1 week ago---
Two pairs of conjoined wings.
Two broken wings without their feathers.
A six figured symbol.
A reddish thorn engraved on his forehead; An appearance similar to the horn of the devil.
It radiates as he stands proud with chin held high.
Two men appears on an open-air tower 5 floors above the ground. It can be liken to a Church's bell tower without the bell itself. Paintings of the Hindu epic Mahabharata can be seen across the walls and ceilings of the tower. But the main attraction on this evening is not the tower, nor the paintings beautifully displayed.
The man who is brownish and fat, with golden eyes and pierced ears, fixes his clothes as he gestures to the person behind him.
"Lord Jayendra, it is about time," says the man in a tux who was half-bowing at him.
Jayendra let out a vicious smile: an expression of Ecstasy.
He takes out the mirror hidden beneath his sleeves and looks at his face with adoration.
"Ahhh!~ Fofofo~," he shrieks in pleasure, "the command spell of the Second Rank: Cherubim, the grail had indeed recognized me as its rightful seeker. . .however. . ."
"Older brother. . .?"
The man behind Jayendra quietly inquires as he notices the sudden pause of his perfectly pompous sibling.
"Why. . ."
Jayendra utters to himself with a tone different from his earlier excitement.
". . .Why!"
He roars loud enough to startle birds that perches on the walls of the tower they are on.
His face now like a red rose blooming and his eyes now as fiery as inferno.
The seemingly enraged man tosses the mirror he once held to the concrete floor breaking it to pieces.
The man behind him was startled by this action of his usually composed and proud sibling.
"What is wrong, Lord Jayendra?"
"This. . .this is unacceptable! Don't you understand, Devadas!? I am ranked at the second seat, one level below the first, it means the Holy Grail deemed someone more worthy than I, Jayendra!"
The pompous man shouts in wrath the agony he feels for being having been reduced to someone below another.
For him this was the greatest insult.
Because he, Jayendra, who lived most of his life looked upon and adored by the people of his clan for its next ruler.
Because he, Jayendra, unifed all the magi clans in India to his own liking, forcing them to abandon their personal desires and branch in to his family.
Because he, Jayendra, was renowned to the magi world as a terrifyingly obsessive man when searching for power.
Because he, Jayendra, desired the Grail to give him authority unsurpassed.
Thus, he believes, he can have no equal.
It is the common truth he strives to think even from then.
But now his beliefs, like the mirror he just broke, was shattered by this realization.
"Lord Jayendra. . .I know I have no right to speak on this matter but. . .you still possess that," the man who is his younger brother reminds the fuming lord.
From that reminder, the proud man snaps back to his former righteous state. Fixing his attire and hair with his hands while breathing calmly, the man finally corrects himself.
"I apologize for that misbehavior," he coughs, ". . .my, my, I'm not really good at getting angry, am I?"
The man behind him nodded to this retorical question as if taking it as sarcasm.
"No matter, just like what you say Devadas, I still have this," he says as he takes a small silver box from his sleeve.
He opens the box and gently takes out an object placed inside it. It was a scarlet gem with a shape of a diamond.
A relic that Jayendra sought for ever since he found out the existence of the Holy Grail War.
He believes that aside from the Invulnerable Son of Surya and the Invincible Pandava, this relic will give him the Heroic Spirit; a hero of the past, to be summoned as a Servant; a familiar whose purpose is to follow their Master's orders, the only one of 3 others that can be a match between the two greatest heroes of India.
However, there is a problem.
According to the legends, this man never suffered death and lived an immortal life. Another account says he lived a miserable life that not even death will pity him. One source contrasts that he managed to seek salvation and lived a pleasant life among the sages.
This was a big gamble even for someone like Jayendra.
But, after discovering the gem and proving its legitimacy, he theorized that it might be possible after all.
And, if this ever succeeds, then there is no Servant in his War that can match up to this Heroic Spirit's absolute power.
