9

Chapter 9: Interlude 2 Night 2Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Atalanta's efforts to avoid the many eyes of Assassin of Red slow her movements, but even so she remains the swift huntress, able to evade detection and enter the forests surrounding Trista before dusk falls. From there, finding the trail of Berserker and Rider is simple enough- while Rider may have had some subtlety, Berserker had simply barged through all obstacles, leaving fallen trees and broken boulders in his wake.

As dark began to fall, she finally reaches where Achilles is perched, observing Berserker finally reach and plow through the ranks of Black's golems and homunculi.

"Yo, Ane-san. Glad you could make it, if barely."

Atalanta lands silently on the tree branch Achilles is crouched, failing to disturb the branch or even rustle the leaves.

"You couldn't stop him?"

"Nah, didn't even make an attempt. Trying to stop Berserker is a waste of time, after all. Best just let him get it out of his system now and hope he opens a window for us in the process."

"...I may have had more luck, given my skill with wild beasts, but looking at him now it does seem the only way to have stopped him would have been to put an arrow through his knee and be done with it."

Both Grecian heroes watch as the golems and homunculi are violently torn to pieces, and Berserker continues to charge onward, still laughing and ranting about oppressors.

"Did you find anything out? You took a while, but don't seem hurt. I guess it wasn't a trap."

"It was no trap. Both White and Ruler were open, honestly too open. In any case, it seems that the Priest has likely received the Command Seals of our Masters after having Assassin enchant them. There was also some information about the Grail itself that-" Atalanta senses movement and cuts herself off. "-that can come later. It seems we've been noticed."

"Yeah, got it. Hopefully this is just fun!"

The two Servants summon their respective weapons; Atalanta withdrawing backwards and up, into the dark canopy of the forest while Achilles let himself fall from the tree, landing lightly on the forest floor. From there, Achilles could see two figures slowly advancing on him.

"Two, eh? Well Black, I hope you put up as much of a challenge as White."

As the two figures break the tree line, Achilles identifies one as the Saber of Black from the morning. The other is unfamiliar; a small girl in white, carrying a giant mace and softly growling. He raises his spear towards Saber.

"Saber. That's your Berserker there, right? You managed to fight White's Master pretty evenly, and almost hurt Archer." The forest seemed to ignite from Achilles' sudden blood-lust. "I will enjoy this."

All thoughts outside of combat, about Atalanta's message or about his own Master are swept aside, as the two sides leap forwards, swinging mace and spear and sword.

-

Rider of Red laughs mocking as he deflects two simultaneous blows from Saber and Berserker with a single spin of his short spear, then lands an easy kick on Berserker's stomach that sends her flying away, into and through a distant tree.

"Come on, come on, why are you so weak?!"

With Berserker temporarily out of the fight, Rider is able to concentrate his full skill on Siegfried. A succession of stabs lance out at Siegfried, skirting off the Dragon Armor of Fafnir without drawing a drop of blood. The one blow Siegfried lands on Rider in return, a glancing blow to his unarmored arm, similarly fails to break the skin.

"You, Saber. You hurt the Master of White when you went after Archer, so why are you so weak now? I expected more from you than this sorry performance!"

Siegfried does not reply. He would not explain the nature of White's Master, nor his own dragonslaying nature, to an enemy. Mentally, he can feel his Master 'muttering' something, trying to piece together something but he cannot spare the thought required to attend his Master's words, not with Rider probing his defences with the same bloodthirsty grin on his face.

A burst of lighting behind him tells him that Berserker has rallied herself and is charging back into the fray. Again, they try to coordinate against Rider, and again he twists through and around their strikes, and with a mocking chuckle lands an open-palm blow on Berserker that sends her skidding away, before once more turning his focus on Saber. Rider, it seems, had either identified Saber as the more worthwhile combatant, or the prior attempt on Archer of Red's life had angered him.

"...you surly bastard. You aren't talking or laughing; you aren't even having fun- not back then, not now. You just gloomily fight when your Master tells you, doing whatever he wants. A Familiar, not a Hero, that's what you are."

The words do not break Siegfried's composure or make him stumble, but they do land.

What also lands, in time with Rider's last sentence, is an arrow flying far faster than the speed of sound, smashing into Siegfried's shoulder and sending him tumbling head over heels backwards into the ground.

-

Siegfried can, as he stumbles to his feet, hear his head ringing. A glance at his shoulder gives him a clear view of the blood seeping from the arrow wound. This...was going to be a problem. A shadow appeared in front of him, as Berserker leaps forwards and smashed away the arrow that had been launched to follow up. Distantly, he can hear Rider of Red's voice.

