chpater 6

Chapter Text

"It's getting closer!"

"Really? I couldn't tell!" I snapped rather harshly. I instantly felt bad for using such a tone towards my fellow Master, but right now wasn't the best time to shout out obvious advice. We approached the castle, and paused by the hole in the front wall. "I'm sorry about that, Rits," I said, turning to my friend.

"It's ok. I think we're all on edge right now," Ritsuka said, and I gave me a weak grin in response. I then turned to the others.

"Mordred, Jeanne, Mash, you'll follow Ritsuka and I. Everyone else, get ready," I instructed before we moved into the castle.

It took us about five minutes or so of wandering around the darkened corridors before suddenly Mash, who had taken point, cried out happily.

"There you are!" Mash exclaimed between Ritsuka and I in clear relief. I squinted my eyes at the hidden figure. It was a tall figure with a long, two-handed sword. A faint light blue glow emanated from his body. Suddenly, the figure moved towards us.

"One…after another…" He said in a baritone-like voice, swinging his sword towards Mash. Mordred shoved me to the side, somewhat gently thankfully, and blocked the sword strike with Clarent.

"Mordred! Don't kill him, we need him alive," I reminded the battle-hungry blonde. However, it seems that I wouldn't have to worry about a fight breaking out, as I could see Mordred take a half-step backwards. I was able to see a gleam of surprise and recognition in her eyes as the Servant lowered his own sword.

"Saber of Black?!? What's this, a Greater Grail War reunion?" I heard her mutter to herself in wonder. The Servant took a half-step closer, moving in a non-threatening manner as he stepped into the light. He had long, silvery hair, and greenish-blue eyes. His sword was indeed a simple two-handed design that had the scars of war marking the blade. He had silvery shoulder guards and gauntlets, but yet he bore no breastplate, or even a proper shirt, revealing a well-toned chest chiseled from rock. The two most eye-catching features about the Servant before us was the arcane marking that trailed up his chest to the side of his face that seemed to pulsate a light blue, the same blue that had been glowing earlier, and a wound that he was now pressing a hand to.

Jeanne gasped slightly at the sight. "What a terrible wound," I heard her say from behind. The mysterious Servant didn't respond to that, however, eyes locked onto my Saber, confused.

"Do I know you?" He asked Mordred. She shook her head.

"Not unless you are secretly a homunculus pretending to be a Heroic Spirit. We were supposed to be opponents in a Grail War, but that's something to deal with later," the Knight of Rebellion said in a rather guarded tone. I could see her desire to challenge him to a duel, perhaps, but thankfully she hadn't forgotten what was at stake. Ritsuka shot me a questioning look, which I shrugged.

Note to self: Get Mordred to explain what the hell happened in her Grail War.

"Please wait," Jeanne implored, stepping forward and standing next to Mordred. "We are on your side. Or, at the very least, we have no desire to bring any more harm upon you." The Servant opened his mouth to speak when the building trembled.

"At any rate, please hurry!" Mash said rather frantically, gesturing with her free hand the way we came in. "A dragon is approaching, along with several Servants. We're at an overwhelming disadvantage here-"

The Servant gripped his sword once more. Instead of trying to swing at us again, however, he walked closer, an intense look in his eyes as he stared past us. "A dragon, huh," he remarked. "I see. That's why I was summoned and then attacked." Mash nodded eagerly, happy to see progress.

"We'll help you, let's get out of here!" The dragon-slayer nodded, and we turned around, rushing back out into the open. We were immediately greeted by a panicking Marie. The sounds of thunderous wings was all around us. Winds created by each movement of wings whipped around us. The dragon was almost here.

"We gotta hurry…" my voice trailed off as a massive shadow moved over us as a massive bulk swooped down, landing before us.

The ground trembled as four massive, clawed, scaley feet landed in the town clearing square. A long, muscular black tail swished back and forth, caving in the remaining walls of the buildings behind the trunk of a body. A pervasive sense of dread filled my body, threatening to crush my spirits utterly as I gazed at a death incarnate. Bright orange eyes leered at us with pure malice. The dragon's jaws hung slightly open, revealing row upon row of razor-sharp fangs the size of daggers.

Leering down at us was Jeanne Alter. A saddle of sorts had been made that rested at the base of her dragon's neck, truly fitting for the Dragon Witch. She let out a short bark of cruel laughter as her gaze swept across our party.

"I was wondering what you found," the fallen saint admitted, smiling wickedly. "Turns out it's just another dying Servant. Very well, you can all die together!" As Jeanne Alter shouted those final words, she pressed her heels against the sides of her mount, who reared its massive head up and roared, drowning out the shouting our Servants were making around us.

As the dragon moved, a hysterical part of my mind replayed a memory of a book my mom had read to me as a child before bed. A massive dragon boasting about his invincibility against any threat to a small thief made invisible by a ring of power.

I kill when I wake. I am strong, strong, STRONG! My armor is like tenfold shields. My teeth are like swords, my claws spears. The shock of my tail, a thunderbolt! My wings a hurricane, and my breath death

I snapped out of it when I noticed that Mash had pushed past me, and was now standing between the dragon and us, her massive shield slamming into the ground as she braced her body.

"Mash?" Ritsuka asked, concerned, a sentiment I shared. While I hadn't gotten to experience it due to Mordred and I dealing with the corrupt Archer during Singularity F, Ritsuka had told me about Mash's Noble Phantasm, Lord Chaldea, and how it was a protective force field in a way. But because we couldn't test it before Rayshifting, we had no idea what its limits were.

"What are you doing?" I asked as Jeanne joined her, gripping the lower section of her weapon as she stared defiantly at the monster.

"Mash, we'll do it together!" Mash nodded nervously.

"R-Right!" She replied with a slight stammer. To her credit though, she did not lose her determination held in her eyes.

"Incinerate them, Fafnir!" Jeanne Alter shouted as the dragon opened its jaws. I saw a faint glow begin to form at the back of its mouth, undoubtedly the heralding of dragon fire.

"Luminosite-" Jeanne began to say, unfurling her banner and holding it aloft. Her Noble Phantasm. She hadn't told us what it was, but considering her current actions, it must be some sort of defensive one like Mash's. Next to her, Mash began powering up her own Noble Phantasm.

"Deploying Virtual Noble Phantasm!" A brick-like structure of ethereal blue energy appeared before the two, while light shined from Jeanne's banner.

"Eternelle!" Jeanne shouted, just in time. I felt a something akin to a warm embrace surround us as the dragon unleashed its trademark attack, bright orange flames lunging towards us. I was unable to tear my eyes away from the roaring fire, even as Mordred dragged me behind her as if to act as a final shield should the two Noble Phantasm fail.

Thankfully, when the fire slammed into the phantom wall, it was unable to break through, furious branches of fire being deflected to the sides of the barrier as it moved around, pushing ferociously against that which denied it access.

The air was now dry, a testament to the intensity of dragon fire. "Kya!" Marie shrieked instinctively as the temperature rose rapidly as the dragon continued to breath torrents of fire at us. I silently prayed that Jeanne and Mash would manage to maintain the barrier for as long as possible.

My commlink went off and I activated it. "Whoa! What an immense amount of energy! You all right?!? Can you guys hear me?" Doctor Roman practically shouted as flames continued to press against the Noble Phantasms of Jeanne and Mash. "S-Say something!" I growled brought the device up to my mouth.

"Doctor, if you do not have anything helpful to say at this moment, then please stop talking!" I hissed. Thankfully the doctor fell silent at the rebuke. I'll apologize for my tone later…presuming there will be a later. Right now, we can't afford to be distracted. I had no idea how much longer Jeanne and Mash could maintain the protective barrier, nor if they would be able to repeat the feat a second time without rest. Even then, we can't just stay here and try to tank the dragon fire. We needed to escape. I racked my mind, trying to come up with something, anything.

Jeanne grunted, sweat dripping off of her brow. "Just as I thought, this is.." Whatever the Ruler thought 'it' was, she didn't say. My heart skipped a beat at seeing Mash falter next to her, looking even more worse for wear despite being untouched by the attack.

"I can't hold on anymore, it's no use!" The Demi-Servant cried out in panic, and sure enough the wall-like projection she had manifested was starting to flicker in and out of existence. We had seconds at best to come up with a plan…

"No," our mysterious Servant said. It looks like you made it." Sure enough, Fafnir ceased spitting out fire, letting out a displeased hiss. Was it just me, or was it staring intently at the one Mordred had dubbed 'Servant of Black'? "Thanks to you, my power is restored a little."

