Baka-Tsuki - User contributions [en]

Fate/Zero:Act 16 Part 9

2011-07-06T03:26:12Z

217.129.38.97: /* -03:49:31 */

=== -03:49:31 ===

Saber walked through the flames that burned like purgatory.

The wounds that Berserker had inflicted on her were beyond that which could be cured by her regenerative abilities. The once shining platinum armor was also stained black in places by Berserker’s countless attacks. Her bloodless skin was white as paper. Her knees were weak, her ankles trembled, her breathing was rapid; with every step, pain wracked her entire body, almost making her lose consciousness.

Even though every step was difficult, Saber nevertheless did not stop walking forward.

She still bore the responsibility, bore the promise that she as a King must fulfill. There was only one way left to fulfill this promise, and that was to obtain the Grail. Therefore it was necessary that she go on; spurring on her wounded body, she gritted her teeth and walked forward.

At last, she reached the first floor. Passing through the entrance, she pushed open the main doors; an empty music hall appeared before her eyes. In the middle of the stage in front of her, the Grail floated encircled by flames, shining with eye-catching golden light.

"Ah…”

It was clear at a glance; this was undoubtedly the Grail that she desired so much to obtain.

The flesh body of the homunculus had reverted to the gold vessel that was forged from inorganic material. Saber did not know the process by which this was done, but she could tell, from the scene before her, exactly what had happened.

She was ‘the Guardian of the Vessel’, and had been determined to pass the Grail to Kiritsugu and Saber. If there was a possibility that the ‘Vessel’ could be stolen, then before that happened, she would definitely come forward to defend the Grail unto the death. Now, the ritual setting was missing Irisviel’s form; controlled by an invisible hand, the Grail was about to descend.

"Irisviel…”

Remembering her voice and her smile, Saber bit her lip with a sob.

She had sworn on her sword to protect her, but had been unable to do so. She had reneged on her vow.

Just like she had been unable to save her beloved home country.

Just like she had been unable to resolve the torment of a friend.

Self-reproach and humiliation tore at her heart. Flashing in her mind was the city eternally covered by falling snow, and the words of Irisviel as they had exchanged vows.

—Saber, you must get the Grail. For you, and your Master—

"...Yes, at least this promise I will keep. Only this promise…”

—was supporting everything of Saber now.

In this moment she still held the precious sword in her hand; she still breathed, her heart still beat. All this, for one reason.

Saber stepped forward resolutely. Exactly at this time—

"Too slow, Saber. Even if you were bitten by that domesticated mad dog, you shouldn’t have let me wait this long.”

A devastating golden form was standing in the middle of the aisle in the spectator stand, blocking Saber’s way.

"...Archer…”

“Heh heh, don’t make that expression. I know you’re envious of my riches, but do show more restraint. That undisguised expression is really tasteless. Like a dog that has gone hungry for too long.”

The enemy’s appearance did not come unexpectedly to Saber.

This municipal hall was the final gathering place for all the Servants that still remained. Even if the other enemies initiated attacks on each other, it would be too naïve to hope that they would perish together. There was still one battle left, and the adversary was undoubtedly one of Archer or Rider.

But—Archer’s intact armor and his leisurely presence, infused with prana, made Saber grit her teeth.

Undoubtedly, not a hair of this golden Servant had come to harm. Beyond unharmed, it could even be said that he was running at full capacity.

Saber had been seriously injured in the battle with Berserker. If she wished to defeat Archer, she could only pin her hopes on her opponent having been drained considerably in a battle with Rider. But at this moment, not even a single scratch from battle could be seen on Archer.

Unexpectedly, the King of Conquerors had been unable to exact his revenge for that one sword blow…Was this Servant, whose identity was still unknown to her, really so strong?

Now, even the last thread of hope had been ground out of existence, but in Saber’s heart still flared a flame of anger.

Chances of victory, or tactics—None of that mattered any more. Saber only thought it unforgivable—she could not forgive that even now, there was still someone who stood between her and the Grail.

"...You, get out of the way…”

Saber’s low voice was filled with hatred. The insane obsession caused her once clear jade eyes to fill with a murky yellow-brown.

"The Grail… is mine… !”

The many wounds on Saber’s body could not stop her; roaring, she swung her sword at Archer. But after having made only a single step, her left leg was immediately pierced through by a Noble Phantasm that shot out of the air.

Saber fell to the floor, but gritted her teeth to prevent herself from groaning. Looking around, she saw groups of weapons from the Gate of Babylon continually appear in midair, all directed toward her, ready to be launched at any time.

As soon as their owner gave the order, countless primeval Noble Phantasms would shoot in unison toward Saber. She had literally become the target of a thousand arrows (3). As her left leg had been previously pierced through, she could not even dodge.

"Saber… this sight of you crouched on the ground, fallen into this presumptuous obsession, makes you even more beautiful…

Archer’s blood-red eyes held an uncomfortable emotion as he looked at Saber, who despite being mired in a hopeless situation, was still intending to make a final struggle.

"I don’t know why you are so obsessed with some wish-granting Grail. Saber… the fact that a woman like you exists can already be considered a rare miracle, no?”

Archer’s tone was unnaturally calm, as if it was not a dangerous enemy that was before him. This calm made the cornered Saber suspicious.

"What… are you saying—“

"Throw away your sword, and be my wife.”

In this situation, in this circumstance, Archer’s words surprised Saber. She was stunned by the sheer unexpectedness of it.

"... Wh—what did you say… What are you going to do!?”

“Even if you don’t understand, don’t you feel happy to hear such words? It is not anyone else, but I, who have admitted your worth.”

Perhaps only Archer alone would think that such a conclusion was a matter of course. The golden Servant arrogantly lifted his head, looking before him at the first woman he had ever loved.

"Abandon these pointless ideals and vows. These things will only restrict you and bring you misfortune. In future you need only desire me and live under my protection. In that case I vow, on my honor as King of everything, that I will grant you all the happiness in the world.”

"..."

His presumptuous tone was enough to re-ignite the flame of anger in Saber’s conflicted heart.

"For this ridiculous motive… you are fighting with me for the Grail?"

A second Noble Phantasm exploded as it flew past Saber’s nose. The force of the impact blew Saber into the air.

"I am not asking your opinion, but informing you of my decision.”

Archer’s face showed a bloodthirsty joy, as if relishing the sight of Saber’s furious resistance.

So this proud Heroic Spirit had never seen his opponent as a competitor of equal standing with himself. The enemy was worthy only of being manipulated and humiliated; he liked to admire the sight of their surrender to him. Saber’s desperate retaliation, on which she had gambled her all, to Archer was only an ordinary entertainment.

"All right, let’s have your response. Although the answer is right in front of you, I am very curious as to what expression you will wear as you say these words yourself.”

"I refuse! I will never—“

Without waiting for her to finish, Archer’s lightning-fast Noble Phantasm once again pierced into Saber’s already injured left leg. Hearing Saber’s groans of intense pain, Archer could not but laugh loudly.

"You can’t say it because you are too shy? It’s all right; I’ll forgive you no matter how many times you get it wrong. First you must learn suffering, and then you will be able to experience the joy I give you.”

The Noble Phantasms floating in midair waved their sharp blades as if to intimidate, gradually pressing closer to Saber.

An uncontrollable anger roiled in Saber’s thoughts. Compared to being killed in humiliation it would be better to try to get back at the enemy, even if it meant her life.

There was no other way. If she concentrated all the strength left in her body, perhaps she could still eke out the prana needed for one last strike of Excalibur. It would not be surprising if a Heroic Spirit of such unfathomable ability could defend against the attack of an anti-fortress Noble Phantasm, but at this moment he completely believed that he would win, and that made him complacent; he had never thought that Saber would still retaliate.

And yet—if Saber launched a counterattack on Archer from this position, the impact would wreck the Grail on the stage. Even if Archer took the full impact and was reduced to charcoal, the Grail would also be inevitably destroyed. In that case, all her efforts would have come to nothing.

"What should I do…!”

Facing this difficult choice, Saber sank into a dilemma; at this time, she noticed that a third figure had appeared in the hall.

On the wall that was approximately two floors high, within the semicircle-shaped box that did not protrude outward. In the light from the fire, appeared a ghostlike silhouette wearing a long windbreaker. He was the true Master who had made the contract with Saber—Emiya Kiritsugu.

From within the hopelessness, appeared a ray of sunlight.

Kiritsugu still held the forceful commanding power of the Command Seals. If he could lend her this magecraft power that he possessed, that had the ability to make the impossible possible, perhaps she would be able to break this stalemate.

As long as Kiritsugu understood Saber’s current situation, it was almost certain that he would use the Command Seals. Fortunately, Archer had not yet realized Kiritsugu’s presence.

Kiritsugu raised his right hand, showing the Command Seals carved on the back.

It was completely up to Kiritsugu what kind of order he would give. But Saber had already made up her mind that no matter how strange the battle tactics he intended to employ, she would do her utmost to carry them out. As long as she could retaliate against Archer, any methods would be fine.

Even if his command was to block the sense of pain and use all her strength, Saber would ignore the pain of her physical body, and exert the greatest strength from within her body until there was nothing left. If he commanded her to undergo instantaneous movement to the side of the Grail, then she would be able to escape this extremely disadvantageous position. Perhaps through precise calibration of Excalibur, she would be able to bring Archer down without harming the Grail. Such is a Command Seal. If the Command Seals were used with the consent of both Master and Servant, then no matter how impossible the task, it could be completed. In this moment, Saber entrusted everything to this last hope, because only it could turn the tables astonishingly on the current situation.

—Emiya Kiritsugu uses the Command Seal to command Saber—

The low words shook her entire body from the depths of her soul. The voice that could not have been more familiar announced, clearly and decisively.

—Use your Noble Phantasm, and destroy the Grail—

How the significance behind these words should be explained, how she should understand them—Saber’s mind went momentarily blank.

"...wh…?”

The rising hurricane dispelled the surrounding flames. From the heart of the deactivated Invisible Air, the form of the golden sword appeared.

Even if Saber’s brain refused to understand, her physical Servant’s body loyally accepted the command of the Command Seal. The precious sword began to accumulate light, completely independently of its bearer’s intention.

"Wh—what is this—What do you want to do!?”

Even Archer was stunned speechless. He had thought that because he had his back to the Grail, Saber would never execute a counterattack on him.

"...N… no!”

Saber roared in anger; that was a scream into which she had put all her strength. The golden sword raised high suddenly halted in midair.

As the legendary King of Knights, and as a Servant of the most excellent class, the the outstanding Magic Resistance ability that Saber possessed could actually resist the restraint of the Command Seals, albeit just barely. She used all her strength to halt her action of bringing her sword down. The opposing forces of compulsion and resistance clashed intensely within Saber’s body; her slender form seemed as if it would be torn apart at any time.

This intense pain and unimaginable torment made Saber remember the last moments of Diarmuid Ua Duibhne. Now she experienced utterly for herself the bitterness and humiliation that the tragic Heroic Spirit had undergone.

At the same time that she opposed the strong magecraft, Saber stared at Kiritsugu who stood in the middle of the box, and shouted.

"Why?! Kiritsugu—Why did it have to be you!?”

Impossible. It was impossible that he had given this order.

Kiritsugu desired so much to obtain the Grail—then in this moment, why did he reject it? Did he want to let the ritual, that his wife had given her life to bring about, go to waste?

After realizing that Saber’s unnatural actions were the doing of the Command Seal, Archer finally realized Emiya Kiritsugu’s presence.

"Are you trying to ruin my wedding, mongrel?!”

The Noble Phantasms that had been aimed at Saber now suddenly turned in unison to target Kiritsugu’s box.

But without waiting for the Noble Phantasms to begin their attack, Kiritsugu again raised his right hand to show the back to Saber below him—there was still one last Command Seal carved there.

—I use the third Command Seal to command again—

"Stop!!!”

Seeing that her pride and hope were about to disintegrate into ashes in the blink of an eye, Saber shrieked out in tears.

