1 ; 1. When you're an ex-protagonist, trying to stay safe and retired will just get you killed to motivate someone else. Fighting will at least give you a cool death.
1 ; 1. When you're an ex-protagonist, trying to stay safe and retired will just get you killed to motivate someone else. Fighting will at least give you a cool death.
1,2
The Act of dozing off in the afternoon is a luxury indeed.
Coffee would be nice, though.
[Collection of my Servant Sheets]
Now Revamped!
Damn, tough choices all around.
I'm going with 1, 2.
We have a tie on the second choice at the moment.
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I'm here to save the day
Switching to 2
Quest of Fate
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Streets of Concepción Hill
Day 03
Evening Phase – 02c
Severe Cold (-29 °C/-18.4 °F)
(BGM)
“Something’s bothering me.”
Fiore only lets her eyes swivel towards her left, where Oliver Drake walks next to her, bearing the weight of the salvaged machinegun. Some steps ahead, Sakura and the newcomer, one Marco Ahrens, are deeply engaged in tactical discussion. They walk towards Atkinson Promenade, where they hope to set up a means to stall the Nazi attack force, having given up on halting their advance through the main access thoroughfares up the hill.
“I’m a businessman, and some of my clients as magi, so I like to think I’m pretty good at seeing through bullshit.”
“So you think he lied?”
“That’s the thing. Of all the things he could’ve lied about, he lied about how he’s enduring the cold. That thing about the suit being a mystic code; that was a lie, I’m sure of it.”
“Hmm.”
Soon enough, they are walking along the length of the pedestrian walkway, gazing upon the ruins of buildings razed by Nazi artillery. The group clad in varying degrees of thick clothing are small dark spots in a world of grey and white, bathed in an arcane aurora. The four gather at the top of Concepción Passage, looking down at the narrow expanse of forestry squeezed between the cliff wall and the buildings adjacent to Esmeralda and further ahead to the coast. Oliver and Alicia also get their first glimpse of the cave at the base of the hill.
“No sign of Mr. Javier,” Sakura is the first to comment.
“You did not take that long on the wreck, and we have no way to know how far Javier’s gone looking for enemy scouts,” Fiore points out. “We cannot wait for him.”
Marco points towards the tall and pointy end of the nearby church’s tower.
“If I were him, I’d be checking up there.” He has a dark look as he voices his opinion. “Should’ve done it myself on the way to your place.”
Sakura ignores the man’s clicking of the tongue, but shares his interest in the holy building three blocks away.
“…we can’t wait for him.”
“Are we sure we’re going to make our stand here?” Oliver insists. It is easy to read through his worry. After all, they left his wife alone and unconscious, only connected to a rudimentary IV line.
“Unless they have somehow seen inside the house, they should not even know about Mrs. Drake,” Fiore says.
“That’s hard to believe. And now that girl Maria is in there too.”
“They’ll think twice before sending soldiers there, even if they know she’s unconscious. They already know their rank-and-file can’t do a thing to Maria.”
“It’s not like we have decided anything,” Sakura interjects, hoping not to extend this argument. “Maybe we can afford to split and keep someone by the house.”
By this point, Marco is looking down the passage’s staircase; the pedestrian path connecting the promenade to the base of the hill.
“This is the chokepoint…unless they choose to climb up the wall. No, even then, it is easy to hold this position, except…”
“We have zero cover up here,” Fiore finishes. “Mister Drake could place the machinegun here and gun down anybody trying to run up the stairs, but he’d be completely open to return fire.”
“How do we set up cover against automatic rifles?”
“We pile up anything we can carry here,” Marco answers Sakura’s question. “There are cars everywhere around here. We can take their doors and build a makeshift shield for the machinegun emplacement.”
“That’d work if we reinforce the metal, yes,” Fiore admits, and Oliver seems a bit more enthusiastic by the idea.
“That I can do.”
“I, I can help too,” Sakura chimes in. “If it’s reinforcement, I can do at least that much.”
Hearts and voices are somewhat lighter once the sketch of a plan begins to assemble in their minds.
“So, what about that thing Javier mentioned?” Oliver then brings up. “You know, when we decided to check on the wrecked truck.”
“Right, some sort of cannon-type mystic code?” Fiore adds, promptly grabbing Marco Ahrens’ attention. “Some sort of air-projection weapon; Javier was not very clear.”
“An air cannon? A Wirbelringkanone? Mounted on that truck? I didn’t see it.”
“According to Javier, Maria, um, ripped it off and used it as a blunt weapon?” Sakura explains with a somewhat pained look.
“If we got the directions right, it should be laying some two blocks away in that direction,” Oliver adds, pointing towards where Hotel Manoir Atkinson once stood for the other man now wearing a very interested look.
