Your going to have to trust that i respect and at times have really appreciated your opinions, but we seemed to get stuck in a loop where we disagree. So just saying how he seemed from the perspective of watching the Anime without first reading the LN for further depth.Originally Posted by Stasis
>Rebelious Teen trying to prove his salt, seems pretty cool
>"Why is my Servent so crazy"/ Gets smacked around
>Cries
>Cries some more
>Vomits
>Gets smacked around some more
>Cries some more
>Moment of actually taking some directive
>More "My Servants too crazy/too intimidated to really act
>Nice moment with his "Grandparents"
>Happy resolve in his final battle, but is still taking back seat even until the very end (even if doing so "proves his merit")
TLDR: He both metaphorically and literally takes a back seat during almost the entire anime as a Master, he contrasts Iskander well enough but besides the opening moments at the university & moments with his "grandparents," he kinda just gets smacked around and cries a lot. His standard emotions and social position rarely change basically. Moments where Iskander explain his tough love doesn't count to Waver's credit IMO as thats the to credit of Iskander.
So far as Apoc characters, they may not have the length of dialogue to expand their depth but compared to waver i liked their dynamics better, understand im simply comparing Waver in the anime VS Apoc Characters, not the whole of F/Z vs F/Apo. Still think if they actually cared to make a decent show (including mild revision, or atleast proper allocation and directive of time) it could be really unique and enjoyable as the LN has enough good things, but i'd still agree if they just ripped source material on the fly the quality could simply drop and end up being Fate/Michael Bay. I'd hope that doesn't happen as in the case of F/Apo i find the good points really unique to it and i'd like to see it stand on its own if or when it gets more exposure.
Last edited by Blanca; July 25th, 2016 at 08:12 AM.
The personnality of a character isn't only summed up in his tendency to cry or not. How should I put it...The cover of the book hasn't changed, its content did.
The very fact that Lord el Melloi II has absolutely nothing to do with Waver ante-4th war (except his misanthropy, but then again, see above) should show how much he changed.
You never know when those things come in handy...
Spoiler:
Out of curiosity, how much is left in Volume 3? I've been holding off on starting it until the translation was finished.
DAMN I missed the second birthday of the simulatneous V2+3 translation projects by one day!
You gotta celebrate those things, right?
FGO accounts, MP for FCs; updated: 21/05/2017
I would preffer to celebrate it with everything translated :v
maybe next year the manga gets to the point where this is translated.
It was... a strange dream.
I was racing across a great field, untouched plains of gorgeous emerald spreading endlessly in every direction. The scenery flowed past me. I knew it was a dream, but the sensations I felt in these two legs were more real than anything else.
I ran.
I was running.
Further, ever further, in an unwavering line. Indecent sounds began pouring from my mouth. Never had I imagined that running on my own two feet could bring such pleasure and stimulation.
In the blink of an eye, the scene changed and I reached a cave at the foot of a beautiful mountain.
Ah... I know this... yes, I know the name of this mountain.
This was Mount Pelion, a famous tourist attraction in Greece, and in one of its caves dwelt the famous centaur Chiron, the great sage and pride of the Greeks who educated many heroes.
By this point, even I began to understand that this was the past of my Servant. Due to the connection between us, I could see into his memories during sleep. Of course, it was possible for me to decide to cut off these visions, but that would be a waste; if anything, I dove further down the hole, tuning my level of my consciousness. It took quite some time for me to adjust - not quite having done this sort of thing before - but now, whenever I dreamed, I would be able to see Chiron.
I could see the Chiron that I did not yet know.
As I approached the cave, a boy began running towards us, calling out "master!"
Was he one of his students?
The boy jumped lightly onto the rock next to us. Looking down at Chiron with some sort of anticipation, he spoke.
"Master, let's go out and hunt!"
"We cannot."
I began to laugh, seeing him pout at Chiron's curt response. The boy was very handsome, one could say exceptionally so. He felt neither male nor female, instead appearing androgynous. Yet his words and manners clearly belonged to a boy, something that I as a sister knew very well.