—Saber, destroy the Grail—

That was an ultimate might that could not be resisted at all.

The tremendous force of the dual Command Seals ravaged and crushed Saber’s form, at the same time drawing out all the prana that still remained within her body, weaving it into the light of destruction.

The released beam of light made a cross-section of the entire hall, directly impacting the Grail that floated on the stage. Archer nimbly dodged this attack, but because he was in close proximity to the beam of light, its high intensity made him momentarily unable to execute the attack on Kiritsugu.

In the heat of the lightning, the golden Grail that had once been a part of Irisviel’s body now quietly lost its shape, then vanished. Saber closed her eyes, not daring to look directly at this sight—now the last hope had been destroyed. Her fight had ended.

Since things were thus, how could she look upon this tragic scene with open eyes?

In truth, she never did open her eyes again. The Noble Phantasm, that had been forcibly executed in opposition to her own intentions, had already consumed all Saber’s remaining prana; she could not even maintain her physical Servant form any more. Saber had lost the strength and the will to remain in this world. Of course, this was also because her Master, who was also part of the contract, did not intend to let her stay.

Maintaining her stance of bringing her sword down, Saber started to leave this world; soon, her physical body also vanished.

In the moment in which she gradually lost contact with the real world, the riddle of this character Kiritsugu was the last consideration that flashed in Saber’s mind.

The adoring father that doted on his daughter, the warrior that hoped to save the world, the killer that had lost all hope in justice; it was various conflicting pieces of humanity that he showed, but in the end he had betrayed everything, denied everything.

Until the end, Saber could be sure only of the callousness and ruthlessness of this man’s heart.

Until the end, he and she had never been able to understand each other and build up a relationship of trust—no, perhaps it should be said that only at the final moment had she realized that she had never understood his true thoughts.

And yet, that was also not altogether unjustifiable—

Within her gradually vanishing awareness, Saber mocked herself.

How was she to understand this man who had not crossed paths with her beyond having given her three orders? She had once been unable to understand even the hearts of those at her side.

Perhaps all of this was the long and euphemistic punishment that tormented the ‘King who did not understand others’ hearts’.

Even though Saber left the world carrying many injuries, without having realized the burden in her heart, perhaps not having to personally witness the tragedy that came after was also a sort of recompense to her.

The beam of light from Excalibur that had destroyed the Grail had blown away the ceiling of the stage, and sheared the entire municipal hall into two. The building, that had already been burned beyond recognition, could not withstand the blow. The structure of the upper levels had been destroyed; the roof, having lost its support, now dropped into the hall like an avalanche.

Following which, through the fragments of debris, Kiritsugu saw ‘it’ in the revealed night sky.

A black sun — that which he had seen when he had touched the black mud. The sign of the end of the world.

At that time Kiritsugu had not seen clearly that its physical form was actually a true ‘hole’. It is a space tunnel that connected with the Magic Circle of the Greater Grail, which had been hidden beneath the altar of the ritual of descent, deep underground in Mount Enzō to the east of Miyama. The insides of the Greater Grail, which had drawn energy from the leylines for sixty years and now had obtained the souls of six Heroic Spirits, had been filled to the brim and turned into an enormous prana whirlpool. That was the true form of that black ‘hole’.

The ‘Vessel’ that had been removed from the Einsberns’ homunculus was only the key to open that ‘hole’, and also the control that sustained the stability of the hole. Kiritsugu, who did not know anything about this secret, had made a fatal mistake; he should not have commanded Saber to destroy the Grail, but instead should have made her use Excalibur to burn down the hole in the sky. No longer controlled by the ‘vessel’, the black sun began to melt; the hole gradually shrunk, but before it closed completely, it was already completely impossible to prevent the black mud from flowing out from within the hole.

That was a neutral energy that had been used only to create an opening to the ‘outside world’, but due to Kiritsugu’s previous mistake, it was stained with the pitch-black color of the curse.

This cursed mud that was full of ‘Angra Mainyu • All the Evil in the World'. The destructive power could burn away all the life in the world—at this moment it descended like a great waterfall from above the Municipal Hall.

Archer, standing in the spectator stands on the first floor, could not find a way of retreat to escape this baptism.

"This… this is…!?”

The turbulent black waves carried away the helpless golden Servant. No, he was not simply carried away; the moment he had touched the black mud, he had vanished. Archer’s body had been broken down and absorbed by the black mud in the blink of an eye; he had become one with the tempestuous flow of mud.

The black mud consumed the first-floor spectator stand like a tsunami; Kiritsugu, who was standing in the box and had thus escaped misfortune, stared blankly at all this. The cursed waterfall that descended from midair did not show any signs of stopping; the black mud became a river as it passed through the entrance of the municipal hall, flowing out of the building and spreading out toward the surrounding districts.

Thus, the massacre began.

The people were all sleeping soundly; the mud of death sensed the presence of human life, and became a burning curse that attacked at their pillow-side.

It burned the houses, burned the courtyards. No matter if they slept, or woke and tried to escape, all the people burned without exception—that which had waited within the Grail for sixty years now mercilessly seized all the life it touched, as if celebrating its fleeting freedom.

After the event it was found that there were more than 500 casualties, and 134 buildings had burned down. This great calamity of unknown cause left a mark in the hearts of the citizens of Fuyuki that was difficult to erase.

After a while, the hole in the sky disappeared, and the black mud no longer poured forth. But the mud had brought a fire of enormous proportions; the people who had been unable to escape turned one by one into burnt black corpses. A magnificent red lotus of fire bloomed in the night sky; on the ground was staged an endless banquet of death.

Having escaped the gradually collapsing municipal hall, Emiya Kiritsugu personally witnessed the entire process.

The life that tended toward destruction—was so much like the scene that had tormented him in nightmares. But that before him now was undoubtedly real.

<center>※※※※※</center>

She dreamed a dream, and in the dream, the world was burning.

The young girl, wrapped in a duvet and trembling from fear, opened her eyes.

The bedroom, guarded by the warm firelight from the fireplace, was still as calm and peaceful as before. The chilly night outside the window could not be of any threat to the girl who lay on the bed.

Even through the thick glass, she could hear the howling of the icy wind outside the window; the wind crept quietly into the house through the gap between the window and the frame. It was surely this sound that made her think mistakenly that she heard the tormented cries of people as they burned and died.

— What's wrong, Illyasviel?—

This her mother spoke, gently caressing her face. Her mother’s voice and touch, which stayed at all times by the girl’s side, at once set her heart to rest.

The girl and her mother were both existences that had been designed in the image of the magus who was called the ‘Lady of Winter’. Thus, in the girl’s heart there was her mother, and her aunt. Even if one were to pursue all the way to the very earliest ‘Primeval Justizia’, it was recorded in the girl’s heart.

Thus, even if it was a night during which she was alone, sleeping soundly wrapped in a duvet, the girl would never be lonely. She need only call out, and she could hear her mother’s voice any time, see her mother’s form any time.

“Mommy… I had a scary dream. In the dream, Illya became a cup.”

Gazing relieved at her mother’s soft silver hair and gentle eyes, the girl continued to recount her nightmare.

“Seven very, very big things were put into Illya. Illya almost broke, she was scared but also could not run away… then I heard Justizia’s voice, and above my head appeared a big black hole… then, the world started to burn. Kiritsugu looked at the world, and cried.”

Yes, she dreamed of him too. The father that she had heard say was in a faraway foreign land, dealing with some troublesome work.

Having thought of this, the girl suddenly realized that her nightmare just now seemed to represent something bad; she became uneasy again.

"Mommy… Kiritsugu will be okay, right? He won’t be alone and scared?”

Looking at the girl worried for her father, the mother smiled gently.

– It’s okay. That person will definitely strive, for Illya’s sake. So that Illya will not have that sort of scary memories again, he will definitely realize his dream, for us —

"...Nn, that’s right, that’s right.”

She knows that that person is one who has a strong desire to win. So, once he has finished that important work, he will definitely come back here immediately. The girl spread her fingers, counting the days till that day came. Though it was cold sleeping alone, even thus, her mother was still by her side. She wouldn’t be lonely—until the day she could correctly understand this contradiction.

The girl waited from within the city eternally sealed within falling snow. The promise that she had exchanged with her father, was the treasure that she valued the most.

<center>※※※※※</center>

The sky at sunset was the color of blood.

The ground before her eyes was also the color of blood.

The corpses slumped on the ground were the people who had once believed in a young girl and supported her as King, offering up to her the songs of victory.

Due to traitors sowing discord, they had divided into two factions; each had seen the other as an enemy and carried out slaughter, and then, they had fallen together on this battlefield. King Arthur’s final resting place, the foot of Camlann Hill.

Waking from a dream of the other side of space and time, kneeling dejectedly once more atop the bloodstained hill, Arturia blankly gazed at the desolate scene.

In order to change this ending, she had entrusted her soul after death to the ‘World’; and started a journey in search of a miracle.
[[Image:FZ_v04_387.png|thumb|]]

She had initially decided not to return here; she had initially believed that she would never see this scene again. But at this moment, the young girl still knelt on this piece of land.

But this was not the ending. This was only one point on the endlessly cyclic path.

After being released from her contract, the Heroic Spirit named Arturia had not set forth for the ‘Throne of Heroes’, but had been brought back to this place Camlann, because she had not come to the end of her fate’s path; It was necessary that she meets her final end here.

In other words, before she had been summoned to be a Servant, she was not a standard Heroic Spirit who had become one after dying in reality.

At the last moment she had exchanged vows with the ‘World’, hoping to obtain the Grail, and the price was to turn her soul after death into a guardian—this was the truth about the Servant named Arturia.

The contract could only be fulfilled only under the condition that the Grail had been obtained. In other words, if Arturia did not obtain the Grail, then time would forever stop on this land; forever, where even death cannot be achieved. Before obtaining the Grail, she could only continue to participate in the fight for the Grail on the other side of time.

Therefore, Arturia’s time had been frozen in the moment before her death. Unless she obtained the Grail, she could only return again and again to Camlann. Over and over again, this scene would eternally reproach her, torment her.

On the slope of death, she still held the stance with which she had established the contract.

Her face covered with tears, gauntlets stained through with the blood of enemies, the lance in her hand piercing the heart of her own flesh and blood.

The traitor who had also inherited her own bloodline, the child of tragedy, Mordred. The entanglement of love and hate had caused her to lose everything, and the scene to be fixed at the instant when she killed her own flesh and blood with her own hands—

The instant in which the awareness of the ‘World’ had come, summoned by wretched and tormented cries, and established the contract with the hero who searched for a miracle—

This was the prison that forever bound Arturia, who had lost her time.

Within time that had lost its meaning, within an instant that was equivalent to eternity, she gazed upon the battlefield under the light of dusk, and waited for the next summoning.

She was always right; this she firmly believed in. Even thus, she had still overlooked the spark that had caused the tragedy before her eyes, just like she had overlooked Lancelot and Guinevere’s pain.

She could not figure it out, and she did not understand why she could not figure it out—this was the limit of the king Arturia.

In that case, could it be that the terrible scene on Camlann was not any trick of fate, but the necessary result of the king Arturia’s rule?

"Uu…”

Unable to stop herself, she began to sob.

She remembered those long and distant days. She remembered the girl who had never paid attention to the men as they contested each other in the noisy arena, and had instead faced, alone, the sword stuck in the stone.

At that time, what had she been thinking of?

With what kind of resolution had she extended her arm to grip the hilt?

The memories had long since blurred; even though the tears obscured her sight, she could not remember.

In that case—her mistake must have been made that day.

She let the tears run freely down her face. In this place where time did not run, no matter what she thought or what she did, it would not be recorded in history. Here, she did not need to place on herself the title of King. In that case, it mattered not if she showed weakness; it mattered not if she showed shame.

With these thoughts, she faced the ideals that had not been fulfilled; she faced the people who had not been saved.

She faced everything that had vanished because she was king.

"... Sorry…”

Though she was choked to the point where she almost could not speak, she still could not control the impulse to apologize. Though she understood that her apology could not be conveyed to anyone’s heart, the girl nevertheless repeated her regret.

