chpater 14

Chapter Text

I grunted slightly as I opened my eyes, squinting against the ray of light that was making its way though the gap of my tent's entrance, heralding the arrival of morning. I stretch my upper back slightly, hearing a soft clicking sound as I popped my somewhat sore joints. Nero must have spoiled me with that bed she had lent me, especially compared to sleeping on the ground with only a thick blanket to serve as a mattress.

On the bright side, it had been another night that I hadn't had to witness yet another gut-wrenching moment of Mordred's past, though it made me wonder if I was going to have another one? I shake my head slightly, dismissing the irrelevant thought. I had no control over that kind of stuff, so it would be counterproductive to focus too much on that matter.

Now fully awake, I could hear the faint sounds of chatter and clattering, as the Roman soldiers of the camp proceed with their various morning routines. Thankfully, we were nowhere close to the center of the camp, where Nero was and also undoubtedly the loudest area to be in right now. However, I heard the sounds of grunting, and something whistling through the air, sounding to be about a few hundred feet away from my tent.

My curiosity piqued, I poked my head out of the shade of my tent and looked first towards the right, and then the left, seeing nothing. Stepping out of my tent, I looked behind me, and saw the source of the noise.

Mordred was practicing her swordsmanship, striking and parrying empty air in lieu of a partner. I couldn't tell what her expression was, her horned helmet covering her visage, but I had a few ideas why she was doing this.

The first was that she was just doing something. I suspected that perhaps in life Mordred might have suffered from ADHD, seeing as how she struggled to sit down and keep still or quiet unless something big was bothering her, or a few other rare situations. Another reason could be that she was working off her embarrassment at the hands of Boudica at dinner last night. If that was the case, at least she had come up with a constructive way to work out her frustration.

I watched quietly as my first Servant continued her exercises. No doubt an old habit from her days as a living knight, I decided as I took in her figure. Then I felt that someone was standing beside me, though who it was, I couldn't tell. Without looking over my shoulder, I spoke out softly, so as to not distract Mordred. "Good morning."

"Good morning to you too, Jacob," Boudica said, and I turned to look at the smiling Servant. "Did you sleep well?" She asked, a hint of concern in her voice. She really did feel like a mother hen.

"Mhm," I responded lazily, looking back at the Knight of Rebellion. A quiet moment of silence followed my response, as Boudica moved a bit closer, now standing beside me as her own gaze settled on the armored blonde.

"I fear I may have embarrassed your knight last night," Boudica suddenly said. I hummed in agreement, looking at the Knight of Rebellion as she continued her sword drills. "Though I did mean every word I said to her," she added quickly.

"Yeah. Well, as you may have guessed, Mordred didn't exactly have what you could call a happy childhood," I responded slowly, taking care to not reveal too much of Mordred's personal details. This time it was Boudica who hummed her agreement.

"It's a pity that I can't really adopt her, seeing as how I feel that there's probably only a week or two at most left before you guys manage to fix everything. Still, she doesn't seem miserable, at least," Boudica said. I looked at her, quirking an eyebrow at that.

"Your concern….is it because she comes from the same country as you?" I asked.

"In a way. I view all Heroic Spirits of Britannia who came after my time as my children," Boudica responded with ease. "I guess you can say that I especially have a special fondness for Arthur and his knights in particular. Yes, even the infamous treacherous knight, Mordred. Though, I have a feeling that there is more to that now, even if you won't tell me," Boudica added, without accusation.

"Yeah, you're right. It's not my past to share," I agreed, looking back at the very person we were discussing. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Boudica give me another affectionate smile.

"You really do care for her, don't you?"

"Well, yeah. I mean, I care for all of my Servants," I said, confused at her question. I mean, I know that a lot of Masters in the past tend to view Servants as little more than tools, and disposable ones in the end, too. It was just another generalization that kept me away from wanting to do business in the future with the various old Magus families. Boudica laughed softly, and I turn to her once more.

"There's no question about that," Boudica said with an impish hint in her tone. "Something I am pleased to see, too, but that's not what I am talking about." My brow furrows, and I stare intently at the Rider.

"It's too early for this," I said with a soft sigh, shaking my head.

"I can tell you have feelings for her."

"….Come again?" I finally said, taken aback by the brusque manner in which she had delivered those words.

"Oh, interesting. Humor me, please, young one, and tell me what you think of Mordred," Boudica asked. Unable to figure out what she is getting at, I took a few minutes to reflect on her request. Bizarre as she is being, maybe she's has something worth knowing?

"Mordred is a proud and mighty knight. Sure, she has a bit of a temper, tends to boast a lot, and is always eager to get into a fight. But despite her title, she has never once tried to do anything subversive, and has been extremely loyal. I told her when we first met that I would put my trust blindly in her, and I haven't regretted that choice ever since. I'm proud to have her as my friend and partner," I said in all earnest.

"You feel she is incredible?"

"In a way, yes."

"Dependable?"

"Yes, like I thought I implied," I said, starting to get impatient with the Rider general.

"Pretty?"

"Ye—, okay, enough word games," I growled softly, looking away quickly. I am not sure who I am growling out: the inquisitive redhead, or myself? Wait…is Boudica trying to imply something along the romantic line?

Ridiculous! I mean, sure, I do find Mordred attractive, in her own way. I had realized that a few days before the Rayshift to this time, after putting a long amount of thought into it. But, finding someone attractive doesn't mean that you have romantic feelings for them….right?

To my discomfort, I can't deny that there is the slightest of possibilities that this may actually be the case. I shake my head slightly, grinding my teeth slightly.

Okay, well, even if I really do have feelings for Mordred, romantic feelings, I highly doubt that it would lead to anything. I mean, first of all, is this really the time to be dealing with anything related to hormones? Secondly, it could destroy all of my efforts to build a close friendship with the shorter blonde. She doesn't strike me as the one to care for the possibility of romance, and even if she did, I highly doubt that she would consider me.

But…what if she…?

No, stop it, Jacob! Don't fall down this damn rabbit hole any further. Thankfully, the instigator of this brief mental crisis had remained silent, watching me with a patient expression when I look back at her, giving her a stern look.

"Boudica, I ask that you stop this foolishness, please," I said in a polite, but firm, manner.

"Alright. I can see that maybe I was out of line," Boudica responded, before looking back at Mordred. "Forget I said anything. On another note, do you think I should offer your Servant an apology for last night?" She said, to my relief at the change in topics. Despite my discomfort, I will not deny that my gut is telling me that the former queen had meant no ill. So long as she doesn't bring this up, I see no reason to be rude to her. I hum to myself for a few minutes, mulling over Boudica's request before finally speaking softly, my tone warmer.

"You can try talking to her after we finish this meeting you mentioned," I suggested. Boudica perked up at the idea. "I can't promise Mordred will be willing to talk, but I can get her to wait and hopefully, hear you out."

"That is enough for me. It looks like Mordred has noticed our presence," Boudica said, and sure enough, the short blonde was looking at us. "I'll go get breakfast ready, before getting ready for the meeting. Help yourselves to however much you want," she said cheerfully before turning away. I shook my head slightly.

While I could imagine far worse ways that could have started off my morning, this was certainly a confusing one. I walked over to my Servant, smiling slightly.

"Morning, Jacob," Mordred greeted me, her helmet retracted and her ponytail falling down. She planted Clarent into the ground and leaned slightly against it with one arm, the other on her hip.

"Good morning, Mordred," I returned the greeting. "Looks like you had a good warm-up for today

"Eh. I was just bored and figured this would be a good way to do so," Mordred responded in her flippant manner, rolling her eyes slightly as she did so. "So, what did that annoying Rider want?" She said, still on edge in anything regarding the Briton, as I had suspected. I shrugged half-heartedly.

"To be honest, I have no idea. You do realize though that she meant no ill, ri—" Mordred stopped me mid-sentence with a raised hand and a stern gaze.

"I'm not in the mood to talk about last night," Mordred said bluntly. I nod, signaling my understanding, and the blonde relaxes slightly.

"Fair enough. I do know a thing or two you are in the mood for, though," I said teasingly, and the Knight of Rebellion cocked an eyebrow as she straightened up while dismissing Clarent.

"Oh? And what could those be?"

"Well, within the hour, breakfast. In a couple more, a battle to be won."

We were gathered in Nero's opulent tent. Present was the Emperor of Roses herself, Boudica, Spartacus, Ritsuka, Mash, our Servants and myself, and about a half dozen or so Roman officers.

"What are our numbers?" I asked rather gruffly, looking at the map.

"In addition to Nero's legion, we have the Legio V Alaudae, the Legio VI Ferrata, and the Legio XIV Gemina. However, the last two are at half-strength, and remaining one is down a quarter of it's fighting potential." I vaguely recognized the names of the legions. The first two had fought under Caesar, while the latter had been one of the legions responsible for crushing Boudica's revolt. Talk about salt in the wound, right there.

