lot of problems this singularity have been solved by simply throwing Mordred and the other Servants at the problem, I don't want to risk one of them getting injured, nor do I want to lose the chance to reduce the enemy's ranks.

The Servant nodded with a serene smile tinged with sadness. "It is, but also a lonely night," she sighed. Jeanne kept her flagpole leveled at her, eyes hardened and ready for combat.

"Who are you?" She asked, causing a puzzled expression on our foe.

"Who?" She echoed. "Let's see, I wonder who I am. I forced myself to be a righteous saint, but in this world I'm a slave to a broken one."

"DO you mean the Dragon Witch?" I asked, being given a nod as a response.

"Yes. Thanks to her, my reason has left, replaced with madness," she replied, lowering her head apologetically. "I am doing everything I can to hold myself back. What a mess this is," she sighed.

"So, there's no chance for you to join us and stop the Dragon Witch, then?" Jeanne asked.

"While I appreciate the offer, and your hopes, I regretfully cannot do so. After all, you don't want a Servant who'll stab you from behind at the first opportunity, do you?" I sense Mordred stiffen, perhaps feeling insulted. Whether our foe meant to or not, I cannot tell. I nudge her gently with my elbow, and she slips back into her fighting stance.

"Then why did you come here?" Jeanne asked, having not noticed my little exchange with the Saber.

"My task was to observe you, but my waning reason whispers that I should test you." Test us? Is she being serious about how she is viewing the inevitable fight we are simply prolonging at this point?!? "You face the Dragon Witch. Disaster Incarnate, riding on the 'ultimate' dragon'. If you cannot surpass me, you will never defeat her or her minions." By this point the female Servant was tightly gripping her weapon, gritting her teeth as traces of bloodlust start to show.

"Defeat me. Plunge your blade into my heart without hesitation or pity! My True Name is Martha, a member of the Rider-class! Now come to me, Iron Dragon Tarasque!" A bright light fills the forest, forcing me to raise a hand over my eyes as I closed them. I feel someone pushing me backwards.

"Martha…Saint Martha? Oh no…" Doctor Roman said, concern leaking out of his voice as the light behind her began to fade. "Watch out everyone! Saint Martha once defeated a dragon with nothing but prayers! If she really is a Servant who is about to fight you, that means she's a dragon rider!" The words of both the Servant and Doctor Roman connected as one of the many tales of dragons that my mom had read to me before bedtime.

Opening my eyes, I see that Sasaki, Mordred, and Jeanne were forming a line. Standing next to me was Marie, a grim expression on her face as a roar filled the clearing. Standing behind the Berserker Rider was a monstrosity.

The full moon that shone its light allowed me to see its full features. It stood on six short, bear-like legs that supported an oxen-like body. A scaly tale swished aggressively through the air behind it, the appendage ending with a barbed sting like one would find on a scorpion. Protecting its back was a domed-shape shell that looked similar to one that you would find protecting a turtle, though the spikes jutting out was new.

The most horrifying aspect to me, though, was its face. It was shaped vaguely like a human, but with the features of a lion. It snarled at us, faint clouds of smoke billowing from its flared nostrils, hinting at the possibility of it being a fire-breather. It's smoldering black eyes were narrowed as it roared again, forcing me to cover my ears.

Reborn once more was the Tarasque. A true dragon, unlike the horde of wyverns that we had encountered. A flicker of terror was ignited at the sight of it. "Hey, Jeanne," I said, licking suddenly dry lips, "Is there any chance you could say a prayer or something to tame that dragon?" I asked, a bit hysterical. In my defense, though, it's a dragon! Jeanne didn't respond, undoubtedly recognizing that I was trying to make a joke and not succumb to fear.

"Jacob Senpai!" I turned around to see Mash, Ritsuka, and the rest of the Servants coming towards us. Upon seeing the dragon, Mash and her Master briefly fumbled upon seeing the dragon, before Chulainn nudged them from behind. Chulainn and Mash joined the line, while Medea and Amadeus followed Ritsuka as he stood beside me.

"Hell of a way to wake up," I muttered to a nervous Ritsuka, who grunted in agreement.

"Got a plan?" I hesitated for a brief second before nodding.

"Yeah. Have Mash and Chulainn focus on either distracting or better yet, defeating her dragon. I'll have Sasaki help you out. Jeanne and Mordred will engage the Servant. You ok with that?" I said quietly.

"Good luck," Ritsuka said, and I nodded in response. "Mash! Chulainn! Focus on the dragon!"

"Orders understood, Senpai!"

"You got it!"

I turned to my three Servants before me. "Sasaki, support Mash and Chulainn." The Assassin neither spoke nor looked back, bowing his head slightly as a sign of acknowledgement before shifting his posture towards the now-advancing Tarasque. "Mordred, Jeanne. Work together and take down that Rider!"

"You got it!" Mordred said a bit savagely, raising Clarent over her head in preparation for her first attack.

"Understood," Jeanne said in a calmer tone, though no less ready to fight.

A nod from Martha was the last thing I saw before everyone sprang into action in the blink of an eye. The Tarasque howled as it charged forward, as did Mordred. Mash slammed her shield into the ground, glyphs glowing in the air before it as the dragon bore down on her. Flashes of blue, red, purple, and metal as Sasaki, Chulainn, and Jeanne began their own attacks. Medea flung out her arm and a purple shield of energy was raised just in time to divert a stream of burning fire that had been aimed at Ritsuka and I.

Overwhelmed by the various sights in the first few seconds of combat, I shook my head as I silently reprimand myself. 'Focus, Jacob. Ritsuka has the dragon, you have the suped-up Servant to focus on,' I thought.

Looking back at the fight between Servants, I wince as I see the butt of Martha's staff connect solidly to Mordred's midriff, sending her sprawling backwards. The Knight of Rebellion recovered quickly, however, getting back to her feet, no doubt growling in frustration. Martha flicked her staff, deflecting Mordred's swing of Clarent before jumping back slightly, avoiding being impaled by Jeanne's flagstaff.

The Ruler's eyes widened when the Berserker Rider grabbed the shaft of the flagpole and yanked on it, throwing Jeanne off-balance. She released a low grunt as Martha dragged her into an extended elbow, causing her to bend over, winded from the impact. Before Martha could deliver another blow, however, Mordred threw herself back into the fray, slamming an armored gauntlet into her mouth.

Martha's head snapped to the side, a light spray of blood flying out as she stumbled backward. However, she waved her staff a bit wildly, preventing Mordred from delivering a successful follow-up attack.

I bit my lip nervously while watching. The way the battle was going, at least on my end, was completely different from La Charité. At the time, I had dismissed Jeanne Alter's words to Vlad about holding back as merely venting over an unexpected defeat. Now I was reconsidering those words as I watched Mordred and Jeanne struggling against Martha.