"I’m sorry… sorry… I, someone like me…”

One day, after stepping over endless battles, she would finally obtain the Grail. A that time, all the mistakes that she had made, could be erased through a miracle.

As she was now—she should not be called a king.

Before the next time she was summoned, the girl would always— within the instant that was called forever, within the censure that was called eternal rest—weep and regret.

Enduring torment in eternal punishment.
Feeling cowardice toward sins that could not be repaid.

<noinclude>
{| border="1" cellpadding="5" cellspacing="0" style="margin: 1em 1em 1em 0; background: #f9f9f9; border: 1px #aaaaaa solid; padding: 0.2em; border-collapse: collapse;"
|-
| Back to [[Fate/Zero:Act_16_Part_8|Act 16, Part 8]]
| Return to [[Fate/Zero|Main Page]]
| Forward to [[Fate/Zero:Act_16_Part_10|Act 16, Part 10]]
|-
|}
</noinclude>

Fate/Zero:Act 8 Part 5

2011-06-20T20:53:31Z

217.129.38.97: /* -103:11:39 */

=== -103:11:39 ===

Night once again descended on the Einsbern forest.

The night was still pitch dark and serene, but the signs of battle scattered all around was still evidently visible.

The castle that was specially tidied by the maids she brought over from her own country was also severely damaged in the battle between Emiya Kiritsugu and Lord El-Melloi. Even if she wanted to fix it, the maids in charge of chores had returned to their country. Irisviel sighed as she traversed the corridors, doing her best to ignore this ruinous scene.

Luckily, a few bedrooms were spared, and currently Hisau Maiya was resting in one of them. Although Irisviel had already performed healing magecraft on her, the Einsbern healing magecraft is an extremely large burden to the wounded after all. This is because it is adopted from alchemy and does not cause the injured body to regenerate, but use magecraft to create new tissue and use that for crafting.

That was the only thing she could do for now. It wouldn’t matter if the patient is a homunculus, but since she was healing humans it would count as a major operation similar to an organ transplant in modern medicine.

Exhausted, Maiya was deep asleep. It would take a very long recovery time for her to regain consciousness and move her body.

When Irisviel thought that Saber was protecting her she felt worse for Maiya, who was heavily wounded. However, considering her importance in the Heaven’s Feel, then undoubtedly Irisviel would be protected with priority. That’s an undeniable fact. Feeling painful for her wounded friend would have to be her naive sentimentality.

Meanwhile, Kiritsugu left immediately after he sent the injured Maiya back and still hadn’t returned. He didn’t even tell Irisviel and Saber his destination – perhaps he went to chase Kayneth El-Melloi, who had escaped. Irisviel had already detected that the enemy magus wasn’t successfully killed because of Saber. However, Kiritsugu didn’t get angry with nor blame Saber, but left coldly and without her. It’s hard to tell if he did it due to a reluctance to wound her pride, but the gulf between these two were getting bigger and bigger and it was already becoming very hard to reconcile them.

Troubled with the relationship between her husband and the King of Knights, Irisviel sighed deeply. Suddenly, a thunderous roar sounded beside her ears. Not only so, but this roar that tore apart the night created a gigantic burden for her Magic Circuits; the dizziness almost made Irisviel faint in the colonnade.

The roar came from a nearby thunder, and the prana impact that followed it meant the bounded field in the forest outside the castle was already under attack. Although a bounded field isn’t something that can be easily destroyed, her magecraft had already been damaged. “What’s going on… a frontal charge?”

A pair of strong arms held up Irisviel’s shoulders; they were Saber’s arms, who immediately appeared beside her when this strange change occurred.

“Are you alright, Irisviel?”

“Yeah, just scared. I didn’t think such a rude guest would visit.”

“I’ll go out to greet him, you stay beside me.”

Irisviel nodded upon hearing this. Staying beside Saber, who was going out to take in the attack, meant she herself must also face the enemy. However, the battlefield is the safest place for Irisviel, because the strongest Servant is right beside her.

Quickening her steps, Irisviel followed behind Saber. The two of them galloped through the tragically ruined castle; their destination was the terrace outside of the door. Since the opponent was attacking from the front, they should be able to meet him there.

“The thunder just then, and this senseless tactic… the opponent should be Rider.”

“I think so too.”

Irisviel remembered the overwhelming power of the Noble Phantasm ‘Gordius Wheel’ she witnessed a few days ago at the warehouse street. The chariot entwined with thunder and pulled by divine bulls – if that type of anti-army Noble Phantasm were to release all of its power, it could easily destroy the magecraft focal points placed in the forest. It wouldn’t matter too much if the bounded field was whole to begin with, but it had yet to recover from Caster and Kayneth’s attacks a few days ago.

“Oi, King of Knights! I especially came to meet you, come out, aye?”

This sound came from the main hall; it looks like the other party had already entered the door. Without a doubt, the enemy was the King of Conquerors, Alexander. Judging by his powerful and reverberating call, his tone was not like a warrior about to fight.

But Saber didn’t dare to be slack; she materialized her silver armor as she ran.

Irisviel and Saber finally went past the corridors and came to the terrace… but when the two of them saw, by the moonlight shining through the skylight, the enemy Servant standing in the hall with his chest puffed out, they didn’t know what to say.

“…”

“Yo, Saber. I wanted to have a look after I heard about the castle here – what happened to it, aye?”

Not apologetic at all, Rider smiled, baring his teeth; then he flexed his neck, pretending to be serious.

“It’s difficult to get in and out of the house if you have too many trees in the garden. I almost got lost before I arrived at the door, so I cut some down for you. Thanks to me, the view is much better.”

“Rider, you…”

Saber said severely. But faced with this enemy who always made his opponent to be at a loss, she didn’t know what to say next. It was Rider who furrowed his brows in surprise and said:

“Oi King of Knights, aren’t you gonna wear something modern tonight? Don’t just always wear that old-fashioned armor.”

If Saber’s armor-clad form was to be regarded as old-fashioned, then how would Rider’s attire of jeans and T-shirt be judged? If this armor is considered to be Saber’s pride, but the cracks on the thick breastplate was as if hinting upon its weaknesses. Perhaps, the only thing we could say here is ‘the ignorant is indefeasible’.

Waver was half hiding behind Rider’s giant torso and looking up towards Irisviel, and it was hard to tell if his expression was one of enmity or terror. Undoubtedly, his face plainly showed he wanted to go home, and quickly too.

Once upon a time, King Alexander took the lead in wearing Asiatic clothing due to his interest in the cultures of his conquered land, and caused his followers to avert him like the plague. Irisviel had heard of this story, but she would never have known that the reason Rider changed into modern attire was because of Saber and the suit she wore.

What made them more confused was the thing in Rider’s hand; it wasn’t a weapon or anything else used in battle.

It was a casket.

No matter how they look at it, it still appears to be a red wooden wine casket. Rider, who easily carried the casket under his arm, looked just like a wine shop owner coming to deliver his stock.

“You…”

Saber, once again at a loss for words, took a deep breath and said calmly.

“Rider, what are you doing here?”

“You can’t tell by looks? I’m gonna drink with you – oi, stop standing there like a stick and lead the way. Is there a courtyard here fitting for a banquet? We can’t do with this castle, way too dusty inside.”

“…”

Saber sighed helplessly, and the anger piled up in her chest also disappeared. Faced with this opponent who appears to have no ill-intent whatsoever, she found it impossible to keep up her fighting spirit.

“Irisviel, what do we do?”

Irisviel was similarly befuddled.

She was angry at the destruction of the forest’s bounded field, but there’s no way she’d manage to continue to hate him once she saw his grinning face.

“He’s not the kind of person who’d set a trap; could it be he really wants to drink?”

Rider once said he would obey the contract sealed by the Heroic Spirits’ pride and honor and pronounce his challenge after Saber and Lancer had decided the victor among them. Therefore, his sudden appearance tonight was truly incomprehensible.

“Could that man be trying to placate Saber?”

“No, this is a challenge.”

Saber, who should have lost her will to fight, suddenly became solemn for no reason.

“Challenge?”

“Yes… I am a king, and he is also a king. If we are to find the victor on the drinking table, then that is a ‘battle’ without bloodshed.”

Hearing Saber’s words, the King of Conquerors nodded with a smile.

“Hohoho, it’s good that you understand. Since we can’t oppose each other with swords, then let’s battle with wine. King of Knights, I won’t go easy on you tonight. Be prepared.”

“Interesting. I accept.”

Saber, replying resolutely, emanated the sharp battle vigor as if she was facing a battlefield. Only then did Irisviel realize this was not a joke, but a true ‘battle’.

<center>※※※※※</center>

The place of the banquet was chosen to be the parterre in the castle’s central courtyard. The battle last night didn’t affect this place, and it wasn’t frugal to welcome a guest here. By now, no one paid attention to the coldness of the outside air.

Rider brought the casket to the central courtyard, and the two Servants sat opposite each other with ease. Irisviel and Waver sat aside, next to each other. As they tried to guess the progression of events they realized they were in a temporary truce, and all they needed to do was stay aside and watch.

Rider shattered the lid of the casket with his fist; the musky fragrance of rice wine immediately filled the air of the courtyard.

“Although this is shaped oddly, it’s the goblet unique to this country.”

Rider happily scooped up some wine with the long bamboo ladle. Unfortunately, no one present pointed out the error in his common sense.

Rider firstly drained the wine in the ladle with one gulp, then spoke:

“I heard that only those who are worthy are able to obtain the Holy Grail.”

The solemn tone made the atmosphere quietened down. Something must be up if this man is speaking in this tone of voice.

“And the ceremony of choosing the worthy one is this battle conducted at Fuyuki – however, if we’re only onlookers, there’ll be no need of bloodshed. As Heroic Spirits, if we can mutually acknowledge each other’s strength… I don’t need to say anymore after this, do I?”

“…”

Without hesitation, Saber took the long ladle Rider passed to her, and also scooped up a full measure of wine.

Saber’s slender body made others worry if she could really drink liquor. However, her forthrightness with the drink wasn’t in any ways lacking compared to the giant Rider. Seeing this, Rider happily praised her.

“So, firstly you are going to compete with me to see who’s stronger, Rider?”

“Exactly. Going through a true competition in the name of kingship. But we can’t call this ‘the War of the Holy Grail’, better if we call it ‘Quiz of the Holy Grail’… At the end, between the King of Knights and the King of Conquerors, who would become ‘the King of the Holy Grail’? It’s best fit to ask the wine goblet such a question.”

Rider did a u-turn from his previously solemn tone, laughing as if pulling a prank. Then he started speaking as if to himself.

“Ah, speaking of, there is another guy here who calls himself ‘king’.”

“ – The joke stops here, mongrel.”

As if responding to Rider’s vague words, a blinding golden light flashed into being in front of those present.

That sound and light made Saber and Irisviel tense up.

“Archer, why are you here…”

Saber demanded angrily, but the one replying was the impassive Rider.

“Ah, when I saw him on the streets I asked him to drink together – but you’re still late, Goldy. However he’s different from me; he walked here, so it’s not all his fault.”

Archer, in full armor, glared haughtily at Rider with burning ruby-like pair of eyes.

“Trust you to choose this cruddy place to conduct a banquet; this is probably as tasteful as you can get. How are you going to repay your sins of getting me to come all the way here?”

“Don’t say that. Come, have a drink first.”

Laughing heartily, Rider passed the wine-filled ladle to Archer.

People thought he would be angered by Rider’s attitude, but surprisingly he outright took the ladle and downed all the wine in one gulp.

Irisviel remembered the ‘challenge’ Saber spoke of before.

Archer. Since this anonymous golden Heroic Spirit calls himself ‘king’, then he couldn’t refuse the wine Rider passed to him.

“ – What kind of cheap wine is this? How can you use this kind of wine to conduct a fight between heroes?”

Archer said with repulsion written all over his face.

“Really? I bought it from the market here; it’s pretty fine wine.”