"Huh?" Jeanne asked in confusion, voicing my inner thoughts at that statement. The Servant didn't reply, walking past the two female Servants that had been protecting us. He stopped and stared at the dragon, gripping the hilt of his sword.

"It's been a while, Evil Dragon Fafnir. If you've been resurrected, I will send you back to your slumber," he said as he raised his sword. To my shock, the powerful dragon actually recoiled at the action, spreading out its leathery, bat-like wings as if it was preparing to take flight. I could swear that I could see a mixture of anger, hatred, and more importantly, fear, blazing in its eyes. Even Jeanne Alter was taken aback, and for the first time since we first crossed paths, I could see concern on her features.

"Hear me, One Who Rules the Blue Sky! My name is Siegfried! He who once defeated thee!" As Siegfried said those words, I turned to the others. Mordred stared expectantly at her fellow Saber, undoubtedly knowing what he was about to do.

"I think he is about to unleash his Noble Phantasm. Get ready to leave this city. We'll run as far as we can without stopping until we can't run anymore," I said hurriedly, activating my Magic Circuits and flooding my legs with prana, with the intent of being able to keep up with our Servants as best we can. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Ritsuka nodding while doing something similar, while Marie summoned her mount, a mare made of clear glass.

"Noble Phantasm, Release!" Siegfried intoned, preparing to swing his sword as light blue energy covered the blade.

"Bal-mung!" He roared as he swung the sword, sending a wave of energy less wild than Clarent Blood Arthur, but no less potent. The attack smashed into Fafnir, who screeched in pain. Jeanne Alter was nearly thrown from her saddle. Fury distorted her facial features as she recovered her seating.

"Damnit!" She cursed. "Fafnir, climb up now!" We braced ourselves from the violent gusts of wind created as the black dragon began flapping its wings, taking to the air. It let out a furious roar that screamed of vengeance, but that was something to worry about later. We had gotten a reprieve for now.

Siegfried fell to one knee, leaning against his sword as he panted heavily, one hand pressing against the wound he bore. "Sorry," he said as Mordred and I hurried over. "This is the best I can do. You must leave before they come back," he said as he finally managed to stand back up on his own. I nodded rapidly, turning to the others.

"You heard the dragon slayer. We go now!"

"Damn Servant," Jeanne Alter cursed high in the sky, unable to lash out at anything or anyone to release on her building anger. Behind and to either side of her dragon, the two Servants accompanying her kept their distance as they rode their own wyverns. "It's dangerous. Considering what it to come, I can't exhaust Fafnir. That blasted sword must not be allowed to become a problem!"

Scowling, the fallen Ruler urged her mount to slow down, and her two Servants guided their mounts so that the smaller wyverns were hovering to either side of her. She turned to the one on her right, a knight in full, black armor, red light shining out of the visor of his helmet. Then she looked at the other one, a man with a nonchalant expression on his features as one hand gripped the wyvern he rode on and the other clutched a massive sword with a rounded projection at the tip.

"Berserker, Assassin. That 'Dragon Slayer' is the target. Hunt him down. Crush him, and break that sword of his. Berserker Assassin will come assist you. Kill all in your path," Jeanne Alter ordered. Without a word, the two Servants bowed their heads in acknowledgment of their task, before breaking off to begin their hunt.

"Come, Fafnir," she said soothingly, running a hand along the evil dragon's side. "We return to Orléans. I have much to discuss with Gilles." Her dragon rumbled in acknowledgement and increased his speed, leaving the fallen Ruler to her thoughts in silence.

We had been running for thirty minutes or so. Jeanne, Mash, Siegfried, Ritsuka, and I were towards the rear, having exerted the most energy in the ruins of Lyon. Mordred and Medea brought up the rear, the latter because of mediocre stamina outside of casting spells, the former as the true rearguard for any purser. In the lead was Marie, still astride her horse and the least winded of the party.

My lungs were burning, and I slowed down. Marie looked over her shoulder and wheeled her horse about, bringing the others to a halt. Glad that we had stopped, I sat down, gulping down deep breaths of air. The remains of Lyon were barely visible. Grabbing my water canteen, I unscrewed the lid and took a deep drink of water. Mordred and the other Servants formed a defensive circle around Ritsuka and I while we rested.

Ritsuka, being less drained due to not engaging in a BS zombie horde slaughter, activated his commlink. "Doctor, are you getting any readings coming towards us?"

"I am not detecting the ultra-sized lifeform anymore. But there are still enemies near your position! I don't know if they're aware of your presence or not, but you gotta keep moving," the acting director tried to urge us.

"Senpai, I want a horse," Mash whined softly to Ritsuka, staring jealously at Marie's mount. The Rider smiled apologetically to the Demi-Servant.

"Sorry, this is a one-seater."

"We…we can't just go on running," I said. "The dragon is no longer nearby. I say we fight back," I said.

"I agree," Ritsuka said in quick agreement. Mash gave a more reluctant nod.

"I suppose so, in that case…"she said before Jeanne called out to us.

"I see something up ahead," Jeanne reported. I groaned as I force my tired muscles to push me back onto my feet, and I walked over gingerly to the saint, my fellow Master close behind. "It's the French army!"

"Looks like they have company," I remarked grimly, pointing at the various shapes circling and swooping down on the mass of figures Jeanne was pointing towards.

"They're being attacked by wyverns," Jeanne responded, biting her lower lip. I remembered that a number of those soldiers had probably been her brothers-in-arms when she was alive, and that one of her closest comrades was leading the remnants of the army. "We need to go help them," she said, staring at me pleadingly. I nodded firmly as the other Servants joined us.

"Mordred, you ready to take down some wyverns?" I asked, and the knight nodded back with one of her more typical blood-thirsty grins.

"You better believe it, Master." I nodded and turned to Ritsuka.

"Let's allow for Mordred, Jeanne, Sasaki, and Chulainn handle assisting the French. We'll move in closer but keep our distance," I suggested, a bit reluctantly. While I don't like sending Servants off to fight and not be right behind them, at this point my exhaustion would make me more of a liability for the Servants. Therefore, I have to take this time to recover some of my stamina. Ritsuka nodded back in understanding.

"Let's go be heroes then."

Chapter Text

Caught on two sides, the forces that had been harassing the French men-at-arms and knights were scattered rather swiftly. For the most part, we kept our distance from the French, not wanting to risk provoking the men into attack us. Of course, some of the enemy forces had turned their attentions onto us, but Mordred and Mash had taken care of that.

"I think that's it, Master," Mordred said, flicking her blade clean of blood from some zombies that had made their way over to us. Jeanne was still engaging wyverns and the undead, fighting closer to the French army, but she seemed to have things in hand. I nodded at her before activating my commlink.

"Doctor, we are wrapping up-" I fell silent suddenly, a sense of unease floating around my body. Standing next to me, I saw that Ritsuka had had a similar sensation. Mordred pushed me behind her once more before I could turn around, her helmet snapping back into place, though a cold fury was present in her eyes for the briefest of seconds.

Turning around, I saw that we had company. If I were a betting man, the two figures before us were both Servants. The way they arrived was clear, as was their allegiance. Behind them hovered two red wyverns, dread wyverns if I was remembering what Mash had told me earlier. Tougher and more resilient than the more common green ones. My attention, however, was more focused on the two figures facing us, not their mounts.

One of them was a man wielding a two-handed sword that looked more like the kind used for beheadings rather than combat. He wore a black trench coat of sorts, with silvery bars and two stylized horse heads on each shoulder.

It was the other figure who I quickly came to realize was the one responsible for the aura of dread I had felt mere seconds earlier.

The figure was masculine-looking, encased in pitch-black armor, and an armet-style helmet covering his facial features. A reddish light seemed to glow behind the eye slits of the helmet, and from the back of the helmet trails a long and thing stream of horsehair dyed a royal purple. His black armor bored countless numbers of scratches and dents, a testament to a veteran warrior of many battles. In his right hand, he gripped a long, metal rod that was covered with red veins of what I presumed to be latent energy. In front of me, I felt Mordred tensed, and I felt a sense of anger coming off of her body.

Had we encountered another Servant she had fought against? I wanted to ask, but another voice prevented me from doing so. The lone male Caster of our group gasped before walking up, pointing a clawed figure at the newcomers that was trembling.

"Damn you!" Mozart spat the words out with such anger, such vitriol that I took a step back. The Caster was staring at the unarmored Servant, eyes blazing with fury. Next to her, Marie sighed, smiling sadly as she rested a comforting hand on her friend's shoulder.