A lucky shot from Martha saw her staff slam into the side of Mordred's torso, disrupting the Saber's guard. Before she could recover, the Berserker Rider struck out again, taking full advantage of the gap. I winced at the dull clang of Martha's silvery cross slamming into Mordred's helmet. The Saber stumbled backwards, disoriented from the concussive force of the blow no doubt, and didn't notice the round house kick that sent her sprawling onto the floor, Clarent slipping out of her grasp.

"Mordred!" Jeanne and I both shouted, as the former rushed in to give her fellow blonde a chance to recover, delivering a rapid set of jabs and thrusts that didn't cause her to over-extend her guard or give her opponent another chance to grab the weapon after a missed strike. Eventually, one manages to get through, ripping the sleeve open on the right side and delivering what looked like a long, shallow cut to Martha's right arm.

I opened my mouth to cheer when the Berserker Rider merely snarled and headbutted a surprise Jeanne once, twice, three times in rapid succession. I wince at hearing the sound of bone breaking, the cause being Jeanne's nose. The now-injured Ruler gasped in pain and shock, before Martha slapped her in the face with the flat of the cross, dazing my temporary Servant as blood leaked down her right cheek from the blow as well as from her broken nose.

Martha raised her weapon over her head like a club, madness dancing cruelly in eyes that only minutes ago had been peaceful. "Jeanne!" I cried, starting to move forward before one of the Casters or Marie, I did not know who, grabbed my shoulder. I fight to break free, unwilling to let another comrade die before my eyes, unwilling to let another Director Animusphere down, when an armored hand grabs the cross from behind.

Mordred's helmet was retracted, her green eyes burning in fury. "That's enough you bitch," I heard her snarl, lips curled back in anger.

Still in the grips of madness, the Berserker Rider tried to yank her weapon out Mordred's hand. Too close to swing or even thrust properly with her sword, Mordred instead slams the pommel of Clarent into Martha's gut, bending the saint over for once. A follow-up knee strike sent her flying through the air, minus her weapon.

Flipping through the air, Martha landed on her feet as Mordred tossed the staff she held over her back. "You managed to get in some good blows, I'll admit that," Mordred growled dangerously, eyes locked onto the enemy Servant. "But I'm finishing this here and now. I've come too far to be beaten this early!" As she shouted those words, red lightning crackled off of her body.

"MANA BURST!" The Knight of Rebellion said as she activated the ability, increasing her speed and strength before launching herself forward once more. A cruel grin unbefitting of a saint was all Martha replied with before darting forward, becoming a blur of motion.

Then, there is a sickening sound, and the two reappeared. Mordred's shoulders moved up and down as she looked into the eyes of Saint Martha, whom she had just impaled with Clarent. The Berserker Rider tried to move forward, but it did no good. Then I noticed the mad glint in her eyes being replaced with calm and pain.

Mordred did it. She had defeated the first of the Berserker Servants we would face. Unlike the other times that she had won the fight, though, there was no clear expression of victory on her features, but one of grudging respect.

At that moment, a howl filled with anger and pain caused me to look away. The large form of Martha's dragon began to fade away in the golden dust that the Berserker Rider herself began to. A battered Chulainn pulls his cursed spear out of the breast of the monster, red eyes warily watching the dying creature.

"…I see," Martha coughed up blood, some of it drippling down the corner of her mouth. "That's enough," she said with great effort. Jeanne looks at her fellow saint with a pained expression.

"Martha," the Ruler began to speak, her voice nasally from the broken nose that thankfully had stopped bleeding. "Did you-"

"Hold back?" Martha laughed, grimacing as she finished the Ruler's question. "Of course not. This is fine." You call getting impaled by a sword fine?!? "It's better this way, that I didn't kill any of you. Trust me, don't make a saint massacre you!" No one laughed at the weak joke. By this point, the lower half of the dying Servant had faded out of existence. She didn't have much time left, and she knew it. "Listen, let me tell you a thing or two." She said, a serious expression once more present.

"Is it about that 'ultimate dragon' you mentioned earlier?" I asked, receiving a nod. Ritsuka and Mash were now standing by us.

"Yes. As you stand now, none of you will be able to defeat the dragon controlled by the Dragon Witch. Fortunately, there is a way to surpass that type of dragon. Lyon…go to the city once known as Lyon. There, you will find a dragon slayer capable of killing it." I nodded my head in thanks, but the purple-haired Servant was no longer looking at us, her gaze instead focused on her companion. The creature was only a shrinking head looking at its master with a sorrowful expression. "Tarasque, forgive me," she whispered as the dragon finished dissolving, herself also almost completely gone. "Next time…I hope I'll be summoned…properly…"

Her voice faded away with her body, leaving behind a wrecked clearing in a moonlight forest. For a long moment no one said anything, exhausted from either the strain and stress (in the case of Ritsuka and I) or injuries. Finally, Jeanne d'Arc broke the silence.

"Even Saint Martha can't resist her," she said, sounding in pain. I had a feeling the pain wasn't from a broken nose or any other injury she may have sustained during the fight. Before I could try to say something comforting, however, Mash beats me to it.

"She'd undergone Madness Enhancement, in addition to being summoned," she reminded the forlorn-looking saint. "Perhaps it can't be helped. Normally, it should have been impossible to even talk to her. The only reason we managed to do so was because of her incredible self-control."

"Oui. She was a peaceful, yet fierce, person in life," Marie chimed in, walking over and resting a delicate hand comfortingly on Jeanne's right shoulder. "She is the Iron Saint. She is a woman like adamantine, who solved problems with her fists to the end." The words seemed to comfort her fellow countrywoman. It seems that the two of them had grown rather close as friends while I was asleep.

"They say she defeated the Tarasque with a sermon, but I bet she just beat it up," Amadeus mused absentmindedly. I tried laughing but only managed to make an awkward chuffing sound. I shake my head and clear my throat.

"Well, we have our next destination then. Question is, do we wait for daybreak to break camp or head out now?" The composer was the first to respond, rather enthusiastically as well.

"Thanks to the actions of Saint Martha, we know where we're going. I say we should hurry and get to Lyon before we miss the chance to meet our dragon slayer!"

Behind me, I could hear Mash whispering quietly to Marie, sounding both surprised and confused by the jovial expression on Amadeus's face. "I'm surprised. Amadeus seemed like, um, the type of person who'd hate to travel on foot," she confessed, causing the Rider to giggle slightly before answering.

"Oh no, Amadeus loves traveling," Marie replied. "He's travelled to many places ever since he was a child." Before we could be further distracted, however, I cleared my throat, gaining everyone's attention.

"Amadeus, while I am delighted to see your enthusiasm, I wish to remind you that this battle was not without injuries. Ritsuka, can you check on the injuries sustained by your Servants as well as Sasaki, while I do the same with mine?" As soon as I heard his confirmation of agreement, I walked briskly over to Jeanne and Mordred.

"How bad is you nose, Jeanne?" I asked hurriedly to the injured Ruler. Jeanne winced slightly as she gingerly touched it. I know that Servants have better endurance than humans, but that doesn't mean they can't feel pain from injuries of any kind.