“You only think so because you don’t know anything about wine, you mongrel.”

Beside Archer, who dismissed the wine derisively, ripples appeared in the empty air. That was the harbinger of the strange event that can summon Noble Phantasms; Waver and Irisviel felt a chill running down their spines.

– But what appeared beside Archer tonight weren’t weapons; instead it was a set of wine bottles inset with sparkling gems. Colorless lucid liquid filled bottles made of heavy gold.

“Behold, this is what ‘the king's wine’ should be.”

“Oh, many thanks.”

Rider didn’t mind Archer’s tone at all and happily poured the new wine into three cups.

Saber was still on her guard against Archer, whose identity she still didn't know. She looked at the wine in the golden bottle hesitantly, but still took the cup passed to her.

“Wow, delicious!”

Rider took a small sip, and immediately complimented it with wide open eyes. This time, even Saber’s curiosity was raised. This wasn’t originally a contest of manner, but a competition undertaken with wine.

When the wine flowed down her throat, all Saber felt was a strong swelling sensation in her head. It was indeed a good wine that she’s never tasted before. Fiery and clear, mellow and invigorating, the pungent fragrance filled her nose, and her entire body felt like it was floating.

“Fabulous. This is definitely not wine brewed by humans; is this the drink of gods?”

Looking at Rider, who lavished praises, Archer displayed a leisurely smile. He was already sitting down, twirling the cup in his hand satisfactorily.

“Of course. Whether wines or swords, only the best is stored in my treasury – With this, seems like my grade as a king has already been decided.”

“Stop the jokes, Archer.”

Saber roared. The silence was broken by a tense and intimidating atmosphere.

“I’m sick of listening to you bragging about your wine collection. You’re not like a king, but rather, a clown.”

Archer sneered as he looked at Saber, who was all worked up.

“How unmannerly; someone who doesn’t even know wine isn’t fit to be king at all.”

“Enough. You two are so tiresome.”

Rider smiled helplessly and signaled at Saber, who still wanted to say something, to be quiet; then he turned and continued with the previous topic.

“Archer, this greatest of wines you have does indeed deserve to be only contained in the most prized of all cups – but unfortunately, the Holy Grail isn’t made to contain wine. Now we’re going to have a quiz of the Holy Grail to determine if one among us is indeed worthy of having the Holy Grail. Firstly, you need to tell use why you want the Grail. Archer, as a king, try to convince us you and no one else are the person worthy of gaining the Grail.”

“You’re so irritating. Firstly, we’re going to ‘compete’ for the Holy Grail. I’m afraid your question is too far removed from this premise.”

“Huh?”

Seeing Rider lifting his brows confusedly and with surprise, Archer sighed resignedly.

“It is something that should be in my possession to start with. All the treasures in the world originate from my collection. However, because much time passed, it disappeared from my treasury. But I am still its owner.”

“So you’re saying you once had the Holy Grail? You know what it is?”

“No.”

Archer evenly negated Rider’s question.

“It’s not something you can understand. The total amount of my wealth even exceeded my knowing, but as long as it’s a ‘treasure’ then it’d obviously belong to me. You should have more sense then trying to rob my treasure away.”

Now it was Saber who was speechless.

“Your speech isn’t too different from Caster’s; looks like he’s not the only demented Servant here.”

“Oi, what’s up with those words of yours?”

Different from Saber, Rider mumbled as if supporting the situation. Unknown to others, he had already picked up the bottle again and poured into his cup without care.

“Speaking of which, I think I know your true name now. There should only be one person who’s even haughtier than Alexander.”

Irisviel and Waver immediately focused on his words, but Rider changed the topic.

“Then Archer, you’re saying that we can obtain the Holy Grail if you agree to it?”

“Of course, but I have no reason to reward rats such as you.”

“Could it be that you can’t afford it?”

“Of course not. I only reward my subjects and my people.”

Archer smiled mockingly towards Rider.

“Rider, if you would like to become my subject, then I wouldn’t mind giving you a cup or two.”

“… Ah, now that’s actually impossible.”

Rider scratched his jaw, and seems to feel that the opponent’s conditions are truly too unreachable, and decisively turned his head.

“But Archer, you actually don’t care if you have the Grail or not, right? It’s not like you’re competing for the Grail because you’re trying to fulfil some wish.”

“Of course. But I can’t let go of the guy who robs away my treasure; this is a matter of principles.”

“That’s to say –”

Rider drained the wine in his cup.

“That is to say what? Could there be some cause and reason?”

“It’s the law.”

Archer replied immediately.

“The law I set down as the king.”

“Hm.”

Rider seemed to have understood his words, and took a deep sigh.

“Such a perfect king, able to stick to the laws he set down himself. However, I still want the Holy Grail very much. My way is that if I want something, I’ll get it by force; that’s because I, Alexander, am the King of Conquerors.”

“Not necessarily. If you invade, I’ll punish; there’s no room for negotiations.”

“Then we can only meet on the battlefield.”

With a solemn face, Archer nodded at the same time with Rider.

“– But Archer, let’s drink first and leave the business of battle till later.”

“Sure, unless you don’t think much of the wine I brought at all.”

“Nonsense, how can I bear to not drink such delicious liquor?”

At this moment, Saber could no longer tell if Archer and Rider were friends or foe; she merely sat aside, looking at the two. After a short while, she finally opened her mouth towards Rider.

“King of Conquerors, since you’ve already admitted that the Holy Grail is owned by someone else, you’re still going to take it by force?”

“ – Huh? Obviously. My belief is ‘conquest’… which is ‘taking’ and ‘invade’.”

Suppressing the anger in her heart, Saber continued to ask:

“Then why do you want the Holy Grail?”

Unexpectedly, Rider smiled rather shyly. He replied after taking a sip of wine:

“I want to be human.”

It was such an unexpected answer. Even Waver yelled out, and then screamed almost hysterically.

“Owww, you! Could it be you still want to conquer this world – waaaa!”

After forcing his Master to quiet down with a finger flick, Rider shrugged his shoulders.

“Idiot, how can I conquer the world in one lifetime? Conquest is my dream, and I can only bequest this first step to the Holy Grail.”

“Mongrel… you’re challenging me with such a silly wish?”

Even Archer was helpless with this, but Rider became more serious and continued:

“Say, even when we appear in the current era due to prana, we are still Servants at the end. We originally do not exist in this world – although it feels a bit ridiculous, but are you really satisfied with just that?”

“I’m not satisfied. I want to be reincarnated into this world, and live on as a human.”

“…”

Thinking back – Waver originally thought Rider’s stubbornness in refusing to exist in spiritual form, and insist in physical form, is an odd habit of his. Indeed, although Servants can talk, dress, and eat like humans, their true essences aren’t too far from ghosts.

“Why… do you want a body so much?”

“Because that is the cornerstone of ‘conquest’.”

Alexander muttered as he stared at his own tightly clutched fist.

“Possessing a body, marching out towards the ends of the earth, carrying out my conquest – that is truly my way of kingship. But right now I don’t have a body; that won’t do. Without out a body nothing can start anew. I’m not afraid of anything much; I just feel I must have a body of flesh and bone.”

As if diligently listening to Rider’s words, Archer just silently sipped his wine throughout this. Upon close inspection, one could discover he had a strange expression on his face at this moment, an expression different from his usual ones. It may be far-fetched to describe it as a smile, but compared to his usual sneer, this smile now encompassed a particularly sinister sheen.

“I’ve decided – Rider, I’ll kill you with my own hands.”

“Hahaha, saying those things even now. You’d better be prepared early as well. Leaving the Grail aside, I’m also planning to plunder your treasury too. Letting the King of Conquerors taste such delicious wine is really thoughtless of you.”

Rider roared into brutal laughter. But there was still one person here who was attending this banquet and hadn’t shown a sliver of a smile yet.

Saber, attending this banquet, didn’t find a place to join in Archer and Rider’s conversation throughout it. The way of kingship these two talked about is far removed from that she believed, so she and them don’t have any common topics at all.

Only according to your own will –

This isn’t a thought that the king should have. For Saber, who believed in incorruptness, Archer and Rider were just tyrants.

No matter how mighty the opponent might be, the unwavering battle vigor will continue to burn inside Saber’s heart.

Only these two are enemies she must not lose to. She must never let the Grail fall into their hands. Archer’s words were senseless, and Rider’s wish can only be regarded as the wish of a fighter. Moreover, it was just the beginning of all the desires of men. Compared to their wishes, the wish Saber harbors has got to be nobler.

“ – Oi, say, Saber, talk about your wish too.”

Rider finally turned to Saber. No matter when it was, the wish in her heart never wavered at all.

''My way of kingship is my pride.'' Still having her head up, the King of Knights said while looking straight at the other two Heroic Spirits.

“I want to save my homeland. I will change England’s fate of destruction.”

<center>※※※※※</center>

“How can they drink together…”

Tōsaka Tokiomi, sitting alone in his underground workshop, once again sighed for Rider’s odd behavior.

“Is it really alright to leave Archer alone?”

The magecraft communicator brought Kotomine Kirei’s rather stiff words. Tokiomi laughed bitterly.

“It can’t be helped.”

“Since it’s a meeting between kings, how can he ignore those questions directed at himself?”

It’d be fine as long as they don’t figure out the King of Heroes, Gilgamesh’s, true power. Luckily, tonight all they did was a fight on the drinking table. As long as they don’t draw swords, Archer won’t easily show ‘Gate of Babylon’.

For Tokiomi to know the occurrences at the distant Einsbern headquarters so clearly while in his own workshop is naturally thanks to the reports of the Assassin hiding there, who passed it on via Kirei. After Rider destroyed the bounded field in the forest, Assassin also successfully infiltrated the castle while maintaining his presence concealment.

The Heaven’s Feel was already in its fourth night, and Tokiomi still hadn’t taken one step out of his house in Miyama. For days, he’s stayed inside his own house, while gathering information about the current situation of the Heaven’s Feel. He had also investigated pretty much all he needed to know about the few Masters who were currently in hiding.

At this moment, the people he’s concerned about were Rider, the King of Conquerors, Alexander, and his Master, Waver Velvet.

These two had yet to fight other Servants. Tokiomi knew preciously little about them. What’s worse, due to Assassin’s mistake, the fact that Kotomine Kirei and Assassin were still alive was exposed to them.

Therefore, Kirei specifically warned Assassin to not go near Rider unless necessary. However, even with presence concealment, its power still has its limits. Disregarding Rider’s careless demeanor, the truth is that his perception is sharper than other Servants. This time, while listening in to the conversation held between these three, Kirei again told Assassin to be careful not to be discovered by Rider.

“Right, Kirei. The difference in battle strength between Rider and Archer… what do you think of it?”

“I think the key is whether Rider has a trump card even more powerful than ‘Gordius Wheel’.”

“Hmm…”

That was the problem. Compared to the four remaining Servants, only Rider makes Tokiomi and Kirei the most restless.

The Master controlling Berserker already spent a huge amount of energy, while Caster was surrounded on all sides and even had his workshop destroyed. For these two groups, their lives would die out on their own.

Gilgamesh won’t lose to a wounded Saber. Although Lancer remains unscathed, his original Master had already quited the War due to his severe injuries. A Lancer controlled by an inferior magus is no threat at all.

That’s to say, apart from Rider, the four remaining groups of people no longer needed to be spied upon by Assassin.

“… Right now, we have the need to try that plan.”

“I see. I understand.”

Without the need to speak it out, Kirei, at the other end of the communicator, already understood Tokiomi’s intentions.

To obtain precious information, they can send Assassin to test it out.

Right now, while Rider and his Master were defenselessly having a banquet, it’s a great opportunity for a surprise assault. At this time, victory doesn’t matter; the important thing is the difference in battle strength between the enemy and their side. Of course it’d be best if Rider can be smoothly disposed of; if not, then if they can force him into a desperate situation and get him to use his most powerful ultimate weapon, that would be enough as well.

“It’d take about ten minutes to gather all the Assassins together.”