Preparations Continue
*** ***
Unknown Location
With the weights set on the scales, Seigi Nomikata…chooses to step forward.
“I’ll go,” he declares, continuing once the girls’ eyes are on him. “Miss Liria came here seeking Lancer’s protection, so it doesn’t make sense if she goes out to fight and leaves you behind.”
He shrugs.
“I’m not the kind of person who can look at this disaster and just ignore it. And I can take care of myself. I’ll be fine as long as I stay away from the Servants, right?”
Liria keeps her head hung low. Lancer Lily sighs most despondently.
“…well, the man has spoken. You would do wrong to refute a potential client, girl.”
“My left arm is twitching, Lily.”
“Well, boy,” continues the Servant all the while ignoring Liria’s taunt. “There is no time to lose, but I will hold you for a minute.”
(BGM)
She sinks a hand in the litter box, letting the sand slips through her fingers before straightening her back and pulling her hands back to rest on her knees. Then, she takes a deep breath…and the world changes.
Seigi finds himself unable to remind his master that he did not bring winter clothes to Valparaíso because he was not expecting to need them. Liria seems better aware of what is happening, but her body nonetheless tenses up, unable to remain calm as they feel power descend upon the living room.
“Ningal aḫāt ilī rabûti(I am) Ningal, sister of the great gods,
Ningikuga bēlet gimri elletu mubbibat erṣetaNingikuga, the mistress of all, the pure one, who purifies the earth,
”Ekišnuĝal nāṣirat kiššat nišē nūr šamê rabûteIn the Ekišnuĝal, the protectress of all the peoples, the light of the great heavens.
It is different. The haughty brat who can only look at others from above is no longer present. Atmosphere, poise, presence, aura—the speaker of those words has at the blink of an eye become a different person. The air around them has become still, as if lowering itself in reverence. Seigi slowly, slowly, drops back on the seat, his body relaxed as if some drug were acting on his muscles. He idly realizes why Liria sought this person for sanctuary.
They are safe.
Like the warmth of the home’s hearth. Like the embrace of one’s mother after a long absence.
She is the promise of plentiful harvest, of life-giving rain and of peaceful days. She is an inescapable honey trap—give yourselves to her so you need not ponder anything else.
As long as she is with you, everything will be alright.
The daze that seems to cloud is thoughts is promptly dispelled when the grains of sand in the litterbox rise unbidden, defying the laws pf physics. Invisible hands work on the sand, giving it shape and firmness; soon enough, Seigi and Liria realize they are looking at an accurate model of the Lutheran Church of the Holy Cross. Assassin leans closer, unable to hide her admiration for the perfect reproduction, seemingly to the smallest detail. Lily’s straight posture remains unchanged, quietly drilling holes through the model’s ceiling with her unblinking eyes.
“…boy.”
Seigi unconsciously straightens himself. To the bearer of that voice and that presence, everybody else would certainly be a child.
He must pay attention. To do otherwise would be blasphemy.
“To succeed, you must focus not on the process of nigredo. Instead, focus on the intent of the alchemist when the process begins. Your keywords are ‘church’, ‘undead’, and ‘bounded field’.”
After those words, the goddess makes a dismissive gesture.
“Now, get going. Liria will guide and brief you on the way.”
It happens in a daze, and by the time he is fully aware of himself again, Seigi Nomikata stands outside their “hideout”, fully exposed to Valparaíso’s chill without Lancer Lily’s benediction.
“What the hell…ah, damn it, it’s cold out here.”
Cobwebs linger in his head, and he needs to take a moment to figure out where he is and how he ended there. He looks up at the second floor of the building behind him, where he knows Liria and Lancer remain.
The warmth in his body comes not from his magic circuits. He comes into terms with the fact he was seized by, of all things, religious rapture.
A goddess.
His mind, and his heart, both surrendered to that girl.
“What kind of mental interference was that?” he murmurs, torn between awe and outrage.
“THinK noT Too much aBouT iT.”
Seigi makes a most ungentlemanly sound as he is startled by a figure he has failed to notice in his fading daze.
“THe will oF a goD CannoT Be unDerSTood, THe way oF a goD CannoT Be kNowN. AnyTHing oF a goD is diFFiCulT To Find ouT.”
*** ***“…or so she says,” Liria finishes.
“It is a saying from my era that you would do well not to forget.” Lily is watching the British man from the window.
“Man is meant to live as man,
And god is meant to exist as god.
The one who grew up to be neither reigns as judge outside the world,
And there is no greater heresy than aiming to be as both.”
She walks away from the window, circling the furniture while keeping her eyes on the sand model her magic created.