"It's broken, but it seems that the blood has clotted. I think a short rest would allow for it to heal properly, though I can still fight if we decide to not wait. I nodded, chewing on the inside of my right cheek softly before shifting my gaze towards the shorter of the two blondes.

"What about you, Mordred?" The knight grimaced at my question, before turning to the side and spitting out a glob of blood.

"I think that saint broke a few ribs. It hurts like a bitch, but I should be fine in a few hours," she grunts. I try not wince at those words as the image of my Servant and friend being surrounded and beaten by a cluster of skeletons came unwanted to my memory. Nearby, I could hear Ritsuka asking similar questions.

In addition to the injuries sustained by Jeanne and Mordred, Mash had been burned slightly on her right side, Chulainn had a fracture wrist from a mistimed spear thrust that bounced off of the shell of the Tarasque, and Sasaki a sprained ankle from a hidden tree root. While no one had been critically injured, it would still take a few hours for the minor injuries to heal if we wanted our main hitting force to operate at maximum efficiency. Considering the fight we just endured, and that there were at least four other enhanced Servants still on the prowl, it seemed like a stupid risk. On the other hand, though, there was still the fact that Amadeus had pointed out of the risk of this mysterious dragon slayer either moving to a different area of France, or worse, cut down by Jeanne Alter and her cronies.

"Well, I think it is a good thing then that I have an idea to fix everyone up," Marie said cheerfully, causing everyone, even Amadeus, to look at her with questioning looks. "While my Noble Phantasm is mainly an Anti-Army type, it does have a very useful side effect. If I allow it, it heals any number of my allies, restoring mana and removing any burns, curses, or toxins."

"Well, that is a relief. If you think it is a good idea, Marie, then go for it," Ritsuka said with a clearly relieved smile. I nodded in agreement. After all, this would remove the only argument that I had to support the idea of waiting a few hours before moving, even though Ritsuka and I would get little if any more sleep.

"Wishing to blossom, visibly in the open! Dancing, to blossom in full glory! Passing through, Guillotine breaker!" A bright light surrounded us, and I felt a soft, warm, tingling sensation in my body. I felt re-energized.

When it fades away, I blink my eyes several times to re-adjust to the darkness of the night. Once I had done so, my jaw drops slightly. While dried blood still clung to Jeanne's nose and upper lip, her nose had been restored to its proper shape. The cut that had accompanied the injury had healed, leaving not even a scar.

I turned to Mordred, out of her armor once more, who was gingerly pressing a hand to her bare side, an eyebrow raised before she looked at the Rider with an impressed expression. I released a soft chuckle, shaking my head in relief as I saw that Marie's plan had worked out.

"Wow, that was amazing Marie!" Ritsuka said excitedly, drawing a pleased expression from the French queen.

"I might not be the best front-line fighter of the group, but I can still help in both taking down enemies and healing. Just try to not require me to use it after every battle. Guillotine Breaker can be a bit of a mana drain for me." Ritsuka and I nodded in understanding before looking at one another with determined expressions on our faces.

With our party back in top fighting condition, and the advice of a defeated adversary to guide our next move, we were one large step closer to storming Orléans, defeating the Dragon Witch, and securing the Holy Grail.

"Well, let's pack up our camp and start to move. If I am judging the position of the moon correctly, dawn is only a few hours away. Let's get as much distance from here as possible before more enemies arrive." Receiving signs of agreement, I adopted a confidant expression, resting my hands on my hips. "Next stop, Lyon!"

Notes:

And done! In this fight scene, my train of thought was that it would be harder for our heroes because unlike with Berserker Lancer and Berserker Assassin, Martha declared her intention to go all out. I also kinda imagined her fighting style to be a combination of both her Rider and Ruler forms. Also, I thought that to balance things out, that she would summon her mount, the Tarasque, and have it fight, even though that isn't quite the case in-game. Thoughts on the idea? Also, let me know what you thought of what you think of this fight.

Another thing of note: I actually have another story that I am planning out based on a dream that I had. Unlike the Will to Fight, it will be an AU crime/mystery/drama in a college setting with Master Candidates and Servants. I might end up not putting it out, and even when/if I do, it won't take over priority for this story. I'll probably talk mroe about it in another A/N in a future chapter, but I wanted to test the waters with the basic ideas.

Now, for the fun part of every chapter ending, the questions! Question number one: Of the Berserker Servants in the First Singularity (Berserker Lancer, Berserker Saber...ectara), which one(s) were your favorite?

Question 2: This is more because I like to know, but what drew you into this story?

Anyways, hope you all enjoyed, and see you next chapter!

Chapter Text

Inside the devastated remains of the settlement of Orléans, countless wyverns and undead milled about the charred fields. Aside from quiet roars or clacking of bones, not a single sound could be heard.

Then came a shrill cry of anger, followed by the dying squawk of a wyvern that had all who serve the Dragon Witch pause and look back at the castle.

"Rider committed suicide," Jeanne seethed, pulling out the tip of her flagstaff from a hapless wyvern that had 'volunteered' to serve as a source of stress relief. The fallen Ruler began to pace back and forth around the room, her brow furrowed. "It's troublesome that she managed to somehow retain her sanity even with Madness Enhancement. Still, she likely fought with all of her might. If that is the case, we can't let our guard down. Next time, I will take to the field with our new 'friend'. I will also be taking the Servants we summoned tonight once morning comes. Contact Berserker Assassin," Jeanne Alter said, looking at the other occupant in the room, and quite possibly the only one in the world safe from her wrath.

"Of course," Gilles de Rais said soothingly, a tone that she still found somewhat ridiculous considering that his eyes were always busy staring in different directions! Seriously, what the hell? Gilles continued speaking, unaware of Jeanne Alter's personal thoughts. "If I were who I was before, I would've stopped you," he admitted, sounding perhaps troubled for the briefest of moments before he smiled excitedly. "But now you're perfect, Jeanne! You don't even need luck! Please, trample over them as much as you wish!" He urged cruelly, closing his eyes with a content smile at his face. She couldn't help but smile at her ever-faithful comrade and his words of encouragement. Even after being betrayed by the ones she had sacrificed everything for, he had stood by her side.

Jeanne Alter frowned though. The brief thoughts of the past caused a re-surfacing of a question that had been troubling her ever since the showdown at La Charité, when she encountered that blond lookalike who claimed to also be Jeanne d'Arc. "Gilles," she finally said, causing the Caster to open his eyes and stare (at least, as best he could all things considered) at her. "Which do you think is the real one? Me, or her?" Her companion answered without hesitation.

"Of course it's you. Haven't you been listening, Jeanne?" Gilles responded with an almost chiding tone. "You were burned at the stake. Betrayed, by everyone! Charles left you to die, merely to avoid paying the ransom! Not a single person rose to bravely fight for your return! And what was the cause of all this?" He roared, throwing his hands up into the air. Jeanne watched as he spat at the ground. "It was God! It was our God, mocking us! Thus, we deny God. Don't we, Jeanne?"