"What they lack in numbers, however, they make up for in their determination to resist these oppressors!" Spartacus roared. While we didn't really respond to his words, he did have a point. Countless times in history have seen an understrength army overcome long odds.

"What about the enemy?" I asked.

"Originally, the commander had five legions. From our scouts, it seems that two of them had been withdrawn in the past few weeks, perhaps to serve as the expedition force that Nero had driven back from Rome," Boudica said, gesturing at the map.

So, we had about the same number of soldiers. Unfortunately, we can't afford to wait for further reinforcements. Seeing as how it took less than twenty-four hours for word to reach the border of Ritsuka and I, I had little doubt that the enemy commander might also know from any spies amongst the ranks. If he had requested reinforcements from his co-conspirators, then we were on a race against time.

"We need to sever the head of the snake," Gilles spoke up, the former French marshal staring critically at the map. An obvious answer, but still one worth voicing. Knowing our current track record, this is going to most definitely be a case of it being easier said than done.

"I doubt no one will disagree with this, but what is the best way to go about this?" A grizzled-looking officer responded, holding a helmet with a transverse horsehair crest dyed a rich blue.

"Agreed. We lack superior numbers, just as they seem to. A frontal assault, perhaps?" Another officer suggested, though he didn't sound too serious about the very tactic he had just put forth. Nero shook her head firmly.

"No. I refuse to sacrifice the entire army just to kill one of these pretenders," Nero countered.

"What if we try to draw them out onto two sides?" Ritsuka interjected besides me. No one responded at first, each of the participants, myself included, weighing the pros and cons of the idea.

On one hand, it could weaken the enemy's defenses but forcing them to defend multiple directions. However, it would mean that we would have to spread out the soldiers Nero and her subordinates had in order to make good on any breakthroughs in the enemy lines. Granted, though, that this could be evened out by the presence of so many Servants on our side.

"I concur with my comrade," I finally said, nodding slightly in Ritsuka's direction. "Furthermore, I suggest that we focus primarily on breaking into the enemy camp with a small, elite force while the rest pin down the main line of resistance. As Gilles said, we kill the enemy general, his men will undoubtedly break ranks and retreat, Your Majesty," I added, finding my support for Ritsuka's idea growing stronger the more I think on it.

"Spartacus and I will take the Sixth and Fourteenth legions, and will focus our assault on the right flank," Boudica jumped in, signaling her own agreement with the plan, while beside her the massive Berserker threw back his head to release a roar of laughter before ranting about how we would crush the oppressors and whatnot.

And I had thought that Mordred was rather battle-hungry…

"Does anyone have any problems with the plan?" Nero asked, having been swayed it seems, her eyes sweeping across all present, looking somewhat impatient. Seeing and hearing no oppositions from her subordinates, Nero nodded.

"Very good, then. We move out in one hour," Nero said, waving a hand to dismisses us, and then left, as everyone else began to file out. I had a feeling she was going to give her soldiers a pre-battle speech, and thankfully I have an excuse to not stand about and listen to her. I locked eyes with Boudica, giving her a subtle nod. If she wanted to talk to Mordred, now was her chance.

I firmly gripped the pauldron protecting Mordred's right shoulder, keeping her in place as everyone else but Boudica left. She glared at me while Boudica coughed slightly, and Mordred's emerald eyes swung towards the Rider. "Mordred."

"What do you want?" Mordred asked in a mixture of annoyance and impatience, staring at Boudica with a guarded expression.

"While I don't regret my actions last night, or what I said, I would like to apologize for causing you any embarrassment," the Rider said in a calm tone, bowing her head slightly.

"Just…don't do it again, and you owe me," Mordred finally sighed. Suddenly, a smirk came to her lips. "You said you have a chariot, right? That is your mount in combat?" I raised an eyebrow at the blonde, feeling somewhat at ease with the sudden 180 that the Saber just pulled.

"Correct," Boudica said, sounding equally confused as I, whilst Mordred's smirk grew bigger.

"Let me give it a spin after we kick this guy's ass, and we'll be good," Mordred suggested, and a smiling Boudica voiced her consent to the idea. I shivered slightly, the hairs on the back of my neck standing up slightly, as if an invisible entity was warning me of danger. I forced it down, shaking my head and feeling silly.

I mean, how bad could it be to ride in a chariot driven by her?

"Push forward, damn it! Don't let up! For Rome!" Nero cried out, spurring her horse forward while Ritsuka and I, along with our Servants, followed close behind.

The battle had started over an hour ago, and we were only now finally beginning to make serious forward progress. First, Chiron led the Roman archers into firing three devastating volleys even as the rest of our army completed its final preparations. The first volley had essentially wiped out most of the United Empire's missile troops, while the second and third had inflicted slightly less amount of loss

Nero's Legio I Italica had borne the brunt of the enemy's countercharge, which had swiftly devolved into a bloody stalemate for a good fifteen minutes. It was hard for me to drown out the sounds of soldiers shouting and cursing at one another. The horrid cries for help, or pleas to the Roman deities of the wounded, while the dying cried out for their mothers, their fathers…

War truly is hell.

I almost fell to my knees with sheer relief when the center of the enemy line began to buckle, and the ranks of the rearmost soldiers began dissolving as a call to retreat billowed forth. Nero then ordered the advance, and now we were approaching the outskirts of the enemy encampment. A formidable structure, with tall wooden palisades, the front gate hanging open when suddenly, two things happened simultaneously.

The first was a series of explosions of sort as sections of the fort were turned into splinters, while the second was my commlink going off. I had a feeling they were connected somehow, and I was proven right as I activated it, and an alarmed-sounding Roman shouted through our connection.

"New enemy signature inbound! Magical creature, be careful!" Doctor Roman called out over the commlink, just as somewhere between thirty to forty large, humanoid-looking things appeared from the various holes in the encampment's wall. They looked to be made of solid rock, and each had a bestial-shaped head with eyes made of bright rubies. A wave of uncertainty overtook Nero's soldiers at this latest development, while the soldiers of the United Empire began cheering, rallying once more.

"Golems!" I don't know who had shouted out the word, but there was no mistaking the animated statues as golems.

"Hold your ground!" Nero bellowed loudly, waving her sword over her head and forcing her mount to rear up onto its hind legs. "They are merely lifeless puppets! Hold your ground, and fight hard! Archers, form ranks at the rear and focus on the enemy formation! Don't let them form up again!" Her words seemed to have been imbued with a sense of command, of authority. Her charisma, perhaps?

Whatever it was, the end result was still the same. Discipline among the ranks were restored, and in a few seconds the auxiliaries that served as the army's archers released a volley upon the heads of the United Empire soldiers.

"Praetor," Nero called out, and I turned to her. "Can your knights deal with these creatures?" She asked, gesturing at the golems. I answered without missing a beat.

"Leave it to us," I said, turning to my Servants. "Sasaki, Jeanne, Mordred! Take them down!"

"Wow, haven't seen ones that look like those before," Mordred said, tapping her chin as she cocked her head to the side slightly, before another one of her feral sneers appeared. "Let's crush them!" I shake my head, laughing slightly.

"Okay, I'm counting on you, Mordred!"

"Right!" Mordred shot back as her helmet hid her face from view, and she activated her Mana Burst ability, before surging forward like a bullet. I looked away briefly to avoid the dust kicked up by her movement getting into my eyes, and when I turn back to look at her, she was almost in front of the lead golem.

The knight leapt forward, pushing herself into the air with one armored knee extended, slamming it firmly into the head of the golem and shattering it. Not slowing down for even a second, my first Servant clambered up the falling torso of the defeated construct before using it as a ledge from which to jump towards another, Clarent raised in an overhead strike.

With a flash of red and silver, the massive blade cleaved the golem nearly in half. Then she turned into a blur, and a quartet of golems suddenly began falling to pieces as the other Servants joined the fray.

Using her flagstaff, Jeanne blocked the fist of a golem, before Sasaki quite literally disarmed the crude-looking construct with a single, graceful strike. The damaged golem raised it's other hand in an attempt to squash the two, when a beam of magical energy from Medea carved a hole through the torso.

In a matter of minutes, the strong but cumbersome artificial creatures were annihilated by the stronger and more agile Heroic Spirits aiding us, and the threat to Nero's followers was ended as they slammed into the somewhat still-disorganized line of infantry standing between the us and the enemy commander.

"Looks like that was the last of them. That still leaves me with a question, however," Doctor Roman reported as we took the moment to regroup while Nero's loyalists continued their assault against the increasingly-thinning UA lines. "Where they the word of an enemy Servant or mage? Or was it Lev Lainur—?"

"Doctor, this isn't a good time," I interrupted.