"It is good that you enjoy the hunt. Considering your future, it is better to be good at it than to be poor. But is it a hunter that you aim to become? No, you wish to be a hero. No one would recognize a brute as a hero. It is not enough to learn your letters. A man with no sense of music or decorum brings only shame to himself."
Despite his advice, it seemed the boy was still dissatisfied. With a difficult expression, he grumbled in affirmation. Although he could see the logic was correct and he should not speak out of selfishness, he also knew that the rest of his day would not be enjoyable. Seeing this, Chiron smiled wryly.
"However... being cooped up in a cave for an entire day must surely be unbearable torture to you. A compromise, then. Finish memorizing the rest of your words for today, and write them onto the slate. If you finish before nightfall, I will teach you how to fight in the dark."
"Really?!"
"There are some risks, but I am sure you will be all right. And of course, that is assuming you can remember all your words by dusk."
Naturally, the boy had no complaints. Laughing, Chiron put his hand on the head of the boy jumping for joy, who blushed but accepted it with a smile.
I felt envy for the boy - as well as shock. I knew that Chiron had a wife and daughters, but they were all close to divine beings. The boy, on the other hand, was overflowing with the radiance of humanity. However, Chiron's behavior towards the boy was exactly that of a loving father to his son.
"Now, it is time for your lesson... Achilles."
Achilles.
It can't be...
But the boy did not deny this name. In other words, he was the Rider of Red, the great hero who was likely the most famous figure of all in our Holy Grail War.
Achilles was born from the hero Peleus and his wife, the sea goddess Thetis, and they opposed one another concerning their son. While Thetis wished to complete his godhood, Peleus believed that making his demigod son fully divine would destroy the human side of Achilles.
In the end, Thetis accepted his point of view, but left Peleus and Achilles, returning to her home on the ocean's floor. Not even a son was enough to bind the goddess to the man.
Peleus decided to put young Achilles in the care of his old friend Chiron. After all, he was the son of a hero and a goddess, and Chiron was the greatest teacher that Peleus knew. Chiron readily accepted his friend's request and began teaching all manners of things to this highly gifted boy. Words, songs, poems, virtues, and manners; how to hunt, fight, and ride horses; and even the art of healing.
To Achilles, forced to separate from his parents at a young age, Chiron must have been a stern, kind, and attentive father.
Likely because it was a dream, the past went by quickly. Achilles grew up before my eyes, becoming tall and powerful. The shaky thrusts of his spear became god-like blows. Like a freed horse, he was unstoppable and untameable, galloping across the fields and surpassing all obstacles with his swift feet.
He was also extremely knowledgeable, of course. In the wild, he could find edible plants and fruits with a single glance, and he knew the ways to treat injuries.
The way he behaved and held himself, both as a hero and in a royal court, was perfect.
Most surprising of all, Achilles was barely ten years old when he had accomplished all of this. What a figure he must have been, to reach this age and be told by Chiron that there was already nothing left for him to teach the boy.
In any case, it was time for them to part ways. Chiron and his wife Chariclo saw Achilles off as he began his journey.
"Master... lady Chariclo... thank you for coming this far with me."
"Take care, Achilles. Stay safe and watch your health."
Chariclo tearfully wrapped her arms around Achilles. If there was one thing left for Chiron to teach him, it would be the importance of loving others with all his heart, as she did.
"I'll be all right. I'll do my best, to make sure I don't shame myself as a student of Chiron."
Achilles spoke firmly and steadily. He did not just parrot the sayings he was taught, but gave thought and put them into words. And he was still only a ten-year-old boy. It was clear why Achilles would become renowned as a hero even as a youth.
As always, Chiron put his hand on Achilles' head.
"You have grown well, Achilles. However, we or Peleus are not the ones whom you ought to repay. You need not burden yourself... you are already a hero."