The fallen Ruler mulled his words over, before shaking her head. Yes, she had been betrayed. Murdered.  "Yes," she finally decided. "Yes, you're correct, Gilles. I have nothing left. My soldiers are gone, and my admirers fled. The king betrayed me and the bishop burnt me in the name of God. I have nothing left but hate," she admitted, before narrowing her eyes, staring at the mural of the Resurrection that she had ordered brought up from the chapel. Her lips curling up in a snarl, she slammed the butt of her flagstaff at the center, destroying it.

"I was wrong. No, everything was wrong. Not just what I believed in. The very country that allowed me to exist was wrong. This mistake must be righted. Jeanne d'Arc was a mistake. So let us do as they decided, and make it all so it never happened." She flicked her hand at the ruined mural dismissively, causing a fire to roar into existence as it devastated the remains. She stared intently at the hungry flames, all too similar to the ones that had her skin and charred her bones. "My salvation was itself a fatal mistake."

"Jeanne," Gilles said sadly, causing her to look away and face a concerned Caster. "Please, don't put yourself under such stress. This is a divine punishment. Nothing more. Your revenge is righteous. What you saved, you may destroy. Isn't that all there is to it?" He asked. Jeanne Alter nodded.

"What you say may be extreme, but it still brings me strength," she grunted in agreement. She was done with this conversation anyways. There was much to do, after all, and she found herself interested in confronting that Master who had stood up to her in the remains of the town. She wondered if he would beg for mercy as fire consumed his body after she defeated the Servants accompanying him. Or would he merely stare defiantly, or even hatred?

"Berserker, Assassin, mount your wyverns and follow me," she finally said, shaking her head slightly as she noticed the light beginning to creep through the windows of the room. A loud, booming roar shook the foundations of Orléans as Jeanne Alter's newest and most deadly weapon awoke from its slumber.

It was time to go hunting

Powered by the application of Marie's Noble Phantasm, we had made great progress in the dying hours of the night as we traveled south. The journey had been silent, with only a few ten to fifteen-minute-long pauses to allow for Ritsuka and I to catch our breaths. I was able to enjoy a rather stunning, if ominous, sunrise. The inkiness of night was splattered with blood-red light.

Even as I admired it, I instinctively shuddered. Old rhymes warning about the dangers of a red sunrise played softly in my mind. A week ago, if someone were to ask me if I believed in superstitions, I would have scoffed (politely) and dismiss the idea. However, the things I had witness, both miraculous and heinous, had shaken that dismissiveness.

Danger was ahead.

Mordred must have noticed how long I had been staring at the red sky now fading into an orange as the sun continued climbing, for she nudges me slightly. "Not getting cold feet or something, are we?" She teased, though I thought that I could make out a glint of concern in her eyes. I forced myself to smile.

"Not on my life," I replied as ahead of us, the vanguard of Servants paused, bringing the rest of us to a halt. Marie walked over to Ritsuka and I, her typical smile beaming at us.

"Ritsuka, Jacob, we've found a town up ahead. I was thinking of going down and seeing what news I can find out from Lyon, if that is alright?" She asked, staring at Ritsuka. As Jeanne had become my temporary Servant for this Singularity, Marie (and by extension, Amadeus) was Ritsuka's. Confidant enough to not seek my approval, a small mercy if I might add, my fellow Master nodded.

"Alright, just be careful," he said for good measure as Marie clapped her hands excitedly.

"Oui, it shouldn't take long. An hour or three at most. Enjoy your little break," she said, waving at us in an adorable manner before skipping down the hill overlooking the town. I shake my head in awe and amusement.

"You know," I said idly to my fellow Master as we sat down, while Mash rummaged through our supply sack to dig out another flavorless breakfast. "If we somehow hooked Marie up to a generator or a battery, would she be able to solve the world's energy crisis?" My joke elicited a round of hearty laughter not only from Ritsuka, but also Mash, Mordred, Jeanne, and even Amadeus.

"Welcome back," I grunted, pushing myself up onto my feet. Marie was skipping towards us, a smile on her face. Considering how long she was gone, that probably means she has something good to share, or at least important.

"I got the information!" Marie said in her usual, cheerful tone. Jeanne gave a smile of relief, no doubt feeling bad about not being able to help her fellow countrywoman in asking about Lyon in town. Sure enough, what she says next confirmed my theory.

"That's great. I'm sorry again about not being able to help," Jeanne said to her newfound friend with a forlorn look, turquoise eyes staring down at the still-intact town. "I will cause a panic if I had gone into town, or any other towns undoubtedly." Marie was about to comment when I gave a light, playful shove to Jeanne's shoulder.

"Oi, Jeanne, relax. It's ok," I said, shaking my head good-naturedly as Marie tittered merrily into the palm of her hand. Jeanne blushed but nodded. I had taken a personal interest in trying to not let the Ruler always be a downer on herself over a situation she cannot help. "So, Marie, what were you saying?"

"I have good news, and bad news," the Rider reported to Ritsuka and I. "The bad news is that the city Saint Martha had told us about, Lyon, has been completely destroyed recently, and the survivors have settled here." I released a soft hiss of disappointment. I had hoped that perhaps the way that the Berserker Rider had referred to the city wasn't an indicator of its current state. Jeanne sighed, and this time I don't bother trying to shift the mood.

"The 'once known as' nuanced had interested me," the saint confessed, looking solemnly at Marie. "So it's just as I feared?" Marie's smile slipped from her face as she nodded somberly.

"Oui. The city is filled with monsters that seem to have risen from the depths of hell. However, it's what came before that is the good news. The refugees told me about how Lyon had a protector?"

"A protector?" Mash repeated, curiosity peaked. Marie nodded, a smaller smile back on her face.

"A knight with a large sword, who defeated wyverns and skeletons."

"I see," Jeanne said, rubbing at her chin with a thoughtful expression. Perhaps that's the Servant Martha spoke of."

"Quite possibly. However, just before the city was abandoned, some people came who the locals had found to be rather scary. Servants, probably, though who they might be, I couldn't find out. Their protector was overwhelmed by their numbers, however, and is now missing."

"And once he fell, so too did Lyon," I finished grimly.

"I hope he is still alive," Mash spoke up. "If not…no, let's believe in the words of Saint Martha."

"Oh! Another thing I found out! An important French nobleman had visited the city last night, gathering routed soldiers. They said his name was Gilles de Rais," Marie added, startling Jeanne.

"Gilles!" She said in a mixture of shock and relief, and perhaps a hint of bitterness over being unable to visit him. If memory served me right, Gilles de Rais was a close follower of Jeanne d'Arc during the battles she fought in, and her death had afflicted much grief and pain that shattered his sanity.

"He's attempting to attack Lyon and re-take the city," Marie continued explaining. I breathed deeply before taking a long time exhaling through my nose.