"Jacob is right! Look over there! There's a gap we can use to get into the enemy's main camp, and defeat this pretender," Nero added, looking furious at the idea of delaying that encounter any further. A sentiment I could fully understand. Even if the enemy army is crushed, if their commander gets away, they would simply raise more legions somehow and essentially leave us back at square one.

"Gilles, Chulainn, Medea, Marie!" Ritsuka suddenly called out.

"Yes, Ritsuka?" Marie asked sweetly. "Can you guys stay with the army, and make sure that they're not about to be ambushed by more golems or even Servants while the rest of us deal with their commander?"

"Piece of cake!" Chulainn snorted. I turned to my look over at my Servants.

"Jeanne, can you and Sasaki also stay back?"

"Leave it to us," Jeanne said resolutely, using my own earlier words against me, and therefore earning a lopsided grin. I shook my head in amusement, before turning to the others.

"Let's finish this battle."

To our surprise, what greeted us wasn't more soldiers, but an empty square. Had those golems been this mysterious pretender's reserve force? If so, why didn't he leave any behind to defend himself, I found myself wondering as we cautiously ventured deeper into the apparently-empty encampment. It just didn't make any sense…unless…

"Servant right ahead!" Doctor Roman called out, and sure enough, a portly-looking man with an embellished longsword strode forth from the central tent, despite his girth moving with a sense of self-confidence before pausing a few dozen yards before us. Looking at the apparent commander, I saw that there was a casual expression on his face as he leaned against his sword. Nestled over his black hair was a chaplet of green oak leaves, woven to look like a crown. He wore red, though his exact clothing was hidden by what appeared to be a solid-gold breastplate, complete with a bulge to account for his gut. He looked at each of us with a calculating gaze before finally speaking after a long sigh, sounding completely bored as he did so.

"…So, you're here."

Chapter Text

"…So, you're here," the enemy Servant said in a surprisingly bored expression. I didn't lower my guard, however, not fooled by his overweight appearance. When it came to Servants, one of the worst things one could do, Master or Servant, is to dismiss a hostile one on just looks. "I was growing tired of waiting. Just how long did you intend to keep me waiting?" I blinked in surprise at his tone, and the others seemed to be just as equally caught off-guard by his mannerisms.

"Still though," the Servant continued, looking at us now with a sparkle of excitement in his green eyes, a shade only a little darker than the ones of Nero, though still lighter than Mordred's, "it looks like this will prove to have been worth a little boredom! Those beauties of yours—" he gestured at Nero, Mordred, and Mash. "Such beauties. Beautiful. Truly beautiful, each one of you. Your beauty is fitting for the world's greatest treasure—Rome!"

Uh-oh…

"That's it, your dead meat now!" Mordred roared besides me, activating her Mana Burst ability. Somehow, the soon-to-be brutalized speaker had guessed Mordred's gender. Spies that had infiltrated the camp and reported on our arrival, no doubt, are responsible for this. Just as I had expected, the man's implications had set off Mordred's disgust at being referred to by her gender. I gripped her shoulder firmly, shaking my head slightly.

"Not yet," I whispered, noticing out of the corner of my eye how the man reacted with a mere laugh at the ire being directed towards him by the Knight of Rebellion, before focusing on Nero. With a huff, my first Servant deactivated her ability, though she gripped the hilt of Clarent tightly. "Let's just see what he has to say. Perhaps we can find out some useful information from him first," I whispered, and Mordred reluctantly nodded in understanding just as our opponent continued speaking.

"Heir to our beloved Rome," he said, pointing his sword lazily towards Nero, "What is your name?" The Emperor of Roses didn't reply at first, looking to the side. The general tutted in disapproval. "Don't fall silent. Even if it's on the field of battle, be eloquent. Do you intend to fight without giving me your name? Is that the way of the current Roman Emperor" he asked the blonde Roman in a tone that could be described as being simultaneously chiding and mocking. Still Nero kept quiet, looking uncertain.

"Then why don't you start us off? Who are you?" Ritsuka interjected warily. The man let out a brief bark of laughter.

"Oh-ho, there seems to be some fire in you, young man. Very well. You may call me Caesar, a reluctant member of the Saber class. As much as it is a bother for me, don't underestimate my skills. "Now then, speak. Who are the ones who would force me to take up arms? What are your names?"

"Nero," the Emperor of Roses finally spoke. "I am the fifth Emperor of the Roman Empire, Nero Claudius." Her voice sounded firm, and her posture displaying her more typical self-confidence. "I will take you out, pretender to the throne!"

Caesar laughed loudly, nodding in approval. "I like you to announce yourself. Otherwise, it would all be so dull. But you're not the only one whose name I demand to here. You, guest commanders! I thank you and your Servants for coming from a distant land. Tell me your names as well.

"I am Jacob Aronson. Forty-ninth Master Candidate of Chaldea," I said, fighting down the instinct to draw my own sword. A Servant named Caesar, who was fighting alongside the Mad Emperor Caligula…though he hadn't confirmed it, I felt that I knew who the Servant was.

"Ritsuka Fujimaru," my fellow Master said next, a hesitant expression on his face. "Um…you're kind of plump, aren't you?" We all stared at the Japanese Master in a mixture of shock, horror, and disappointment. Mash shook her head forlornly, while I waged a mental way over whether I should face palm or deliver a light smack to the back of Ritsuka's head. Deciding to do neither, at least for now, I instead look towards Caesar, preparing to deliver an apologetic statement on the behalf of my friend. After all, while this is a fight to the death, there's still no reason for keeping this at least somewhat civilized, in my opinion.

To my surprise however, the portly Saber was beaming at us, looking the complete opposite of offended. "Of course! Remember, Rome is the pinnacle of civilization, and that begins with gourmet food! Ergo, plumpness is power," he declared proudly.

…Were all of the Roman emperors we were to encounter during our time here going to be eccentric in some manner?

"Take the fifth Emperor here," Caesar continues speaking, gesturing at Neo with his empty hand. "She's plump in all the right places. Although, my dear, I must admit that even your bosom is inferior to my woman, the Queen of the Desert and the Nile, but that's fine," the Father of the Roman Empire said, with what was a flirty wink.

"At least he isn't lacking in self-confidence," Ritsuka remarked dryly. I nodded numbly, my mind still processing the turn of events we were witnessing while behind us thousands of men were fighting and dying.

Nero's face flushed crimson, and she looked away with a flustered smile, her sabaton/heel-clad feet fidgeting in place. "Umu, as befits the man who in life single-handedly subdued Gaul. You soften a woman's heart as naturally as you breathe…" Nero said absently before shaking her head furiously, looking sternly at the unashamed Caesar, pointing her own sword at her predecessor. "But I am not a woman like my mother! I am an emperor and a young maiden!"

"Isn't that the same thing?" Mordred muttered softly, and I grunted in response. Eh, it's Nero, enough said.

"Oddly-rotund man, your words fail to strike a true chord in my heart!"

"Is that so…?" Caesar clicked his tongue in disappointment.

"Ahem," Doctor Roman, who had been listening to this…performance…silently finally jumped in with a polite cough. "Can we get down to business?" He asked somewhat awkwardly, though I nodded eagerly.

"Actually, one moment, Doctor," Mash said, stepping forward and looking at the 'oddly-rotund man'. "I wish to ask you something, about the United Empire and the Holy Grail." Caesar sighed, gesturing lazily at Ritsuka.

"Oh? Then, um, the what's-your-name over there…"

"Ritsuka," the aforementioned magus interjected with a weary sigh of his own.

"I'm afraid I shan't answer any more questions. It is a pain, but you are Servants, and therefore my enemies that I must crush," Caesar sighed dramatically once more, a sound I was growing incredibly weary of, as he raised his sword in a saluting manner. "Let me reward you all for coming this far. I will let you witness the power of my golden sword, Crocea Mors."

"Don't say that!" Nero shouted as she stomped one foot down furiously. "Gold is my color! MINE! The one who built the Golden Theater!"

"That's the spirit," the enemy Saber said with a chuckle. "Servants, and you, young Demi-Servant, protect her well. Fight well, and perhaps I will tell you where to find the item you seek. Now then, come forth. The die has been cast once more!"

Nero shot forward, nearly as fast as Mordred…nearly. My breath got caught in the back of my throat, eyes widening. Shit, she doesn't realize either who she is fighting, nor that he is a Servant, and therefore in an entirely different league, fat though he may be!

Then Emperor of Roses lashed out with her sword, the metal becoming almost a blur of red. With a heft grunt, the stout Servant slammed his sword into hers, the action appearing almost clumsy. Is it a feint, perhaps? Or has the Saber been summoned improperly, or something along the lines of that?

Regardless of which one was the answer, either option left me feeling on edge. I frantically turn to look at my own Saber, seeing out of the corner of my eye Ritsuka doing the same for Mash.