Hearing these words, Achilles seemed somewhat taken aback, and gave a short nod before hastily turning his back, rubbing his eyes with his arm. Chiron and Chariclo watched the boyish gesture with smiles on their faces.
"...I'll be off, master!"
The boy hero stepped forth, never showing his tears.
After that, true to Chiron's words, Achilles became a hero who accomplished great deeds all across the land. However, as his mother Thetis had foretold, cruelty was visited upon Achilles during the Trojan War by the sun god Apollo, whom empowered Paris to shoot through Achilles' heel - the only part of him which remained human - followed by his heart. Realizing that the wounds were fatal, Achilles continued his rampage until he finally fell on the field of battle. Anyone who knew the name of Achilles must have heard the story.
And so, Achilles never met Chiron again. Just as Achilles' life ended in tragedy, Chiron also met an untimely death. What I have just seen was truly when they had parted for life.
i was jolted by the realization. There was great love between Chiron and Achilles. They were bound, as father and son. As brothers. As family.
So what was this situation that aimed to rip their bond apart?
It was the Holy Grail, of course... our great war. In other words, was I not culpable as his Master?
No, even if they did not know when they were first summoned as Servants, they had already fought each other twice by now.
It's not my fault.
But was that not because they were Servants? Servants, who could be forced by the Command Spells if they did not follow their Master's orders? Slaves, who faced certain death if cut from their supply of energy?
You're making a father kill his son.
No, Archer must have accepted it by now. If he did not want to fight, he would have told me...
You don't know the first thing about him.
I do know. I do. I know everything about him...!
I shut my eyes, wishing only to wake up from this dream.
How despicable I was. What a fool. Of all things, I had chosen to run.
Praise the Ranon Y
Something
Is this a dream?
You can discussThe OG RequiemConQUEST and other Quests in Discord (disc is much more active here).
Click the image to ConQUEST
Am-Am I dreaming?
Thanks for the translation, Canon! If you don't mind, I have a few suggestions:
"It took quite some time for me to adjust - having not quite done this sort of thing before [...]" This may be more a matter of style than anything else, but perhaps this should be "not having quite done"?
"Yet his words and manners were clearly belonged to a boy, [...]" I believe it should be only "clearly belonged"?
"In the end, Thetus accepted his point of view, [...]" Thetis
"However, as his mother Thetis had foretold, cruelty was visited upon Achilles during the Trojan War by the sun god Apollo, whom empowered Paris to shoot through Achilles' heel [...]" Who
"But was that not because they were Servants? Servants, who could be forced by command spells if they did not follow their Master's orders? Slaves, who faced certain death if cut from their supply of energy?" Perhaps this should be capitalised - "Command Spells"?
That flashback screams a scene out of a Yusha Web Novel. Imo although Apocrypha received several criticisms due to its writing and lack of character development due to its large cast, these kinds of flashback scenes makes it better than average.
Thanks for the translation
i was jolted -> capital I
I'll do the fixes when i put up the next bit which will be in a few days
It was supposed to be a few days ago but then I got a commission for a quickie over the weekend so weeeee schedulesss
It was... a dream of freedom.
The knight loved to fly. If you were to ask why, it was because he could fly both up and down, apparently.
Was it simply that he liked the choice of having as many directions as possible to fly?
It was not worth mincing words. In any case, the knight was free. Although born as the prince of England, he had tossed aside all things which he considered nuisances, such as the matter of inheriting the throne. One would imagine that the impression he gave to others would be of an insufferable upstart. And yet, perhaps due to his inborn good nature, all seemed to like him.
From the moment he was born, nobody could resent him. Everybody became friendly with him. He was naive, perhaps... or foolish, or reckless. He was not a wise knight.
But he coveted nothing. Valuables seized from his enemies would be unceremoniously gifted to others.
He despaired at nothing. When he became transformed into a myrtle tree by the fearsome witch Alcina, he waited cheerily, nonchalantly, until someone came along to return him to normal.
