The Invincible War God Has No Friends (Hawaiian Remix)
Chīyóu was seriously taking it easy. She was taking it so easy, she went through the effort of tampering with her Saint Graph so that she could properly take it easy.
She could blame the mood around Chaldea, as the Servants all got into something she vaguely heard was called “Serva☆Fes”. She could also blame Hawaii’s summer weather that incited her to just settle down, forget about troublesome things, and relax. But the truth was that Chaldea was causing her a lot of stress.
Even a couple of months after her arrival, she still couldn’t get along with anybody. She was a true loner, aimlessly wandering the halls of Chaldea with nothing to do, and there was nothing more frustrating.
Sure, there was Barbatos, and they kinda got along and Chīyóu called her
waifu, but she was not so dense as to not understand that the former demon god would rather be left alone to focus on her duty of looking after the Master and humanity as a whole, because Barbatos was that kind of overly nice, hardworking
tsundere idiot.
And, of course, there was the Master of Chaldea himself. He was her friend, of course, but then again, he was everybody’s friend; an all-around “nice guy”.
No, it was more than being just “nice”.
He never judged. He always accepted.
Chīyóu was not sure whether to call that “tolerance” or just plain gullibility, but it had somehow earned him the acceptance of every single Servant he had summoned, herself included. So, yeah, the Master of Chaldea was her friend. But that was nothing special. It was the Servants she couldn’t get along with, for the same old reasons as ever.
She had gotten tired of trying and getting the same awkward rejections every single time, so when the Servants “left on holiday”, she followed them to Hawaii by her lonesome, and decided to just give up and stop thinking about it. That’s how she ended up loafing on a beach recliner under the shade of a large, many-colored parasol, next to a charming white table littered with empty cocktail glasses. A pair of metal fans swayed autonomously, fanning their lord and goddess with the cool beach air.
“Uwaa, this is bad,” she muttered, even if her relaxed voice did not match the words. “I can feel myself becoming a worthless being…”
She knew very well those were not words her hard-working, overachieving Saber-class self would never say. It seemed the adjustments to her Saint Graph were more successful than expected. She couldn’t blame the dozens of cocktails; there was no way she could be affected by something like alcohol.
So, she had spent her days loafing on some chair on one of the many available beaches, drinking and taking the occasional swim. Servants did not approach her, and she was in “giving zero fucks” mode, so she would not approach them either. That did not mean she spent her days completely alone. When somewhat-creepy people who did not know who she was approached her asking for pictures, she always gave the same answer.
“Do whatever you want. I’m not moving from here, though.”
Just like every other day, Chīyóu was being photographed by men a little too driven by the worthless thing dangling between their legs, hearing things like “Haa, haa, brown skin little girls are the best…”, or “Please give us an upturned gaze!”, or “Please step on me while I rub sunscreen on your leg!”
Seriously, aren’t these people way beyond hopeless already? Where do they even come from?
In all honesty, she just wanted to fall asleep by this point. But, alas, that was not to be.
“What is this? Who’s the second-tier goods who doesn’t know her place? Stealing the spotlight? No, it’s the spotlight that comes to its rightful mistress. So, taking it from me is the epitome of folly—geh, it’s you.”
Chīyóu opened a single eye to check out the bikini-clad newcomer, long enough to find a name in her mental database.
“You say a lot of strange things, Queen Medb. So, how’s it going?”
Apparently, the Celtic monarch found her lazy attitude irritating, because her foot stomped the sand hard, which for some reason made the men around them squirm.
“It’s ‘Queen Medb’ to you, Eastern demon, for what is this place but my kingdom?”
“…huh. Nice beach you’ve got here, Your Highness,” said Chīyóu lamely before taking a sip of her latest mojito. “Hope you don’t mind me taking a nap in your kingdom today.”