"Mordred!" I shouted hoarsely. The shorter blonde nodded, leaping forward. I suspected that, much like Caster Chulainn and Singularity F, fixing this distortion of the timeline hinged on Nero's survival until we get the Grail. Not an easy task considering how reckless the petite yet busty blonde seemed to behave.

As Nero and Caesar exchanged some more blows in rapid succession, each one sending showers of sparks into the air, Mordred and Mash closed the distance. I saw Caesar's face scrunch up in distaste, and he tried to duck and dodge the sword and shield being swung at him, ducking under the former, but getting rammed by the latter. The enemy Servant doesn't fall, however, but merely leaps backwards, though he isn't given a moment's rest. Nero jumped towards him, swinging her sword down, and using the momentum of her fall to add extra strength to her attack.

At the last moment Caesar blocked the attack with his own sword, falling briefly to one knee before leaning forward slightly, pushing Nero backwards, and upsetting her guard. Grinning slightly, the rotund man charged forward, intent on impaling the blonde with his own sword.

"Nero!" I called out as Mordred growled loudly under her helmet. The Knight of Rebellion swung her sword at him, only for the Saber to block Clarent, the swords locked against one another as Mordred tried to apply more force to break through the deadlock, while Nero stepped backwards, panting slightly.

"Now!" Ritsuka suddenly shouted, startling me. Not nearly as much as the sudden appearance of an arrow slamming into the enemy Saber's shoulder, however, as he stumbled backwards with a startled yet furious cry of alarm. Ritsuka must have been in communication with Chiron, because only a Servant could fire an arrow like that from seemingly nowhere. Unfortunately, it wasn't a mortal wound that the Greek Archer had dealt to the former Roman dictator.

Damn it! So close, and yet so far…

"Tch! What a bother!" Caesar growled, stepping back and raising his sword defensively, ready to react to another arrow, now that he knew to be wary of this latest threat against him. Our own Servants, as well as Nero, stepped back, and an uneasy lull replaced the earlier fighting.

"Hmm, you certainly are strong," Caesar said, wincing slightly as he yanked Chiron's arrow from out of his shoulder. "Though, this is a bit ridiculous," he added with a grumble, watching us warily. "Who would even place a fine general like me on the front lines in the first place. Can't call this 'best man for the job' type nonsense." As Roman's vision of Marie crumbled back at La Charité, so was mine of Caesar. This was the man that conquered the various Celtic tribes of Gaul? The man who led the initial invasion and conquest of Britannia? Who had installed himself as the Dictator of Rome, and whose death had been the death blow to the flagging Roman Republic?

To his credit, though, he did have more than a decent amount of skill with his weapon, and the strength to utilize it fully, even if Clarent was in my opinion a far more devastating sword. Therefore, it was unsurprising for Mash to shoot the pudgy man an incredulous look over her shield.

"Welding such a devastating sword," Mash said in disbelief. "How can you even say that?"

"I thought that a pretender such as yourself would be a fake. Instead, you're proving to be a monster," an equally-stunned Nero admitted. The only one who didn't understand either who he really was, or just how much power a Servant had, especially, it seems, the Saber class. Caesar tutted in disappointment, pointing Crocea Mors, 'Yellow Death', towards his fellow emperor.

"No, you're quite wrong about that, Nero Claudius. I'm still the emperor, though no such title existed in my time. In response to your beauty and courage, I shall tell you my full name. Listen well, for I tell no lie. I am Caesar. Gaius Julius Caesar," he said with a smug smile, which only grew as a horrified expression appeared on the elegant features of Nero.

"Wh-What? That's…that's the name of the man who had adopted Augustus, the first emperor…but…" Nero stared hard, her face screwed up slightly in anguish as she tried to process this ground-shaking revelation. No, for her, this had to be world-shattering. "You're dead," Nero finally said weakly. "How can this be?"

"I've heard word that you have already encountered Caligula. If that is true, then you should already know," Caesar replied dismissively. "We're 'genuine', myself and…him," he added, sounding disgusted at the mention of the Berserker. Nero snarled at him. "Now, now, do try to relax. You are beautiful, truly beautiful. Your beauty can match almost any other treasure in the world. You, Demi-Servant, you too are beautiful. Very nice indeed," he mused, his eyes focusing uncomfortably long on Mash's chest.

I hissed angrily as Mash gasped in discomfort, hiding herself behind her shield, and away from the Saber's hungry gaze. Beside her, Mordred's body tensed, and I could feel her rage growing stronger. Despite why it was happening, it felt nice to see that Mordred was at least somewhat protective of the young girl, though perhaps it was also the blonde following the knightly codes she had strived to maintain until the fall of Camelot.

"I admire your courage, strength, and beauty. Therefore, I shall tell you one thing. You asked for the location of the Holy Grail, yes? The Grail is located in a castle at the heart of the United Empire's capital. More precisely, in the hands of our Court Mage," Caesar revealed, once more ignoring the reaction to his words.

"A Mage?" I said softly.

"Can you tell us their name, at least?" Ritsuka said. Caesar shook his head, and I noticed that the shoulder wound and the other minor cuts and scrapes he had acquired from the trio had vanished.

"I can't. Your rewards ends there, for I have no reason to tell you more. Now, Emperor Nero, your hardship is not something I wish for, but I have my own reasons to fight. I want the Grail for myself, for I have a wish, in order to fulfill a promise I had made long ago. Therefore, I've decided that it's time for me to be serious."

"Well, that doesn't sound sinister," Amadeus said sarcastically from behind.

"It's been a while, so I needed exercise. The poor golden sword also needs occasional use," Caesar remarked before suddenly being enveloped in a bright white light.

"His magical energy level is rising? No, he really must have been holding back, and is now unleashing it! Give him everything you got!" Doctor Roman reported as the light faded away. The same Saber stood opposite us, but yet he wasn't quite. His leafy crown had been replaced by one of gold. His left arm had somehow been enveloped in marble, resulting in an oversized appendage.

"I came, I saw. Now, I conquer!"

"Gah…for Rome!" Nero roared in return, charging froward once more before any of us could stop her, as her predecessor did the same thing.

"Tch, Amadeus!" I said rapidly, spinning around on my heels to stare at the composer. "Is there anything you can do? Maybe deafen him?" I asked. The Caster reluctantly shook his head.

"I'm afraid not. Unless, that is, you desire to have our comrades also be affected," he replied. I wanted to curse, but didn't. It's not his fault.

"Understood. Can you at least keep an eye out for either an opportunity to target him with your Noble Phantasm, or ensure that no one hostile to us is sneaking up?" I requested, as the sounds of steel slamming against steel filled the air behind me once more.

"With pleasure."

Well, that'll have to be enough for now. I look back to see Nero skidding backwards, her metal heels kicking up a cloud of dust as Caesar retracted his stone-covered arm, his fingers curled into a fist. Suddenly, they open up, and he reaches forward, grabbing the shaft of Chiron's second arrow mid-flight.

"How does that modern phrase go? 'Fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice, shame on me'?" Caesar shouted mockingly, snapping the arrow shaft while Mash charged at him from the side. Laughing happily, the Saber moved with surprising grace, showing that his earlier clumsiness was indeed a ploy as he first sidestepped the shield charge, and then stepped into Mash's guard.

Mash released a startled yep as the pommel of Crocea Mors slammed into her exposed midriff, and I could see a thin stream of spittle flying from her lips as she stumbled backwards. Caesar didn't give the Demi-Servant a chance to recover, however. He lunged forward, this time aiming the tip of his longsword at Mash's exposed and unprotected naval, while Ritsuka called out her name in desperate fear. Mordred was trying to slam herself into him, but it didn't look like she would make it in time.

Thankfully, there was someone else who did.

Nero's lightning bolt-shaped blade deflected Caesar's thrust at the last second, her red and white clothes lightly stained with dirt and dust, but a determined fire burning in her eyes.

"I don't think so," she hissed, eliciting a laugh from the Conqueror of Gaul. As Nero prepared a fresh barrage of attacks, however, Caesar somehow managed to kick her in the midriff, sending her skidding backwards once more, though Mordred quickly took her place, exchanging her ferocious and powerful strikes against Caesar's more elegant and composed parries and counterstrikes.

Swiftly, recovering, Nero was about to throw herself into the fray for the thrice time when I gripped her shoulder, heedless of any possible risks from boldly grasping an emperor. "Your Majesty, I beg you to please stay back. I mean no insult, but this foe is beyond you, as skilled you are. Please, allow your viceroy and I deal with him," I said rapidly and pleadingly.

For a moment, I feared my words would fall on deaf ears as the blonde diva (for a lack of better words) glared ferociously at me, but I held my ground. I had faced off against a dragon, so it would be hard to be cowed by anything less, I felt. Thankfully, the intensity her green orbs held dimmed slightly, and her body relaxed.