“Aim to not to grasp divinity, children,” she then says. “For therein lies the heretical path of the Human God.”
Only Liria can see it, the deep melancholy projected by truly ancient eyes framed by a face so lovely and youthful.
“There is nothing of worth to be found at the end of a path of hollow enlightenment.”
She sits back down slowly, like the usurper sitting on the throne for the first time after slaying the king.
“The boy has received my counsel. The rest is to come from you.”
The recipient of those words, one Liria Colhuán, nods slowly. She cannot do much in a fight, but there is plenty she can do otherwise.
Just outside, the zombie points in a certain direction—downhill—, and one Seigi Nomikata sets off.
To join yet another battlefield.
*** ***
?????
(BGM)
“…ow.”
Maria’s back hurts.
The front hurts too.
Pretty much everything hurts.
“Wha…”
Blurred sight, mind in a daze, even as her body refuses to move, her heart beats quickly; she needs a moment to gather her bearings and try to remember just how she ended up…wherever she is, groaning in pain.
Right…she provoked—well, not really—Saver into a fight. They were in her bedroom, and Saver charged first. Maria remembers planting herself, lowering her center of mass to parry the blow, maybe sway the incoming attack to make room for a riposte…
“…ow.”
It was like trying to parry a freight train. No, a category 5 tornado.
“That doesn’t…make sense…our parameters are the same…”
“Stupid giiiiiiiiiirl!”
Maria does not think. She just moves. She does so in time to dodge a golden meteor crashing on the spot where she laid prone. A ball of light—her opponent is a living golden bonfire, a mass of radiance that conceals her furious form all but entirely. It is only then that Maria comes into awareness of where she is.
A place she has visited plenty of times. She welcomed the year 2014 in this very place. The year 2015 she welcomed in London, alone and bored out of her mind.
Spoiler:
With a sharp breath, Maria taps into the exact same power. Saver’s very own divine radiance flows around her and bends to her will. The same power streams from one to the other and back, like an amoeba splitting into two.
The air explodes. Swords clash with each other. This time, Maria is not flung away.
Yes! I can do this—!
The sword that crashes into her own is now trying to chop her from above, so she raises her own—
“Guh…!”
Maria bounces once, twice, three times off the concrete, holding her side with her free hand. A kick? But, how could she deliver both a vertical chop and a kick with any degree of strength at the same time—
“You’re weak and stupid, girl! Weak and stupid and deaf!”
The storm is upon her.
“Deaf to the song of your world!”
A two-handed diagonal slash that should flow into an attack in the opposite direction instead leads to Saver spinning clockwise to backhand her.
“Everything swirls!”
After a thrust, when Maria expects Saver to pull back the blade or sway it to either side, she instead punches the pommel for even further thrust.
“Everything churns!”
When Saver stabs the ground to vault herself over her sword, Maria brings up her arms to intercept a kick, but then gets stabbed by the melam in the blade lashing out as a spike of light that feels like a searing, incandescent rod in her innards.
“Everything breaks!”
There is no pattern. There is no rhythm. But Maria is not fighting a fool flailing her sword wildly.
“What the hell kind of style is that!?”
“Style!?” Saver spits out the word like some sort of bad joke.
The ancient Servant charges, the divine radiance surging from the ground upwards leaving a trail of burning, impaling golden spears.
“The fuck is a style!?”
Maria readies herself for another fierce clash, only to see the Servant dart right past her.
“Huh—!?”
By the time Maria’s turned around, Saver is attacking from above. A moment later, Maria is rolling on the ground yet again, groaning and clutching where a chunk of her flank should by all means be missing. That she does not bleed in this place is a miserly consolation.
Spoiler:
“Tactics, techniques, styles, even these sharp sticks!” Saver lazily waves her sword from side to side. “They are things made by humans to make up for your feeble flesh and bone!”
Maria is only half-standing when she has to react to block the sword thrown at her like a javelin, which is followed by an onrushing wave of golden light—the boldly christened “Aura Slash”, conjured by a swing of the arm. The light washes over her; it feels like she drowns in a river of acid as it drags her through some hapless wall effortlessly undone by the golden power.
“I have no need of those things! Nobody taught me those things!” Saver declares, deaf to her vessel’s groans as she steps through the Maria-shaped hole, sword already back in her hand. “I know only the dance!”
Maria shakes the debris off herself and off her mind. Again, she has been abruptly thrown into a new, familiar location.
Maria hesitates to get back on her feet. She could in an instant if she wanted to, despite the fact she is hurting a lot, but the narrow passage in which they have ended up has helped her notice something that eluded her in the open vastness of Times Square.Spoiler:
She feels the breeze hitting her from behind. She hears the rattling of the lockers around her. She sees the remnants of the wall she was dragged through as they are lifted into the air, swirling around Saver as if to join the ceaseless swirling of her melam, even as they are unmade by it. She remembers the supernatural flame that surged out of Javier’s body. She remembers the wind risen by her swirling combat with the Uridimmu…
“The song of the wind is the song of my melam, girl.”