"Well, this complicates things," I stated bluntly. Marie tilted her head, confused.

"Why is that? Gilles de Rais is an admirer of Jeanne, right? If Jeanne asks, surely he would lend a helping hand?" Jeanne sighed again.

"That's precisely the reason why," the saint in question responded despondently. "He knows that I've become the Dragon Witch. He wouldn't accept me like that."

"And even if that wasn't the case, what good would it be to send mere soldiers and knights against these apparent monsters?" Ritsuka chimed in. I grimace as I imagine the aftermath of such an effort. Even a victory would be little better than a defeat in regards to the cost of life. Marie looked particularly bothered by that idea, no doubt partly due to the fact that in several centuries from now, she would be ruling over these lands and the people who lived there.

"Yes, I don't think normal soldiers can handle all those monsters in Lyon," she agreed. Mordred snorts, resting the blade of Clarent against her shoulder guard.

"Bah, I say we go over there and kick some monster ass," she said in her brash tone, a cocky expression gracing her features.

"Yeah, we can do this!" Ritsuka said rather excitedly, pumping a fist into the air. Marie almost swooned, clasping two hands against her cheek as she gazed at the Japanese Magus.

"Yes, that's what it means to be a boy! Here's your reward~" The Rider said with a giggle before planting a chaste kiss on Ritsuka's right cheek. Mash's eyes widened, as did my own, as the Demi-Servant stammered at the action.

"W-what?" Mash asked, her cheeks flushed with color as her purple eyes darted between the innocently-smiling Rider and my fellow Master as the former took a few steps backward. I throttled the snigger that was building in my throat as I examined my friend.

If Mash's cheeks were colored, Ritsuka's could only be described as burning. His blue eyes stared blankly at the giggling Rider. His mouth hung half-open. Oh, my. I do believe that, if I am reading this correctly, Ritsuka just had his first kiss. If this was his reaction to chaste one to the cheek, I wonder what it would have been if it had been a passionate one on the lips? Possibly passing out?

"Well? Was it good?" Marie asked, perhaps a bit shyly. To my undying amusement, Ritsuka merely stared at Marie with wide eyes, his mouth opening and closing like a fish gasping for air as he tried to speak.

"Master, hang in there," Mash urged, before whispering in mild frustration. "Jeez!" A deep, throaty laugh caused me to look over my shoulder at a beaming Amadeus who was shaking his head in mock despair at his companion's actions.

"She finally went and did it, huh?" The composer sighed good-naturedly. "Sorry, just ignore that, Ritsuka. Marie has a bad habit of kissing everything. It caused chaos in the palace. There were actually factions formed of people she'd kissed and people she hadn't," Amadeus explained to us, or rather, everyone but Ritsuka, who was still in a daze.

"Master, come on." Mash was almost whining now, trying to figure out what she should do. "Snap out of it. Snap out of it!" She said, finally deciding on shaking her Master. Meanwhile, Marie just watched the show with a confused expression.

"Huh? You guys don't do kisses?" She asked, in a surprisingly naive tone. "Maybe like when your heart feels like someone's squeezing it…you do it too, right Jeanne?" She asked the Ruler. Once again the blonde's face turned a bright pink, stammering out her reply.

"I-I do not! I do not!" She protested. Behind me, Mordred faked a cough, saying something under her breath that sounded like bullshit. I looked over my shoulder, raising an eyebrow at my Servant. Mordred merely shrugged.

"I'll tell you when we finish this mess," Mordred said quietly, and I nodded before looking back at the peanut gallery.

"Okay, everyone, please stop talking," I said in a polite but firm tone, and thankfully, the three Servants and Demi-Servant I was referring to fell silent. "Thank you. Now, as fascinating as what appears to have been Ritsuka's first kiss is, I think this isn't the time to discuss hormones," I said bluntly, causing both of the French Servants to blush in embarrassment. I glance at Ritsuka and sigh, walking over and gently pushing Mash out of the way.

"Let me try," I said calmly, a nod being my answer before I looked my fellow Master in the eye. "Sorry about this," I said before I slapped his right cheek. Everyone flinched at the sudden sound of my palm making contact with his left cheek, and Ritsuka stumbled backwards, shaking his head as he pressed his hands against the red mark now forming.

"Ow! Was that really necessary?" He asked as he rubbed his cheek. I take off my cap and run a hand through my messy hair as I shrugged.

"It was the best thing I could do to snap you out of your Snow White impression," I admitted bluntly. "At least it worked." Ritsuka stared flatly at me, unamused. Thankfully though, it appeared that he wasn't about to hold a grudge against me or something.

"Now that we are all back in the present, I suggest we start making our way to Lyon." Jeanne nodded in agreement, slamming the butt of her weapon into the earth resolutely.

"Agreed. Although the thought of having to see a ruined town again is heartbreaking, we must stop the Dragon Witch."

The next four or five hours were rather boring. Our party hadn't encountered anyone or thing, good or bad. Aside from a few brief stops to catch our breath, and a quick lunch, we made no stops. Before we knew it, we were only a few hundred feet away from the destroyed city of Lyon. I sighed once again, something I have been doing with unpleasant frequency since we first arrived in this singularity.

The walls were scorched, and the charred remains of the garrison litter the battlements and the ground. At least this time, their deaths appeared to have not been in vain to save the citizens of the settlement. However, just like in La Charité, the air was deathly silent, filled only with the smell of smoke, fire, and death. Jeanne was the first one to speak.

"…There's no one here," she observed in an extremely quiet voice." Mash activated our commlink.

"Doctor, any sign of life-" The Demi-Servant began to say, only for static to reply. "Doctor?" Mash tried again, only to again get white noise. She looked at Ritsuka and I apologetically. "I'm sorry. Reception's not very good here."

"Looks like we'll have to do this the old-fashioned way," I replied, and the Shielder nodded before speaking again.

"Let's split up and search for this 'Dragon Slayer' that Martha said we should find."

"Right," Marie replied. "Let's see which of us finds that person first. Amadeus and I will take the western half of the city." I turn towards Sasaki.

"Sasaki, would you mind going along with them?" The swordsman merely bowed his head slightly in acknowledgement. I turn towards my fellow Master. "Rits, take Mash, Medea, and Chulainn, and check the center of the city. Jeanne, Mordred, and I will take care of the eastern section. If anyone encounters either the Servant we are searching for, survivors, or Servants, send something into the air," I said. No on disagrees with the suggestion, and soon we split up into our three small groups.

The three of us walked through the city in silence, passing a number of mauled bodies along the way. Even though I had expected to see nothing pleasant, nor any survivors, the sight of such wanton destruction still hurts. Mordred had a small frown on her lips, showing her displeasure. However, the one who was affected the most had to be the Maid of Orléans

"This was once a beautiful town," Jeanne finally said, stopping before a partially collapsed house. Indeed, there appeared to have been a rather charming appearance when it was intact. I noticed how the Ruler's gauntlets were shaking slightly as she gripped her standard. "Why would that Dragon Witch do this?"