In his foolishness, he would fail. In facing a great foe, he would sometimes lose... and sometimes win. He was only average in terms of strength. However, the sorts of adventures he had overcome, and the sheer number of them, was beyond extraordinary compared to ordinary knights.
He was weak, but he was brave. As many times as he had been knocked down, not once could he be kept down.
Even his death was without fanfare. At the battle of Roncevaux Pass, despite being caught unawares by treason, the Twelve Peers of Charlemagne fought valiantly. However, they were still greatly outnumbered, four hundred thousand against twenty thousand. Continually pressed by twenty against one, not even a great warrior could hold for long.
Those battle-hardened braves fell, one by one, and they were soon joined by the knight. Letting out a sigh, his hand reached out toward the void - but with a laugh, he stopped it. His contented smile showed no hint of regret. Even as he laid covered with his own seeping blood, and tormented by the pain of approaching death, the knight appeared completely at peace.
But, if...
If there was one wish remaining in him as he faced death...
"Yeah... I want to see that place again."
It was likely the knight's most treasured memory, visiting that boundless world said to contain all things which did not exist on this earth - the alien world that no one had seen before, in the great beyond.
Those were mere murmurs, uttered in the haze of his death. But it was a wish in its own right, a desire that ought to be granted. So, as his Master, I wanted to grant it for Astolfo. No matter how high and noble the wishes of the others were...
Suddenly, the world became distorted. My mind leapt beyond the safety and security of dreams and the subconscious, torn away by the grasp of a dreadful power.
I felt hot, as though my skin had been set on fire - and cold, as though my body was being frozen from the inside out.
Yes, it was obvious what was before me.
There was no point in averting my eyes, in taking up arms to fight. I knew what this monster was.
I knew that I would have to face it eventually. I knew its true form.
It was the most famous episode among the legends of the great hero Siegfried... the slaying of the dragon. With the phantasmal sword Balmung in hand, he stood against the evil dragon Fafnir. What could be more fitting a tale for a hero such as him?
I swallowed. The cavern seemed to expand forever, yet at the same time, it felt painfully claustrophobic.
Firstly, it was because of the treasures that took up over half the space, a mountain so bountiful that a single handful seemed enough to guarantee wealth for life.
And the second was the black mass that laid on top of the wealth, hiding it. Despite its form melting into the darkness, it conveyed a monstrously overwhelming sense of presence. The crushing sensation fueled one's imagination, becoming visions of black scales, a flaming tongue, snake-like eyes, a poisonous breath - and the colossal creature containing all of it.
It was strangely terrifying that my will had not yet broken... or perhaps it had already been so utterly shattered that I could no longer register it at all.
This was a space which allowed only one existence - the Dreadwyrm. All other living things would find their deaths here.
The fact of it existing before me was horror enough. I could not run even if I wanted to, as though my feet had been pinned to the ground. It seemed almost natural, logical, that if I were to move - if I even looked at it - death would follow.
The dragon opened its maw.
It was a living being, after all - and that was the most frightening thing of all. A creature that had reached such a plane of existence no longer needed food to sustain itself. But this was an evil that devoured for pleasure. As a cat would torment a mouse, or a snake would slowly digest a frog - this predator tortured its prey.
The fear that scorched my body became hotter and hotter.
Isn't this a dream? Can't I wake up?
...Is this a dream?
If it devoured me here... would I really wake up?
With no such assurances, I could only fight. However, I could not possibly match it. If I at least had a sword, I could choose to end things right now...
"...what?"
It was then that I realized. There was a sword in my right hand, and gauntlets wrapped around my arms. It finally occurred to me that I was 'Siegfried'.
Then, I could fight - so I told myself, as I clung on to the little hope that was all I had left. I no longer had to avert my eyes, and could see the dragon clearly.
The dragon paused, its murderous air retreating as it peered at me with something like caution. I gripped the sword tightly, throwing off what hesitation remained - and charged.
Fafnir responded instantly, moving to fight me. With a soul-crushing roar, the clash between man and dragon began.