She followed by stretching her body languid after hours resting on the same spot, which elicited an excited “uwoooh!” from the male audience, and fuming from the bikini queen, who was obviously the kind of woman who would assume Chīyóu did that on purpose.
“Kiii! You can’t stay here! You’re getting in the way of my photo shoot.”
“I…honestly don’t see how.”
Chīyóu was not blind to what was happening. Were she another person, Medb would have already resorted to insults and threats to get her way. It wasn’t that Medb was afraid of Chīyóu—it would take a lot more to elicit fear out of Queen Medb—, but there was certainly trepidation; the same thing Chīyóu saw in the eyes of almost every Servant in Chaldea.
Chīyóu didn’t need Clairvoyance to read Medb’s thoughts.
“If I bring out my Caladbolg, she’ll bring out her own and beat me with it.”
Medb had no way to know Chīyóu had sealed her
War God’s Infinity when she switched to holiday mode, and Chīyóu did not feel like telling her.
Besides, there were other things to worry about, like everybody who was not Medb had already noticed.
“Look behind you.”
The pink-haired queen rolled her eyes and crossed her arms under her generous bust.
“Really? You think so lowly of me, evil god?”
Chīyóu wanted to roll her own eyes, but she didn’t want to irritate Medb any further.
“No, seriously, look behind you. Your men are getting their butts kicked.”
Indeed, monsters have surged out of the waves of Waikiki to attack the beachgoers. Ugly, spiny starfish-like creatures lashed with their gross, squiggly arms.
“Uwah! What’s with these gross things!?” exclaimed the queen as she rushed into battle. For that, she got an appreciative nod from the God of War. Indeed, a ruler should be the first to move in defense of her kingdom. Chīyóu, on the other hand, was in lazy mode, so she didn’t move from her resting spot.
However, there was something about those monsters that bothered her. She was already aware of the local fauna being affected by the singularity, but these creatures did not give her the feeling of mere transformed animals.
“Ew, what’re they spitting?”
“Gah, it’s all sticky and gross!”
“No, it’s way too sticky! It’s like I’m soaked in tar!”
Chīyóu calmly listened to the disorderly sounds of battle. She worried not—even if Medb’s soldiers and other beachgoers were struggling against the monsters, if not outright running away from them, the creatures were not a threat to the Queen of Connacht.
That is, until something considerably bigger and meaner literally leapt out of the ocean, announcing its presence with a loud roar Chīyóu felt resonating balefully within her body.
“This is…some form of conceptual interference? Hey, hey, this is kinda…”
“Gah!” Medb was a lot louder about the whole thing. “A giant Soul Eater now? Brave soldiers, comes to—wait, my Charm! Where has my Charm gone!?”
“Skill seal?” murmured Chīyóu. “Could it be, that’s not a Soul Eater, that’s…?”
Medb was spared a rather nasty bite when the monstrosity was blown away by a blast of concentrated pressure waves. She promptly glared behind her, where Chīyóu was still relaxed on her recliner.
“I don’t need your help!”
“Look, the faster this is over the better!” The God of War dismissed Medb’s complaints and dispatched her flying weapons to smash and slice the huge beast.
Chīyóu thought of her Master, but he was busy doing…something with Jeanne Alter; she did not quite get the details. Besides, he would have his hands full resolving the singularity. Everybody was in a festive mood; the other Servants would not be pleased if she urged them to deal with this annoying issue, and it wasn’t like she was particularly liked by them in the first place.
All in all, it looked like she would have to be a good Servant and take care of this in her Master’s stead.
“Uuugh, I really don’t want to do this. Goddammit, Barbatos, why did you stay in Chaldea? It’s your job to deal with annoying shit like this.”
*** ***
Queen Medb did get what she wanted, because Chīyóu left the beach and took to the streets, all the while wondering how to find the mastermind. The obvious solution was asking, but that would imply striking a conversation with the other Servants.
She sighed.