"That's not you, Jeanne," I replied, resting a comforting hand on her shoulder. She appeared to have relaxed slightly as she exhaled. Mordred remained silent, undoubtedly preferring for me to do this and let her keep an eye out for any potential threats.

"That's be nice but…" Jeanne paused, while I gripped the hilt of my sword. "Did I just hear a voice?" She asked, readying her weapon as Mordred's helmet assembled itself around her face.

"I don't think that is a survivor calling out for help," I said, pointing my other hand skywards, preparing to fire a Gandr to signal the others. Sure enough, the half-slashed body of a local shambles into view, along with a dozen or so more. The Living Undead, once again. I fire the Gandr into the air and draw my sword.

Just peachy. I turn my head slightly as I hear someone grinding their teeth together, and am actually startled to see the trembling form of Jeanne. She wasn't scared, however, though certainly horrified.

"Turning the townsfolk into monsters…" Jeanne seethed, angered. "This is beyond heresy!"

"I'd rather be facing those damn golems again," Mordred commented, readying Clarent. Both Servants are ready to break the curse animating the bodies before us, and I was prepared to join them.

"Be at peace," I murmured gently as I readied my sword, standing between Jeanne and Mordred as the monstrosities before us charged forward.

Chapter Text

I grunted as I pushed my boot firmly against the undead's torso as I yank out my sword, pushing the body away from me at the same time. Hitting the ground, it doesn't get back up again. Next to me, Jeanne was dueling with a spear-wielding corpse, while two more zombies tried to circle around her, perhaps with the intent of attacking all at once in an attempt to overwhelm her guard.

The Ruler refused to cooperate with them, however. In a blur of motion that I barely managed to make out, I saw Jeanne crouch down before swinging her weapon in a circle, knocking all three foes onto their backs. Leaping back up, she rapidly lashed out thrice, impaling each zombie with grace and efficiency.

On the other side, Mordred was slashing and hacking her way through a crowd of zombies, lashing out with not only Clarent but with her armored hands and feet, fighting more like a brawler than a true knight, as some might comment. In the end, if it works it works, and who am I to disagree with a Servant?

I cursed under my breath as I see more figures approaching us. "Second wave incoming," I hollered at the two Servants fighting beside me. Gripping my sword in one hand, I point the other towards the leading bodies, making a finger gun gesture before I started firing several rounds of Gandr.

Unlike the last time I used them, in Singularity F, the bolts of energy were stronger this time, once again thanks to the strict teachings Medea had provided over the past few days. Each Gandr curse strikes true, and several bodies fall. Unable to feel terror or mourn the loss of their comrades, the undead continued charging. I counted at least two dozen.

At this rate, we're running the risk of being overrun by sheer numbers. It had been at least several minutes since I fired my signal, but no one had arrived yet. I glance for the briefest of moments upwards, and curse again at seeing nothing. What I do see, however, to the side and just ahead of the next wave of enemies, was a scorched water barrel. I closed my eyes and extend my free arm towards the wooden object.

I grinned grimly, eyes still closed, as I sensed, for a lack of better words, the presence of water in the damaged barrel. It wasn't a huge amount, but it was still enough. I began my chant as I imagined several dozen spikes of ice, around three inches long. I arch the fingers of my free hand, as if I was preparing to lash out at someone with my fingernails.

I waited a few more seconds before sweeping my hand before me, opening my eyes in time to see the dozen or so ice bullets to slam into the side of the second wave. I pant slightly, drained a little. I could probably do something like that again once or twice more before I risked exhaustion. Thankfully, it appears to have done the trick, for only slightly less than a dozen undead bodies remained charging. The others had been struck down, shards of ice sticking out of their unprotected necks.

I look skyward once again, and frown at what I see. A small ball of magical energy was starting to disperse over the center of the city. Damn it. It looks like Ritsuka and his Servants had run into their own trouble. "Looks like we'll have to hold out a while longer. Ritsuka and Mash have company of their own, it seems," I said to Mordred and Jeanne. The two female Servants said nothing as the remnants of the second wave of undead crashed into them.

Most of the reanimated corpses focused on the two Servants protecting me, but two break off to engage me. These two must have been part of the local garrison who fell protecting the city, for they were wearing chainmail and bore helmets, both of which were, much like everything else in this blasted place, scorched from fire. One was armed with a spear, the other a broken sword.

I sidestep the spear thrust that had been aimed at my torso, and swing my sword down, aiming for just below the socket that connected the metal tip to the wooden shaft. The wood, already damaged from the fight that had killed its owner, splintered in two, leaving the zombie with an oversized staff. Incapable of emotions such as shock or anger, the zombie swung its weapon like a club, forcing me to duck underneath the strike.

At that moment, its comrade tried to thrust the jagged metal blade into my back, forcing me to roll to the side again, and I end up just behind the sword-wielder. I spin around on the ground, and my sword sliced through the unprotected legs of the zombie, sending it sprawling onto the ground, out of the fight for a few moments.

I push myself up and adopt a fencing stance, one hand gripping the hilt as I angled the tip upwards ever so slightly while the other pressed against my back as I bent my knees slightly, intent on letting my opponent make the first move. Mindlessly, it does so, charging forward as if to slam the splintered end of wood into my chest. I again sidestep the thrust, and lash out with my sword, cleaving the head off of the zombie with a grunt. The body collapsed to the ground as whatever was powering it dissipated into the air, my focus on the disabled undead trying to crawl towards me, using its broken sword to pull itself forward.

I closed the distance between us and reversed my grip on my sword, aiming the tip just above the center of its neck. "Be at peace," I said apologetically as I thrusted downwards, severing the spinal column and defeating the zombie. Next to me, two halves of a zombie were sent skidding down the street as Mordred called out towards me.

"You doing ok over there, Master?"

"Other than wishing we had to deal with skeletons again for once, just peachy," I retorted before I groaned, looking ahead of us.

A third group, larger than either of the two previous clusters of bodies, was advancing towards us. It looked like it had to have been at least forty to fifty, possibly more. To make matters worse, despite my words, I was starting to feel a bit exhausted. I wasn't the only one fed up with this situation, either, s it turned out.

"Enough! I'm going to freakin kill you!" Mordred snarled, emerald eyes narrowed as she dismisses her helmet. I step behind the Knight of Rebellion as she gripped her sword, the section just above the handguard shifting tis form slightly as wild red energy engulfed Clarent's blade.

"CLARENT BLOOD ARTHUR!" Mordred roared swinging her sword towards the large mass of zombies. I raise one of my hands, the one holding my sword, using my forearm to protect my eyesight against the blinding light. The other was gripping the bill of my cap, keeping it firmly on my head as a gust of wind buffeted us.