Yes, regardless if he was not chosen as the greatest Master of this battle royale to the death.
If he possesses the strongest card, the ranked supreme among others, a Saber whose power rivaled even the successor of the Spear of Destruction, his victory will definitely be assured.
That is his plan.
That was, and still, his belief.
He hands the gem to Devadas as the latter goes and places the artifact on top of a cylindrical stone at the center of the tower. After placing it, a magic circle suddenly traced around the area, surrounding it along with Jayendra.
"Without any futher ado," the pompous man declares, "Let us begin our meeting, my Sword."
The time for her to take the stage has come.
After arriving in Tokyo, the girl with grayish hair did not waste a single-moment in searching for the best place to summon her champion.
Before she arrived here, according to the acquaintances she has in Japan, the best place in Tokyo to set up a summoning circle should be in this very exact location where she is standing right now: an abandoned western-style house.
According to the information she has, this was once a home of a previous Master that participated in one of the past grail wars.
Since this had been abandoned for several years without claim, it was safe to assume that the person who used to live her had died.
Of course, she is not the type of person to simply intrude just because the area is already empty and definitely decided to not even take this place as a consideration for her base of operations.
Looking around, surveying the living room, she grasps the perfect place to set up the magic circle and the summoning.
Clearing the old and dusty couches, broken television and some other useless and abandoned objects that is clearly decades behind modern era, she tidies the room in order to make it a bit presentable for the grand entrance of her Servant
to be.
She finishes up drawing the magic circle made of mercury and had already placed the box where the the relic she will use to call her Servant is, on a table just above the ellipse.
Taking two step backs, she slowly removes her indigo and then unbuttons her white shirt, removing almost everything on the top of her body excluding her undergarments for her somewhat large chest. Revealing through the action was not only her physique but a crimson tattoo engraved on her belly.
A symbol with four wings that stretches out on different directions and a symbol reminisce of a plate on its center.
This was the Command Seal; an absolute obedience spell required to command and direct a Servant.
This, in a sense, is her proof of participation in this tournament: the Holy Grail War.
Her seal, representing the Fourth Rank: Dominions, shines in the very dim room as she prepares chanting her summoning spell.
Essence through iron and silver
Delivery of the archduke of contracts as the foundation
Fill. Fill. Fill. Fill. Fill.
When each side of the pentagram is ignited,
Let blood be my color.
Scarlet light filled the entire room as she continued reciting her spell.
Concentrating all her magical energy on her right hand placed on top of her belly and her left hand spread and pointed at the artifact in front of her.
Letting nothing cloud her composure, she presses on as the scarlet light bursts around her.
Allow my Great Master, Roseblum, be the ancestor.
Arise wall of wind,
Shut the walls of the cardinal gates.
Come forth from the heavens,
Rotate the forked path towards the Kingdom.
Painful. Irritating. Exhausting.
Those are some words that describes this sensations she is feeling.
As the requirement to call the Servant takes a huge toll in a Magus' body, pain through the circuits is inevitable.
Naturally it was impossible for any magi to summon a familiar that power: possessing strength that surpasses mankind.
But---the system this grail was constructed and its mechanics and specifications allows for the core: the Greater Grail, to take on the burden of the summoning by putting each famed Heroic Spirit of the past into vessels rightful for them.
Your sword shall be my fate.
My will shall be your own.
If you abide the Grail's call, and submit to this reason
then adhere to my declaration!
She roars as she clenches her spread left hand and closes her eyes tightly.
It was a common belief, according to history of the War, to desire the rank one servant, Saber.
A rumor has it that on both occasion, the Saber class lasted until the end.
However, this woman right here, do not possess such intentions nor desire to summon the greatest card.
Although she desires the Grail not just for the wish but for recognition, she wishes to summon the perfect card instead of the strongest.
That is why she thought that it is better for her to summon the person she had admired ever since she was a kid.
According to history, there was once a great war that shook all of Europe. A war that determined the fate of human population; A war that determined the destiny of heroes and warriors a life. It was a war documented by one of the greatest orators in history.