Saver makes a single on the spot, slicing the air around her. Her golden aura mixed with microscopic dust swirls along. Maria feels the wind behind her grow in strength, and she has her cue.
“The song of my melam is the song of this world!”
When the Servant rushes at her with a low attack more like a golfer’s swing, Maria frog-leaps forward, letting the wind carry her for an instant. It is a reckless attack full of openings, and Saver effortlessly pirouettes away from the knee about to bash her masked face. Maria lands on the tips of her toes, and immediately turns around while swinging her sword, the released Aura Slash meeting Saver’s own.
“Aha—ow!” shouts the girl jubilant at predicting her opponent’s move for the first time, right before the pommel of a flying sword smashes her nose.
“So you did learn something, after all.”
Saver’s voice echoes across the empty hallway. Maria yet again takes her sweet time to get back on her feet.
“It’s the whole…spinning and swirling around,” Maria replies. “Your melam drags everything around it. It twists and changes the air around you. You heat up the air, you create wind, you change its friction, and then you abruptly change your movements to use all that in your favor while your opponent is hampered by it.”
It hurts to chuckle, but Maria nonetheless does it.
“Damn it, what the hell? That’s insane—oof!”
“What the fuck are you prattling about?” Saver speaks while her vessel bounces off a wall after being kicked like a beach ball. “Who the fuck would think that complicated stuff in a fight? I just dance, and when I dance I’m the strongest.”
It almost makes Maria want to cry. Her Servant is truly an idiot above all idiots.
“You fuckin’ battle autist,” she curses quietly between groans.
“Get up,” Saver growls. “If you can still talk back to me then I’ve been holding back too much.”
“Aw, how nice of you, holding back for widdle ol’ me.”
“Yes, I have to work hard so I don’t kill you by accident. It’s the fuckin’ worst,” Saver retorts before rushing onwards to the girl who can only utter a muted whine before the storm is upon her again.
A few seconds later, Maria hits the floor again with a grunt. A different scent strikes her nostrils, telling her that she has reached some new location right out of her memories.
Saver does not walk. She twirls, sways and sashays, the gyrations of her body and the swings of her blade rousing the air inside the Vatican archives. Books and folders fly out of the shelves, creating a short-lasting maelstrom of paper dancing along the virago wreathed in gold, for the pages do not take long to disintegrate once pulled into the divine aura.Spoiler:
“Come on, we don’t have all the time in the world,” taunts the steel-voiced Servant, all the while Maria wonders how she is supposed to reproduce what this immature combat savant does instinctively…
…is it, really? Even if she does not consciously plan the complicated applications of her dancing melam, the dance itself must have come from somewhere. Did she learn it from someone, or did she come up with it herself? In either case, what lies at its conception? What is in Saver’s mind while she dances?
“Well…” Maria says as she pulls herself, yet again, back on her feet. “…credit where it’s due: this is way more interesting than most ‘girl talk’.”
Saver is not impressed, neither by Maria’s firm stance nor by the determined expression marred by a broken and swelling nose.
“Goddammit, I swear I’ll understand you. And I’ll make you understand me.”
For whatever reason, the words trigger a look of abject disgust on Saver’s face.
“…you really are one insolent mongrel.”
Instead of charging like Maria expected, Saver twirls a step away, the golden aura rotating three full circles for Saver’s single one. The Servant brings her weapon arm around her neck, the tip of the blade disappearing within the swirling radiance.
Aura Slash! I’ll get you—
Maria doesn’t get to think. She does not even perceive that Saver literally grabbed a chunk of her melam with her free hand behind her back and threw it like the world’s greatest pitcher. She only feels the impact in her belly, and how the spinning ball of golden radiance erodes through her skin as if to run her innards through the blender.
“Stop thinking and surrender, girl!” demands Saver through Maria’s screams.
“Never!” defiantly cries back the girl, even as tears run freely down her cheeks.
“Then you are a fool,” is Saver’s grim conclusion as she pounces yet again.
Spoiler:
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1. Fiore, Sakura
2. Marco
3. Oliver
5, Quick
- - - Updated - - -
Also oooooooooooooooh Inception fight Inception fight! Saver is a treasure. So is Maria but everyone already knew that.This reminds me of one of Kamachi's novels, Weakness of Beatrice, where the buff orcs swing hard enough and precisely enough to manipulate wind and fire through fluid dynamics.“It’s the whole…spinning and swirling around,” Maria replies. “Your melam drags everything around it. It twists and changes the air around you. You heat up the air, you create wind, you change its friction, and then you abruptly change your movements to use all that in your favor while your opponent is hampered by it.”