“Good, give the command. Although this is a big gamble, the silver lining is we won’t be losing much even if we fail.”

For Tokiomi, Assassin was just a method to obtain the Holy Grail, a prop that can be thrown away after it’s been used. This understanding was also fully reflected on his pupil Kotomine Kirei.

When he finished speaking, Tokiomi changed his sitting pose and poured some more tea into his cup. He sniffed at the fragrance of the red tea delightfully, and waited for the result of the plan he commanded.

<noinclude>
{| border="1" cellpadding="5" cellspacing="0" style="margin: 1em 1em 1em 0; background: #f9f9f9; border: 1px #aaaaaa solid; padding: 0.2em; border-collapse: collapse;"
|-
| Back to [[Fate/Zero:Act_8_Part_4|Act 8, Part 4]]
| Return to [[Fate/Zero|Main Page]]
| Forward to [[Fate/Zero:Act_8_Part_6|Act 8, Part 6]]
|-
|}
</noinclude>

Fate/Zero:Act 2 Part 4

2011-03-29T17:30:34Z

217.129.38.97: /* -172:38:15 */

=== -172:38:15 ===




The saying goes that the hour when even trees sleep doesn't apply to magi and Servants.

The Heroic Spirit of the shadows, Assassin, has a better grasp than anyone on the complexity of being prepared in the darkness of the night.

Especially since the magi gathered in the city of Fuyuki have a double interest. Standing on the hill of Miyama town, neither of the western-styled houses of Matō and Tōsaka were left behind in term of splendor.

Masters aiming for the Grail, the two landlords were using, lately, some low-grade familiars to patrol left and right, day and night around their visible castles. Naturally, the master of the mansion must be ready, and stretched around a multitude of bounded fields for detection and defense even inside the mansion; it must be a stronghold in the magecraft sense of the term.

Stepping unauthorized into the bounded fields is all but safe, all the more for the large mass of prana that is a Servant. Essentially, even if it is a spiritual body, it should be just about impossible to slip through the bounded fields of the fortress

undetected.

However, the impossible can always be made possible. That is the Presence Concealment skill of the Assassin class. While he does not excel in battle power, Assassin can suppress his prana emission until it reaches zero to creep in the shadows and reach his target.

Additionally, for the Assassin of this time, Kotomine Kirei's Servant, this night's infiltration operation was especially easy. The garden he was now sneaking in isn't the one in the Matō mansion that has been considered enemy territory for some time. It is the mansion of Tōsaka Tokiomi, who was his Master Kirei's ally until just yesterday. Of course, Assassin too has agreed with Kirei and Tokiomi to deceive the other Masters and remain undercover. Obeying that secret agreement, he has undertaken the guarding of the Tōsaka mansion on countless occasions. Knowing all about the disposition of the bounded fields, he was naturally aware of the blind spot.

In his spiritual form, Assassin progressed through the many alarm fields without a problem, laughing at the ironic fate of Tōsaka Tokiomi. That arrogant magus has placed a considerable faith in his protégé Kirei, but can't imagine that he might be bitten by his dog.


Kirei's order to murder Tokiomi has reached Assassin not an hour ago. He is unsure of what caused Kirei to change his mind, but Tokiomi's summoning of a Servant a few days ago must be when it began. Tokiomi seems to have summoned the Servant Archer, but apparently, that Heroic Spirit must be weaker than Kirei expected. And as the merit of the cooperation with Tokiomi faded away, he agreed with the decision Kirei made this night.

"Vain prudence is unnecessary. Have no fear of facing Archer. You need to obliterate Tōsaka Tokiomi quickly."

That was the order of his Master Kirei. Against the despised, weakest fighter Assassin, he won't be afraid and won't hurry— it should be easy to betray the miscalculations of the Heroic Spirit Archer summoned by Tōsaka Tokiomi.

Halfway through the garden, the blind spot of the bounded field one could just pass through vanished. From there on, the barrier has to be destroyed by physical mean, and one need to progress while removing it. It is impossible to proceed while invisible in spirit form.

Leaning over the shadow of the vegetation, Assassin returned from spirit form to physical form, exposing his bony mask and tall, lean figure. He can feel many "eyes" all over him from afar, different from the bounded field of the Tōsaka residence. The familiars of other Masters must be observing the Tōsaka residence from outside the barriers. As long as he remains unnoticed from Tokiomi himself, there is no need

to worry about any Peeping Toms. Tokiomi's rivals disputing the Grail would never warn him of Assassin's infiltration. If one competitor drops, the others should remain unconcerned spectators.

Snickering without a sound, Assassin extended his hand at the first keystone that binds the barri—

The next instant, that hand was pierced through by a spear flying from above, shining like a flash of lightning.

"... h!?"

An intense pain, terror, and above all, shock. The simple spear strike was completely unexpected, and Assassin swung his head upward, looking for the thrower.

No, there is no need to search.

On top of the roof of the Tōsaka residence, a golden shadow stands magnificently. That divine radiance even steals the dignity of the starlit sky and puts the moon to shame.

The rage of being wounded made Assassin forget the pain, but he could only fear the overwhelming coercion.

"You worm crawling on the ground, whose pardon do you seek?"

The golden man asks indifferently to the Assassin hidden on the ground, looking down at him with

a pair of disdainful, burning crimson eyes.

"You can't look at me. Worms can only look at the ground when they die, like the worms they are."

Around the golden shadow, even more glows appeared, growing to a countless number. Suddenly sliding out of mid-air were swords, halberds, not one of them were the same, all of them treasured weapons with dazzling ornaments. And all of them were aimed at Assassin.

‘’I can't win’’. Without even thinking, Assassin realized it instinctively.

Winning against him is impossible. It's stupid to even think about facing him.

If he is able to hit Assassin, a Servant, it means that golden shadow is definitely a Servant. And if he is stopping an invasion into the Tōsaka mansion, then the Master is Tokiomi— In other words, he must be the Heroic Spirit Archer.

There's no need to fear *that*?

In his pledge to his Master, Assassin knew there was no contradiction in Kirei's words.

In front of such an overwhelming enemy, fear is— yes, there is no place for fear—

There can only be despair and abandon.


Slashing through the air in a howl, an infinity of shining blades started raining down on Assassin.

Assassin felt the eyes. The familiars observing from outside the place. The first Servant to fall in the fourth War of the Holy Grail met an unsightly end without even a retort, witnessed by the other Masters.

And at the last moment, Assassin understood. The true intention of his Master, Kotomine Kirei, and... of the leader, Tōsaka Tokiomi.

<center>※※※※※</center>

Relaxing in a comfortable chair of his room, Tōsaka Tokiomi listened to the roar of the countless Noble Phantasms drilling the ground, tearing flesh to pieces.

"Well, things are looking up. Now..."

The magus muttered to himself, his profile glowing a different gold from the other one under the lamp shade.

Just by its presence, the golden figure stood out in the dimly lit surroundings, like the one on the roof that just executed the invader. Turning into spirit form to come back to Tokiomi's room, then again

in physical form, the Servant Archer stood proudly beside his Master, who bore a satisfied face.

The figure looking around is tall and dignified and wearing a golden armor. He is a young man with golden hair standing up like a blazing flame, handsome with an elegant face. His eyes, crimson like blood, are visibly not those of a human, and whoever is stared at cannot but wither in front of their mysterious radiance.

"You made me perform some extremely trifling duty, Tokiomi."

Tokiomi stood up from his chair and bowed respectfully, yet elegantly.

"I am sorry for your trouble, king amongst kings."

As a Master to the summoned Servant, those were manners more humble than expected. But Tōsaka Tokiomi expressed his gratitude without reserve to the Heroic Spirit he had summoned. As someone from a valued lineage himself, Tōsaka Tokiomi can perfectly discern "nobility" better than anyone. He is the guest of honor Tokiomi has summoned to win this fourth Heaven's Feel, not a humble servant, but the greatest hero.

This man, Archer, in the present era, is the "King of Heroes", Gilgamesh. The tyrant who ruled ancient Mesopotamia, part divine, part human. As a hero, rooted in the oldest origin of mankind, he is amongst the oldest kings.


Tokiomi firmly believes in the value of nobility. Even with the supremacy of the Command Seals, or with the best contract, nothing can surpass ranks. Even if he was a Servant, that golden young man was one who deserved the highest honor.

"The outcome of tonight's event will save us a lot of complications. Having witnessed the power of the "King of Heroes", no stray dog will try to bite in vain."

"Mm."

Archer appreciated the truth in Tokiomi's words. Tokiomi and his upright attitude, lost in more flattery than it was necessary, also has no hope in this era. The King of Heroes could understand that.

"In a little while, the field beasts will understand who the hunting lion really is. Please have patience until then."

"Very well. I will just walk off my boredom. This era seems fairly interesting."

At Archer's words, Tokiomi glossed over his slight irritation with a sour look.

Certainly, the Servant he has contracted with is the strongest. But he gives him headaches when he wanders away for his selfish curiosity. In the present world, he hasn't spent even one whole night quietly in the Tōsaka mansion. Tokiomi devoted much effort to keeping Archer

inside the mansion for Assassin's raid tonight.

"... Does this era please you?"

"Its ugliness is beyond help. But it does hold love as it is.

What is essential is whether or not there is a treasure worthy of my fortune."

Bragging with a cynical smile, Archer gazes at Tokiomi with his red eyes full of divine authority.

"If there is not a single thing worthy of my favor in this world— the price for summoning me in vain will be heavy, Tokiomi."

"Rest assured. The Grail will definitely catch your attention, King of Heroes."

Confident, Tokiomi replied without fear.

"That will be mine to decide. ... Well, this is fine. For the time being, I will do as you say. Every treasure in this world is mine. Depending on what kind of treasure this Holy Grail is, I will not overlook mongrels fighting for it."

With that haughty declaration, the King of Heroes turned his heels and cancelled his physical form, vanishing like a mist.

"I will be your lion, and I expect to be amused. I will leave the details to you, Tokiomi."

Tokiomi dropped his head at the shadowed voice without a shadow. He didn't stop his reverence until the presence of the Heroic Spirit

had disappeared from the room.

"... Well, well."

The magus sighed deeply when the pressure from the golden man went away.

Servants receive certain skills when a class is attributed for the Heroic Spirit in the present world. Those skills are abilities such as Assassin's "Presence Concealment", Caster's "Territory Creation", and Saber's and Rider's "Riding". By the same way, a Servant being assigned the class Archer in the present world possesses the unique skill of "Independent Action".

This ability means he is capable of being severed from the Master supplying prana and act in autonomy; this is useful, for example, if a Master needs to concentrate all of his prana for a single large spell, or if the Master is injured and unable to supply enough prana. Yet on the other hand, it becomes harder for the Master to have the Servant accompany him and be completely under his control.

As an Archer, Gilgamesh's skill of Independent Action is ranked A. With this alone, he can use Noble Phantasms at will in battle and remain in the present world without the Master's back-up... But by having this, the King of Heroes was able to ignore Tokiomi's inclination and stroll around in Fuyuki City as he wished. Constantly apart from each other, Tokiomi can never be aware of his own Servant's whereabouts, or of what he is doing.

Having not a single interest in his own world, Tokiomi cannot understand what amusement a man like the King of Heroes

can find by walking around to watch people's lives.

"Anyway, for now, I can have Kirei handle it. Everything is going as planned for the moment."

Snickering, Tokiomi looked down at the garden through the window. The excess of destruction gouged when Assassin crept in made the scene look like it had been bombed.

<center>※※※※※</center>

"Assassin― has been killed?"

Disappointed by how quickly it had ended, Waver Velvet opened his eyes.

Until a moment ago, he was spying over the complete turn of the scene at the Tōsaka mansion, and his vision now returned to the room he has gotten used to ― on the second floor of the house of the old couple he lived with like a parasite. The image that was behind his eyelids until just then was coming from the vision of a rat familiar. That kind of magecraft is nothing spectacular for Waver.