It was a war fought for one man's greed and one man's lust.
But that was another side of the coin.
For in that war, exists heroes who became legends. Immortalized through society's admiration of history.
For this woman, who had admired that person, to meet him in person and fight alongside him would be the greatest push for her battle.
Fighting a battle meant to be lost and battling it out against the mightiest heroes of that time, that man managed to postpone the inevitable for a decade long of bloodshed and hardships.
He was a man who, for her, was the perfect person.
Never harboring dark desires.
Never desiring malice.
For him, bring everything to a peace, without any more conflict was ideal.
But it never came true.
He died never accomplishing his dream.
That is why. . .for this woman. . .aside from accomplishing hers, she'd like to. . .in some way or another, relieve that man of his regrets.
This was the very reason why she personally went out of her way to search for the relic that could call that Heroic Spirit.
A slab from the Gates of Troy.
-I oath that I shall be all of the good in the world.
-I oath that I shall erase all evil in the world.
From the Seventh Heaven, attended by the three great powers,
come forth from the ring of restraint, Guardian of the World!
Finishing up the incantation, she pours all the energy and mana she has on the last line.
She can feel the weight on her arm.
The energy surges on the magic circle.
Crimson light illuminates the entire room.
As if like a balloon popping, the light accumulated on the magic circle exploded, creating a fog of smog covering the entire section of the house.
Coughing from the smell of the smoke and covering her eyes, she takes a step back but eventually stumbles down.
As the fog continues to hinder her vision, she slowly becomes more eager to see the hero she's been calling for.
"Did I succeed? Did I?" She asked herself as her eyes sparkled in curiosity.
Success.
That is the word running through Jayendra's mind.
As the gleaming light before slowly evaporates, the fog that covers the tower now eradicates.
His whole body is shivering in excitement.
He can feel it. The presence of someone so powerful that it will eat you up.
It is the first time he has this feeling.
As a figure of a shadow is finally visible, Jayendra is at loss of words, too ecstatic to utter a sound. Even his companion behind him, who stands motionless, is also unable to think of anything to say.
Because the figure in front of them is someone that even the mightiest of people will feel inferior to.
Even with just his presence, the atmosphere of something close to a god, is truly terrifying.
Breaking the silence around them, the figure's foot step rings to their ears.
While taking a few steps forward, the figure announced, revealing a stern face with eyes as sharp as a knife, "Summoned in the class of Archer, I come forth. Are you thy summoner?"
Jayendra is being eaten up by the eyes of the man before him. It is like a woman captivated by jewelry or a man allured by a maiden's beauty. Even after hearing the question, Jayendra could not answer. Moreover, aside from being attracted by the man's atmosphere, Jayandra was shocked at least, to know that this man was summoned. Since a requirement for a Heroic Spirit to be summoned is someone who had died and was put into the Throne of Heroes to be called for. And, with this man right here summoned as an Archer, the logical explanation would be that this man died at some point in his life, which leads him confused and yet, delighted, as his hypothesis that he did die was accurate.
His brother, thinks nervously, that it may lead to something bothersome if Jayendra is unable to give a reply.
"I repeat. Are you thy summoner?"
Thankfully, the summoned Heroic Spirit's nature is almost true to his legend.
Purposely putting an emphasis on the question, the silver haired man with an armor resembling the night shot a terrifying glare at the man in front of him. This flinches Jayendra's captivation and prompts him to finally give an answer.
"Ye--Yes, oh Great One! I am thy caller, Lord Jayendra!" He pompously declares as even he, who is high and mighty, feels the need to give the utmost respect to this person.
"Named after Indra? Hmp, you were given quite a spectacular title, Jayendra."
The man reacts as he crosses his metal coated arms to his chest. He then continues after finally hearing the reply he seeks, "I, as for my answer to your calling, be your blade in this quest for the holy artifact. As you have your desires, I have mine. With this, the contract is complete." He claims with a half-hearted tone. One may even say that he has no interest at all in this undertaking.