Everything around me became engulfed by a fiery maelstrom, instantly shining light into the shadowy cavern - but this brought no comfort, for it was the flame that illuminated Hell itself.
I swung the sword feverishly, not knowing how to take on the dragon. Even blows delivered with all my strength barely felt as though I was cutting anything at all. Sensing a coldness bite at my back like so many crawling worms, I frantically rolled along the ground - and the tail of the dragon swung haphazardly over my head.
Like a human swatting at a fly... no, the difference between us was even greater than that. The slightest touch would bring certain death, surpassing anything as insignificant as luck. Shouting loudly to mask my own fear, I struck at its body and then once more at its tail.
The dragon-slayer stood much too far in the distance, while my own death was far too close at hand.
...I can't win.
The thought passed my mind, and in truth, it was something that I had already realized. The race of dragons stood at the pinnacle atop numerous other species of phantasmal creatures. Breathing fire or ice or even poison, these monsters were sturdier than castle walls, with claws capable of easily rending steel and tails that would pulverize even diamond.
It was true that Siegfried had felled this dragon. Therefore, there was no reason that I would not be able to. Yet I could not perceive even the slightest hint of what might lead to my victory.
The dragon's claws tore clean through the armor and into my torso. The cuirass collapsed like paper and blood burst from my chest. I could feel a sizable chunk of flesh forever ripped away from my body.
More so than the pain, I felt a fatal sense of loss. Mutilation and overflowing pain translated into a scream far shriller than I thought possible coming from my throat.
My vision clouded as Fafnir moved to deliver another critical blow. I swung the sword weakly, even as my consciousness ebbed away from the intense pain. Of course, my strike was deflected, and I was sent whirling through the air and more flames burned me. My voice was silenced and I could no longer give sound to my agony.
My body was forced to move, by survival instincts or something besides. Something spoke to me desperately, telling me that I must do so. I raised my head and faced the aberrant mass before me.
The doubt in me whispered that I could not possibly win. There were countless ways for me to lose, but only one reason for me to win.
Because, I am Siegfried now.
Even so... even Siegfried must have fought against the odds, against despair, before finding that single spot of hope and finally defeating the dragon at the end of a brutal struggle.
I could only imitate his appearance. Would I not simply lose to the dragon... as I had lost to Mordred?
I wiped the blood away even as I shook, standing up even though certain of my own defeat. The glint in the dragon's eyes reflected no mercy or pity. Whether I intended to fight or not, it would pounce in a few seconds. I gripped the sword with both hands, and put out of my mind everything flowing from my wound. I only needed to leap forward. No amount of damage to my head or chest would interfere with that.
I knew full well that it would only be a brief resistance. So it was strange that the choice to 'run' never came to me.
My heart pounded wildly in sheer terror. My knees shook from the hopelessness. Anguished tears flowed unimpeded down my face, mourning the end of my life.
And still, I could not turn and run. The dragon opened its maw. I could feel my face twisting, a pathetic shout coming from my mouth. One foot stepped forward, then the other. Without really knowing where I was aiming or where I even should aim, I raised the sword high.
But it was too late, as the stream of flames raced forward and engulfed me, far faster than I could bring the sword down...
Once again, the scene faded to black.
Before I knew it, I saw up-close the worried face of Ruler.
It seemed I had managed to escape that world between dream and reality. While I sighed with relief, unease gripped my heart tightly.
The breath of fire at the end had unmistakably killed me on the other side. So, what was I doing then, on this side...?
Based Canon-sama.
Thank you for the translation!
Thanks Cranon
dreadwyrm is actually a really good translation for 悪竜
Though abandoned, forgotten, and scorned as out-of-date dolls, they continue to carry out their mission, unchanged from the time they were designed.
Machines do not lose their worth when a newer model appears.
Their worth (life) ends when humans can no longer bear that purity.
Armor of Fafnir confirmed iLvl 130
That's the first time I've heard of Astolfo's wish.Spoiler:
And now I'm imagining the happiest, goofiest tree. Thanks, Canon.
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