Looking up once both the wind and light died down, I began to sheath my sword while letting out a low whistle of amazement. The raw energy from Mordred's Noble Phantasm had incinerated the fifty or so undead. The ground before the blonde knight looked like a drunken man had driven a bulldozer over it, the cobblestones broken and scattered.

"Good job, Mordred," I said earnestly, smiling softly at the pleased expression on her face at the compliment. I looked around, seeing if I could spy any movement in the ruins of the city, relaxing only slightly upon detecting none.

"Looks like all enemies have been eliminated," Jeanne said softly, the unpleasurable task accomplished. "May their souls rest in peace- "

"Peace?" The three of us froze as a masculine voice echoed around us. "Do they desire peace? That is such a foolish thing to say. They have no peace in their souls," the voice said mockingly.

"Show yourself!" I demanded. As expected, the newcomer didn't do so, but instead a low, dark chuckle filled the street, tinged with hints of cruelty and madness.

"There is certainly none residing in us Servants." My body froze as I feel someone malevolent stand before me. Whoever it was, they were behind me.

"Master!" Mordred snarled, lashing out with her right foot and sweeping me off of my feet and causing me to fall flat on my ass. It was just in time too, as five long, skeletal fingers coated in blood pulled back. More disturbing than the exposed muscles and bone, however, was  "You know, I am really sick and tired of Assassin Servants doing that crap when I am around," Mordred hissed, and I could imagine her green eyes burning as my attacker leapt backwards, out of range of the weapons of either Servant.

"Who are you?" Jeanne demanded, leveling the tip of her flagpole at the apparent Assassin. It was a man dressed in a greyish-black outfit that reminded me of drawings of nobility from the 18th century. It was the only thing elegant about the Servant.

His face was half covered in bandages, a gaping hole where his right eye should be. His skin was a sullen yellow, and greasy black hair hung lank over his forehead. He was hunched slightly, hinting at further possible deformities with his body. His one good eye shown with hints of madness and cruelty, though whether he was another enhanced Servant or not, I couldn't tell.

"Who am I?"  The man released a laugh that lacked warmth or humor. "People call me…the Phantom of the Opera, an Assassin. By order of my Master, the Dragon Witch, this town is under my absolute control. Now, this is the middle of Hell, where the dead live," Phantom said, before crouching slightly, ready to launch another attack, no doubt. "So, what are you going to do?" He asked tauntingly.

"We'll crush you," I said behind Jeanne and Mordred. Needing no further hints as to wait for instructions, Mordred charged forward, swinging Clarent. Her action apparently caught the creepy Assassin off-guard, for he raised his left hand to block it. I flinch at the sound of metal scraping against metal as the fused knife blades pushed against Clarent. The force of the blow sent small fragments of rock tumbling to either side of the two dueling Servants.

"Ruler!" Mordred barked over her shoulder, not looking away from Phantom as she tried to push Clarent further. Jeanne stiffened at Mordred's nickname for her. "Protect Jacob! This one is mine!" The knight of Rebellion snarled savagely. Jeanne nodded and positioned herself before me, adopting a guard stance with her weapon.

Seeing that her current effort wasn't gaining her any advantage, Mordred suddenly stopped trying to force her sword, causing the Assassin to stumble slightly forward, off-balance from pushing against something no longer resisting him. Mordred then slammed her knee into his gut, bending the Servant other slightly while also sending him skidding backwards.

Up close, Phantom would have the advantage with his finger-blades, while Clarent's longer blade would hamper any attacks or blocks in such limited space. Give Mordred some distance from Phantom, however, and she can use the longer reach of her weapon to keep the Assassin at bay. At least, in theory. Given that this is a fight between Servants and not regular humans, I've come to the realization that anything can happen.

Mordred unleashes a flurry of blows, Clarent becoming a blur in my vision as sparks leapt up into the air. In front of me, Jeanne watched the fight, her posture screaming of her tension at being forced to watch her fellow Servant fight and being unable to assist the smaller blonde. I hold my hand that bore my Command Seals that binds Mordred and I together, ready to assist her in the best way I could, should she need it.

Thankfully, this fight appeared to be far more balanced compared to fighting Berserker Rider. I suppose that Jeanne didn't give Phantom the Madness Enhancement trait like she did with her other Assassin. Could she only do it a limited number of times, or did she just choose to only have a select few? I shook my head slightly, refocusing on the fight. Those questions can be asked when the others arrive and Phantom either driven off or dead. The two Servants were moving so rapidly that I could barely track unless I strained my eyes to focus.

At that moment, I watched as Mordred lunged forward, trying to bury as much of Clarent as she could into her opponent's gut. The Servant merely grinned manically and twisted to the side while lashing out at the same time with those accursed finger blades. I curse under my breath as I realize just a half-second before impact that Mordred wouldn't be able to dodge the attack.

I bit my lip so hard I almost drew blood as I heard Mordred cry out as three claws raked against her right cheek, sending thin strings of crimson blood flying as Mordred leapt backwards. Her cry was filled with far less pain compared to the one I had heard whilst dreaming last night, filled more with fury.

She swung Clarent, trying to cleave the Assassin at the waist. However, the agile Servant twirled away, though not without sacrifice. There is a rather satisfying tearing sound as Mordred's blade catches the lower half of his cloak and shears it off. Phantom leapt back even further, looking over his shoulder and grimacing for a brief moment before his gaze snapped back towards my Servant, anger blazing in his eye.

"That's enough of a first act. Now, let's start the finale," he said sinisterly as I felt a wave of ominous energy surge off of them. I realize that he must be preparing to unleash his Noble Phantasm at Mordred. Considering he said that he was of the Assassin class, that meant there was a good chance of it either killing or severally injuring my first Servant. Knowing not what it could do, I kick my brain into overdrive before I suddenly bend down a pick up a rock slightly smaller than my palm, tossing it up slightly to test its weight. Finding it to be satisfactory for what I had in mind, I shook Jeanne by the shoulder, forcing the now-concerned Ruler to look at me.

"I have an idea, but no time to explain. When I give the signal, I want you to charge and impale that fiend," I said hurriedly, not even waiting for a sign of confirmation from my temporary Servant as I wind up my arm, doing my best to aim the rock my hand held at the enemy Servant's head.

I hurled the rock with a loud grunt, hoping that my gambit would work. My aim was true, thankfully, and the small rock slammed into his right temple. As a Servant, the rock didn't harm him, but it did do two things that were still useful. The first, and most important, one was that it broke his concentration, therefore disrupting his preparations to unleash whatever his Noble Phantasm was. The second was that it appeared to have dazed the Assassin. I turn to Jeanne, nodding my head for her to attack. The Ruler nodded back, her turquoise eyes resolute and shining with determination, before she began to charge forward.

"For Lyon!" Jeanne cried out as she leapt through the air, her spear tip aimed towards the breast of the Assassin. Phantom shook his head, regaining his full awareness just seconds too late. With a sickening squelching sound, the steel blade tore through the unprotective coat and shirt he wore, thrusted through his left side of his chest, and presumably, his heart. Jeanne doesn't stop pushing the weapon until the now-bloodied blade bursts out of his back, scraping loudly against the battered cobblestones behind him.