Ignoring the words of the man in front of him, Jayendra's thoughts flew somewhere else. Although happy that he summoned the card he wished for, Jayendra was a bit taken aback when he heard Archer's introduction. Summoned in the class of bowman. One might see this as natural as the man he called for was indeed a spectacular archer. But---with his prowess, his preparations, and his destiny, he thought, "Why was I unable to summon him in Saber?!"
As if noticing his Master's occupied mind, Archer snaps him with cold words.
"Lamenting that you were unable to summon me in a stronger vessel, perhaps? Thinking that by summoning me in the Saber class would be advantageous for you. Though you are correct in that matter since, after all, I can end this war in just one night in that class. But you should not concern yourself for this fact, I am, in simply put, at my best in this class."
Jayendra is surprise by Archer's complete mind-reading of him.
However, what Archer did was not reading of the heart or discerning of character. In life, Archer knew someone that can possibly do such a thing, which ticks even the allies of that person. Simply having the ability to read people's attribute is truly an irritation of a skill. In Archer's case, is quite different. Having taught by one of the greatest sages, and possessing a serene mind with a virtuous character, Archer who is quite experience dealing with Jayendra's type, has guessed what he was thinking. Also, Archer, in all honesty, shared the same thoughts.
Jayendra smiled at his Archer's convincing words. Overjoyed by this, he announced to the man before him, "I deeply apologize for doubting your skill with the bow. It seems I have forgotten how terrifying you are in marksmanship, avatar of Shiva."
Archer simply gives a forceful, "Hmp", from the man's praise while looking away to his right.
"As great as you are, victory is almost ours, great hero. I assure you, your Master is the most capable magus in this war."
Jayendra pompously claims. Archer, on the other hand, is quite impress with his Master's pride. It somehow reminds him of a man he fought against numerous times. A pride that is as vast as the night sky; If not back up by a proof of skill and prowess, then the claimer is none other than but a fool of a man.
Archer looks back to his Master, "As you have introduced yourself, I feel proper, even though not needed, to introduce my identity," he says retracting his left arm while spreading his right for a gesture.
"I am Ashwatthama, son of the great guru, Drona, and one of Lord Shiva's avatar of Destruction," he declares with a tone full of pride.
Because of the outburst earlier, much of the old and dusty ceiling of the building, crumbled and fell to the floor.
As she tries to stand, a large shadow appears from the magical circle, with the fog slowly disappearing.
She hears a clanking sound of steel, like footsteps with metal feet, and a grumbling sound like irritation.
Surprising even her, a large gust of wind blew the room away.
From the cover of smoke, a long spear swings apart of what remains of the fog, and it pushes back even the woman.
Stopping her momentum of being pushed back, she stares from the direction of the force, and appears from it, a giant in steel armor.
"Wha---"
The woman is lost in words.
She realizes that she failed.
There was no way that that man was this "huge man" in steel armor. In short, she failed to call the person she desires to meet and to fight with.
Angered and disappointed, she slammed her right fist on the floor.
The sound caused by this action, clearly had caught the attention of the giant before her.
Taking out the silver helmet he wears, revealing a mature but somehow mocking face with eyes of that of an ox and hair as brown as the trunk of a tree, he speaks to the woman in front of her,
"Woman, thou Lancer's Summoner?!"
It was a loud question with a speech pattern that confused the woman it was addressed to.
Upon hearing this, and accepting the fact that clearly failed, answers the the question,
"Yes, I am the one who called you. I am Elizabeth Strauss, an enforcer of the magus association."
She says, trying to cover her discouraged face, with a facade proud of herself.
The giant before her raised his eyebrow and with a loud chuckle, "A woman called Lancer!? Bwahahaha! Regardless! Lancer is the spear! Contract is complete! Bwahahahaha!"