Originally Posted by Arashi_Leonhart
Hmmm... I like Raff's proposals.
Team NPCs:
1. Fiore, Sakura
2. Marco
3. Oliver
Maria:
5, Quick
+1
+2
Quest of Fate
Apocrypha Universe Fate Quest Project
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Hermes Servant Collection Master Post
+3.
21th Century Lemming Man.
+
You can discussThe OG RequiemConQUEST and other Quests in Discord (disc is much more active here).
Click the image to ConQUEST
1. Fiore
2. Marco
3. Sakura
4. Retrieve metal from the armoured truck and bring it back to use for (2) — Oliver
1. Quick
- - - Updated - - -
Holy shit, lemmings indeed. Not to say that Raff is a bad leader. But in this case, this is crazy.
If memory serves, the battle with Lancer ended in complete failure. But even if I’m misremembering, Lancer has nothing to do with what’s going on inside Maria’s mind.Don’t forget: She’s fighting back against Saver by using her own powers against her!
We need to focus on the dance. This choice is about getting a new power!
The first three are our options, but the other two are tricks leading to Maria remaining at her current ability level. Again. We can’t afford to make choices based on curiosity when we’re about to fight a giant Noble Phantasm!
More importantly, by focusing on the dance, we’re taking some of Saver’s power whether she wants us to or not.
It’s the surest means of getting Maria powered up more.
In the spirit of dancing, Quick actually might be the way to go.
The shield will be more difficult, so we should put more than one person on that. Particularly since bullets fired from even a regular handgun will punch through a car door like it’s made of cardboard. Even if we use reinforcement, there’s no guarantee how long it’ll hold, and we’ll need Sakura there the whole time. However, we do have something that we wouldn’t even need reinforcement to use as a shield: the armoured truck was blown to pieces. The scrap metal from the armoured plating will shield us far better than a car door.
As for the wind cannon, we might meet resistance in finding it, and though Sakura may still be recovering, she’s also the mage best equipped to defend herself. Marco would be better for this, but it really depends on how much we trust the guy.
Last edited by Draconic; May 17th, 2019 at 08:11 PM.
Likes attention, shiny objects, and... a ball of yarn?
F/GO Supports
I joined two years too late...
If I recall it correctly, the fight against Lancer is when Maria "accessed" the dance without also losing herself.
- - - Updated - - -
Related to the above, Daneel, is it feasible to have links to the different chapters of the story?
Time to check that out. If you’re right, then I still stand by my NPC formation, but I might go for Maria’s 5.
Likes attention, shiny objects, and... a ball of yarn?
F/GO Supports
I joined two years too late...
Is that a trick question?
Catalog of Somewhat Original Servants
In Progress: Fimbulwinter Quest Project.
Beast's Lair Quest Discord Server
Read it over, but I’m sticking with focusing on the dance itself. (5) would be worth doing only if Saver wasn’t obsessed with her own superiority. And she’d probably murder an entire city before lowering herself to the point of cooperating rather than enslaving.
Negotiations have already broken down, and Saver’s only desire is to steal Maria’s body. If we want to keep Maria, she needs to turn Saver’s power inwards on itself and take it as her own.
- - - Updated - - -
In the master post under Quest Progress.
Likes attention, shiny objects, and... a ball of yarn?
F/GO Supports
I joined two years too late...
Oh, d'oh! Sorry, Daneel, and thanks, Draconic!
An honest mistake. And to be fair, Quest Progress sounds a little look like it could be a summary of the story so far.
maybe you should add “/ Table of Contents” to the spoiler folder’s name, Daneel?
Likes attention, shiny objects, and... a ball of yarn?
F/GO Supports
I joined two years too late...
Streets of Concepción Hill
Day 03
Evening Phase – 02d
Severe Cold (-29 °C/-18.4 °F)
Marco Ahrens is correct when he said there are plenty of cars they could use for their makeshift shield. However, none of those cars are on Atkinson Promenade, being a pedestrian walkway and all that. It therefore becomes necessary for Sakura and Fiore to retread their steps just a little bit. Well, more than a little bit—unfortunately, the cars parked just right out of the promenade were bombed to oblivion by the artillery barrage that sought to destroy Javier and Maria aboard the armored truck.
Atkinson Promenade, being a linear walkway, has two exits, one on either end—three, if we count the stairway near the hallway point. There was no point in the two ladies following Oliver Drake towards the opposite, easternmost exit—that one was even more wrecked by the Nazi rockets.
