Archer had chosen the Vatican Hill for the plain and obvious reason that it was the highest point. From its summit, he enjoyed a sizeable view of the north, west, and south regions of the perimeter of the Eternal City. His arrows of flame were a vice choking the city’s artery: anybody attempting the cross the Tiber was shot down. Any ships attempting to make the supply run were set ablaze. With Rider’s and Lancer’s undying armies lashing at the walls and Chiyou’s Noble Phantasm infecting more and more of the city’s inhabitants with every passing day, the city was tumbling down towards the precipice.
It was…disappointing. Too easy. The city would fall too easily. It was merely a matter of how long before Emperor Nero herself succumbed to the Banner of Chiyou.
But he could not put this on their enemies’ weakness. The soldiers of Rome fought bravely, repelling Rider’s beasts and Lancer’s Wild Hunt day after day, even as their numbers fell with every engagement. If anything, it was commendable of them to have lasted so long against the concerted effort of so many Servants.
“What troubles you, Archer?”
The voice belonged to the other Rider, the one who was not an Aspect of Chiyou. The dancer who claimed to be a European Servant despite her attire and her obvious Semitic features. A woman whose every word was laced with poison.
“I…merely think. I still find it hard to believe I have set my eyes upon Rome.”
To him, the Romans were merely “the enemy from the west”. But the Romans he had fought did not even hold Rome at the time, as the empire had broken into halves. Stilicho’s efforts were in vain, and then Alaric besieged it. The Rome he had heard about was no longer brilliant or powerful. It was therefore with mixed feelings that he witnessed the legendary imperial Rome and its gradual collapse, in part by his hand. Yet, he could not escape the call to greatness, nor his heart’s wish to make himself the despoiler of Rome.
This city was the prey Chiyou had presented him. A greater glory he could hardly imagine.
“Yet your eyes shine with amusing luster,” replied the brown-skinned dancer. “Men are truly easy to please: you can be happy with only meat in your gut, women to fuck, and toys to break.”
That brought laughter to his gut, and he let it out boisterously.
“Well, my lady, life is rarely that comfortable. Do not blame us for enjoying the simple comforts when within our reach.”
“Speaks the one who lived a life surrounded by palaces and wives.”
“Oh, so I made my identity that obvious.” More laughter. “Well, well, not like it matters. We have not been summoned to a Holy Grail War.”
“Hnn.” It was regrettable, he thought, to see such a disgusting snarl from such a beautiful face.
“If anything, it’s stranger, having all these different Servants working together.”
Archer looked up at the gathering clouds assembled by Caster. It was a hassle having to snipe in this windy weather. Conjuring a massive hurricane right atop the city would be the grand finale. Rome would be shattered. He thought it was a bit overkill.
“Do not confuse us with Chaldea, Rider. They are truly working together. We…we are merely Servants sharing a single summoner. Attack dogs she has set upon that city. We do not work together; we just share the same target.” He paused. “Well, you may be the exception. She sent you on some sort of separate assignment.”
“Well.” This time, Rider winced and shook her head. “The alternative was saying no to her.”
Archer nodded, for once feeling a smidgen of compassion and relatability to this woman. It was the feeling shared by all of them.
Infuriating as it was, opposing Chiyou was not an option. Furthermore, the gradual destruction of Rome was obviously making her stronger. It was with a heavy feeling that he realized there was nothing they could do about it. They simply could match the one who was perhaps the finest warrior at the dawn of civilization. No, even if they all turned their weapons on her, she only had to use that same Noble Phantasm currently tearing apart Rome from within—
“Oh well, I’m just here for the report. Anything of note, Archer?”
“No,” he said after a long silence. “They have learned their lesson since yesterday. I haven’t had to fire a single arrow today. The west flank is clear and under control.”
“Aye aye. I leave you to your solitude, then. You know better than to slack at this point.”
This was not a woman whose company he desired, so he nodded in calm acceptance of his role. Left alone once more, he was happy to admire the Eternal City he had only heard about in tales. There was a sort of grim majesty even as it collapsed from within. He almost shed a tear when the first fire rose taller than the city walls.
“This,” he muttered to himself. “It should be so much more heartening than this.”
Archer felt not the elation of triumph. He could only blame Chiyou’s sadistic strategy, and there was nothing he could do about it—
A horse, swift like the storm, charged out of the northwestern forest; a mad dash towards the bridge. Chiyou had given the command not to destroy the bridges on the Tiber, and he hated both the order and its purpose.
“Curse that woman!” he hissed as he took a shooting stance. Two people rode atop the powerful steed, and a third person ran behind, slowly losing to the difference in speed. It was not a chase; they were simply dashing at fast as each could.
His bow was ornately beautiful as befit a king, but it was not a Noble Phantasm. The flame arrows conjured from his magical energy were not mere flame, however. He, who had helped spread the holy flame throughout his empire, now received its blessing.
He could guess this was the group from Chaldea, therefore the Master was the one holding to the rider for dear life. There he let loose his barrage of arrows, a rate of literal fire only possible because he was not using solid ammunition, nor was he bothered by the burden of reloading.
For once, his targets would not succumb to his barrage in an instant. At last, his bow was set upon Servants. The warmth in his heart pulled his lips into a broad grin.
“Yes! This is what I was hoping fo—”
Thick vital fluid burst out of his mouth and out of the new hole on his left side. He stumbled, but quickly turned that lapse into an evasive roll. He had not seen the attack coming, therefore—
“Assassin!”
A horned girl in a frilly dress assaulted him with musket fire. He felt there was a tinge of desperation on her face, and a disappointing recklessness to her attacks. This feeling only intensified when he returned fire, quickly taking initiative from her. He chased as she darted into the nearby forest, the two Servants running downslope in the direction of the imperial gardens. Even if there was a clear difference in their base specs, he was not one to look down on a Servant, any Servant.