"Very well, Praetor. I expect nothing less than victory, though," she added warningly. I idly nodded my head, focusing once more on Mordred as she continued dueling with her fellow Saber. Mash was out of the fight, still recovering from being stunned, while neither Amadeus nor Chiron were able to launch any of their ranged attacks without possibly injuring their teammate, leaving Mordred on her own.

However, I had faith in both her combat prowess and in the plucky Saber herself.

Said Servant appeared to be enjoying herself, shouting out at times, laughing at others, as a furious display of swordsman ship was displayed by both combatants. A mighty swing of Clarent that would have cleaved the pudgy Roman in half was deflected to the side by Crocea Mors. A follow-up thrust of the thinner sword was in turn halted by the flat of Mordred's oversized blade, gripped horizontally before the knight in one hand while the other swung in, backhanding Caesar.

"Gah!" The Saber sputtered, before slamming his marble-clad hand into Mordred's stomach in retaliation, though Mordred seemed to ignore the powerful strike, and I winced for her. I made a mental note to check on the Knight of Rebellion's injuries when we return to camp, once more refusing to accept the remote possibility of her being defeated.

The two Sabers finally took a few steps back from one another, eyeing the other warily as the rest of us watched on, bodies tense.

"Time to finish this," Caesar rumbled, and I could hear Mordred's dismissive scoff.

"Couldn't agree more!" She roared, before suddenly activating her Mana Burst ability once more, zipping forward and catching Caesar off-guard as she thrusted her sword forward with all her might and a savage battle cry.

The familiar sound of metal being torn asunder filled the air, along with a muffled cry of shock from Caesar as Mordred twisted the hilt of Clarent slightly, widening the wound she had inflicted by impaling the dangerous Saber. To his credit, the Servant raised his sword overhead, but before he could strike, Mordred pushed him backwards with a strong kick that also served as a means of forcing Clarent out of his large gut, revealing the massive, gaping hole.

"Mm, mmm…" Nero hummed nervously, looking over the shoulders of Mordred and Mash. "Did we…get him?"

"Yes, I can detect that his readings are getting weaker. You've won. Congratulations," Doctor Roman explained in a matter-of-fact manner, though more for Nero's benefit than for us. After all, with the gaping wound courtesy of Clarent still weeping blood, it would be pretty difficult for a Servant to recover, especially without any Command Seals being used. Mordred scoffed, and flicked Clarent to the side, walking away defiantly from the mortally wounded Saber, while Mash cautiously approached the rotund man.

"Your sword was very powerful, but as long as I have Ritsuka Senpai's instructions, I can block it," she addressed Caesar in an apologetic manner. Polite as ever, even to a blatant womanizer. Caesar merely chuckled weakly, Crocea Mors disappearing in a cloud of golden light.

"Hmm…being taken out by such beautiful women isn't so bad. Much more preferable than a horde of envious men with daggers," he said before pausing, a look of disgust on his face, though it seemed to have not been aimed towards us, surprisingly. "It's not feasible for me to act like a mere soldier, anyway. Seriously, I was helpless against his weirdness."

"His—?" Nero asked, as I looked at the dying Servant with an arched eyebrow. Caesar nodded glumly, his massive stone hand starting to dissolve next, leaving the defeated Saber looking as he was when we first ran into him, with the addition of a torn-open breastplate, that is.

"That's right, the true emperor of this era. He is surely waiting for your arrival in the capital. While I'm not exactly an emperor, I can assure you that none of the past 'emperors' can stand up against him. When you see that person's name and face, I wonder how'll you react?" He mused, sounding a bit cruel.

"Why wonder when you could tell us know?" I said, though not expecting the idea to be considered by the man. Regardless, his remaining time was nearly at an end, his form growing more transparent as a golden light began gleaming dully.

"Now where is the fun in that?" Caesar retorted with a knowing smirk as his body continued to dissolve. The last thing we saw was that very smirk.

"He's gone…" Nero said, sounding confused once more. "What's this…Is this some sort of magecraft…or…" Ah, what to say?

"He's left this world," I said vaguely. While it wasn't a lie, it wasn't the full truth, either. However, the blonde already had a lost expression on her features, and I had a sinking suspicion that she wouldn't handle the full revelation of Servants very well. Her eyes locked on me, a fire kindling in them.

"What do you mean?" She asked, demanded, really. Thankfully, Mash took a step forward, and Nero shifted her gaze to the Demi-Servant.

"What Jacob Senpai means is, that Servant is gone from this world. A Servant disappears when facing death, their temporary body dissipating while their experience is sent back to the Throne of Heroes," Mash paused, seeing that she hadn't been able to provide clarity to the Emperor of Roses, either. "If you wish, we can discuss this back at the camp?" She offered.

"Umu, that is a fine suggestion. Come, let's share the good news with the others," Nero said, her composure restored as she strutted towards the entrance. The sounds of fighting, muted as they had been during our battle against Caesar, had truly faded away, with cries of victory and relief replacing them. So, the battle outside had concluded just as victoriously for our own side, it seems, for now soldiers wearing the markings of the United Empire were rushing towards us. Overhead, I could see a half dozen vultures already circling over the battlefield, as we turned back towards our own camp in relative silence.

Still, as I followed her along with the others, my mind was racing. Just who exactly was the person who apparently shared control over the Holy Grail?

 A muscular hand slammed into the arm of the gilded throne. The two other occupants stared impassively at a tall, muscular man with bronze-colored skin. He had watched the scene of his subordinate's duel thanks to his Master's use of familiars. "So," he finally said, keeping his rumbling voice level despite his earlier outburst of frustration, "Caesar was defeated."

Lev Lainur stepped forward, his head bowed slightly. As outlandish a name he bore, and as garish as he found the 'man's' outfit to be, he had proven quite useful. "Yes, it seems that way," he responded with a smooth, almost oily tone. "I only used him because he had a wish for the Grail. This shouldn't cause many issues, however," he added reassuringly. Not that he needed to hear such trivial matters from Lev. "I can summon as many new Servants as I want. If there's an issue, however, it's this foolish Berserker," Lev scoffed, gesturing dismissively at one of the other occupants, who growled softly at his insulter. "Isn't it obvious that Berserkers are fool?" Lev commented, unaffected by Caligula's anger.

"Silence, Caligula," the leader of the United Empires commanded his admittedly-troublesome subordinate, and the golden-armored Berserker reluctantly did so. He could understand his fellow Servant's frustration, but it was pointless. Roma demanded sacrifices to be made, even from him, and so he would submit to the wishes of the mage present.

"I was surprised he would defy my orders. Is blood thicker than water? What a joke," Lev said, continuing his disparaging remarks.

"For my destiny…My beloved niece Nero…is irrelevant," Caligula responded in his forced, halting manner of speech. "Beautiful child…Nero, you will be loved, loved, so loved…Therefore…in my destiny…"

Lev rolled his eyes, scoffing dismissively. The true emperor of Rome chaffed at Lev's lack of respect towards his fellow emperor, but the bronze-skinned man held his tongue. Whether he liked it or not, he had agreed to work with the mage when he was summoned.

"I regret not having any Command Spells, though I do have a different spell of sorts ready for you. You will kill your niece with your own hands. Then, drowning in regret, you will destroy everything else in this era," the purple-haired man said, though he looked more demonic than human as he smiled viciously at the fuming Caligula. He then sighed dramatically, before resuming his little 'speech'.

"That said, I highly doubt that you have enough intellect to feel regret. My, my, Servants truly are inconvenient beings. No matter how 'legendary' you are, or how much superhuman strength you possess, in the end you are little more than mere familiars. You all have the power to change the world at will, yet that freedom is not allowed. How ironic. Wouldn't you agree?" Lev asked the seated Servant.

He had heard enough from Lev. "Be careful what you say," he said, having settled on a simple warning. His 'Master' Lev may be, but he, Romulus, wouldn't take any insults, veiled or direct, in silence. To insult him was to insult Roma, after all.

And to insult Roma was for the one responsible to forfeit their lives.

"Oh, excuse me," Lev said in an apologetic tone dripping with insincerity. "Come to think of it, you are a Servant, too. That's why you too must obey me. If there is anything remotely close to that thing you call destiny, I am it. We have orders from our king, and now it is time to replenish our losses, and then finish incinerating this blasted era," Lev said, waving a hand and chanting words unfamiliar to the Lancer, before a flash of light engulfed the room, and the Founder of Rome sensed the presence of another Servant even as the light faded away.

Another bronze-skinned man was now standing before both he and Lev, bare-chested, and with Greek arms and armors, with a crest made out of fire. The newcomer bent down to one knee, bowing his head at his Master's feet in submission.

"…Servant, Lancer. True Name, Leonidas. I will serve you from here on," he said in a brusque manner, refusing to mince words. Lev laughed wickedly. "Oh, the Hero of Thermopylae. Not bad, not bad at all. Use your full powers to eliminate Nero Claudius…"

As Romulus tuned out the words of the eccentric figure, he felt a faint twinge of pity for his fellow emperor, the one he must kill. But it must be done, for the glory of Roma.