They have to walk more than a block away from Atkinson to find cars not crumpled like waste paper. So there they stand, next to the most ordinary family vehicle.
“Um…”
Fiore smiles warmly at the sight of one Sakura Edelfelt’s pained smile and hesitant mien.
“You have that look on your face that says we did not think this through.”
“Ah, I just…don’t know how to do this?”
“You cannot rip them off with Reinforced strength?”
“Wha—!? No way, no way!” Sakura seems strangely flustered by the suggestion. “I’m a beginner at best; I can’t do that kind of Reinforcement!”
“Hmm.” Fiore seems to mind not much. “What about melting the hinges?”
“Ah, no—um, I told you about my Mystic Codes last night, right. I can only produce explosive power with that, not a persistent flame.”
“Hmm. Then you’ll have to destroy the hinges with those explosive fists of yours.”
“When you say it I feel like you’re making fun of me,” a pouty Sakura retorts.
“No such thing,” replies the other woman, her smile too dazzling. “Rather, you are going to be very noisy, so if you’ll excuse me, I will take a few steps back…?”
“Somehow I don’t feel happy about this…” Sakura murmurs even as she bangs her fists together.
“Do your best~” cheers from a distance the one who hasn’t been doing much of anything.
*** ***
Unknown Location
(BGM)
“The standard Nazi soldier is just some sort of magical puppet or whatever,” starts Liria. Out there, one of the dead repeats those words to Seigi Nomikata even as it points towards the nearby cemetery.
“They are ether given form and purpose through the heretical arts of an imperfect Human God,” adds Lily, the Servant. Her hands rest on Liria’s shoulders.
“Wait, since when can you talk through my corpses?”
“Don’t get distracted, girl.”
“…right…” murmurs the Assassin Servant with a plain “this is not the last of this” face.
Undead await Seigi in his difficult run amidst the cold, to speak Liria’s words and point him on the correct path. They sit on gravestones, lie down beneath trees, and coyly watch over him from every available hiding spot. There are, indeed, considerably more than Seigi expected. Then again, he is in a graveyard.
“Anyway, the soldiers are not a big deal. They’re only troublesome ‘cause they’ve got guns. Their weapons have some rune or whatever that allows them to hurt Servants.”
“Irrelevant. The boy can unravel them at will with his bacteria-like magecraft.”
“Uh…I’ll just pretend that makes any sort of sense.”
Seigi’s surroundings become desolate, as he crosses the devastation caused by Archer’s attack upon Maria and the Herald of Fimbulwinter.
“The soldiers ultimately answer to the Sovereign—that is, the Nazi boss—, and to Rider. But the ones who actually lead them in their operations are the six Hexensoldaten. These six are indistinguishable from normal people. And they’re all girls, I guess because those Nazi assholes were fuckin’ horny when they made them.”
“They are female because they were created by—that woman,” corrects Lily, her voice jerking to a halt mid-sentence for whatever reason. “Boy, think of them as homunculi made with Age of Gods techniques.”
Leaving behind the devastated section, Seigi is now forced to weave and zigzag past the irregular arrangement of graves as he moves not just downhill, but also westward towards Concepción Hill.
“Anyway, their deal is that they can use magecraft,” Liria then explains. “They’ve all got some magic they’re crazy good at. I only know the powers of two of them, but those are the ones the Sovereign always keeps with himself, so they don’t matter right now. I’m guessing one of the other four is the one messing with the corpses.”
“Boy, there are three of them inside that church, plus half a dozen standard soldiers, and my divination suggests their numbers will increase. You cannot engage them directly,” Lily then warns. “I have already provided you with the keys to overcome this problem. Do your best and do not get killed.”
Liria nods but also frowns at the other girl’s words.
“Right. You should already see the church from where you are. Um, take care of yourself.”
That is the end of Liria’s transmission-via-zombie-network as the redhead approaches the zone that rejects the approach of Liria’s walking dead.
“You suck at being supportive,” comments the modern Chilean girl upon Lily letting go of her shoulders to settle back on her own seat to reexamine the sand church.
“Dozens of assistants, subordinates, students and apprentices throughout my lifetime prove otherwise. More importantly, you do not even know the names of those girls, do you?”
“I’m bad with foreign names, okay!? I had to repeat ‘Seigi Nomikata’, like, a fucktillion times in my head so I could get it right! Hell, nobody calls you by your true name; I already forgot it!”
“I see,” murmurs the ancient Servant, never taking her eyes off the sand. “So the only things you can properly learn are lewd things.”
“Oh, go fuck yourself.” Liria lets herself settle back on the couch while sighing. “God, I’m tired.”
“You should rest.”
“You damn well know I won’t be able to rest until I see how things turn out. I still can’t figure out how Maria can beat Rider’s stupid Noble Phantasm!”