"-come on, I'm trying to aveng-"

Siegfried puts Rider of Red's words out of his mind and looks to Berserker. Silently, they communicate. Archer of Red, able to launch attacks at extreme range and with immense precision, could hurt Saber while out of sight and range of the Black Servants. That meant the fight had to change; if Rider of Red was left to hold back both Saber and Berserker, while letting Archer of Red wear down Saber then the battle was lost. Berserker had shown themselves unable to engage Rider of Red, and all parties involved knew it, but Saber himself could at least stall Rider of Red. Meaning, Berserker would have to take care of Archer of Red, while Saber delayed Rider of Red.

'Servant! Servant!'

And now his Master was contacting him, urgently.

'It's Achilles! A Greek hero wielding a spear and shield, with invulnerable skin like yours! Achilles! His heel is his weakness! Don't bother using your Noble Phantasm unless you get rid of that shield! It can defend against Excalibur, a blade equal to your Balmung.'

A burst of understanding and relief. Now there's a chance. A slim one; Achilles has proven himself to be more skilled than Saber and would certainly defend his weakness at all costs, but a chance nonetheless- and heroes grasp at one in a million chances almost by definition.

As the Black Servants prepare to move, and Rider of Red turns back towards them, there's a change in the air behind them. Berserker of Red has been severed from his Master.

"So, we're down a Berserker. I guess that makes it 6 on 6 now, if what the Priest said about your Assassin is true. Still, why don't we take your Berserker's head now to make things simpler."

As Rider of Red, no, Achilles launches himself at Berserker, Siegfried leaps forward himself, trusting his future to Berserker. His charge is, of course, seen coming by Achilles, who contemptuously deflects Siegfried's sword and lands another blow on the Dragon Armor, but that was all that was needed. With Achilles' attention pulled towards Siegfried for a split-second, Berserker surges with lighting and disengages, aiming to find and eliminate Archer of Red while the two invincible warriors fight each other.

"Ah, I see. Almost clever, though I've seen it before. But from what I've seen of your Berserker, she isn't up there with the White Faction's Master. You really underestimate Archer if you think a third-rate Servant like that is a threat to her, one of the most brilliant heroes of mankind. In the meantime...let's see if I can work out how to hurt you..."

-

Atalanta, perched on a distant branch, see the white-clad Berserker disengage from Achilles and charge in her direction. Remembering Achilles' pleading to be the one to fight Saber, Atalanta lets the shot she had readied for Saber fall, instead focusing in on the incoming Berserker. The Berserker is charging forwards at speeds that would have been swift for an average Servant, likely boosted by some Noble Phantasm or Skill. Atalanta, though, is no average Servant, especially in regard to speed. She had only met one opponent this War who it seemed might be able to outpace her, and the incoming Berserker was not him.

'This scenario again, where the enemy again tries to split up. Except this time, rather than someone on his level they send a Berserker against me. Are they underestimating me?'

She draws, nocks and fires four arrows, two at a time, all aimed at each of Berserker's limbs. The arrows cut through the forest, piercing the trees and foliage between Berserker and Atalanta. Unlike last night, these arrows fly true; while Berserker, with almost animal-like intuition, seems to feel the shots coming and manages to swing her mace she only manages to catch the first pair of arrows, the trailing two shots land- one tearing through her arm at the right shoulder, the other blasting through her leg, right above the knee, leaving the limb only barely attached.

'And now this is over.'

Atlanta's coup de grace shot is launched towards the core of the crippled Berserker-

And is intercepted by an arrow out of nowhere!

"What?! That's absurd!"

-

Far away, on distant battlements, Chiron launches shot after shot into the distant forest, alternating between harassing Achilles, and defending Berserker. As he did so, the tension that he surely would have to be feeling absent from his face, he speaks to his Master beside him.

"Master, please have the Masters of Berserker and Saber order their retreat. I will do my best to cover their withdrawal."

"Very well, I'll inform Grandfather."

Thankfully, Achilles and Archer of Red seem to quickly decide that they should withdraw, now that both sides had an 'invincible' shield and a ranged supported capable of harming the opposing shield- a single cut runs along Achilles' face, from Chiron's opening volley, and he can see Achilles laughing in glee at the possibility of someone else able to harm him.

'That boy…'

Still, Berserker had been badly maimed and would need time to heal. Saber had, by contrast, only taken a single wound and was now moving towards his Master in order to...wait, was that Rider of Black and the homunculus? Oh dear. Jumping from his perch, Chiron moves to join his Master. He has a feeling that things were going to become...complicated.

-

The nameless homunculus feels Rider's hand tighten on his as they rounded a tree and see two unfamiliar figures before them- a panting man in white, and a silver-haired figure in armor.