"My, what a coincidence. I've never forgotten your face, you lazy artisan," she said rather mischievous considering the sad smile still present. The man grinned slightly in response, nodding his head.

"That's good to hear. I've never forgotten yours either. Your face, and your pale white neck." Aaaaaand we have another creepy Servant opposing us. Did I forget to check my horoscope this morning or something? "At the same time, I feel like this is destiny. That you and I share a special connection," the Servant said in a nonchalant manner. He gestured at her with his sword. "Don't we? The fate of an executioner killing the same person twice, I feel like only we share that kind of connection." His words only caused the scowl on Amadeus's face to deepen as he stared in disgust.

"Not only in life, but even now you're eager to execute Marie? Charles-Henri Sanson. Could it be that you are genuinely mad?" He demanded, while also revealing our opponent's True Name. The Assassin scoffed at that.

"As a human, it pains me to discuss our relationship with a low-life like you. Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, you claimed all lives, all humans, are filthy. Not I. Humans are sacred, precious things. That is the reason why we executioners respect life. We are incompatible, you and I. Trash who couldn't even love humans, trash who couldn't understand her, has no right to be next to her," Sanson sneered, raising his sword, while Amadeus readied his own weapon.

"ARRRRTTTTTHHUUUUUUUR!" His companion, however, was the first one to attack. The demonic-looking knight lunged forward, targeting neither Ritsuka or I, or even Siegfried, but Mordred. The former growled and crouched down slightly, swinging Clarent as the Berserker (for that must surely be a Berserker Class Servant) slammed his own weapon downwards.

I watch with shock as Mordred was forced to one knee as she struggled to keep her sword over her head. "Damn it!" She snarled, and lashed out with her right hand, briefly gripping Clarent with one hand while slamming the back of her gauntlet against her opponent's chest. The Berserker skidded backwards, before howling the name 'Arthur' again.

"So this is what the Peerless Knight Lancelot has been reduced to, huh?" Mordred sneered, her helmet still hiding her face from what was apparently one of her former comrades-in-arms. This was Lancelot? The knight Mordred had described to me as being a womanizer?

The maddened knight only howls like a beast in response, charging forward, his head focused on Mordred. My knight looked over at us for the briefest of moments. "Master, this one is mine, so stay out of it!" She warned before looking back and raising Clarent to block the blow her opponent was swinging around rather wildly.

I bit my lip, unable to help but refusing to respect Mordred's desire. Nearby, I could hear more sounds of steel ringing against steel, more grunts and groans. Turning my head slightly, I saw Chulainn dueling Sanson, while from either side, Medea and Amadeus casted spells at the two wyverns nearby, keeping them at bay. Good. We won't have to worry about the flying lizards for now then. But where was Jeanne?

"Jacob, look!" Mash's call drew my attention away from the fights going on before me, and instead to follow the direction of the Demi-Servant's hand. I gritted my teeth at what I saw. Jeanne was standing with her back to the French army, her flagstaff planted into the ground, as opposite her stood Carmilla, the Berserker Assassin we had encountered at La Charité.

I turned to my own Assassin. "Sasaki, support Jeanne. Try to use your Noble Phantasm on Berserker Assassin," I instructed. The sword-wielder nodded with a bored expression, though giving a brief look of longing at the fight between Mordred and Lancelot before sprinting forward, his massive sword drawn and trailing behind him.

I watch with narrowed eyes as I saw the cruel vampire Assassin taunt my temporary Servant as some wyverns hovered overhead, staring hungrily at the Maid of Orléans. I couldn't hear whatever words the two female Servants sent to one another, but I felt it was highly unlikely that they were complimenting one another's outfits, nor about the weather.

Suddenly, Carmilla waved a hand, and a wyvern broke off its dive on a group of soldiers moving away from the saint to attack Jeanne. The Ruler barely managed to dodge to the side when a loud boom echoed over the field. That's right, this was the very beginning of the age of black powder and cannons. The wyvern was struck by a round object in the chest, and was sent crashing into the ground before it finally began to dissolve into a cloud of purple and black dust. All fell silent for the briefest of moments as a new voice rang out as a man in armor appeared at the head of the battered army.

"Artillery, concentrate your fire on the dragons! Fire!" Even from a quarter of a mile away, I could hear the mounted man's voice, tinged with a heavy French accent. I squinted my eyes, making out silvery armor with green highlights, and thick black hair, but that was all. More clouds of thick white smoke appeared amidst the ranks of soldiers and knights, and sounds like thunder rolled over us. Wyverns began to drop out of the sky like ducks before a punt gun, struck by stone balls and metal arrows launched from the primitive but no less deadly cannons of the era.

I saw Berserker Assassin look up, undoubtedly in either shock, horror, or a mixture of both, while Sasaki finally finished closing the gap. I saw him blink briefly out of existence as he utilized his Noble Phantasm, somehow managing to produce three sword blades that would strike as one. At the last moment, Carmilla must have sensed the danger, for she ducks to the side.

The failed attack did, however, give Jeanne a chance to attempt to impale the female vampire, for she thrusted her flagpole without hesitation. I groaned in disappointment as I saw her somehow manage to block the strike before jumping over Sasaki's head, heading our way. Sasaki and Jeanne began to chase after her, but Carmilla somehow managed to widen the gap, rushing over and calling out to her two fellow Servants, scowling furiously.

"Retreat! Lancelot! Sanson!" Her fellow Assassin growled and deflected a thrust from Chulainn's spear before leaping backwards as Carmilla joined him by his side. Lancelot, however, howled again and threw himself at Mordred, threatening to break through her guard.

"it seems that knight has gotten his attention. Now what, Carmilla? Will he even listen to reason?" I could hear the exasperation dripping from Sanson's voice. The vampire pondered the situation for the moment, before shaking her head once.

"Retreat. We have no obligation to stay with a black knight that's lost his mind," the masked Servant sneered. "Lancelot! Buy us as much time as you can. Until the moment your life is extinguished!" Whether Mordred's old comrade had heard those words or not didn't matter, as the Berserker merely continued his unrelenting flurry of attacks.

Chulainn and Jeanne, the latter having just arrived from sprinting after the Berserker Assassin, tried in vain to prevent the escape of the two Assassins, who swiftly mounted their wyverns while using the one that must have belonged to Lancelot as a sacrificial lamb to delay their pursuers. In the few seconds it took the Lancer and the Ruler to dispatch their foe, the two enemy Servants were blurs in the sky, out of reach.

"Master, I know it would be a breach of conduct for a duel between knights, but we should-" Mash began to say before I raised a hand, cutting her and Ritsuka off, my gaze locked onto Mordred.

"No."

"But, Jacob Senpai, what if he defeats Mordred?" Mash asked worriedly. I shook my head firmly, narrowing my eyes.

"I don't think that is about to happen. Mordred is acting differently about this fight, and I don't think it is simply because she is fighting a former comrade from her life." The Saber was acting even more like a Berserker at times, being in a state of almost constant motion, lashing out not only with Clarent, but with her elbows, knees, and feet, throwing in the occasional bunch as well. The taller Berserker ducked and weaved as best as he could, but even then, some hits still connected. "I still have my Command Seals, too," I said, waving the hand bearing the two remaining red symbols.

The sounds of cannon fire had stopped, as had the shrieks and roars of the dwindling number of wyverns that had been in the air. However, all were focused on the death fight between the two knights.

I winced as Mordred took a hit to the side from Lancelot's weapon, though she appeared to have barely felt it in her own apparent rage. Her counterstrike saw Clarent striking against Lancelot's breastplate, giving the black metal a new, deep gouge.

Giving another distorted roar, King Arthur's most famous knight continued his assault, showing none of the elegance, skill, or technique I would have imagined from such a legendary knight. This, I realized, was one of the true costs of a Servant being summoned as a Berserker. Over the clashing of weapons, I could hear Mordred beginning to shout, Clarent locked against Lancelot's staff.

"Everyone blamed me for turning against the king. For bringing the end of Camelot. While I admit to being the final act, you started it, Lancelot! You killed Gareth and Gaheris! Worst of all, you betrayed the king!"

"ARTHURRRRRR!"

"Shut up! You don't have a right to say his name!" Mordred howled in response, slamming a fist into Lancelot's visor, sending the Berserker stumbling backwards. Still holding his rod in hand, however, he lashed out, forcing Mordred to contort and twist her body rapidly to avoid the dangerous blade.

The last time I had seen this level of hatred from Mordred was when she fought against the corrupted version of King Arthur. This time, though, it feels different. Her rage is coming out as if to avenge the honor of the very one who she declared to hate more than anything else. I could feel the others watching tensing, undoubtedly as feeling that there was something else going on.