With the opening of the Heaven's Feel, the first step was obviously for Waver to start by observing the Matō and Tōsaka mansions. There is a detached villa owned by the Einsberns in the forest on the outskirts, but the magus from the North

hasn't arrived yet, so there's no reason to observe an empty place.

Nothing had moved yet from both houses, and the Masters were growing tired of waiting, wondering about raiding either the Tōsakas or the Matōs; that was only wishful thinking to ease the observation, but they didn't expect it to actually happen.

"Hey Rider, here's something new. There has been one loss."

The giant, despite being called, was lying there on the floor, and only responded with an "Hmf" devoid of motivation, not even turning around.

"..."

Waver was downright pissed.

He had been doing nothing but rest his pained muscles all day in his room ―strictly speaking, that was someone else's room, but let's put that detail aside― but Waver couldn't settle down. Even though he had ordered him to go back to spirit form when he wasn't doing anything, Rider had refused, saying he felt "more comfortable in materialized form", and so he has been showing off his giant body all this time. Just dragging on the materialization means a large prana loss for the Master to supply to his Servant; that isn't too much of a problem for Waver, but in those circumstances, Rider is quite unmindful.

Harder to forgive was what Rider was doing while spending Waver's prana, which was... well, nothing, in fact. Even with Waver scornful, he

was just resting, relaxed, nonchalantly picking around in a dish and watching a rental video. Can you believe that Servant?

"Hey, did you hear me? Assassin got done in. The Heaven's Feel is starting!"

"Hmm."

"... Hey!"

As Waver was rising his voice with excitation, Rider finally turned around half of his body.

"Yeah, what about some assassin guy? A rat in hiding is not much of an enemy."

"..."

"Anyway, boy, what's amazing is that, here."

Rider turns back to face the CTR as he speaks more heatedly. The cassette is playing "an authentic account on the flight force of the world, part 4"... With a mania for military affair, Rider has put his hand on everything related, books, images. Of course, providing all of it is Waver's problem. Otherwise the giant Servant would walk in a library or video store, which isn't fine with the Master.

"There, that big black B2 thingy. It's wonderful. I'm thinking about buying

ten of those."

"―Just go and buy a country if you have that money."

Waver spat his answer out of frustration, and Rider made a serious face, moaning "Oh yeah..."

"Of course, funds are an important matter... Maybe I should plunder a city as rich as Persepolis."

Apparently, that guy, Rider, has seriously been considered conquering the world and done research on the wars of the current era. Even the information he has received from the Grail has limits. For one, he doesn't know the price of one stealth bomber.

"For the most urgent matters, this Clinton man is a formidable enemy. He might be a stronger enemy than King Darius."

"..."

Waver has endured stomachaches ever since he has summoned that Servant. He'll have a stomach ulcer by the time they get the Grail.

Shutting the giant in front of him out of his consciousness, Waver tried to think positively.

At any rate, it was a good thing for Waver that Assassin was the first to fall. Waver is aware that his own Servant, Rider, with his battle abilities,

is the type to go full frontal in a fight. With that in mind, an enemy who can plan out clever tricks is a bigger threat. And Assassin was pretty much the definition of that. An unknown Caster Servant is also a problem, but an Assassin who creeps up without revealing himself was the most direct menace.

The three main Knight classes, Saber, Lancer, Archer, then Berserker who just riots his way, are nothing to be afraid of. Rider's abilities and Noble Phantasms are enough to push them back and win. All that is left is finding out Caster's true name―

"― So, how was Assassin killed?"

Sitting up cross-legged, Rider threw a surprise attack at Waver with his sudden question.

"... Eh?"

"Yeah, the Servant who beat Assassin. Didn't you see him?"

Waver faltered. He did see him― but, just what did he see?

"Must be that Tōsaka Servant... I guess. Looked strong and aggressive, showing off with a lot of shiny-goldy things. It took only an instant, so I'm not sure..."

"That's what mattered, fool."

Along with his shocked voice, something burst in the middle of Waver's eyebrows. The completely

unexpected pain and the surprise make Waver fall off then tumble flat on his face.

That was Rider's middle finger. Holding it bent by the thumb then shot forward: that's a flick on the forehead. Of course, there was no strength in that. However, when it's Rider's finger, hard as the root of a pine tree, Waver's skin swelled red from the force.

Violence again. Corporal abuse again. Waver was confused between fear and frenzy, and was at a loss for words. This is the second time he is hit by his Servant. This is the second time in his whole life.
Unable to breathe properly because of anger, Waver opened and closed his mouth like a fish. Ignoring how upset his Master was, Rider drew a deep, grand sigh.

"You know, if I fight, it's to win and survive. What will happen if you can't observe properly?"

"...h"

Waver didn't reply. Rider was right. He doesn't want to hear it from a Servant who does nothing but lie down, eat tea cakes, watch videos, and read, but it's true that there are enemies who can become a problem.

"Oh well, never mind. That shiny-goldy or whatever, what impression did he give you?"


"I, I told you that..."

How could he have understood anything in that instant?

For starters, the attack that sent Assassin into oblivion is probably a Noble Phantasm. Even through the eyes of the familiar, he had perceived a huge burst of prana.

Yet the number of weapons that poured down on Assassin―

"... Hey, Rider, Servants usually have just one Noble Phantasm, right?"

"Generally, yes. Sometimes, there are Heroic Spirits who managed to get two or three. I myself, for example, am one of this case."

That's right, the night he arrived in the present world, Rider showed Waver a Noble Phantasm and said it wasn't his only trump card.

"Eh, there's no sense in considering the number of Noble Phantasms. As you must know, Noble Phantasms are the crystallization of the historical facts and anecdotes that made the Heroic Spirit famous, but that doesn't have to be a weapon; it can be a specific ability or a unique mean of attacking."

"... So, throwing ten or twenty weapons at once could be a "Noble Phantasm" in itself?"

"A sword that splits in an infinite number, eh? That could happen. It has the potential of being one "Noble Phantasm", yes."

"..."


Still, what defeated Assassin is yet again something different. Waver did see through the eyes of his familiar that the weapons thrown weren't all the same. That wasn't a multiplication. Those were all unique weapons.

Could they have all been Noble Phantasms after all? That shouldn't be possible. There weren't just one or two blades flooding down on the crawling Assassin.

"Oh well, that's fine, we'll know when we figure out the true identity of the enemy."

Laughing heartily, Rider slapped Waver, who was thinking deeply, on the back. The impact shook his spine and the small magus starts choking. The blow this time wasn't humiliating, but Waver could appreciate some gentler skinship.

"Are, are you quite done!?"

"Good. My heart is in joy."

Rider remarked carelessly with a daring smile.

"Food and sex, sleep and war― enjoy yourself however you want. That's the secret to a man's life."

"..."

Waver couldn't find the fun in that. Or rather, he had no experience in two of those.


"Alright, let's look for some fun outside."

Cracking the muscles in the back of his neck, the giant Servant stretched largely.

"We're departing for the front. Be ready."

"The, front... Where?"

"Over there of course, where else."

"That's nuts!"

Standing up and nearly reaching the ceiling, Rider looked down at Waver's angry face and smiled.

"You're not the only one who was observing the Tōsaka fort. This means Assassin's death is already known. So they'll all grow tired of looking out for an attack from the shadow, and they'll all start moving together at once. We'll find them and hunt them."

"Find and hunt... Like it'll be that simple..."

"I am Rider. I have predominance over the other Servants going by *foot*, you know?"

With that exaggeration, Rider drew the sword at his waist out of its scabbard. Realizing that he was about to call out that Noble Phantasm, Waver stopped him confusedly.

"Waitwaitwait! You can't do that here. You’ll blow up the house!"


<center>※※※※※</center>

That night, the expected visitor appeared at the Fuyuki Church on the hill of the Shinto suburb.

"Following the Heaven's Feel agreement, I, Kotomine Kirei, request the protection from the Holy Church."

"I accept. Conforming to my duty as a supervisor, I, Kotomine Risei, will guarantee your security. Come inside."

To the two men who had arranged everything, this was a laughable farce, but they couldn't know if there wasn't still someone spying at the gate. Kotomine Risei feigned strictly his role of supervisor with a grave face, and invited his son, weakened by his defeat as a Master, inside the Church.

With many residents from outside, Fuyuki has a lot more people coming at the church than the other towns; despite being in the Far East, this church of Fuyuki is the center of the belief from Western Europe, giving it a genuine splendor. However, the resting place of ordinary Christians is nothing more than a camouflage, as the church was built in this place by the Holy Church specifically for the Heaven's Feel. Being the third best spiritual place, it matches the mansion of the Second Owner of this earth, the Tōsaka family.

Obviously, the Father who has come here and taken over the supervision of the struggle to the death between Masters and Servants is a member of the Assembly of the 8th Sacrament. In other words, the priest who has been administrating the daily

religious service for the ordinary Christians is no other than Kotomine Risei.

"I see everything has been carried out without problem."

Leading Kirei through the priest’s house, Father Risei dropped his acting and nodded with a serious face.

"Father, who is watching over the church?"

"Nobody is. This neutral ground has guaranteed inviolability. The Church dissuades Master from interfering unnecessarily. On top of that agreement, the defeated ones are of no interest."

"We will have tranquillity, then."

Sitting on the chair that was offered to him, Kirei sighed deeply. Then―

"We shouldn't neglect vigilance, to be sure. There should always be someone."

He speaks with a cold-hearted, commanding tone to nobody. Of course his words aren't addressed to his father. Father Risei beside him doesn't see the speech of his son as strange.

"― Also, was anyone observing the scene?"

"Yes, that is me."

This time, a voice responded to the question Kirei had apparently asked at an empty space. A woman. Under cover in the corner of the room, a female appeared in black clothing that seem to boil.

Neither Kirei nor Risei raised an eyebrow to that appearance. ―But the appearance

of the woman was that of one that shouldn't be here.

Jet black robe wrapping a soft stature, a symbolic skull mask hiding her face, this costume is without a doubt that of the Heroic Spirit of assassination, Hassan-i Sabbāh.

"There were traces of four different types of familiar at the place of Assassin's death. I believe there are at least four Masters who have witnessed the scene."

"Hm... We are missing one."

Narrowing his eyes as if to think, Kirei looked at his father at his side.

"The 'spirit board' definitely indicated the arrival of seven Servants, didn't it, father?"

"Yes, without a doubt. The last one, 'Caster', arrived two days ago. As usual, the names of the Masters weren't given, but all the Servants of this Grail War must be present."

"I see..."

Kirei would have preferred all five people to witness this night's farce.

"Observing the mansion of each of the three main families should be a given for all Masters participating in the Heaven's Feel."

The woman in a skull mask standing at his side ― the one who cannot be anyone but Hassan-i Sabbāh spoke her opinion.

"If there is anyone with the nerves to ignore their guard like that, they are too

careless for us Assassin to begin with. Is this conclusion satisfactory?"

"Mm."

If the Master Kotomine Kirei had lost his Servant, the Seals carved on his hand should have disappeared. But the three deep black stigmas were still carved there.

In brief... The Servant Assassin hasn't been annihilated. Then the masked woman who was currently serving the two Kotomines must be the real Hassan-i Sabbāh.

"Is it regrettable that the man died?"

The woman shook her head with an air of indifference at Kotomine's question.

"That man was one of us Hassans who didn't have any particular forte. Losing only him does not affect us as a whole. Still―"

"Still, what?"

"I cannot say his death affects us, but a loss is a loss. You could say it is like losing a finger. I do not wish to think he was a vain sacrifice."

Kirei listened intently as the woman put forth her growing protest through her humility. Of course that was not unreasonable.

"That is not vain. You can deceive the other Masters by sacrificing one finger. They all already

believe Assassin has fallen. Do you not think all of you can now turn the tide of battle under cover?"

"Indeed, you speak the truth."

The woman in black clothing bowed her head deeply.

This time, thinking Assassin has been removed, nobody will expect the Heroic Spirit of shadows to creep up behind their back. Who would know― that the Servant Assassin was still kneeling in front of the Master who had ran to the Church.