“That was your one and only chance, little girl!” He taunted.
“Tell me something I don’t know! And why does everybody keep calling me that!?”
The girl outdid him in overall agility; it was getting harder to catch a glimpse of her with every passing second. Soon enough, he would lose her—no, this was not merely a consequence of superior agility or the trademark elusiveness of the Assassin-class Servant.
“This…is not the usual Presence Concealment! A stealth Skill that flourishes in this kind of environment?”
“Damn it, you’re sharp!”
He did not waste an instant to rain arrows in her overall direction. The delicious glimpse of a thigh almost made him pause—it would be a waste to singe it with his flame—, but the alternative was losing her again, so his hunt continued.
“Haha, that should be obvious! I am a king!”
“Like that’s supposed to mean anything to me!”
Archer smirked. She could have taken to the open field to try to catch up to her allies, but she chose to stay and run circles around him. It was obvious her stealth—or was it more like camouflage? —Skill worked best in this forested area.
“At this pace, I might just raze this entire forest to ashes, little Assassin!”
“Animals live here, you ass! Isn’t that a bit too much of a dick move!?”
Normally he would feel a bit put out by the crass language, but he was admittedly enjoying himself. He wasn’t normally this talkative when engaged in a difficult hunt, for once. He didn’t even feel the wound anymore.
“Ahaha! You may be no lion, but you make for a much finer prey!”
Something changed at that moment. She saved herself the shrieking reply. Instead, she disappeared. He could no longer see her, but for a moment her ill intent spiked and permeated his surroundings like thick mist.
“It seems my words have roused her anger for whatever reason,” he mused. “Have I suddenly become the hunted once again?”
Archer was very careful and very watchful. He knew himself better than anyone; as a Servant, he was a purely offensive combatant, and in contrast his defenses were lacking. He needed to find her, but at this point he could not start shooting indiscriminately and set the entire place on fire. Those words were merely a taunt; such an act would be unworthy to the holy fire.
It took him almost a minute of tensely waiting for her sneak attack to realize he’d been had.
“That little—!” He hissed in a surprisingly (to himself) upbeat mood as he hurried out of the sea of trees. Indeed, the girl was already halfway to the Tiber. She constantly glanced over her shoulder, and when she caught sight of him aiming his bow, he could all but hear her frightened shriek all the way to the hill slope.
“Well aren’t you quick, little girl. Both to think and to flee!”
More worrisome to his eyes, however, was the mounted Servant and her escort, who were almost to the bridge.
“That was a fine distraction, but we cannot let it end like this, can we?”
The knocked arrow grew twice as long and twice as thick; the arrow of flame became a stake as it fed from his magical energy. His mightiest technique would engulf the entire space between the hill and the river.
“This is the holy flame; the immaculate hand of sanctity; the perfect blade of the god of victory! Blessing of the war god, martial hand of Asha Vahishta!”
The arrow was released, and the spike of flame pierced the sky, opening a hole on the world itself.
“
Atash-i Vahram
Everburning Flame, Consume All the World’s Evil
!”
From within the omnitemporal realm of divinities that long ago abandoned this world, the true holy fire poured out onto the field like burning oil. But this was no mere inert flame, for it carried the punishing will of the bringer of victory. The flame shaped itself, and a flame warrior with a mighty sword unleashed his mighty swing. Atorrent of flame like a blazing wave sought to engulf the young Assassin.
“She dodged, huh. Well, can you evade all ten attacks, child?”
The horse had come to a halt, allowing the runner to catch up and plant herself in front of the mounted knight and the Master of Chaldea. The small spear bearer stabbed the ground in front of her with her weapon before throwing herself beneath the horse’s bulk—
“A defensive Noble Phantasm!”
A prism-like barrier surged from the ground upwards—a perfect guard that normally would save a single person became able to protect the Master and the two Servants by making the horse the primary target. They disappeared within the barrage of flame bullets launched by the second manifestation of flame—the adolescent boy—, but Archer doubted they would come to harm; that Lancer would have relied on her Noble Phantasm if she was not certain it would succeed. As for the little Assassin…
She ran—scampered, really—between the thick legs of the huge bull of flame as it rampaged, avoiding it by running under its bulk.
A sudden flip to the side pulled her out of the path of the trampling horse.
The flip transitioned into a somersault to leap over the camel out to stomp her head.
A fioriture more suitable to a ballerina than a huntress, and she danced out of the way of the charging boar.
As if
she had always known it was there, she looked up at the diving bird of prey, leaping out of the way late enough to prevent it from correcting its trajectory, but not so late she could not avoid the ensuing explosion.
Archer carefully studied Assassin’s actions as she further dodged the ram and the goat. More specifically, what she did and
what she looked at right before her evasive maneuvers. Simple speed was not sufficient to dodge all those attacks.
“That girl…that girl possesses Clairvoyance. No, future sight!”
That little Assassin was her diametrical opposite: her skillset was almost desperately focused on
staying alive.
However, the flames had effectively blocked the path to the Chaldean Master and his Servants, and the final attack, the firestorm, would swipe the entire area and leave no room for avoidance.
But the girl had also anticipated that.
Her evasive maneuvers seemed desperate, but they were purposeful. She could not reach the bridge, so she just leapt into the Tiber, where his holy fire would not reach. It could not—natural water was just as holy.
“Hmph. Not bad, child. I praise you.”
Letting his bow fall, Archer closed his eyes and remembered Chiyou’s—Assassin’s—instructions.
Do your best to stop them from entering the city. You will fail, but it won’t matter as long as the Assassin girl is separated from Chaldea.
It brought a sigh to his lips. They kept dancing on the palm of her hand.
“What a crass spectacle. I might feel like departing before the finale.”