“I’m already tired…I want to sleep…”
Of course, her relationship with the other Servants aside, she was sure she could just shout “who wants to help me beat someone up?” and gather a throng of battle idiots without issue, but Chīyóu somehow felt that would be a problem in itself. Considering the loose atmosphere of this “Servant Holiday”, it felt better and more prudent to keep the matter to herself for now.
Then again, thinking on it, if anybody had seen the one Chīyóu was looking for, there would have been an outcry. Chīyóu found it hard to believe
that one could walk the streets of Waikiki without drawing attention, even in the midst of this festival of weirdos.
It meant that, if anybody saw
that one, it must have been somebody who either did not recognize her or simply did not care.
Which brought the invincible war god to…
“Are…are you trying to feed Poi to your hippogriff?”
“Yeah!” The paladin, Astolfo, cheerily replied while attempting to shove a wooden spoonful of the starchy meal into the beak of the magical beast, who was showing resistance worthy of a Heroic Spirit.
“I want his impression of it.”
“So, he’s just a guinea pig.”
The creature’s sharp eyes glinted as if it had just become aware of this fact, and further emboldened its resistance, at this point only limited by its reluctance to harm its lunatic master. Chīyóu felt somewhat happy to discover that a hippogriff could be expressive enough to cry “help me!” without words.
“Aaaah!” Astolfo complained when the god of war took the wooden spoon from him.
“Come on, at least mix it with some salmon. This guy’s a carnivore, isn’t he?”
“Um! He’s already feasted on the chickens!”
“You really will just eat anything, will ya?” Chīyóu smirked at the chimeric creature, whose face seemed to say “don’t judge me!”
“I sure hope those chickens didn’t belong to someone.”
“Hey, hey, Miss War God.”
Chīyóu tiredly glanced at the dainty index finger poking her.
“I have a name.”
“You said something interesting about salmon.”
Chīyóu stared at Astolfo’s radiant, smiling face, as she experienced the strong sensation of having been outfoxed somehow. It made her roll her eyes.
“Fine, let’s get you loons some salmon.”
“Yay! Miss War God’s a great person after all~”
“Your definition of greatness is the worst.”
“Let’s be friends!”
“I don’t want this kind of friendship.”
“Boo!”
Some time later, a bored-looking Chīyóu was watching Astolfo engulf fish in a most unfeminine way. It made her wonder how some people could still doubt his gender. In any case, having settled down for the time being, the Chinese god had her chance to pry for the info she sought.
“A strange Servant…? Um, it’s gonna sound weird coming from me, but I think we’re all strange in some way or another.”
“And that might just be the most insightful thing you’ll ever say,” Chīyóu conceded. “Okay, let me rethink that question. What about a Servant you didn’t recognize?”
“Uuuh, well, it’s not like everybody here is from Chaldea, and even in Chaldea there are a few I still don’t know by name…there’s, like, a whole bunch of us Servants in Chaldea by now.”
“Tell me about it. Before coming here, I thought it couldn’t get any nuttier.”
Chīyóu clicked her tongue while the other Servant devoured without regard for manners, the hungry look of the large winged beast watching from outside, or Chīyóu’s wallet.
How to reframe the question to get anything out of Astolfo without outright stating who she was looking for?
“Well, how about a Servant that looked lost, or confused or out of her element? Or maybe just one that gave you a strange feeling, like ‘is that really a Servant?’, that kind of feeling.”
“Hoo…” Astolfo murmured, seemingly more interested in the conversation at this point. Then he slurped a salmon filet like it was pasta, and Chīyóu winced.
“Is there that kind of interesting Servant around here? Hmm…well, there’s that ‘Foreigner’ I’ve heard about…”
“Yeah, yeah, I know about that one. Not the one I’m looking for. Got anything else?”
“Hmm…ah, maybe, well, there’s, I mean—” Chīyóu calmly waited for Astolfo to stop coughing, ignoring the bits of chewed fish that escaped his mouth.