The next minute felt like it had been hours since the enemy fled the field of battle, and the armor borne by both knights were now dented and scratched, though a fatal blow had yet been struck. Finally, Mordred and Lancelot disengaged, and the fight paused for a few seconds as the two warriors stared at one another. Finally, Mordred made the first move, raising her sword before her in a familiar posture.

"This is your sentence long overdue. I, Mordred Pendragon, son of King Arthur Pendragon, sentence you to death!" Once more, Mordred's helmet retracted. Her lips were curled in a mixture between a sneer and a snarl, while her emerald eyes blazed with fury. I stepped back, realizing what she was about to do, to unleash her Noble Phantasm once again.

"CLARENT-"

"Arthur….?" To my shock, Lancelot recoiled the moment he saw Mordred's helmet disappear. I couldn't see what his expression was, but it seemed that he hadn't seen the Knight of Rebellion without her helmet in life. Mordred either didn't care or didn't notice, swinging Clarent towards the Berserker.

"-BLOOD ARTHUR!" The Peerless Knight did not try to dodge the column of raw energy, or even unleash his own Noble Phantasm. Instead, Lancelot stood his ground, for once truly looking like the knight he must have been in life, as his figure was consumed by Mordred's Noble Phantasm. The knight didn't howl in pain or defiance.

When the wave of energy ended, Mordred's shoulders were rising and falling rapidly, still glaring at the Berserker. Already, the signs of a defeated Servant returning back to the Throne of Heroes was occurring. The long metal shaft he had used dropped to the ground, the red veins that had been covering it gone, before it too vanished in a golden cloud. His helmet missing in places, I could see a single, purple eye gazing out at Mordred for the briefest of moments, before turning his head slightly, weakly, towards Mash, though why I didn't know. A look of recognition appeared to have flashed, before he closed his eyes, fading away silently.

The battlefield was silent once more, and I rushed over to Mordred, who had now buried Clarent into the ground at her feet, slumping slightly against the blade. Her wild blonde hair was damp with sweat, though aside from the three red claw marks that had been courtesy of Phantom, she looked physical unharmed for the most part. She may have suffered some internal damage, but nothing fatal. At the very least though, I expect she would have bruises, if a Servant could have one, that was.

"You okay?" I finally asked the Saber. Mordred straightened her back, nodding, a defiant gleam in her eyes.

"Yeah, just need to catch my breath," she said rather vaguely. I hummed softly, but didn't push the matter. Now that the battle had truly ended, there was nothing to distract the French army from approaching us, even if it was apparently hesitant for the moment. I turned to Jeanne.

"We should go, now. We need to find somewhere safe for the night, to rest and regroup. Any ideas?" I asked the Ruler. It was the newest member of our ragtag group who answered, however.

"I heard tell of an abandoned fort a few miles west of here. You can use it to rest and plan," Siegfried said, forcing himself back up to his feet. Chulainn hovered nearby, ready to support the injured Servant as requested by Ritsuka.

"Jeanne!" The man who had rallied the French army, and tis apparent leader, was galloping towards us. He bared no weapon at us, and as he drew closer, I could make out the look of awe and desperate hope on his features as Marie's words from this morning came to mind, specifically, the one who was leading the army. So this was Gilles de Rais, before he descended into madness. Jeanne stiffened, and shot her comrade a hesitant look.

"Please wait," Gilles pleaded, shouting at the top of his voice. "You are indeed Jeanne d'Arc! Not the Dragon Witch, but a bona fida saint!" Jeanne didn't answer, and Marie nudged her friend, concerned.

"Shouldn't you answer?" She asked the Ruler. Jeanne shook her head sadly, turning away.

"I can't. If I answer, I will endanger Gilles's position. For now, we can't depend on them. At the very least, we must endure the scorn of those who once fought by my side," she said.

"But…do they really hate you?" Marie asked in disbelief. Jeanne shrugged, but didn't look back as she started jogging a bit faster.

"Let's go," was all she said. I shook my head at the disappointed Rider when she began to open her mouth. This wasn't the time nor place for this. Next to me, Mordred shook my shoulder, flashing a tired but cocky smirk.

"Let's get going."

Thankfully, we arrived at the abandoned fort Siegfried had mentioned without any further disruptions. The sun was beginning to set, casting the sky in a rather beautiful shade of orange overhead. It was nice to have something pleasant, no matter how mundane it might seem, considering the events we had gone through today.

When we arrived, the main gate, a simple wooden door, was hanging ajar. Sasaki and Medea went in first, taking a few minutes to ensure we weren't about to enter another ambush. I waited, my eyes darting to and from Mordred subtly, until the Greek Caster reappeared in the doorway, gesturing that it was safe to enter. Marie and Chulainn entered next, along with Amadeus, to ensure that Chulainn helped the injured Saber rest with his back against one of the walls. Then when we were all inside, and Medea had lit a torch to brighten the dimly lit room we were in, Marie activated her Noble Phantasm once more.

The instant the Rider had finished, Mordred had muttered something about going onto the battlements to keep watch. I turned to Ritsuka, who was watching Mash, Marie, and Jeanne as the trio clustered around Siegfried, talking to one another in soft voices. I tapped his shoulder, startling him slightly before he turned around with a questioning look on his face.

"Rits, I'm leaving you in charge for right now," I said quietly. "I'm going to check on Mordred." The fight, or rather, her behavior and actions whilst fighting the Berserker, had bothered me. Against my personal desires, I had decided to keep quiet on the matter, at least until we had gotten to somewhere safely. Now, I would try my luck to see if Mordred was willing in any way, shape, or form to answer the questions rattling around inside my head.

Ritsuka nodded in understanding. "I think I can handle that. I'll wait until you're finished before we make any final decisions about what we should do tomorrow. Good luck," he said, and I gave a grateful smile to my friend before I headed towards the staircase Mordred had taken to reach the top of the stone walls surrounding the small fort.

When I finally found her, the Knight of Rebellion had dismissed her suit of armor, arms crossed as she stared out at the horizon, exposing her bare back to me. At that moment, I felt a tinge of regret over not having a camera. The scene before me felt picture-worthy. I shook my head and started to slowly walk over, licking my lips nervously. I started to open my mouth before the smaller blonde turned around, looking at me expectantly.

"Everything okay down there?" She asked, trying to sound nonchalant. It felt hollow, but I didn't call her out on that. I shrugged instead.

"Marie, Jeanne, and Mash are checking on Siegfried, to see if Marie's Noble Phantasm worked on his injury like it has for us. But that's not what I came up here to talk about," I said. Mordred's brow wrinkled slightly at that last part.

"Master?"

"Hey, Mordred," I said slowly, weighing each word in my head before saying it out loud. The moment of hesitation causes Mordred to turn around, an adorably confused expression on her face before I finally decided on the words I would use. "We need to talk."

Chapter Text

"We need to talk."

For a minute or two, neither of us spoke, only looking at one another. Mordred's expression became guarded, though I could detect no hints of hostility, at least, not yet. Wonder how long that would last. Finally, Mordred was the first one to break the silence.

"I'm fine." I wanted to scoff at the blatant lie. Instead, I crossed my arms across my chest, staring back into her eyes. I wasn't going to back down. Servant or not, friend or not, I needed Mordred to have her head in the game, unwilling to see another comrade dying. Never get the easy jobs, it seems.

"Gareth and Gaheris were your half-siblings, correct?" I said instead, figuring that might be a good way to start. At the time, the two names she shouted during her duel with Lancelot hadn't registered with me. When we were making our way over to the abandoned fort, however, I recalled one of the various legends of King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table. Of Gawain, his younger brothers Gareth and Gaheris, his older brother Agravain. The children of King Lot of Lothian, and Morgan le Fay.

Mordred hesitated for a few minutes, her resolve flickering for a moment before hardening once again. "Yeah, so?" She said a bit testily. I refused to display the flinch I felt inside. While I knew deep down that the Knight of Rebellion wouldn't harm me, it was still a most unpleasant feeling

"Did you ever interact with them?" I asked, throwing Mordred off-guard. She grunted and looked towards the sun, frowning before she finally spoke again.

"…not too much. I didn't find out about them being my half-siblings until later, after I had entered service with King Arthur," she finally admitted. "But still…they were family…" she said a bit awkwardly. I nodded in response and in understanding, before speaking up once again.