Even for those competing for the miracle called the Heaven's Feel, that was evidently a strange situation.

Indeed, the name of Hassan-i Sabbāh doesn't refer to just one person. The name Hassan, that means "old man of the mountain", was once the root of the word "assassin", a name passed down to the head of a group of assassins in the Middle East. This means that historically, there are several Heroic Spirits with the name of Hassan. Of course, it isn't a miracle that there was one female Hassan.

But as a general rule, there can be only one Assassin summoned for the Heaven's Feel. It is theoretically possible to have control over two Servants by taking one from another Master, but having over two Assassins simultaneously means it is obvious a rule has been bypassed.


"At any rate, this marks the opening of the hostilities."

The exaggerated voice of the dignified old priest was filled with anticipation for victory.

"The Fourth Heaven's Feel has begun. It seems these old bones of mine will witness a miracle this time."

Unable to share the enthusiasm of his father, Kirei silently gazed at a dim-lit corner of the priest’s house.

<noinclude>
{| border="1" cellpadding="5" cellspacing="0" style="margin: 1em 1em 1em 0; background: #f9f9f9; border: 1px #aaaaaa solid; padding: 0.2em; border-collapse: collapse;"
|-
| Back to [[Fate/Zero:Act_2_Part_3|Act 2, part 3]]
| Return to [[Fate/Zero|Main Page]]
| Forward to [[Fate/Zero:Act_3_Part_1|Act 3, part 1]]
|-
|}
</noinclude>

Fate/Zero:Act 2 Part 3

2011-03-28T15:41:43Z

217.129.38.97: /* -222:24:48 */

=== -222:24:48 ===




Uryū Ryūnosuke disliked splatter movies. He did understand the necessity for that kind of amusement in itself, though.

Not just horror, but war movies, panic movies, and all the way to adventure movies and dramas; why does fiction keep painting man's death tirelessly?

That may be, because the spectators can minimize their fear of death by observing a fictitious imitation of "death".

Humans find pride in "wisdom" and dread in "ignorance". Hence if they can "experience" and "comprehend" a given fear, then it is a victory that resembles the overcoming of that fear.

However, "death" is merely... something that you can't experience while you live. Therefore it is impossible to understand its true meaning. That's why humans can only guess the essence of death by observing other people's death, and make up a virtual experience.


Indeed, for the civilized society to respect human life, this virtual experience cannot but rely on fiction. Yet, where war makes your neighbor minced meat with bombing and land mines, nobody watches horror movies.

Similarly, it is important to be entertained by fictional physical pain, mental stress or any kind of sorrow. When experiencing bodily sensations by yourself becomes too risky, you can overcome and remove uneasiness by observing those who do taste those sensations. ―That's why a silver screen or a cathode-ray tube bring tears of screams, grief and anguish.

That is good. That's understandable. Once, Ryūnosuke feared "death" like any ordinary person. He could have been an amateur of horror movies, if death could have been minimized and fear conquered by looking at the special make-ups of slaughtered bodies, the red ink of blood splashes and the realist acting reproducing a screaming "stale death".

Depiction of cruelty in fiction has a bad influence on young people, that much can be said; but to Uryū Ryūnosuke, this is highly ridiculous nonsense. Because if blood and screams in splatter horror

had been at least a little more realistic, he wouldn't have become a homicidal maniac.

This is, really, nothing but the result of an earnest curiosity. Ryūnosuke just had to know what "death" was. The vivid red of the haemorrhagic artery, the touch and the warmth of what was inside the abdominal cavity. The agony of the victim getting these pulled out until death, the musical tone of the screams. There really was nothing that could beat that.

People say murder is a crime. But let's think about it. Aren't there 5 billions of humans crowding on this Earth? Ryūnosuke knows well how outrageous a number that is. Because he counted the gravels in the park when he was a kid. Of course he got discouraged after ten thousand, but he didn't forget the frustration he felt that time. There are five hundred thousand times that many humans. Furthermore, it is said that the number of births and deaths everyday can be counted by the tens of thousands. What weight can Ryūnosuke have by becoming a murderer? Beside, by killing people one by one, Ryūnosuke can perfect each of their death thoroughly. Occasionally, he enjoys making sure the "process of death" takes up to half a day. With this incentive and experience, the information volume brought by one death can be much more important compared to what you can get by living a too short life. From Uryū Ryūnosuke's reasoning, can't you say that homicide is

a more productive action?

With that creed, Ryūnosuke wandered around in various places, accumulating murders. He didn't fear the law. The feeling of being imprisoned and handcuffed ―however many men it would actually require for that― was something he definitely "understood" to the point of not fearing it; he had "observed" enough deaths by hanging or on the electric chair for that. But his reason for escaping the law was, simply, because there is nothing to gain from being taken away from freedom and life in prison; hence he considered that living a life seeking everyday pleasure was better, that it was the right choice for a healthy man.

He is satisfied by squeezing the best out of the life force of those he kills, of feelings such as the attachment for human life, anger and affection. To let his victims know the exact time and circumstances of their death, that in itself had a deep meaning as rich as a miniaturized life.

When on the verge of death, very common people will behave strangely, and on the other hand, people seen as exceptional will die in an extremely banal way― observing such patterns in humans, Ryūnosuke pursued death; and while being an expert in death, he greatly studied its complete opposite, life. The more he killed people, the more he understood the lives he took.

That knowledge, that discernment in itself was a kind of dignity, a style.


Although Ryūnosuke couldn't find the words to accurately explain why he had that power― if he really had to sum it up, it would be all with the expression "be cool".

To make a comparison, it's like sprinkles in a bar or crags spraying around. Unable to get used to such a playground, loosening without knowing one's place, and not understanding one's amusement. But if it is about accumulating experience and adopting a rule of conduct, then he is a welcome regular customer in a place where he can control the mood into intimacy. That's what it is to be cool as a way of life.

So to speak, Ryūnosuke was a genuine player when it comes to be familiar with the comfort of the stool that is human life. Like that, he could look for victims savoring a cocktail of new methods, appreciating the taste of satisfaction.

This isn't some sort of metaphor; in the town, at night, Ryūnosuke's pleasure was his excellency in attracting victims like light traps for insects, with a certain interest in the opposite sex. Moreover, women were, certainly, charmed by the composure and dignity that emerged from his enigmatic posture. After seduction, he would always enjoy some alcohol, and the girls he really got into always ended as a blood-stained piece of meat.

The town at night would always be Ryūnosuke's hunting ground, and the prey would never notice

the menace that is Ryūnosuke.

Once, he saw a leopard in some animal program, and was enchanted by its elegance. He felt a connection with the brilliant modus operandi of the hunt. The leopard was the beast with a cool way of life that became his model, literally.

Since then, Ryūnosuke ended up being self-conscious of his image of a leopard. He was always wearing clothes with something from a leopard. Jacket or pants, shoes or hat, or if that was too showy, he even had socks or underwear, handkerchief or gloves. He had an amber-colored cat's-eye ring, always in his pocket even when he couldn't slip it on his middle finger, and he would always carry on himself a pendant made with a real fang.

<center>※※※※※</center>

So, this murderer named Uryū Ryūnosuke has just recently started feeling down with a serious loss of motivation.

After some 30 victims, his methods for execution and torture has started

losing its freshness as they all look the same. Testing all the techniques he can come up with, even when Ryūnosuke witnesses their dying agony, teasing his preys has already lost the taste of excitement and stimulation.

Deciding to return to the place of his origin, Ryūnosuke came home after some 5 years, breaking into the backyard storehouse as his parents had fallen asleep in this late night. It was in this storehouse that he had taken his first victim, and it was now crumbling, abandoned.

Meeting again after 5 years, his sister's body had completely changed, but she waited for her brother at the place Ryūnosuke had hidden it. The silent meeting with his sister gave him no particularly strong emotion, and Ryūnosuke was disappointed that he had come for nothing; but at that moment, he found a rotten old book from the mountain of junk crammed in the warehouse.

The thin worm-eaten book was not a printed copy but an individual note. The postscript says ninth year of the Keiō era. This writing is more than a hundred year old, dating back to the end of the Bakumatsu.

Having occasionally tapped into Chinese books during his student days, Ryūnosuke could actually read the notes without much difficulty. But the problem was the content itself. The incoherent writing of thin characters was preposterous nonsense about some kind of dark magic. Moreover, the inscriptions involved Christianity and Satan; apparently it was about

some western occults. Offering human sacrifices to otherworldly demons to invoke spirits; that was definitely fiction.

In the dying hours of the era of Edo, studying western knowledge was a genre of heresy. While a book about the occult, the most heretic of heresy, could only be a prank, Ryūnosuke had some admiration for it, and he cared little about its authenticity. It was already quite cool and funky to keep just the old book on the occult from the storehouse. That was enough of a stimulus to renew his inspiration as a homicidal maniac.

At once, Ryūnosuke made the place a "spiritual ground" as described in the notes, then resumed his night time reading. He didn't know just what meaning the land now called the town of Fuyuki had, but Ryūnosuke was setting up the important points of the mood for new killings; he followed the instructions of the old book as faithfully as possible.

When he first sacrificed a girl who had run off to play at night in an abandoned factory, the stimulus was more interesting than expected. The style of the sacrificial ritual totally captivated Ryūnosuke despite his inexperience. He became infatuated with the method, and after three failed attempts, the peaceful provincial city was struck with fear.

Like that, Uryū Ryūnosuke broke into the house of a four person family

for the fourth crime; he was by then completely intoxicated with ecstasy in the midst of the crime, and of course he started cooling off after repeating the same crime for the fourth time. The voice of reason in his head started whispering in his ears.

Ryūnosuke had accumulated crimes as he wandered all over the country. He never killed twice on the same spot, and always disposed scrupulously of the body. Most of Ryūnosuke's victims are, even now, being searched as missing persons.

But this time, a series of crimes without hiding the remains would warn people quickly; this definitely was folly. Obsessed with the method, he had completely forgotten about his usual prudence. This one was particularly bad. For the three previous ones, he had tried to draw the magic circle with blood, and mistakes made him go short on blood. So this time, to draw a perfect circle, he had decided to kill a little more than usual; but really, slaughtering a whole sleeping family might be a little too sensational. The police will be in a frenzy and everyone in the region will be increasingly wary. Going into hiding is definitely not the style of a ‘leopard’.

Ryūnosuke finally decided ― for the time being, let's leave the city of Fuyuki quiet. He will stick with the black mass as he quite liked the result, but he would have to reduce the number from 3 to 1

at a time for safety purpose.

After sorting up his feelings, a renewed Ryūnosuke decided to concentrate on the ritual again.

"♪ Fill, fill, filling, fill. With each repetition, four times― eh, five times? Err, only when it's full, break it up... Is it? Yeah."

Reciting the summoning chant, Ryūnosuke drew on the wooden floor of the living room with his bloody brush. The ceremony really is some serious business; that ambiance isn't Ryūnosuke's style at all. The serious mood was for his personal satisfaction; after all, what's important is the feeling.

Having practiced the magic circle all night, he finished it in one go. There was no need for reserves anymore, then. Even though he had killed the parents and the eldest daughter to draw their blood.

"♪ Fill, fill, filling, filling, fill, there. That's five times alright. Okay?"

The leftover blood seemed suitable for some fine art on the walls of the room. Waiting for a reaction, he turned toward the last survivor rolled up in the corner― a grade school boy gagged with a rope. The young kid was crying, his eyes swollen, looking at his torn up sister and parents.


"Say― boy, do you believe in demons?"

Asking the shivering kid, Ryūnosuke tilted his head in a dramatic act. Obviously, he wasn't expecting a reply: with his mouth gagged, all the kid could do was tremble in fear.

"You know, newspapers and magazines keep calling me a demon. But ain't it weird? A single stick of dynamite would do more victims at once than me."

Kids are nice. Ryūnosuke liked kids. Frightened adults cry and scream, so on that part, kids really are better. You can just laugh it off when they get incontinent.