"Rider. What are you doing with that homunculus? Leave him to me and return to the castle to explain yourself!"

"Nope."

Rider's reply to the man in white is instantaneous, causing the man to gnash his teeth in fury and gesture to the armor-clad man beside him.

"Saber, restrain Rider."

"Wait, wait, hold on what? Just like that? Are you seriou-"

Without a word, 'Saber' steps towards Rider. The difference in power was overwhelming; in an instant, Saber grabs Rider's arm and neck, holding him in place while ignoring Rider's thrashing legs and shouts of protest. The sudden burst of violence breaks Rider's hold on the homunculus' hand and knocks him backwards, onto the ground.

"Let me go, Saber!"

"Honestly, that Darnic. How dare he send me on a mundane task like this! Just because Berserker is hurt and the others are dealing with that brute…"

The homunculus can hear the mutterings of the man in white as he draws closer, bending down to grab the thin, emaciated wrist of the homunculus.

"You've been enough trouble; Caster's going to make use of you, grind you up and stick you in a golem. Maybe then you'll have some value and repay us for the time and effort you've made us waste."

'I'll be...used? Ground up?'

"You moron, what are you doing sitting there! Don't give up! You want to live, right?"

Rider is still restrained, but his voice can still reach the homunculus. Acting on an instinct he did not know he possessed, the nameless homunculus activates his circuits and grabs at the chest of the man in white.

"Straße...gehen!"

"Wha-! Anamorphism eisen arm!"

As the man in white blocks the homonulus' outstretched hand with his arms, the barked spell transforms those arms to metal, disrupting the power the homunculus had instinctively unleashed towards the man's heart.

"You...you scum! You, a homunculus, tried to kill me! How dare you!"

The man in white raises his metallic arms, and then the homunculus feels pain.

-

Saber of Black stands silent, holding Rider of Black as his Master begins to pummel the withered and emaciated body of the homunculus.

"Saber, stop him! Stop your Master! This isn't how a hero is supposed to…"

("A Familiar, not a Hero, that's what you are.")

'I want to...save someone of my own will.'

Saber lets Rider fall free and moves to put his hand on his Master's shoulder.

"Stop, Master."

Mid-punch, Saber feels his Master stiffen and turn to him, eyes wide in disbelief and fury. Siegfried had chosen to ignore his Master's command to restrain Rider and was instead confronting his own Master. As his Master prepares to speak, a burst of air almost sends him spinning as Rider appears by the side of the homunculus. His Master rounds on Rider in anger, but manages to restrain himself and drag his attention back towards Siegfried.

"What did you say, Saber?"

"I said stop." But now that Siegfried has looked closer, it's clear that simply stopping his Master will not save the homunculus. "Might you not heal him and let him go?"

"What are you saying, Servant!?"

Gordes voice and expression twitch in anger, and he looks down at the mangled chest of the homunculus.

"Did you not see it try to kill me just then? Why should we heal it, let alone let it go?"

"I appeal to your good nature. Surely it would not disadvantage us so greatly to let a single homunculus leave our side?"

""It would not disadvantage us"? When our opposition includes that Lancer of Red, Achilles, King Arthur and that fake Master? Our opposition has all the strength the Clock Tower can muster, and you believe that-"

Angrily, his Master cuts himself off with a shake of his head. "No. Just shut up and be quiet."

"Master, please reconsi-"

"Shut up!" Siegfried's words are cut off by Gordes' sudden burst of fury. "Shut up shut up! You're my Servant, aren't you?! A familiar doesn't get to give it's master opinions! So far, you've managed to somehow reveal yourself against White, were useless against Achilles even after I worked out his identity, defied my orders with Rider and now you're trying to change my mind, after you show that you're a failure of a Servant unable to accomplish even the simple of orders of 'shut up and be quiet'? If you can't follow my orders willingly, then you'll follow them unwillingly!"

In shock, Siegfried can see the first of the Command Seals on his Master's hand glow red.

"Stand there and be silent! Don't even move until I say otherwise!"

Notes:

Whelp.

More seriously, when I came into this story I intended for Sieg to live and join up (his "learning to live" experience was going to be a parallel for some other characters hmmmmm). And then I went and, apparently without really thinking, wrote Chapter 3 and Interlude 1. Interlude 1 especially was the real problem; I had Gordes and Siegfried explicitly identify the nationality of Rider of Red (though not his full identity) through his Greek-World shield. I maybe should have held off on posting that when ill to check it over more. And while I could have gone back to rejigger the events of the previous chapters/interlude, that's kind of against the point of this story where things can go not-as-expected.

So, my actual narrative plans are pretty fucked and I'm having to do a fairly complete rework of what I had drawn up, which should be interesting if somewhat aggravating.