"And so it still hurt to see them killed by Lancelot," I tentatively summarized, getting a nod from the blonde knight even as she continued to look away from me. "There's more to your anger at him beyond just that though, isn't there?" Mordred stiffened at that, but thankfully didn't lash out at me.

"You had to be there to truly understand," Mordred said softly. "The king was perfect. Tristan thought that he didn't understand human emotion, but in my eyes, the king was perfect. To betray the king was unforgivable. The fact that his closest and most trusted of knights did such an act to him went beyond treason." There it was again. The mixture of admiration and hatred for her father.

The contradiction bothered me greatly, and I was itching to ask her why. For someone who had tried to seize Arthur's thrown, she rarely talked about how she would be king if she could make a wish with the Holy Grail if one ever fell into her hands. Perhaps her last summoning had been a cause, but she had said she would tell me about this Greater Holy Grail War when we returned to Chaldea, and so I would have to wait.

"I won't ask you about your relationship with your father. That is something that only you should decide when and if you want to discuss it," I said, receiving a relieved nod. I noted the various emotions that ran across her face at the mention of Arthur, further confirming my suspicions that she didn't have only hatred for the king, or at least, not anymore.

"But you have seen something, haven't you? My last Master saw something, but he never brought it up. It bothered him, though, just like I've seen it bothering you. What was it?" She asked gruffly, still gazing at the evening sky. I took a deep breath before finally delving into the matter of those accursed dreams that have been plaguing my sleep the past few nights.

"I've seen what your…mother…did to you." Those words caused Mordred's hackles to rise as she released her breath in a hiss. Unlike when it came to her father, there was no mistaking the loathing she felt for Morgan le Fay. A sensation I completely shared despite having never met her in person. I continue speaking. "I saw how she left you in the cold, and had you fight hordes of skeletons until you were battered and beaten into unconsciousness." Mordred snorted in anger, though thankfully none of it was aimed at me.

"Yeah, real 'mother of the year' award stuff there, let me tell you," she said bitterly. I could see that she was clenching her fists tightly, her knuckles turning white from the action. "Always going on about her stupid plans. Couldn't believe it when I finally left," she grumbled, before saying something else that I was unable to hear.

I felt the urge to give her a friendly hug, but I don't act on it. At least for now, Mordred doesn't strike me as a person that would appreciate that level on contact. Handshakes, fist bumps, resting a hand on a shoulder….those kinds of things seemed to be what she was most comfortable with. Would that change as we continued our mission? I don't know, but that doesn't matter right now.

"It wasn't fair, and I am sorry you had to go through that. You probably grew up feeling that you were alone, and to trust no one," I said, looking at the setting sun before us as I sensed Mordred tensing up next to me. I paused for a few seconds, finalizing the phrasing for my next sentence.

"I just want to let you know that that no longer has to be the case, unless you wish for that to remain unchanged. That I hope you can rely on me just as I rely on both you and your strength. Okay?" I asked. The Knight of Rebellion remained silent once more, still frowning slightly. Finally, she gazed at me with a questioning glare.

"Why?" I sighed softly, resisting the urge to shake my head at Mordred's question.

"I told you this before, Mordred. We're a team. Partners. Partners look out for one another," I said, smiling earnestly at her, my hand still resting on her bare shoulder. "I've said, and hopefully shown, that I trust you. Now, I ask this of you: do you trust me?" For the next minute, Mordred merely stared into my eyes, her face expressionless. In the back of my mind, I felt a sense of panic. Did I push too hard too soon?

Shaking her head slightly with her eyes closed, Mordred lets out a soft chuckle of amusement before looking at me with her vibrant emerald eyes. "I think I do, Master. Thanks…for everything," she added. I nodded at her simple words, a pleased smile on my face as I stood up, offering the knight a hand.

Mordred shrugged at the gesture and firmly gripped mine with her own, and I helped her to her feet. "Well, know that we've taken care of that, let's go find out what the others have come up with."

"Heh, you left Ritsuka and Shieldy down there all alone?" Mordred teased, and I raised an eyebrow at her. "Eh, I'm sure it'll be fine," she said before I could inquire as to what the hell that was supposed to mean.

"Hopefully, Siegfried has been healed. Don't know about you, but I'm starting to think it would be nice to finally be able to go onto the offensive once more," I replied. Mordred laughed and slapped my back heartily in approval, the sound echoing as we descended into the fort together.

It didn't take long to realize that any hopes of going onto the offensive come morning were in vain. I grimaced slightly at seeing Siegfried's wound still present at his side. I was also met with solemn expressions from the others before they began to fill me in on what I had missed while talking upstairs with Mordred. Along with a plan that was not exactly to my liking, truth be told.

"So, let me get this straight," I said slowly. "Siegfried's wounds need to be healed by a Servant who was a saint, I get that. But you want to split up the group?" I asked, looking at Marie, Mash, Jeanne, and Ritsuka in the eyes firmly.

"Want to? No," Jeanne said softly. "Need to, though? Quite possibly."

"Staying together as a group is safer, but unless we remove the curse on Siegfried, can't defeat Fafnir. Splitting up would be a bit risky," Marie admitted, not flinching from my gaze. "However, it would allow for more ground to be covered, and improve the chances of finding a saint."

"This Jeanne Alter has summoned Fafnir. What if she summons more of the numerous infamous dragons of lore? We're running low on time. We need to find someone who can heal Siegfried ASAP," Chulainn chimed in, leaning against the shaft of his crimson spear. The other Servants nodded in agreement, even Mordred. I restrained myself from acting on the urge of hissing softly, instead chewing on the inside of my cheek softly for a minute or two before finally speaking once more.

"How many groups and how are we deciding who goes with which?" I asked resignedly. As much as I dislike the feeling this plan was giving me, it was a logical one. Ritsuka step forward a bit, and I looked at him as he answered my question.

"We're splitting into two groups. Jeanne and Marie are going as a small search party, while the rest of us protect Siegfried and move to the next major settlement nearby, Thiers." I grunted in acknowledgement. I looked at the map Ritsuka and the others had pulled up.

"That makes sense," I admitted in an even tone. I felt proud at seeing Ritsuka coming up with a plan without needing my input. Again, as much as I disliked it on a personal basis, it was a good plan. "I assume we will be splitting up come morning?"

Ritsuka nodded with a sad expression, showing that he was as uncomfortable about this as I was. We both knew though that to save humanity, we would have to put aside our personal desires at times for the greater good.

"Very well then. Let's see what was left behind and if there are any blankets or food that is edible before we set up camp."

I woke up early, rubbing my forehead slightly. Once again, I had one of those damn dreams, but this time, it felt less cohesive. Less of a single moment but a collage of scenes. Mordred's helmet and armor, becoming a Knight of the Round Table. Feelings of pride, awe, release…

I shake my head, looking around. It looked like Sasaki was on guard duty again, as he was the only Servant out of sight. He was probably guarding the front gate, something that Medea had mockingly suggested the Assassin should do when we had discussed who was going to take which watch for the night, and that Chulainn had grunted in amusement to the disapproval of my second Servant.

I looked at Mordred, seeing that she had fallen asleep sitting down with her back resting against the wall nearest Ritsuka and I. She still hadn't re-summoned her armor, though the cool air inside the stone building wasn't all the cold to have bothered the Servant, especially since she had one of the (thankfully clean) spare blankets we had found in the barracks of the fort over her body. She had a peaceful expression on her face. Good, it looks like my words last night had worked hopefully.

I walked quietly up the stairwell leading to the battlements, my sword in one hand and a discarded whetstone that I had found last night in the other. It was early morning, the sky colored a gentle pink as the sun began its daily ascent once more. I took a few minutes to enjoy the sight, before I walked over to the same spot I had found Mordred when we first arrived here, sitting down between two merlons, my feet dangling against the front of the wall as I unsheathed the sword.

I began to examine the blade, taking note of the various notches that were testament to the past few days of fighting, along with a few segments that looked to have started becoming dull. Placing the empty sheath to the side, I adjusted my grip on the whetstone as I began to work on the sword blade.

After a few minutes of silence that were only broken by the sound of stone against metal, I began humming. The tune was an old lullaby from my childhood, one I remembered my mother would use whenever I was frightened by an overhead thunderstorm.

Some people said that I had acquire my mother's voice when it came to singing, making the few occasions that I sung aloud stunning. Of course, I wasn't sure if that was true, and regardless of that fact, the occasions that I found myself in where I would want to sing had been virtually non-existent. I would, of course, hum, however.