Chapter Text

It must have been around late afternoon when we, the victors, finally returned to the shelter of our camp. Her soldiers chanting her name, and mounted on her horse once more, Nero guided her mount towards the center of the camp, her eyes shining excitedly as she soaked in the praise.

I felt a tap on my shoulder, and turned around to see Boudica looking at Ritsuka, Mash and myself. Out Servants began spreading out, breaking up to go to various places around the camp either as small groups like the three French Servants and the musical composer, or on their own like Chulainn and Sasaki.

"Jacob, Mash, Ritsuka, may I speak to the three of you in private?" Boudica asked, a serious glint in her eyes instead of her more mirthful look. We all nodded, and the Rider gestured at us to follow her, and we do so. Further away from the main crowd of soldiers and the occasional Servant, Boudica took a deep breath.

"There's something I'm worried about. Something about Nero," the former queen began saying. "It happened right after you all arrived. Did any of you notice, how she spaced out?"

"I take it that isn't an uncommon occurrence?" I asked, and Boudica nodded with a sigh.

"Yes, she occasionally spaces out. Nero has been like that ever since the United Empire showed up. It might just be me, but whenever I've been around her during one of those moments, I feel a slight trace of magical energy. I know that I shouldn't seeing as how she's a human from this era, and not a mage like you or Ritsuka. Still, I definitely feel it."

"Have you confronted her over this?" Ritsuka inquired, and Boudica released another weary sigh.

"Yes, I have asked her about it, but she doesn't feel it at all. At least, so she claims. Can you guys keep an eye out? I mean, about her?" Boudica asked, smiling sheepishly with a soft blush, before regaining her composure. "While it hasn't been made official yet, Nero told me that she is appointing Spartacus and I as the new governors of Gaul. That means that we'll have to stay here, protecting this place. That means I can't keep any eye on her myself…" she trailed off, sounding a bit awkward.

"Understood," Mash said quickly, rescuing the Rider from having to finish that sentence. "You're…worried about Nero, aren't you?"  She asked cautiously, her 'big sister' suddenly scoffing at the suggestion.

"I wouldn't worry about her at all!" She said rather aggressively. "It's not something I want to do personally, and thankfully now I won't have too. Sadly, for better or worse, Nero's now the symbol of this land. If something happens to her—"

"The war would be lost, and with it, humanity," I guessed, and Boudica nodded her head sharply.

"Correct. I don't want to lose another war. That's the only reason I care about her."

"…Right," Mash said meekly, having been intimidated by the surprisingly-aggressive aura her earlier remark had caused the Rider to create around us.

"Well then, that's that," Boudica said with a smile, instantly dispelling the aforementioned tension. "Mash, we have time before you leave, correct?'

"U-Um—" Mash stuttered, confused both by Boudica's sudden mood shift and her words.

"Before you leave," the Rider said excitedly, hooking an arm around the Demi-Servant's and pulling Mash close to her, trapping the Shielder. "I will teach you the best of Britannia cuisine! I'd be happy if my new little sister learned it, and then made it her specialty!" Boudica gushed excitedly.

I covered my mouth slightly with my left hand, trying to muffle the soft giggles threatening to erupt from my lips as Mash tried to pry herself free.

"N-No, that's—"

"You're so cute, you should start training to be a bride!" Well, that escalated quickly. Ritsuka seemed to have felt the same, his jaw hanging open slightly, and his eyes bulging out like dinner plates as the redhead looked at him from the corner of her eye slyly. Mash was having the worst of it however, having gone stiff like a log while her cheeks exploded into a bright red. "Oh, geeze, so cute! Come here!" Boudica crooned, pulling Mash against her. Once again, Mash began having issues with a certain anatomical feature of the energetic and motherly Servant trapping her.

"W-Wah! Again—" She gasped, trying to tilt her head back slightly. "Your breasts—"

"There, there," Boudica said, apparently ignoring Mash getting, well, mashed according to Ritsuka last time. "Good girl, good girl," she crooned. "You stay cheerful forever. Don't get too hurt, and don't be too reckless. You really are an adorable girl."

Somehow, Mash's blush managed to get even brighter in color.

"Y-Yes, well, I-I am Senpai's…um..." Oh-ho, what's this? Still, it was getting a bit awkward for me, and as the sun began its final descent to signal the arrival of nightfall, I turned to Ritsuka.

"I'm going to go check on Mordred. I wanna see if she took any serious damage from that marble-coated punch from Caesar," I said, and Ritsuka nodded dumbly, unable to look away from the spectacle that Mash and Boudica were quickly becoming. "Good luck with explaining to Nero the whole thing about Servants, too," I said cheekily as I walked off. I could hear Ritsuka suddenly shouting my name as he realizes that I had thrown him to the wolves (or should it be roses in this case?), and I started looking for the Saber.

I find her sitting at the edge of the crowd, watching with a bored expression, having dismissed her helmet. Her visage brightens slightly at seeing me, no doubt expecting me to become a source of entertainment for her somehow. I made my way over to her, staring intently at her before speaking.

"Did Caesar managed to break anything?" I asked Mordred softly, ensuring that only she would hear the words. I didn't want to cause a scene or something while the others celebrated our victory. Mordred gave her reply with a lazy shrug of her shoulders.

"I think he cracked a rib or two with that bunch, but it's nothing that the pipsqueak needs to use her Noble Phantasm to fix," she responded in a casual tone. I furrowed my brow slightly in displeasure at her words. Yes, she is a Heroic Spirit, meaning that she has an unmatchable level of endurance compared to me, but that doesn't mean I would be fine with letting the matter rest.

"While that may be the case, I can give you some mana to speed up the healing process. I know, I know, you're no push over when it comes to pain and all, but there's no point in staying in discomfort when it's not needed, don't you agree?" I asked. The blonde Saber chewed on the corner of her lip for a few seconds, remaining silent before sighing.

"Eh, I guess you have a point. Better not be thinking of doing something creepy," she warned, and my cheeks flushed slightly as I remembered Medea's lesson she had given Ritsuka and I after Orléans on the various methods of performing mana transfers to Servants. Or rather, I was blushing at a combination of  remembering one method in particular that I still felt had to be just a joke and Medea's laughter at the reactions of Ritsuka and I.

"Wow, glad to think so highly of me," I drawled, causing the Knight of Rebellion to snicker in amusement at my flat tone. "Just the basic method of pushing mana towards you, using the connection we have as Master and Servant," I added, and Mordred relaxed slightly.

"Good call. Welp, no point in delaying. Let's get this over with, Mas-Jacob," Mordred correct when I shoot her another raised eyebrow. Seems she was still getting used to that request of mine. Eh, progress is progress, at the end of the day. I closed my eyes and activated my Magic Circuits, and nervously imagined pushing some of the magical energy coursing through them towards Mordred. Not too much to leave me drained, but enough to ensure that come morning, the blonde knight would be fully healed.

"Ah, that's better," Mordred said as I deactivated my Magic Circuits less than a minute later. I felt a little shaky, but that is probably more to do with my body still adjusting to using magecraft on a more consistent basis in the past few weeks compared to most of my childhood.

"Well, it would be concerning if it was worst," I quipped, shooting my partner a lopsided grin that had Mordred rolling her eyes slightly at me in what I have now come to realize was mock exasperation. When we had first met, I would have worried about having somehow offended the prideful Servant, but now, I found myself starting to pick up on some of her mannerisms.

Not enough to make me some sort of expert at understanding the blonde, but enough still to make for a pleasant relationship. "So, what did you think of that guy, Caesar? Second time I've seen you fighting against a fellow Saber, after all," I said, staring into her emerald eyes curiously.

Mordred just shrugged lazily. "Eh, it was a good fight. He fought better than I'd have expected for someone of his appearance, but at least it wasn't a boring fight. Of course, in the end, not even he could stand against me," she added cockily, and I had to stifle my laugh. Honestly, the times after a fight against a Servant where Mordred doesn't boast of her skills will be a time most concerning to me over her.

"Indeed," I said instead, smiling warmly at her as the scent of Boudica's cooking wafted towards us. "Seems like dinner is ready. Let's grab some before the others eat it all and leave nothing for us," I said with a soft laugh. Mordred joined in, her voice sounding almost musical when she was giving a soft laugh as opposed to her louder and more boisterous laughter one usually would hear from her.

Tonight would be a time to relax, and come morning, we would head back for Rome, to plan our next move.

Dawn and morning came and went with very little fanfare. Nero gave one of her speeches before departing, as well as instructing Boudica and Spartacus to make sure that Gaul was fully under Rome's control once more in the meantime, just as Boudica had said last night, and then we left.

That wasn't to say that all was well, however, as we continued our march back to Rome. Boudica's warning from the previous evening, and her follow-up request, were still on my mind as I looked up at the source of unease, at least for the moment.