"Nah, it’s fine. I'm kind of a demon. But if there were real demons beside me, I'd like to try to talk a little with them. Now that'd be nice. " 'Sup, name's Uryū Ryūnosuke, I'm a demon!" how does that sound for an introduction? That should be a good opportunity to make sure of it. If real demons exist or not..."

His good humor improving, Ryūnosuke tested his charm on the trembling kid. Normally, talking was annoying, but looking at blood― and standing in front of someone on the verge of death, he seemed to change and started getting loquacious.


The blood of 3 people was enough, and that was his only reason for letting the youngest child live. Though he did think he'd take the time to enjoy killing him later, after the completion of the ceremony―

"Anyway. If by any chance, a demon really comes out, wouldn't it be stupid to not have anything to drink and chat? So, boy... If Mr. Demon here does pay me a visit, how about a little killing?"

"...!"

The young kid could understand well enough Ryūnosuke's idea. Ryūnosuke beamed when the kid, his eyes wide open, started twisting and struggling around without a scream.

"I wonder how it is to be killed by a demon. Will it go zip or splash, that gotta be some fun to watch. Not something you see everyday― ah ouch!"

The unexpected sting was like a cold shower on Ryūnosuke's frenzy.

That was the back of his right hand. He felt an intense pain as if he had bathed his hand in a powerful poison. As soon as the pain started, the swelling calmed down and stuck on the surface of his skin.

"... What the, hell? This..."

Somehow, a pattern like a tattoo was there on his pained right hand,

and he had no idea why.

"... Eeh."

Rather than feeling anxious, Ryūnosuke reacted dandily. That incomprehensible pattern of three intertwined snakes resembled some tribal tattoo, which didn’t look half bad.

But his foppishness lasted only a moment; Ryūnosuke turned around in surprise when he felt the air move behind him.

The air grows hot. A current that shouldn't be possible indoors. Soon, the breeze changed into a whirlwind blowing in the living room.

Ryūnosuke stared at the magic circle drawn on the floor with fresh blood as it unbelievably started emitting a phosphorescent light.

He did expect some sort of abnormality to occur, but― such a blatant phenomenon was beyond his anticipation. Something big, just like in the horror movies Ryūnosuke despised. These childish effects were so laughable it wasn't funny, but it was definitely real.

The violent gust was now trampling the room, blowing off the TV, the flower vase and other furniture. In the center of the magic circle,

a mist started rising, and sparks scatter. The scene was otherworldly, but Uryū Ryūnosuke was definitely not scared. He was he child staring at a magic trick, his chest dancing from expectation.

Fascination for the unknown―

The enchantment once discovered in the marvel called "death". The radiance that disappeared unnoticed when he grew tired of accumulating murder, right now―

A flash. Then a roaring sound like a thunderbolt.

The impact ran past Ryūnosuke's body. The feeling was like being fried by a high-tension current.

The strange power once passed through the Uryū family. Now forgotten by its descendants, but still carried through their blood uninterrupted, the 'Magic Circuits' had been sleeping until this day inside Ryūnosuke; that inherited mystery was now unleashed like a tidal wave. And that "alien power" flowing in Ryūnosuke has just now started running in him, then streaming back outside to the thing invited from the underworld.

―So to speak, this was an exception amongst exceptions.

To begin with, the Grail of Fuyuki itself requires seven Servants. It isn't the capable ones who summon Servants and try to become Masters. The Grail will pick appropriate persons

until the count reaches seven.

The summoning of a Servant is also fundamental for the Grail. The hard work magi put into the ritual is only a precaution to create a bond with a perfect, reliable Servant. Even with an unskilled summoning circle and without chanting the spell, if a human has a catalyst, the requirements for the Grail can be met...

"―I ask of you"

From inside the enveloping haze, a soft yet strangely carrying voice called out.

The wind had stopped unnoticed. The light had left the magic circle, the radiance was disappearing, and the circle drawn on the floor with fresh blood was blackened as if burned up. And from inside the fading mist, the owner of the voice earlier suddenly showed his figure to Ryūnosuke.

A young face without a single crease yet. A pair of large, hulling eyes and greasy cheeks. Along with the deathly pallor of his face, he reminded Ryūnosuke of a painting from Munch.

His garments too were quite odd. His figure, tall enough to reach the clouds, was wrapped in a much-folded robe, decorated with luxurious latches made of precious metals; his whole style looks exactly like some "evil magician" from a manga.

"You who called me, you who requested for me, summoning the spirit of the Caster class... I ask for

your name. Who are you?"

"..."

Ryūnosuke gave a small response. The one who had come out of the summoning circle with great flashes and smokes― was an ordinary human. That was definitely not what he had expected. No exaggerated monster, just a perfectly normal human? Ryūnosuke was puzzled. His clothes were definitely queer, but did that mean this man was a real demon?

Scratching his head for a moment, Ryūnosuke took his decision.

"Uh, name's Uryū Ryūnosuke. I'm a freelancer. My hobby is murder in general. I like kids and young women. Recently I'm back to sharpening my basis again."

The man in robe nodded. Apparently he had ignored everything beside the name.

"Very well. The contract is complete. Your desire for the Holy Grail is my desire as well. We shall make the cauldron of heaven ours."

"Holy― Grail ?"

On the moment, Ryūnosuke didn't get what it was about. Right, thinking again, didn't the old book found in the storehouse mention something like that? And he had skipped it because the passage was dull.


"... Yeah well, let's save the troublesome talk for later."

Ryūnosuke waved his hand lightly, before pointing with his chin at the kid rolled up in the corner.

"For now, let's talk over a drink. Won't you eat that?"

The other man, with a face as expressionless as a mask, gauged the tied kid and Ryūnosuke. Feeling anxious, Ryūnosuke couldn't tell by the silence if his words and intentions had hit home. Maybe that was asking for too much. After all, who decided that demons eat children?

Silently, the man picked a book from a pocket of his robe. The bulky book appeared to be an antique treasure from an ancient era. No doubt it was some gadget of the demon.

Ryūnosuke noticed in one glance what hide the cover was made of.

"Ah, cool! That's human skin, right?"

Ryūnosuke can recognize it because he once tried to put up a lamp shade with human skin pelt off a victim. Eventually, he got discouraged at his poor handicraft midway, but he can't help but respect an elder who has achieved a similar work through the end.

The man, casting only a glance at Ryūnosuke, ignored his compliment and gently opened the book, his hand rapidly flipping through the pages; he then muttered one or two words that made no sense, and as if it was enough, closed the book before putting it back in his pocket.


"... ?"

Leaving the helpless Ryūnosuke, the man walked toward the boy rolled up on the floor. At the strange events that had kept happening, the boy winced harder as if death was inevitable, trying to crawl away from the man.

Looking at the child in such a state, the man seemed suddenly full of compassion and kindness, which startled Ryūnosuke. What does that mean?

"― You have nothing to be afraid of, my boy."

Unlike what his odd appearance suggested, the strange man gently spoke to the boy. The imprisoned kid gradually notices his warmth, and looks at the man questioningly.

As a reply, the man gives a smiling nod, bending toward the boy and extending his hand at him― gently untying his ropes and gag.

"Can you stand?"

As an encouragement, the man patted the boy on the back, helping him up.

Of course, Ryūnosuke had no doubt the man was a devil, but he was really dissatisfied with how he was treating the child. Is he actually going to let

him live?

Anyway, no matter how you looked at him, the man is queer. When silent, his features would look dreadful like the face of a corpse, but when smiling without any apparent maliciousness, he would seem as pure as a saint.

"Now, my boy, the door over there will lead you out of this room. Don't look around, walk straight forward by yourself. Can you do that by yourself?"

"... Yes..."

At the boy's brave nod, the man responded with a bright smile, softly pushing his back.

The boy started running lightly across the bloodstained living room, as he avoided looking at the corpses of both his parents and his sister as instructed.

"Hum, hey..."

Of course Ryūnosuke couldn't ignore it all and spoke, but the man quickly interrupted him with a hand sign. Overpowered, Ryūnosuke helplessly watched the kid escape.

The boy opened the door and stepped into the corridor. In front of him was the entranceway. His eyes drowned in fear until then were now shinning again in hope and relief.

The climax came the next instant.

The boy was leaving the stairs behind him, facing the entranceway. From the second floor, invisible from

the living room, something suddenly fell down in an avalanche on the young boy. A bundle of heavy ropes ― no, a flock of countless snakes ― an indescribable life form, or rather, a living creature twined around the boy's whole body, and with an otherworldly force, took away the young body up to the second floor.

Then― a soul-rending scream. The clicking tongues of an infinite number of creatures, and the echo of small bones crushed. The rashness of whatever was happening on the upper floor easily stimulated imagination even without witnessing it.

The strange man closed his eyes and raised his face, listening to the nightmarish sound, drunk it in attentively. His hand shivered. Apparently he was deeply moved.

But the emotion was just as great for Ryūnosuke... No, as he didn't expect something like that to happen; the catharsis was far more intense for him.

"There is a certain freshness in fear."

The lingering memory of the horror he had himself planned out hadn't drawn out yet ―there now was no remaining doubt he was a devil― when he started speaking, and his voice sounded like he was entranced in a dream.

"Fright is about the feeling that you will die. The true meaning of terror doesn't lie

in a static condition, but in a change― this is the instant when hope is turned into despair.

How was it? The smell of fresh fear and death."

"― Kh ―"

Ryūnosuke was at loss of words.

The 'thing' that was feasting on the kid's remains upstairs was, apparently, the man's doing. He was the one who had appeared from the bloody magic circle, after all. There was no possible doubt something had happened when he had opened his book with the binding made out of human skin.

The method was nerve-racking, but that is what is splendid in this philosophy. Ryūnosuke was no match for the creativity and perfect aesthetics of such evilness. Him who held such a vivid and moving "aesthetics of death" deserved the greatest praises.

"Cool! That's wicked! Man, that was super cool!"

Feeling like dancing with joy, Ryūnosuke grabbed the man's hand and shook it. Making friends with this strange man was no less moving than meeting a celebrity. The mass murderer Uryū Ryūnosuke finally felt adoration and respect from the depth of his heart for someone in this boring world.

"Okay! I don't know about this Grail thing, but I'll follow you! I'll help you in whatever you want. We'll kill more. There are plenty of sacrifices. Show me more

of your cool killings!"

"You are a pleasant fellow."

Understanding of Ryūnosuke's emotion, the man replied gently to his violent handshake with a pure smile.

"Ryūnosuke, was it? It is a good omen I got a Master as understanding as you. This is developing more and more into an ideal situation for my aspirations."

When a summoning is made without a catalyst, the Heroic Spirit will be one that has a similar mindset as the Master. The one summoned by the vicious murderer was one who had left his name on extremely cruel acts; he was a Heroic Spirit with a taste for true tyranny. Or rather, based on that nature, it would be more suitable to call him a vengeful spirit instead of a heroic spirit.

"Ah―, right, I didn't get to hear your name."

Remembering about the important parts, Ryūnosuke started acting more familiarly.

"My name, yes. Indeed. For this era, you could call me..."

The man put a finger to his lips, then after thinking a little,

"... Then, for now, you can call me "Bluebeard". Pleased to meet you."

He replied familiarly with an angelic smile.

Thus, for the last position of the fourth Heaven's Feel ― the Master and his Servant

'Caster' completed the contract. This is how, without knowing the meaning of the Grail War or his nature as a magus, the casual murderer received Command Seals and a Servant.

For a trick of fate, this may be the foulest play.

<noinclude>
{| border="1" cellpadding="5" cellspacing="0" style="margin: 1em 1em 1em 0; background: #f9f9f9; border: 1px #aaaaaa solid; padding: 0.2em; border-collapse: collapse;"
|-
| Back to [[Fate/Zero:Act_2_Part_2|Act 2, part 2]]
| Return to [[Fate/Zero|Main Page]]
| Forward to [[Fate/Zero:Act_2_Part_4|Act 2, part 4]]
|-
|}
</noinclude>