A good thing too, as the lullaby I was humming was one where I had forgotten the exact words for. It was a song about a weary traveler finally finding his way home. The important part was that it was uplifting and calming at once, and I soon found myself lost in the action of sharpening my sword. The sound of footsteps behind me almost caused me to drop the sword, though I relaxed rather quickly when I heard a feminine voice calling my name softly.

"Jacob?" I briefly paused my humming, looking over my shoulder to see Jeanne staring at me with a curious expression. I nodded my head in greeting at her.

"Ah, good morning Jeanne," I said before turning my head to look back at the blade, humming once more. I heard the Ruler walk closer, but she didn't say anything, listening to my tune for a few minutes. I don't say anything either, as I finish up taking care of my blade before I stop humming, gaining Jeanne's attention.

"There's more to your reason to not greet stay and talk with Gilles yesterday, wasn't there?" I finally asked, putting my sword back into its sheath and placing it against the side once more.

"…Yes," Jeanne admitted hesitantly. Someone please save me from blonde girls that have trouble admitting what's bothering them in some form or another. At least this time I shouldn't have to worry about having one's ire directed at me like Mordred had done initially.

"You know what he became after your death," I said, rather than asked. Her summoning might have been tainted, nor could she remember previous summonings, but so far, she hadn't given any indication of the knowledge the fates of other Heroic Spirits. Again, Jeanne nodded.

"It mustn't be easy, knowing that a man you respected went off the deep end over your death.

"If Gilles is ever summoned at Chaldea, think of it as God giving him a chance to redeem himself," I offered. I wasn't a religious man, but for Jeanne, it formed a huge part of who she was. A soft smile came to her lips as she nodded slowly, getting the idea I was trying to suggest. "You won't be able to change what his fate will be once the timeline is fixed, but isn't it better to have a chance to tell him that he shouldn't blame himself for your death?" Jeanne didn't answer the question, and silence reigned once more between us as I gazed at the blonde Ruler.

"Perhaps you are right," she finally said hesitantly. That I might also be wrong wasn't said but implied, but I took no offense, looking over at the horizon. Even from here, the faint traces of smoke indicated the burnt remains of Lyon. How many other settlements will our two parties come across before we assault Orléans, I find myself wondering.

"Promise me something," I finally said, tightly gripping my weapon to the point my knuckles were white.

"Yes, Jacob?" She asked with a hint of confusion. I turned around slightly, staring into her eyes firmly.

"Promise me you and Marie will come back to us," I simply said. "At the very least, that you will do all that you can to do so," I added, trying to not sound demanding to someone who wasn't truly my Servant. Jeanne's cheeks pinked slightly as her eyes widened. Before she could get the wrong idea, or Marie somehow getting the idea to play matchmaker, I pushed on. "I've already seen enough death here. I wish to not have those that I know to join them."

Jeanne nodded at those words, understanding now why I was asking for such a promise. "With God as my witness," she said in a solemn voice, "I will do all that I can to ensure that Marie and I will rejoin you as soon as we can." I nodded, knowing that she would be true to her word. Her religion was a key part of who she was, who she is. "I think I can hear the others starting to get up," Jeanne said in a softer tone. I grunted as I stood back up.

"Then I guess it is time to start saying our goodbyes to one another, then, huh?" I said with a half-hearted smile, an expression the Maid of Orléans shared with me as we began to descend down the stairwell.

Breakfast was a quiet and somber affair. We hadn't found any edible food, so we ate another bland, if healthy, breakfast. Before we knew it, it was almost time to spilt up and go in different directions. Trudging back outside, Marie closed her eyes before summoning her magnificent glass horse, which she mounted with breathtaking grace, a sweet smile on her lips as she looked at us. Her gaze focused on Amadeus, who was either unable or unwilling to look his friend in the eyes before she left.

"Amadeus," Marie said gently, and the Caster looked up at her. "Please look after Ritsuka and the others." Her friend nodded solemnly.

"To be honest, I'm nervous about leaving your side," he said quietly. The Caster released a soft bark of humorless laughter before continuing. "Not that there's a time when I'm not nervous about you. But you can use your Noble Phantasm to escape, and Jeanne is a defense specialist. I'll just have to hope for the best. Just be safe," he asked, his words eerily like the ones I had spoken to Jeanne. Marie smiled with her typical cheer and energy.

"Oh! My heart beats thinking that you might propose to me again!" She teased playfully, causing her friend to blink before staring at her in confusion.

"Wait. Why would you bring that up now?" Why indeed? Mash gave out a startled gasp at the Rider's words.

"Propose? What?" Roman, having listened in, quickly came to her rescue as he explained to her how the composer at the young age of six had proposed to Marie Antoinette, who was only one year older than him. I tuned out the conversation as Marie recounted the story to Mash, Ritsuka, and Jeanne, while I turned to Mordred.

"Well, at least this isn't a depressing departure," I commented softly, shrugging for added affect that caused the Knight of Rebellion to snicker in amusement.

"See you, Amadeus! I'm leaving now! When I come back, let me listen to your piano again!" Marie said excitedly, bouncing up and down slightly atop her mount. Mash turned to Jeanne, handing the Ruler her commlink.

"Let's keep in contact with each other at regular intervals," she suggested as Jeanne examined the wrist-borne device. "It's a Chaldean communication device that allows for us to keep in touch via magical energy," the Demi-Servant explained as she helped the Maid of Orléans strapping said device and giving a quick lesson on the basics for using it. Once she finished, Jeanne nodded in approval.

"Very well. I'll hold on to it, then."

"Take care," Ritsuka said with a smile.

"Be careful," I cautioned at the same time.

"Yes, thank you. Jacob, Ritsuka, everyone, please take care as well," she said with a smile before climbing onto Marie's mount, wrapping her arms around the smaller Servant's waist to hold on. Despite her words yesterday about the glass horse being a one-seater only, Marie had meant it in the sense of being able to ride comfortably for a human or even a Demi-Servant. For a Servant, especially one like Jeanne who had borne her fair share of trials and tribulations, this wasn't all that bad for the Ruler.

The two Servants gave a final wave of goodbye before Marie urged her horse forward, and the mount began to gallop off.

"Don't worry, Master," Mordred said, speaking loud enough that only I could hear her words. "Ruler is a tough girl. It'll take more than a few Servants to bring her down." I grunted in response before turning to Ritsuka.

"Let's get going. Next stop, the town of Thiers."

Chapter Text

We had been walking for about a half hour before Amadeus came to a sudden stop, bringing the rest of us to pausing as well. "Amadeus?" I asked in concern, my hand creeping towards the hilt of my newly sharpened sword. Did he sense any enemies? Seeing my reaction, the Caster shook his head, and we relaxed slightly.

"What I spoke about earlier with Marie was out of line. I wish to apologize for that," he explained, referring to the whole scene about Marie telling us about his proposal to her int heir youth and his reaction to it. Next to me, Ritsuka cocked his head quizzically.

"Do you still love Marie?" He asked tentatively, having been more involved with the conversation than I had been. The composer shook his head slightly.

"Certainly not," Amadeus admitted a bit blithely. "I have no more passion for her. She was just a special divergence in my fate. If I'd led a decent life, the divergence would've been that proposal. Like what you'd call the cornerstone of human history." Amadeus waved his hands in the air for added effect as he continued speaking. "What choices would this man, Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, have made to end up this way?"

I grunted in agreement. "Not a day goes by where hundreds of people ask themselves similar questions as to yours." Amadeus nodded at me.

"I would offer my life to music, no matter what, and became a scum that abandons all human virtue," he said, almost despairingly. "I will admit, though, that if there was anyone who could have changed that fate of mine, I think it would have been Marie," he finished with a nostalgic smile. Now Mash had a question expression on her face, and she spoke up quietly.

"Amadeus, wouldn't that mean that you love Marie?"

"OH, sure, I do love her. But I am not in love with her anymore. Why, is that a problem?" The Caster asked with a grin. Mash hesitated as I started to bounce on the back of my heels, eager to get back on the move, but unwilling to sound rude and interrupt what seems to be a potentially enlightening conversation for the unbelievably innocent Demi-Servant. If I was reading Mordred's body language and posture correctly as she stood next to me, she was having similar feelings as I.

"I don't know," Mash finally admitted. "Before, you said that we humans are filthy. Based on what you said, that means you think Marie is also filthy without exception." Amadeus just shrugged.

"So what? I love anything filthy. Music is beautiful. We humans are filthy." He paused and stared down at Mash, rubbing his chin with one clawed hand. "You weren't aware of such differences? It's just a matter of category, isn't it?" Poor Mash's confusion was only furthered by this.