"Your Majesty," I suddenly said, staring intently at disturbingly-silent Emperor of Roses. We had been on the march for less than an hour, with only her escort of the Praetorian Guard surrounding us. "What's on your mind?" I asked, looking up at the mounted blonde. She hummed to herself softly, though the tune sounded rather off-key, if Amadeus's slight grimace was any indication.

"Did you hear what those men outside of the camp said this morning, as well as that traveler and fisherman we passed not that long ago? That 'an ancient god has appeared'. Could it be true?" She asked. I looked at Mash. In these matters, she and Doctor Roman were the most reliable in coming up with either soldi answers at best, or realistic theories at worst.

"I wonder," Roman said in a thoughtful tone.  "It's certainly an interesting phrase. If they said 'ancient god', could it be from the Age of the Gods?"

"To be more precise, four different people have all said the same thing, even though they would normally have been completely different professions. A cobbler, a traveler, a fisherman, and a farmer. They would have nothing to gain from trying to deceive us," Mash added. I nodded in agreement.

"'An ancient god appeared on an island off the coast, in the Mediterranean'," I said, repeating the information we had been told. "It feels too specific to just be the work of idle minds."

"It's not unusual to hear such rumors, especially from a fisherman. Still, Gaul has both a naval port loyal to my faction, and also has a part facing the sea. Normally, I would have dismissed such talk, but after hearing it over and over, I confess that I am now most intrigued. It is a pity though that we must return to Rome, however," Nero said with a longing sigh.

"Hmmm, it is intriguing, huh?" Roman interjected. "Jacob, Ritsuka, what do you guys think?"

"Well, it's not like this is the first unusual thing we have encountered recently," Ritsuka said cautiously. I grunted in agreement as memories of zombies, beast-men, and dragons flashed by.

"It could do with the Holy Grail, too," I added. Mash looked at us with uncertainty.

"Well…I'm not so sure about that. Caesar said their 'Court Mage was in possession of it," she countered softly. A good point, but not necessarily valid. After all, back in France, Gilles had his hands on the Grail there, and yet he wasn't able to control everything that was summoned. Perhaps it was the Grail reacting once again in an attempt to preserve all?

"We can't tell if it's Lev or not, but whoever it is, perhaps he has moved into the Mediterranean?" Roman suggested. "Whoever has the Grail could reasonably claim therefore to be a god. An island where a god lives, huh," the ginger man mused aloud. "Ah, that sounds so romantic! An ancient god in the First Century! The supposedly-gone Divine Spirits of the past returning to the land once more!"

"You were up late on that website you're always talking about last night, weren't you?" I said with a soft sigh, cupping my face as I shook my head in mild amusement. The acting-director started to splutter, but Mash indirectly cam to his aid.

"A question, Doctor. Is the materialization of Divine Spirits really possible?"

'it's difficult. So much so that it's nigh impossible. At least, if one was using Chaldea's system," Roman replied, and Ritsuka and I shared a frown.

"Divine Spirit? Not a Heroic Spirit?" Rits asked.

"Yes. It is different than a Heroic Spirit," Mash began to say/lecture. "It is said to be a higher being. Divine beings are mentioned in many legends of this world. Sometimes as a natural phenomenon, or symbols of authority," the Demi-Servant said.

"They are what you guys may call God, or gods. Just think of Divine Spirits as a term to define them. They're already gone from the face of the Earth. Perhaps they never existed in the first place. Sadly, it's hard to understand magecraft developed after Anno Domini, the birth of Christ. Not even the brightest minds at the Clock Tower can agree on this, especially since we are unable to observe them in our own time. Ahaha, but I've gone on a tangent here," Doctor Roman said with a sheepish laugh. "To answer the question of whether or not a Divine Spirit can materialize as a Servant, the answer is quite simple: They can't. Even if 'they' were inclined to do so, even if technology reached the realms of True Magic, it's disadvantageous, though not impossible," he added, though I found myself feeling quite confused.

"So, just to make sure, there isn't actually a god out there?" I asked bluntly.

"Correct. Still, that doesn't change the fact that something powerful is out there."

"Bah, this is pointless," Nero finally said with a frustrated huff. "Umu, if it's on our minds so much, fine! Like I said, we are near a friendly port, where we can board a ship to verify this report," she said. Before we could talk any more on this topic, however, the captain of Nero's personal guard came rushing back, having lead a small scouting party ahead of us. He looked worried, his gladius drawn, and a long scratch down his right bicep that was weeping blood.

"Your Majesty! The head of the column is being assaulted by unknown monsters!" He said, saluting hastily, panic in his voice. "We can't stop them!"

"I am detecting traces of magical energy. It could be a monster spawned by the Grail," Roman reported, sounding embarrassed. It seems that the discussion distracted him from checking on any readings around us, and therefore he was trying to make up for that slip up.

"Let's go, Senpai!" Mash urged Ritsuka.

"Let's quickly deal with it," my fellow master said in agreement.

"Yes, Master. Commencing battle!" Mash said in her stern manner, summoning her over-sized shield as more of Nero's soldiers came running towards us, each looking injured and panic.

The temperature started to feel like it was dropping just then, and for a second, I could have sworn that I was able to see the vaguest hints of our breaths.

"What devilry is this?" Jeanne muttered softly, and I found myself agreeing wholeheartedly. It was barely past midday during the summer, on a cloudless day, and yet it almost felt like the outside of Chaldea! Just what was responsible for this? Thankfully, I didn't have to wait long to find out, as I gasped in shock at the sight of a half-dozen figures I had never seen before.

Silently, their silverly translucent shrouds fluttered silently on a non-existent breeze. Their bony fingers curled slightly, extended partially forwards, as if to embrace one of us in a life-crushing hug. Each figure's face was an ethereal skull, staring at us with what we could clearly feel to be malicious intent, and I felt a trace of dread beginning to invade my body as the ghosts (for what other than some type of spirit could these malevolent things be?) began floating towards us.

"Wraiths! Master, Jacob Senpai, stay back! Don't let them touch you! Their claws can drain the life out a victim!" Mash called out, positioning her shield and her body in front of me. To her right, Jeanne did the same, spinning her flagstaff while Mordred stood to the Demi-Servant's left, right before me. However, one of the other Servants, the quieter ones, spoke up in her soft tone.

"Master, allow me to deal with these things."

Moving in front of us, Medea started levitating in the air slightly, her staff appearing in one hand while she held an open palm towards one of the ghosts, and the hair stood up. "Shall we begin?" The Caster asked mockingly, though the ghosts neither paused nor hesitated.

Speaking in her native tongue, a dialect of ancient Greek that I had no hope of learning anytime soon sadly, one of the half-dozen spirits was encased in a circle of energy, paralyzing it, and the Witch of Betrayal floated even higher into the air, throwing the tails of her cloak up, and several small circles of pinkish energy appeared on either side, before beams of magical energy of a similar color shot out and forth, striking the trapped wraith dead-center.

I had to squint my eyes, but even then I was unable to witness the demise of the wraith, for when the light faded only a faint whisp of smoke drifting away on the wind was all that was left. The five remaining spirits almost seemed to have recoiled, while a ragged cheer arose form behind as Nero's followers shook off the terror of this new kind of enemy.

"Hmph, time for them to experience a final symphony," Amadeus added, the usually passive Caster raising his own implement to shoot off a ball of magical energy at the leftmost wraith. While far less dramatic as Medea's opening attack, it was no less successful in evaporating another foe.

Still unnervingly silent, the remaining four wraiths began floating forward, arms outstretching further as they tried to close the gap between them and the two Casters that had dealt so easily with. Fortunately for us, they were few in number, and despite being theoretically outnumbered two-to-one, our two Casters  each eliminated another two in rapid succession.

I know that this is far from the first time I've had this thought, but seeing a Servant fighting against those less powerful than another Servant was quite terrifying to behold. Especially when one realized just how much of a power gap there is between them and you.

"That was the last one," Mash reports as Medea and Amadeus both returned to their earlier positions, and everyone began relaxing slightly. Nero nodded and turned to her soldiers, instructing them to take a five minute break and deal with the wounded while I listened to Doctor Roman.

"How awful," the acting-director said sadly. "To think that spirits of the dead would materialize on their own." I found myself wondering just who the wraiths had been in life. Were they from this era or earlier? Or, somehow, the remaining traces of those who have yet to fall? I shook my head clear of these morbid thoughts just in time to hear Nero jumping in to the conversation.

"I'm used to it," Nero said in a blasé tone. I felt a vein in my temple starting to pulse slightly at her lack of concern with what she had just said. She's used to the spirits of the dead attacking her on a daily basis? I mean, sure, she's leading a fight against who-knows-how many Servants, but still! "So, uh, what were we talking abou—Right!" Nero suddenly shouted, startling Rits and I with the sudden increase in volume. "That Mediterranean god! Personally, I'd really like to find out the truth on that matter," she said excitedly. Mash shuffled in uncertainty, her spare hand brushing some of her pink hair away from her eyes.