To my shock, and grudging respect, the blood-thirsty Servant lashed out at, refusing to scream as he tried to claw apart Jeanne's face. The Ruler leaned back ever so slightly, allowing the blades to miss her by mere inches. He neglected his previous attention towards my Saber, however, and she didn't waste a moment to press her advantage.

Phantom stiffened as Mordred thrusted Clarent through his right side, the blade popping out of his other side. With a savage grunt, she pulled Clarent upwards, tearing asunder his insides and providing a second fatal blow. This time, the Assassin didn't lash out, possibly realizing the pointlessness of it, or maybe some unfathomable reason we would never know had crossed his crazed mind. Instead, he clutched feebly at Jeanne's weapon as blood started to pool around his feet.

"Ugh," Phantom groaned, slumping down to the ground. Jeanne and Mordred withdrew their weapons, the latter giving a light kick that sent the dying Assassin sprawling onto his back. The gesture only caused the Servant to scoff before he continued speaking. "Still, my mission is accomplished. Though I shall never be rewarded, never."

"Mission? What mission?" I demanded. He spoke of how Jeanne Alter had tasked him with 'ruling' over Lyon, but was that what he was talking about? Or had there been something else that he had sought (and apparently, succeeded) to accomplish.

"This is where my song ends, but the real Hell starts now," he said mockingly, refusing to reply, either out of spite, or still gripped by madness unlike Saint Martha in her final moments. He raised his head, grimacing as he gazed directly at a stern Jeanne. "Rejoice, oh Holy Maiden! Your evil has grown even more than you!" Jeanne scowled at him.

"Be silent. It must be hard to even talk now." Sure enough, Phantom's extremities were starting to fade slowly. Phantom cackled, however, shaking his head. I hear footsteps behind me and look over my shoulder, sighing in relief as the rest of our group arrives. It appears that only my Servants and I had encountered an opposing Servant, then. I wave for them to come closer, but also gesture to be quiet before looking back at Phantom.

"These are not words. This is a song. To lament your future, and to mourn it," he said, couching up a wad of blood, some of it dribbling down his chin. "I know who you came to seek. Forget about the Dragon Slayer, and run to the ends of the earth. If lady luck is on your side, you might just have a chance to escape what is to come," he said, before hacking even more blood from his injuries.

What is to come…? Was he referring to the creature Martha had warned us Jeanne Alter had summoned? "What do you mean?" I demanded. The Servant opened his mouth to reply, his single eye glinting in cruel delight.

His words were drowned out, however, as an earth-shaking roar reverberated across the desolate city. Though I can't see it, at least not yet, I feel my courage slip away ever so slightly, something that seems to be affecting everyone else in some way. Even Mordred looked briefly skyward with a concerned expression present. The only one to be unaffected by this was Phantom, who laughed, his arms and legs gone and only his head and torso left.

"Here it comes! The Dragon is here. The Devil is here. An Evil Dragon unlike any of you have seen before!" Amadeus scowls at the Assassin, fed up with his rantings.

"You're a stubborn one, aren't you? The coda has ended, now back to hell with you," he said before flicking his hand, sending a wave of energy that dissolved the last remnants of the enemy Servant, silencing him for good.

"Thanks for that," I said softly, opting to sheath my sword. If Phantom hadn't been lying, then normal swords would do no good here. Mash was still looking skywards, biting her lower lip, clearly worried.

"An evil dragon?" She asked, repeating the words of the departed Assassin. At that moment, my commlink started to go off as Chaldea tried hailing us. I activated it.

"Finally, I got through to you!" Doctor Roman said, rather frantically. His voice was filled with alarm. "Everyone, I recommend that you evacuate immediately! This reading is way beyond a Servant…it's indicating an 'ultra-size lifeform'. It's approaching with incredible speed!" As if to emphasis Roman's report, I could hear the sound of wings beating in the air. Unlike the sounds a wyvern would make, it was slower, deeper, more like distant thunder that was drawing closer.

"Beyond a Servant?" Mash said in awe and horror. "Can such a lifeform even exist in this world?"

"Well, I highly doubt it's the ice cream man that's visiting us, so I would have to say yes!" I said, eyes narrowed as I addressed the doctor. "Roman, anything else?"

"Yes. I am also detecting three Servants heading this way!" Crap.

"It must be the Dragon Witch leading them," Marie said nervously. "This is quite the problem." Mordred snorted at that.

"That's an understatement if ever I heard one," the Knight of Rebellion retorted. Amadeus shot her an irritated look before looking back at Ritsuka and I.

"The orchestra is done. Let's get out of here," he urged. "I know we just wasted our effort, but that's life." Ritsuka and I glanced at each other, conflicted on what to do.

"If Doctor Roman's readings really are beyond a Servant, then we must find our 'Dragon Slayer…" I began to say to my fellow Master.

"What if they are dead though? I mean, the three of you just defeated an enemy Servant. What's to say that Assassin finished them off before attacking?" Ritsuka added, just as conflicted as I am.

"Master, orders?" Mordred barked, still bleeding slightly from the three shallow cuts she received from Phantom. I prayed that they hadn't been poisoned somehow, though considering how Mordred didn't appear to be acting any differently than she normally does, it seems unlikely. I blinked and looked at our Servants.

"We can't run, not if we want to fix things. If we run here, things will get worse. Let's find our knight and get out of here!" I decided, and after a brief moment, Ritsuka bowed his head slightly in agreement. Marie turned to her friend, chewing on her lower lip softly in anxiety before finally speaking to the famous musical composer.

"Amadeus, let's prepare for battle. Will you fight with me?" She asked softly. Amadeus shot her a flat yet amused look.

"Didn't you just order me to fight?" He said, though not appearing bothered by that at all. "You just need to stand proudly, and smile as always. Don't worry yourself over me," Amadeus added, waving his hand dismissively at her look of concern. "IF this gets bad, I'll run away on my own!" He said jokingly. If we fail, we won't have to worry about running ever again. Go big or go broke.

"Yes, that's the Amadeus I know," Marie responded with a soft smile. "It's okay, we just have to try sometime. I won't die. Not here, at least," the Rider declared, and I could feel her royal heritage with those words.

"That's the spirit," I said softly as the sound of beating wings grew louder and louder.

"Doctor!" Mash asked sharply. "Are you detecting any other Servants?'

"Searching now," Roman said resignedly, accepting our choice even though he greatly disagreed with it, and a few precious seconds slipped by. "Right, there's a faint reading from the castle up ahead of where you are. Good luck and stay alive."

"Understood. You heard the doc, let's move it!" Without a second to waste, we began sprinting towards the fortified citadel at the center of the city, while overhead the sounds of wings and roaring grew louder and louder. It was a race against time, and there would be no runner-up position if we failed.