"What?" She asked, blinking. "You said that humans only love beautiful things." Ah, so you are taking things as they are said at face value, and not reading between the lines, Mash. Might wanna talk with Rits about fixing that little issue when we return to Chaldea. My musing caused me to miss out on Amadeus's response, however, as Mash spoke up once more.

"Well, to me, that difference is too abstract," Mash said in a nervous and apologetic tone. The German Caster hummed in brief thought.

"I guess I can't make you understand it with words. You'll understand someday," he said as Mash looked down at her feet in disappointment. "After all, you're going to continue your journey with Ritsuka, right? Then you'll figure it out. When it comes to the topic of humanity, he is an ideal Senpai, as some might say!" He said in a jovial tone, and Mash perked back up, looking at her Master. Gee, glad to know that I've been left out. Or does everyone see me becoming the mother of our 'band of misfits'?

"Y-Yes! I can completely understand the 'ideal Senpai' part!" On the bright side, Mash's honest and energetic response did give me a form of amusement as my fellow Master spluttered in shock, cheeks flushing red.

"M-Mash!" He exclaimed, causing Mordred and I, along with Medea, to laugh at his reaction. Unfortunately, I wouldn't get a chance to find out my friend's response as I looked over my shoulder.

"We've got company!" I warned, and the relaxed atmosphere that had been present dissipates as weapons are drawn as I point at a group of a dozen of the werewolf-like beasts we had encountered in the forest near La Charité.

"Finally!" Mordred crowed excitedly. Yeah, she is definitely feeling better. A day she shows a distaste for battle is a day that I will be spending worrying about the Knight of Rebellion.

The battle was quick and without mercy. The animal-human hybrids were tough, but nowhere near the threat level of a Servant or a wyvern. Though, if one thinks about it, the main reasons wyverns are threats is only because of their numbers and abilities to fly. A badly injured foe managed to push past the line of Servants towards the end of the skirmish, but I dealt with it easily, calling out for Ritsuka to take some notes. All it took was a quick sidestep, then a cut to the Achilles's tendon, and then a simple thrust into the back of the neck, and so ended the last of our 'ambushers'.

I grunted as I pulled my sword out of the final beast-man, as I suppose would be better to refer to them. Can't calm them werewolves anymore even if they look like them if they can run around in broad daylight.

"I think that's the last of them," I said as I started to sheath my sword.

"We're done here," Mash said in response, before looking over at the weakest member of our group. "Siegfried, are you alright?" She asked the frowning Saber. I suspected that it wasn't a frown caused by pain, but rather one from being unable to fight.

"I've recovered enough to walk," he reminded her. "I just can't engage in combat. I'm going to be making trouble for you a little longer, no doubt. I'm sorry," he said. Mordred scoffed, but I didn't detect any real ire in her response. Nor did her fellow Saber react to it. My commlink went off and I activated it, displaying Roman once more.

"Find anything good?" I asked, and the acting director nodded excitedly.

"It looks like you won't be encountering any more enemies. I'll be keeping an eye on my readings and will let you guys know whenever a Servant signature appears," He said. Well, that seemed to be rather fortuitous. Hopefully it wasn't a trap, but I trusted Doctor Roman to have already taken that possibility into account.

"Okay, that sounds good to me. Thanks for the heads-up," I said, before deactivating my link as we prepared to resume our trek to Thiers.

Hopefully Marie and Jeanne are having fun with their little 'outing'.

Marie glanced over her shoulder, taking note of the admittedly scary expression (at least, if you asked her!) present on her new-found friend's face. It had been present for the past hour or two since Jeanne and her had left the others.

"Jeanne, Jeanne," she finally asked, unable to hide her concern. "You have a scary look on your face!" Jeanne was startled by the sudden addressal, her turquoise eyes wide and blinking in surprise.

"W-what?" Jeanne stammered, before an embarrassed blush that Marie felt was adorable appeared once more. "D-Do I look scary?" She added in concern. Marie slowed her mount to a trot, and then a pause, dismounting for a short break and gesturing at Jeanne to do the same. The Rider waited for her fellow Servant to steady herself after her own dismounted before she addressed Jeanne's question.

"Not so much scary as…stern?" The Rider explained with a giggle as the saint's blush refused to go away as Jeanne looked away a bit sheepishly.

"Well, I guess so," Jeanne admitted. "I was doing some thinking." Marie let out a soft sound of exclamation.

"You mean about the Dragon Witch?"

"Yes, among a few other things." Oh? "From the day  I was born I've received God's revelations, and I just ran off without ever looking back. I became a Heroic Spirit after I died, and then was summoned as a Ruler. I accept this fact as part of the natural order of things." Jeanne's face scrunched up in confusion before she continued speaking. "I don't understand anything the Dragon Witch Says, not a single word. I wonder…who that 'me' is," Jeanne finally admitted. Marie gave the Ruler a brief hug, unable to suppress her soft giggle before taking a step back, smiling at her friend.

"Ah, you really are beautiful. Very, very, very beautiful," she said in all earnestly. Jeanne looked away, looking adorable once again!

"D-don't tease me," Jeanne said in denial, causing the Rider to shake her head slightly, still beaming at her fellow Servant.

"Well, it's the truth," Marie said firmly, refusing to allow the modest saint to disagree. "If I were you…I would probably accept the things the 'Dragon Witch' says," she added, causing her friend to look back at her with concern.

"…Marie?" Jeanne asked.

"Please hear me out. I don't hate the people who executed me. It's a fact I am 90% positive about. But that remaining 10%, or possibly even much smaller than that," Marie said sadly, as a collection of young faces flashed through her mind that belonged to some of the most precious people in her life. "I hated those that killed my children. At least, just for a little bit," she finally said with a sigh. Jeanne gasped softly, gazing at her with sympathy.

"They killed my son Charles, to hurt me. You should truly feel pity for him. So, if my version of the 'Dragon Witch' ever appears, I would probably think 'oh, that's the other me', and accept the things she says. But that's not the case for you, is it Jeanne? It's something really great and beautiful. It's not  because you don't want to get dirty, or don't want to believe you are. Nor does that mean you lack something." She smiled softly, titling her head slightly. "You like people, don't you? People who try to move forward by groveling around. The unreasonable ones, the accusers." Her blush finally faded away, Jeanne nodded slowly, causing Marie to feel her smile brighten once more.

"Yes. I do love them," her friend admitted, before a look of understanding came to her. "Oh, I see, there's no way I could hold a grudge against them…because I love them.

"Oui! That's why France was saved by you. It's okay, tell the Dragon Witch when you see her," she urged, causing Jeanne to look at her in confusion once more. Agh, she didn't explain her idea about that yet!

"Tell her?" Jeanne repeated. "Well, tell her what?"

"Say what you want to say out loud. Say, 'You're not me', or maybe, 'I don't know you'," she said, trying to sound like her friend when she was serious. TO her satisfaction, her actions caused the saint to smile, shaking her head in slight amusement at the impressions.

"Well, you're right. Absolutely right," Jeanne admitted. "I certainly…Oh, huh.....Know you, maybe?" Jeanne trailed off, rubbing her chin with one hand as she mumbled to herself softly. Marie tried not to frown. Drat, she's looking stern again.

"You're starting to look serious again," Marie sighed. "I'm sorry, it wasn't of any help?" Jeanne shook her head rapidly, and the sadness vanished as her spirits rose once more.

"Y-Yes. It was very helpful," Jeanne said with an honest and thankful smile. "When I confront her next time, I'm sure I can tell her what I want to say," the Maid of Orléans said determinedly. Marie nodded happily, pleased to see that her efforts had succeeded.

"Yes, you should be fine," she said, as her eyes flickered over to the device strapped to Jeanne's wrist. "Oh, I think it's time to make our regular contact!"

"Right, let's do that know."

"Glad to hear that you haven't run into any trouble yet. We ran into a small group of those werewolf wannabes earlier, but aside from that we've had little difficulties. Good luck, and we'll be eagerly awaiting your next report," I said to Jeanne over the commlink before turning it off. The others looked at me expectantly.

"Jeanne reports that she has encountered no hostile Servants or any other form of enemies," I said, noting the relieved expressions on Ritsuka and Amadeus in particular at the news. "So, this is Thiers," I said, looking ahead to the town before us.

The past hour or so was nice and quiet, especially after we dealt with those beast-men earlier. Ritsuka and I had had a quick break to eat, but aside from that nothing noteworthy had happened, and before we knew it, we had arrived at our destination. Amadeus nodded at me.