“There is no place for either of us in that battle. We can only wait and hope for a positive result.”
“Right, right,” whines the girl in the ragged cloak. “Haa, I sure hope those two aren’t around.”
“Hmm?”
Liria has decided to at least let her eyes rest for a moment.
“Yeah, I mean, I didn’t get to talk to them or anything, but I could make an impression just from looking at them. Pinkie scares me because I feel she could beat the living shit out of me, Servant or whatever. And Eyepatch…well, it’s, like, you know I’m a whore, right? I mean, you keep saying it all the time.”
“I do, yes.”
Eyes are rolled under closed eyelids.
“Anyway, I like to think I’ve learned a thing or two about being a judge of people. I mean, it comes with the job. But I just couldn’t figure out Eyepatch’s deal. I sure as hell am never playing cards with that one.”
“Hmm.”
Liria then opens a single eye.
“Is that all you gonna say? ‘Hmm’?”
“Well, you would gain nothing from listening to my current thoughts, so I see no point in sharing them. Do know that I am grateful for the information; you have filled an important gap in my knowledge.”
“Oh, glad to be of help, then,” Liria retorts in a voice dripping with sarcasm.
“Indeed, it must be quite the elation, to know there is worth in you beyond being a receptacle for male—”
“Alright, that’s it. We’re taking this outside.”
*** ***
Lutheran Church of the Holy Cross
(BGM)Character Status
It is warm. I’m starting to sweat.
I notice just as I stand back on my feet. The interior of this church is nowhere near as cold as, well, pretty much everywhere else. I had been so tense about the whole situation I thought the comfortable temperature was just my inner fire keeping me warm.
“We should kill him right away,” abruptly suggests the blue-haired girl, bringing her hand closer to a rather antique-looking gun on the waist. My body tenses, and the zombie still behind me inches closer. Can I overpower it if it tries to grab me? With Sthūla-Śarīra, I can, if that fight yesterday…
…ah.
“Now, now, we have our orders,” Glasses retorts in that honeyed tone that in no way matches her venomous smirk. “Hold the Master hostage until Herr Rider kills Saber. Then he dies.” Her eyes gleam with excitement in no way contagious. “I hope His Majesty gives him to me. There is only so much I can do with corpses.”
“Please spare me the disgusting imagery, you third rate Mengele,” the steely voice of the beauty with the eyepatch echoes from above.
Glasses brings her hand to her generous chest in mock hurt.
“Oh, you wound me, Elisabeth.”
“And you waste my time. I should be at the launch pad, assisting the final preparations—”
“Oh, spare me the lame jokes,” Glasses dismisses the other woman’s words with voice and gestures. “We both know Herr Rider is perfectly capable of managing the launch on his own. The only reason he keeps you around is for the eye candy. Did you warm his bed last night, or was it that skank Ortrud? Oh, but His Majesty has two all for himself, so perhaps Herr Rider is aiming for the same—”
“Should I take it off, Senta?”
I…do not understand, but the words have changed the atmosphere inside this church. Blue Hair took a cautious step away from Glasses, who has not moved from her spot, but looks visibly tense as she shows me ugly glare well-hidden from the balcony out the corner of her eye.
“Tch. You have no sense of humor, Lis.” Glasses—apparently called Senta—then turns to me, her unsettling smile back on her face. “Please excuse her. My hypothesis is that she was designed frigid.”
“I’m leaving.”
“Wait.” Senta stops Elisabeth’s intention with a firm voice. “You still have not answered my question. Is he clean?”
Elisabeth is thoroughly unamused.
“…is this it? This is what you called me for? You are afraid of a single magus?”
Senta shrugs.
“Doesn’t hurt to be careful. We only know he can burn things.”
With that, Elisabeth’s single uncovered eye fixates on me. Inhumanly crimson, gleaming like the finest jewel, almost divine in its luster. Even partially covered behind that eyepatch, this is a woman whose face could have launched a thousand ships.
“…he is clean,” are her only words before she turns her back to all and walks until she disappears from sight. What does that mean?
“Great! Thank you, Lis!” Senta calls out with false cheer before turning her attention wholly to me. “Well, now you’re all mine.”
Her spreading grin brings a shudder down my spine. Distantly, I can hear footsteps walking down stairs.
“You…you are the one who attacked me yesterday.”
Senta blinks once, then does so again. Then she turns to Blue Hair to her right.
“He figured it out,” she whispers.
“You are a moron,” replies the girl yet without a name, just before a distant explosion takes everyone by surprise. Well, just me and Senta, really.
“The hell was that!?”
“Probably the other magi,” Elisabeth suddenly speaks from the opposite end of the church. “They are likely preparing for an attack.”