“Jackie is looking for some ‘tall, white beauty’ she caught a glimpse of last night. Something about getting ‘the strongest mother-like feeling’ from her. Jackie said she tried to catch up to her, but then monsters popped up out of nowhere and she lost her in the scuffle.”
Chīyóu merely jumped to her feet and slammed a bunch of bills on the table.
“Stuff yourself with this. I gotta go.”
“Hoe?” Astolfo somehow managed to kinda-vocalize with his cheeks stuffed with food. “Wheh ya goin’?”
“Gotta catch up with Jack the Ripper!” exclaimed the war god already outside the establishment. “It’ll be bad if she finds her before I do!”
However, she stopped herself before taking to a superhuman dash. She looked at Astolfo one last time, whose inflated cheeks made for a somewhat funny, somewhat repugnant image.
“Actually, do me one last favor once you’re done spending my cash, will ya? Find someone else for me.”
*** ***
Mata Hari was having a bit of trouble keeping up with things. She thought she had gotten used to being a Servant and living among them, but the she got another reminder of the fact that she was simply not like the others. She was too small a figure, too insignificant a note in history, and it was reflected in the feebleness of her Saint Graph.
That is why she could only look on in anguish and shame while a child, the lovely, innocent, and very lethal Jack the Ripper, fought to protect her from the gargantuan serpent that manifested in Hilo.
Of course, she recognized the serpent. She was acquainted with the Queen of Assyria and the divine beast she commanded. Unfortunately, that knowledge also explained why it was such a difficult enemy. It was not only unfathomably tough, it was also too agile for its size, uncannily keeping Jack at bay and impeding her small blades from piercing its dark skin.
It was hard to believe just moments earlier they had been looking for Boudica and the other child Servants to plan that evening’s BBQ.
Jack was one of the most agile Servants she knew, but the little serial killer’s specialty was killing humans, not ludicrously fast monstrous serpents with venomous breath weapons. The divine beast was in no way inferior to the small Assassin.
Of course, Mata Hari understood she did not stand a chance. Semiramis was a fellow Assassin, but were they to do battle, that giant serpent would swallow her whole before the first sway of her hips.
However, that did not mean she could do nothing. Or rather, Mata Hari refused to do nothing.
Clenching both fists and her jaw, straightening herself to face death with the chin up, and entirely ready to become nothing but a meat shield for the little Jack, Mata Hari took the first step forward.
“That’s right, Mata Hari. That is the right answer.”
The giant serpent was suddenly thrown to the side, as if struck by an invisible fist.
“No matter if you are the mightiest Servant or the weakest mortal, whether you are a hero or an anti-hero. If you are an adult, it is your duty to protect a child.”
It was a pair of metal fans, moving autonomously in the air, their swipes releasing mighty blasts of air. When the Bašmu released its cloud of deadly poison, the fans blew it away from the Servants.
“Goddess Chīyóu! You are most helpful!”
“Not really,” blandly retorted the dark-skinned little girl. “This time I’m leaving it to those idiots.”
Mata Hari did not need to wait a second before Scáthach, Beowulf and Saint Martha fell on the divine beast like murderous war gods.
Just like she had predicted, pulling them into a battle was beyond trivial.
In any case, this allowed Jack to retreat to Mata Hari’s position. Chīyóu greeted her with a shameless pat on the head.
“Thanks for holding out, pretty girl. Let those battle idiots take care of the rest, and you can go back to having fun.”
“Ah, it’s the sis that makes weapons! Aloha!”
“Aloha to you too, sweet thing. Where’re the rest of your little friends?”
Apparently, she asked the right question, because the small Assassin smiled radiantly.
“Boudica’s making a BBQ at the beach tonight! Nursery Rhyme and Lily are already with her.”