The large man appears amuse by it started laughing. Elizabeth, however, takes this as an insult and is somehow irritated by the loud noise being created by the chunk of steel armor before her.
"Don't be so full of yourself, I did not specifically called for you."
Upon hearing this, Lancer put on halt his amused chuckle.
Although not caring what her Servant would feel, she continued, "I originally planned on something the great hero of the flashing helm but I never thought I will summon a beef twitted one like you."
She shrugs and sighs in disappointment.
Lancer, however furious, stomped his right foot on the floor, smashing it.
"Lancer is not a beef. Lancer is muscle!"
The servant arrogantly boasted removing the steel armor he wears as he shows off his large muscles to the woman.
This resulted to Elizabeth being flustered, "Don't! You, uhh, stop that!"
"Bwhahaha! Women loves muscles!"
"I definitely don't and I believe we all wouldn't!!!"
She roars gritting her teeth after witnessing her Servant's idiotic claim.
Made Furious by the stupid showoff in front of her, she clenched her fist in rage.
Not only she failed to call the Heroic Spirit she desires, but now she summoned a man who "all muscles no brains" type of Servant. She definitely believes this man is not even that famous or strong. After all, war is won with brains not brawns.
"I definitely failed," she sighs and looks back to the Servant with irritated eyes, "So, who in the world are you?"
"Woman can't even identify!?"
With a twitching eyebrow, Elizabeth scowled, "I have a name dumbass! And how would I know? I used a slab from the Gate of Troy as a catalyst."
After hearing this, Lancer nodded as if understanding his Master's explanation.
"Woman with a name, you claim to have wished the Great Hero of Troy? Then, worry not! As you have someone greater!"
"Don't tell me? Achilles was actually a lump of birdbrain."
Elizabeth sarcastically smirked at her Servant's words. After all, the invulnerable hero was the only one in her mind, have surpassed the hero of her childhood in the Trojan War.
Lancer chuckled at this but shook his head, "No! Lancer is more dependable than him!"
Elizabeth again with her sarcasm fired at Lancer, "Ooh! Don't tell me---Odysseus is actually an idiot fellow, the opposite of how Homer depicted him."
"NEVER COMPARE LANCER TO THAT BASTARD!!"
Her servant shouted in rage as he stabbed the spear he has to the floor.
The response surprised Elizabeth and at the same time hinted him on his identity.
After all, there are only a handful of people who has rage so great especially to the King of Ithaca.
And with his towering size, and body covered with armor, she can only guess one man who possess such characteristics.
Composing himself from his little outburst, he chuckled and declared, "Bwahahah! Worry not Master, Lancer ain't furious! Like Lancer claimed, I am far greater than Hector as that fly never laid a scratch on thy body!" He boasts while strongly pounding his chest with his left knuckle.
Elizabeth confirmed her suspicion of his identity.
This man's claim of being greater than Hector may sound stupid but he was definitely correct.
No one had ever wounded this hero.
In a war full of bloodshed, he was the only man who survived without a scratch.
With this feat, one could say that his body was far greater than Achilles' invulnerability, who had a weakness that caused him death.
This man in front of her was a hero who defended against the Trojans' offensive.
Alone, against an entire army, stood and faced them with a spear towering even his body.
He was a warrior, a hero, a king and a figure who fought on equal grounds with the greatest Trojan that has the affections of the gods.
A man who claims to be second only to Achilles, or on par with the champion of Athena.
He was the man who possess the impenetrable shield that was akin to Aegis and stopped the unstoppable javelin of the great hero, Hector.
His true identity is. . .
"Aivas Tlamunus, the Great Bulwark of the Achaeans. . ."
Lancer let out a fierce smile after hearing his Master uttering his name immortalized in history. Laughing proudly at the response, Lancer roared,"Bwahahah! Yes, Lancer is the Great Ajax of Salamis! The unconquered Hero in the Trojan War!"
~Chapter END
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Originally Posted by Thedoctor
) I'll update the stat sheets on Day 5.