"Thiers…if I recall, it's famous for its knives. So far it looks like it hasn't been destroyed," he observed cheerfully. Considering that two out of the three towns we had been to or near previously had been destroyed, it was extremely pleasant to see one intact.

"Doctor, any signs of Servants?" Ritsuka said, having contacted the Command Room in the meantime. I turned around and crossed my arms, eager to hear the results.

"Finishing up checking… All right, there are two Servants in Thiers. They don't appear to be any you've encountered before, so that should be a good sign," Doctor Roman reported in a cautious tone. "We should make contact immedia-"

We all looked towards the front of the town as a fiery column appeared. No one said anything, staring at it in disbelief.

I felt my eye twitch slightly as the column of fire faded away.

"…that was unexpected," Mash said wearily. I took a deep breath as I looked around. While we weren't close enough yet to hear anything, but it didn't seem like the town was truly under attack. No wyverns circling overhead like reptilian vultures, no armies of the undead. Furthermore, the fire didn't appear to spread, nor was there other patches of flame visible elsewhere in the city. Then I noticed Amadeus pressing his hands to his ears, eyes screwed shut as an expression of disgust appeared.

"This noise…I hate it!" The Caster groaned. "An unprecedented noise, the premonition of an unprecedented demon! Oh, Muses! Please show mercy! My body can't stop trembling from fear." Well, that's certainly something.

"Well, we're not going to find out what the hell just happened standing up here," Mordred piped in, Clarent resting against her shoulder. Without waiting for a reply, she started sprinting towards the open gates, where the fire appeared to have come from. I followed close behind, the others at my heel.

It turns out my assumption of the town not being besieged was mostly accurate. As we passed through the tall wooden doors, I saw a small half-circle of the townsfolk staring in our direction with nervous expressions. Their gazes were aimed at us, thankfully. Instead, it was aimed at two small, young-looking girls who were glaring at one another. Considering how outlandish their outfits and appearances were for the local time period, it seemed like a good assumption that they were both the Servants Roman had detected, and the source of the fiery disturbance earlier. We came to a halt, and I focused on the conversation between the two girls.

"You!" The girl on the left shrieked at the other. She wore an outfit that made me think of a mixture of a maid and a popstar's dress, complete with frills and left her upper arms and shoulders bare. She had dark blue eyes filled with anger, and bright pink hair. I blinked my eyes to make sure I wasn't seeing things when I noticed the more…unique characteristics of her body. She had long, pink nails, a pair of curled horns, and a dark, scale-coated tail trailing from her skirt.

"Ok, definitely a Servant," I mumbled in shock to Mordred, who simply released a soft bark of laughter, no doubt amused at the expression of shock on my face as the girl continued screeching.

"You, you, you! You cheeky squirrel from the East!" She said, her voice reaching a pitch that was making me grit my teeth in discomfort as the other girl scoffed dismissively at the insult. She had long, light green hair, and wore a kimono. In one hand she clutched a Japanese-style folding fan that looked to be lacquered in gold. She had a set of white horn-like projections just above either side of the temple.

"Who's the actual; cheeky one?" Girl Number Two said, laughing mockingly at the other. "Do you really think a failure like you can beat a true dragon like myself, Elisabeth?" Elisabeth? Wasn't that the name Carmilla had said back at La Charité? But the two look nothing alike! 'Elisabeth's scowl deepened as she twirled a spear in her hands as she crouched down. The crowd opposite of us began to back away as the tension thickened in the air.

"Ughhhhhh! I'm so upset! I'll deal with Carmilla later, you die first, you creepy stalker!" She said hatefully. The other girl shot this 'Elisabeth' girl an utterly offended look.

"I'm not a stalker," she protested. "I'm a 'devoted bodyguard who acts like a spy'." So, an aggressive stalker. Please, don't let it be that she's the saint, I thought with a soft groan. "I, Kiyohime, am a woman who lives for love."

"Your 'love' violates human rights!" Elisabeth shot back in disbelief, causing the self-proclaimed Kiyohime to narrow her eyes.

"I don't want to hear it from a pervert with a fetish for blood torture. I imagine that you were doing…" she paused, apparently at a loss of words before she flicked her wrist at the demonic-looking girl. "as doing THAT. Weren't you?" She said accusingly.

Weeeell….well, well, well. Took us less than three minutes of listening to this argument before we went to an eleven. At least someone was enjoying themselves, if Mordred's poorly hidden laughter was anything.

For a brief moment, Elisabeth's stance loosened slightly, as she blinked her eyes in confusion at Kiyohime's accusation. "What's 'doing it'? What's 'doing that'? Don't talk nonsense!" Now Kiyohime was the surprised looking one.

"What? Elisabeth, I didn't know that you were-" At that moment the green girl's words had apparently clicked in Elisabeth's mind, for her face turned a deep crimson as she shrieked in a mixture of dismay and disgust, shaking her head rapidly.

"Shut up, shut up, shut up!" She half-pleaded, half-demanded. "I'm going to KILL YOU!"

"You can't kill me because I'll kill you!"

"Enough! Stop right there!" Amadeus roared like I had never seen him do so before. Our other Servants backed away slightly from the scowling Caster as everyone paused what they were doing. "I can't let the two of you go any further. What your doing is sacrilege against all voice and sound!"

"They're not saints, are they?" Ritsuka asked nervously, eyeing the two girls. To his relief, and that of myself and Mash, Amadeus shook his head emphatically to the negative.

"No way! Religions would tumble if they're saints!" Declared the composer. Mash stepped forward, clearing her throat as the two responsible for Amadeus's ire appeared to be starting back up their shouting match.

"Hey, you two!" Cried out the Demi-Servant, valiantly trying to diffuse the situation. If nothing else, her actions did cause the two feuding Servants to look away from one another.

"Huh? What?" Elisabeth asked.

"I'm busy right mow. Come back the day before yesterday," Kiyohime responded at the same time, rolling her eyes at a now awkward-looking Mash. The demonic Servant crossed her arms as best she could considering the spear she bore.

"Hmmph," she huffed at Kiyohime. "You'll no longer be busy soon. At least, until the next Holy Grail War that is!"

"Frilled-neck lizard," Kiyohime seethed. Did she just fell back to the age-old tradition of name calling?

"Japanese rat snake!" Yes, apparently, they are.

"Mexican bearded lizard!"

"Sharp-nosed viper!" Elisabeth said, as the two had grown louder with each name-calling. Mash tried to shout over the two as they resumed their childish bickering.

"Okay, stop!" Mash shouted vainly. Amadeus was clutching his ears tightly once again in the meanwhile. "Ahhhh..." he gasped in pain. For his supernatural hearing he had mentioned possessing, this must have been hell incarnate for him, especially at this close a proximity. "My ear will rot…You scum…Oh, no, I'm forbidden to say that word. I promised Marie," he grumbled before stiffening, gaze focused on Mash. "By the way, Mash…"

The Demi-Servant looked at the Caster with a mixture of dismay and irritation. The latter I cannot blame. If it wasn't for the fact that Mordred would have to hold the two back to prevent them from eviscerating me, I would have slammed their skulls together by now. "What now?" She asked.

"To our great joy, enemies are coming," Amadeus said, gesturing behind us. Sure enough, a small cloud of dust had appeared. "For the sake of my ears, let's deal with them," Amadeus said eagerly.

"Should we try to see if that would get those two to help?" Ritsuka asked as the two Servants continued their name-calling game.

"Black mamba!" Elizabeth shrieked.

"Japanese grass lizard!" Kiyohime roared in response.

"Forget them," I growled, resisting the urge to throw my hands in the air at frustration. The world might be in danger of being destroyed, and yet not even that could prevent supposed 'heroes' from being petty. At least the ones accompanying Ritsuka and I were professional, so to speak.

I stepped back outside, Mordred right behind me as she bore her typical smirk. At least my Servant's love for battle wouldn't change, it seems. I gripped my sword as the cloud drew closer, and I could see tall, humanoid shapes. Looks like they might be more beast-men. At least it's something kinda new, I suppose.

"Medea, Amadeus, you will assist Sasaki in guarding the gate. Mash, Mordred, Chulainn, you will be out front line. Siegfried, Ritsuka, keep an eye on the sky for any wyverns. Knowing our luck, they're probably not too far away," I barked, eyes narrowed, sword drawn.

"Time for another workout," Mordred said to the right of me as she moved up with our sole Lancer and Demi-Servant of the group, while the other Servants made sounds of acknowledgement.

"We hold the line. We don't let a single one of those bastards into the town. Let's kick some ass!" I said, drawing my sword and pointing the tip towards the rapidly approaching enemy host.