“A barbeque? We’re in Hawai’i, you should try one of those underground ovens and roast one of those, what’s them called? Kalua pigs. But, more importantly,”
The God of War bend her knees to match the height of Jack’s eyes, resting a hand on the white-haired girl’s shoulder. A distance away, a second Bašmu approached, this one ridden by the legendary Queen of Assyria.
“That beautiful lady, you saw her before this monster appeared, didn’t you? Tell me all about it.”
Mata Hari, who had noticed Semiramis’ approach, quickly connected the dots and looked at Chīyóu with alarm.
“You mean—!?”
Chīyóu stopped her with a single finger on her lips.
“Leave that to me. You make sure this girl has a fun barbeque.”
*** ***
South Point.
Literally, the southernmost point in the island of Hawai’i. The Pacific Ocean strikes an elevated cape, its waters a vivid blue almost demanding to be captured in picture.
The Sun fell on the distant west, but there were not many shadows to be cast. Devoid of tourists, it was a vast, open space, where a lone person could feel awed at the immensity of the sea and the sky as there were painted with the colors of night.
There, Chīyóu found her.
“What do you see, when you look at the ocean?”
The queen of queens, mother of mothers, principle of principles, turned her back to the deep blue to face the god of war.
“Really,” continued Chīyóu while cracking her neck. “That BB, this is what happens when you mess with Imaginary Space.” It made her click her tongue. “Mah, not like that bitch really cares.”
“And you,” she then said, gesturing towards the silent primordial goddess, who merely tilted her head. “You sure know how to cause trouble. The Assassin me should get tips from you, sheesh.”
The sea struck the rocks far below with sudden intensity. It was probably not a coincidence.
“You are a truly primordial being, greater than I will ever be. But right now, you are just a hassle. You already understand that you lost, so can you please not manifest in a form that turns the ocean into monster-spawning ground?”
“Laaaaaaaaaaa~”
Chīyóu rolled her eyes at the life-giving song.
“Yes, yes, you only manifested your conscious, self-limiting will; you’re so thoughtful. But, even if it was just a droplet and not the entire Pacific Ocean, that
Sea of Life is still a big no-no. Bad dragon.”
“Laaaaa
aaaaa…”
“Oh, now you’re just being whiny. You’re better than this. Next time you want to pay a visit, try a form that doesn’t cause so much trouble. I bet that silly Master would just love that.”
For whatever reason, the thought of the Master welcoming Tiamat to Chaldea like a puppy he picked up somewhere brought a chuckle to the lips.
“And it’s not like you can’t, after all. How about
the you from the Moon? That one is its own hassle, but at least she’s manageable? Or
the other one who was actually decent enough to get formal worship?”
“LaaaaaaAAAAA—”
It was quickly getting dark, but Chīyóu’s sight was sharp enough to notice the shapes crawling up from the edge of the cliff behind the mother goddess. It didn’t take her a thought to call upon her twin war fans, which manifested like animated shields floating around her.
“Nobody in Chaldea has forgotten that you love humans more than anybody else. That’s why, before you think of coming back, hold on tightly to that love and let it guide you.”
A few beasts became a dozen, which became twenty, which became sixty of all shapes and sizes. The primordial sea and life-giving song created indiscriminately. Even if it was not even remotely close to the fathomless Beast that threatened the fledging mankind in the distant Mesopotamia, the reckless spawning of monsters could easily threaten the small holiday singularity.
“Sorry, but right now the only thing I can do is banish you from here,” lamented the God of War as she took hold of the metal fans for a change.
“I’m still supposed to be on holiday, and there’s a hammock with my name waiting at the hotel.”
*** ***
“I’m alive,” were the first words that came out of Chīyóu’s mouth upon opening her eyes. She was about to ponder why she was still alive, but the words got caught in her throat upon truly noticing the night sky sprawled above her.
“Ah, how pretty.”
“My, thank you, ufufu~”
Only then did Chīyóu notice she was not alone, which spoke of her current state. She only had to turn her head slightly to the right.
“Mata Hari.”
“That’d be me, yes.”