"Are you sure? Don't you, we, need to return to Rome?" Nero shook her head.

"I don't know what this ancient god may be, but what if it's truly one of the gods? It's not impossible, right? There are Roman legends, too. For instance, Romulus, the founder and the first King of Rome, became the newest god of our people after he disappeared amidst a storm of lightning and thunder. Things like that occasionally happen," Nero paused with a shrug, before huffing softly in amusement. "Ancient gods. How amusing. Regardless, we must assume they're gods of Rome. If one of the United Empire's 'emperors' took that god away, we'd have bigger problems." Nero frowned, before staring each of us in the eye. "I don't want that. That's the one thing I absolutely cannot stand."

"I see," Doctor Roman interjected, his tone oozing respect. Perhaps to mollify somewhat the now-fired up blonde? "Your Majesty's words are reasonable. As guest commanders, we'd be happy to accompany you."

Since when was Doc a guest commander?!? Mash must have had a similar thought, for she frowned slightly.

"Aren't you enjoying this a bit too much, Doctor?"

"That's not true!" I swear to whatever deity is watching us, if he says 'that's impossible', I might have to smack the back of Roman's head slightly when we got back to Chaldea. "I just can't hide my overflowing curiosity as a researcher!"

I sighed as Mash blinked in confusion. "But…that's…"

Whatever she was going to say it was, she didn't get to voice it, as Fou began chirping in concern, looking at Nero, concern filling the critter's oddly-colored eyes.

"Fu…Kyu, kyu. Fou," the critter chirped as Nero stared off into the forest with a concerningly-vacant expression on her face once more.

"Come on, Nero, say something," Mash muttered softly, but getting no response. She cleared her throat softly and tried again, speaking louder. "Nero? Are you alright?"

"Hmmm, what?" Nero said, blinking rapidly before looking at us. "No, I've decided. A triumphant return from the sea might not be so bad! We can go to that port I mentioned, and take a ship to investigate. After that, we'll continue our return journey through the ocean. I'm rather tired of traveling on land!" She declared.

"She spaced out again," I muttered softly to Jeanne. While Mordred was nearby, she didn't exactly have a high opinion of the Emperor of Roses.

"I see. So, this is what Boudica must have meant," the Maid of Orléans murmured back, her turquoise eyes sympathetic as she gazed at Nero. "Doctor Roman, did your machines detect anything from her just now?"

"Yes, there was definitely a trace a magical energy in Nero just now. However, it could just mean that she has the potential to be a mage," Roman said quietly, not wanting to draw the attention of the person in question just yet. Thankfully, she seems to have been suitably distracted with her decision she had just made.

"All right, then it's settled! It's been a while since I last commanded a vessel, but it's good to travel by sea. Umu, Ritsuka, Jacob, let me show you my brilliant sailing skills!"

"I can't wait!" Ritsuka said, while I was smore reserved.

"I'm a bit worried," I muttered, though Nero didn't appear to have noticed, beaming a smile as bright as the sun.

"No need to be embarrassed. Umu, you're bad at hiding your feelings, huh?" Or maybe she did, but didn't take any insult from my statement of a lack of confidence in the validity of her skill?

"The emperor is amazing! Whatever you say, she interprets it in a positive way!"

…Maybe everything will work out fine?

Me and my big, fat mouth…

"Geeze, Rits," I remarked, rubbing a hand up and down my friend's back weakly as he leaned against the railing of the small liburna we had boarded with a dozen of Nero's guards. The others had been left behind to guard the port and treat their injured comrades for the time being. "I didn't know you suffered from seasickness."

"Y-Yeah…lucky m-urgh!" His words were cut off as another wave of nausea overwhelmed him. Still, it was interesting to see his attempt at sarcasm. Out of the two of us, I was the one typically giving out such remarks. I must be starting to rub off on him or something. I withdrew my hand to allow Mash to take over, noticing the protective expression on her face even as she was fighting off her own nauseous.

Ritsuka, Mash, and I, along with some of the more bolder Servants like Mordred and Marie, stood near the prow of the vessel, while Nero steered the ship from the rear, all the while acting like an admiral. Part of me wondered if Ritsuka's seasickness had less to do with the normal causes of the nauseous ailment, and more as a result of Nero's…captaining.

Somehow, somehow, she was managing to force the swift vessel we were riding to perform near-impossible maneuvers, having personally taken control of the rudder and ordering for the oars to be stowed. When I had asked why, the Emperor of Roses had said that she wished to display her skill at the helm, with only her hands and the wind to guide her.

Needless to say, it was certainly an experience.

Just one that I could have done without.

"Master," Mordred groaned, tightly gripping the railing under her gauntlets to the point that the wood began splintering. "I think I'm going to have to kill that brat if she keeps this up."

"No murdering our allies," I said sternly, and Mordred huffed in annoyance. "Look on the bright side, I think we're almost there," I said hopefully, pointing a finger up ahead to the rapidly-approaching beach.

"Umu, I see our destination is just ahead! Most wonderful timing indeed, for I have just had a moment of inspiration for a song!" Nero cried out in child-like joy. Having not heard her singing, I wasn't sure about what to expect, but the sudden, stony expressions on the faces of Nero's accompanying guard certainly weren't ominous.

No, not at all ominous…

"Worst…boat ride…ever," I growled, resisting the urge to cry out my frustration as I stood on my shaky legs that were adjusting to being on dry land, all while my ears were still ringing. Next to me, Mordred was cursing up a storm, while on the other side, the near-constantly polite Jeanne had a troubled expression on her lips as she rubbed the palm of one hand against her right ear gingerly.

If I had thought that Nero's boating skills were of dubious quality, they were far superior to her singing! No one had escaped with their hearing unscathed. I couldn't speak for the others, but for me, the best way I could describe it was as if a foghorn had mated with an angle grinder, and then was strapped to the back of the most pissed-off donkey in the world. I had a feeling Amadeus might have used harsher words, if it weren't for the near-catatonic state he had fallen into, being assisted by his close friend Marie off of the vessel.

"Umu, that was some nice wind!" A completely unrepentant Nero chirped cheerfully. "It was the most aggressive voyage ever!"

"Thank goodness my semicircular canals were enhanced. If I hadn't become a Demi-Servant…" Mash's face took on a queasy expression and she shuddered slightly. "Ugh…I'm not going to go there," she said as my commlink went off.

"Yes?"

"Y-You all seem to have gone through an ordeal. I could tell by your vitals. The soldiers couldn't leave either. Oh, poor men! Since the emperor offered to take the wheel herself, I thought she had impeccable skills. But wait, maybe, just maybe! Those were impeccable skills, in a sense," Roman suggested, and I stared at the wrist-strapped device incredulously. What in the hell is he trying to say?

"Doc?" I asked warily.

"I mean, the ship's still standing after such a rocky journey. It also leapt through waves, and drifted some turns…it's amazing when you think about it. Just what you'd expect of the emperor."

"Don't be stupid," I said with a scoff. Good grief, talk about having a case of the rose-tinted glasses. He gave off yet another one of his sheepish bouts of laughter.

"Oh c'mon Jacob, you didn't get mads, did you?" Instead of speaking, I decided to let my silence serve as my reply. Chaldea's acting-director finally coughed awkwardly, dropping the idea that Nero was good with boating. "Anyways, what's important is that you guys landed safely on the rumored island. You should start looking for this ancient—"

"We have someone approaching," Gilles called out, having been the first one off the boat and being an advance scout of sorts while the rest of us recovered from this unexpected ordeal.

'Wait, maybe we don't have to look after all? It seems the god is coming to greet us,"

 Doctor Roman said at the same time, though his voice adopted a warning tone. "However, I am detecting a Servant. Be on your guard."

"Wait, another enemy attack? So this island is also under the yoke of the United Empire," Nero said with a curse, drawing her sword as Mordred and the others summoned their own weapons (well, everyone but Amadeus, that is).

"No, this is…a Servant, but…something's off," the good doctor replied, and I could imagine him squinting at his display right now with a furrowed brow based off of his tone. "It's different than normal, what is this?" A girlish laughed echoed around us, as a young girl stepped forward. She had light purple hair and eyes, and wore a white dress with dark trimming, and some odd bits of jewelry on her arms, though the most odd thing about her had to be the multi-color circle hovering around her head, like an angel's halo flipped on it's side. She looked to be around the age of eleven, but looks can be deceiving, especially when it comes to matters involving Servants.

"Yes, that's right. I'm not a 'normal' Servant," the Servant said cheerfully. "Good day, heroes. Welcome to my humble temporary home for this era, the 'Shaped' Isle."