“Ah, right!” Senta quickly regains her wits and laughs darkly. “The poor bastards, must be pissing their pants. You know,” she says, turning to the quiet blue-haired girl. “I wouldn’t mind if you killed them.”
“Not the rules,” plainly retorts the girl just before a second explosion which the Nazi ladies duly ignore.
“Right, right, His Majesty’s weird rules—”
This time I am the only one startled by a new, sudden noise to my right. A banging noise…from beneath the ambon?
“Oh, I forgot to move that.”
Promptly, the zombie behind me acts to push the large wooden object aside. Right after, a slab of the floor is pushed upwards and to the side, revealing a monster.
My heart beats faster. Sweat gathers in my brow. My muscles grow taut as I want nothing else but to run away from this place. The monstrosity, well over two meters tall and as wide as at least two strong adult men, lumbers its way out of the vertical shaft. It is an abominable mass of flesh, artificially given the rough shape of a human being. The sutures are clearly, almost arrogantly visible. How many bodies did it take? How many people had their muscle fibers pulled out and bound together into this abomination with arms and legs like mighty oaks?
“Ah, this is my darling! Darling, meet…um, this guy.”
The undead monstrosity, clearly uninterested in—or rather, incapable of—social niceties, merely plants itself behind Senta as her bodyguard. I’ve been so caught up on this…thing, that I just notice that it was followed by even more soldiers with automatic guns, their numbers already doubled by this point.Spoiler:
“Leaving,” Blue Hair suddenly declares, at the same time Elisabeth walks the length of the church, moving around the large undead towards the secret shaft under the ambon.
…that uniform is way too tight. There’s no way that can be comfortable.
“Ah, sure. Good luck!”
To my left, Blue Hair ignores Senta’s mock cheer and disappears in an instant.
…what? No, wait. I can hear her footsteps walking past me and into the passage I took to get here.
Invisibility magic.
That’s how they appeared from behind me. How long were they following me and the zombie? Was she the one following me and Saver? No, if she can do something like that, how are Sakura and the others even still alive? Does it have something to do with these “rules” they mentioned? And if she’s not aiming for them, then…the unconscious Maria?
“I’m done here. Don’t waste my time again,” then says Elisabeth as kneels before the vertical shaft.
“Yes, yes, take care~”
(BGM STOP)
I am about to be left alone with Sunta, an undead monstrosity and something over a dozen heavily armed Nazi soldiers. Even with the departure of invisible girl and the intimidating Elisabeth, the situation is not really much better.
I don’t know. I’m out of ideas. How do I get out of this?
“It’ll be alright. She’s an idiot.”
My thoughts come to a halt for a moment. My face turns to the right, but Elisabeth has already disappeared down the shaft.
But, those whispered words…those were real, right?
“Now!” The lone remaining woman abruptly exclaims in a cheery voice as she sits down on the nearest pew. “Come ‘ere.”
(BGM)
She…is patting the space to her side, her smile softer but still more than a little crooked. Perhaps she just cannot pull off a decent one.
Wait. She…she wants me to sit next to her?
“We’ve got some time before Rider does his big flashy thing, so let’s talk for a while.”
…seriously? And what happened to “Herr Rider”?
“What? Can you blame me?” Apparently my disbelief is plain on my face. “Look, New Asgard—I’d call it a Bratwurstfest, but the soldiers aren’t even real people! They’re like fucking iron dildos—Ortrud’s words, not mine. I’m a pure maiden.”
…what.
“Darling here is only a proof of concept, he’s not even that good a bodyguard. And he doesn’t have anything down there; I mean, what kind of pervert would I have to be to do something like that?”
Ugh, my mind, my mind! I can’t even look at the thing now!
“Do-do—don’t give me that look; I just said I’m pure and wholesome!”
Goddammit, why is she blushing!? Why is the Nazi officer chick blushing in outrage!? Somebody make the world make sense again! And by the way, nobody asked!
“Aaaaand anyway! You’ve already met my colleagues.” By this point she is just making a stubborn monologue, arms crossed and pushing up her bust. “Believe me, the others are even worse. So can you blame me for hoping to have a decent conversation with a proper human being? I don’t even know your name, and that just doesn’t cut it.”
Again, she pats the pew to suggest I sit by her side.
“Come ‘ere, handsome. Let’s be buddies!”
Wait.
Is the Nazi mad necromancer—who explicitly says she intends to use me as a hostage against Maria and then kill me—flirting with me?
Pat, pat. Well-kept fingers strike the wooden pew again. Her smile—now I can tell she is trying to seem friendly, but it just comes out as the smile of a villain. Poor girl.
Also, shit.
Decision Time!
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