Two more figures appeared at the edges of her vision, all of them looking down at her prone form with different degrees of interest.
“Semiramis…and the White Grail.”
“Iri,” corrected the albino woman, to which Chīyóu responded with a somewhat twisted grin.
“Welcome to my—ugh, life.” A first attempt to raise her body was a complete failure. “I take it you saved me.”
“I take it you won,” intruded the Assyrian Queen, not allowing Irisviel a chance to respond.
“You see a primordial goddess around…?”
The other three exchanged pained glances at the Chinese’s innocent arrogance that constantly pushed people away. Indeed, there was no trace of Tiamat, but South Point was littered with the remnants of her many creations.
“For the sake of Miss Barbatos, our Master can’t know of this,” declared Irisviel, and the others quickly agreed. This trove of magical components would spell the end of the Demon God of the Wild Hunt’s summer holiday.
“How are you feeling?” then asked Mata Hari, turning their attention back to the unmoving Chīyóu.
“Like I’ve gone through every conceivable way to suffer physical harm…which is pretty close to what happened. Holy shit that was insane.”
“It’s hard to say this, but you were more poison than Servant when we found you,” Irisviel declared. “Also, I think something chewed on you at some point?”
“And burned you,” added Mata Hari.
“And flayed you,” said Semiramis.
“I did everything I could, but a Servant with any less endurance would not have survived that much punishment,” finished the lively homunculus.
It brought a sigh to Chīyóu’s lips, but after that, she was smiling.
“I…I think I might’ve lost as a Saber.” Each word made her smile broader and brighter, even as the muscular effort brought tears to her eyes. “There were just so many of them; it was like fighting the Yellow One all over again.”
She paused. Then, she frowned.
“Why are you people here anyway? I told I…ugh, had this.”
It was the three fair women’s turn to smile.
“Isn’t it obvious?” answered Mata Hari. “The little ones won’t start the BBQ without you.”
Chīyóu stared at the dancer without no care to hide her obvious disbelief. When it became obvious Mata Hari was not messing with her, she tried to say something, but what came out was sputtering nonsense, which only ended when the war god brought a single arm to her face, using it cover her eyes.
“…huh. Um, ‘bout that…”
“They actually listened to you an insisted in finding an underground oven.”
Chīyóu snorted, her throat caught between laughing and coughing.
“Right, right, that sounds great. But I really can’t move yet, so, um…”
“Not a problem for my Bašmu,” offered Semiramis.
“I don’t want to be anywhere near one of those ever again. I had enough Bašmu for eighty-one lifetimes.”
This resulted in a smiling Mata Hari taking carry duty, and the group began the long walk back to the resort area.
“Somebody say something, I don’t wanna fall asleep and drool on Mata Hari’s shoulder.”
“I don’t think Mata Hari would mind—” Semiramis replied.
“I can answer that myself, thank you very much.”
“But if you so insist, Chīyóu, I shall take the opportunity to ask.”
The Dutch spy felt her load shifting slightly to properly look at the queen dressed in black.
“I understand that the Servants wielding weapons feel some apprehension towards you, because of your ability to reproduce their weapons and techniques.”
“I can’t stop myself:
my weapons,
my techniques.”
As the Sovereign Over All Armaments according to her myth, all weapon designs, styles and techniques come from her. Even if she considers herself a creator of weapons first and a wielder second, she cannot abandon her pride.
And it is precisely because these three women are not weapon masters themselves, because they have no attachment to weapons or pride in them, that they can understand the simple emotion that drives Chīyóu’s need to correct Semiramis.
Those who are overcome by Chīyóu cry out “she has all the armaments and techniques”.
What those three saw, however, was that
“she has nothing else but armaments and techniques.”
That is what it means to be one with one’s Origin.
“Of course,” says Semiramis with a half-smile. “What I wish to ask, however, if whether you can also reproduce my assassination techniques.”
“Hmm,” murmurs the somewhat dazed goddess. “I can’t really create new, original poisons like I can do swords. I can only give weapons the effects of a poison I know. I guess that includes Bašmu now.”
“Mm-hmm. That means I’m still the winner,” concludes the Queen with a little smugness.
Chīyóu responding with only a yawn told the other three she was truly running on fumes.
“Oh, now me, now me!”
The goddess on Mata Hari’s back weakly turned her gaze towards Irisviel.
“I can’t…make something like a Grail, but…yeah, a weapon that heals, is fairly easy.”
“Ahaha, guessed as much~” The albino paused bringing a dainty finger to her pursed lips. “But then, why didn’t you heal yourself?”
“Shielder right now…not Saber. Can’t create anything.”
That caught the three women off-guard. Chīyóu, who at this point was just mumbling while half-asleep, continued her confession.
“Didn’t want to…ruin anybody’s holiday, so…no armaments…maybe I could…with everyone…”
A few seconds of silence followed, to be interrupted only by the Woman with the Sunny Eyes.
“Ahaha, I’m being drooled on.”
“Ah,” Irisiviel exclaimed. “We didn’t get to ask if she can reproduce your dancing, Mata Hari.”
“…can’t dance…for shit…zzzz…”
It was inevitable that the invincible God of War was brought out of her repose by the lively laughter of two beautiful women (and a certain queen’s curter chuckling).
The Invincible War God Has No Friends (Hawaiian Remix) – END
*** ***
A Carefully Crafted Story
She can already see her end.
She sees it after every single battle.
Just like all the others, he has lost, and she was the victor.
Her brothers and sisters celebrate, because they cannot see beyond the present.
That is likely her fault; she pampered them too much.
She gave them too much, to the point they do not realize how much they lack.
She can already see her end.
She can see it in his bright irises and his youthful smile.
Every single battle is a little trickier, a little harder to win.
Nevertheless, she leaves the orgiastic celebrations of her tribe to meet him after every battle.
With almost saintly patience, she answers his countless questions.
She teaches him the secrets of the sky, the earth and the stars.
She can already see her end.
One day, the boy in yellow will surpass her. It will be her direst, yet most magnificent day.
So, she does what she has always done. For she is the same as her tribesmen, but also different.
She leaves her tribe to their rampant, noisy celebrations. There is no joy to be found there.
Her joy resides in the admiring gaze of that insatiably curious yellow lad.
Alone together, beneath a sky with a myriad twinkling stars.
Zĭwēidŏushùqì
Purple Star Calculator
Rank: B
Type: Anti-Unit
Range: 0
Maximum Targets: Self
Chīyóu’s secret Noble Phantasm, which she can’t use in her Saber form, and wouldn’t use even if she could because it feels like a cheat even to her, and because she would rather stick to her armaments.
Some legends claim that Chīyóu was among the first to know the secrets of the stars, and how they are connected to a person’s fate. While the minutiae of Chinese astrology were developed long after her time, she has no need for them, for as a Servant she has hold of something completer and more fundamental.
Of course, Chinese astrology is understood by those who practice it as merely detailed forecasting, far from infallible. But that only applies to the living. Servants (at least most of them) are people who have already passed away, and therefore have already “performed all their actions in life”. Chīyóu reverses the normal mechanism of astrological calculation, using that complete record of a Servant’s actions in life to reverse-engineer a “predictive calculator” that allows Chīyóu to accurately anticipate the Servant’s future actions.
It can be said that this Noble Phantasm is worthless against the living, but almighty against most Servants, save for those that are somehow summoned while still alive, and those with the uncanny ability to challenge fate itself (Luck Rank EX). While it worked perfectly against Tiamat, it was useless against Tiamat’s children—just like every single human being carries a different fate, the fact that the original Bašmu was slain by Marduk in the
Enuma Eliš does not mean she can predict the actions of every other Bašmu.