“So, Master, you know why I don’t have any friends?”
It was among the most pitiful, pathetic questions that could ever be asked, coming from the mouth of the strongest Servant. And yes, he knew exactly why Chiyou (Class: Saber) did not have any friends at Chaldea.
Around him, sunlight filtered through gaps between an ocean of leaves, creating shapeless, meaningless patterns on the ground and his clothes. A moaning wind rustled those same leaves, creating the lifeless drizzle that makes autumn in the forests of Germania. The wind carried the scent of bark, of morning dew and dried leaves. Looking at Chiyou’s lack of skin coverage made him rub his arms despite not feeling that cold himself. It was good weather, or perhaps he was just fond of the season.
They were back in the Septem singularity. It was not the one in which he met the aspects of Chiyou—that one was most certainly broken beyond repair. This was the one he and his Servants fixed, strong and stable on its road to complete recovery. Time moved on, Nero would lose a precious person, and eventually her grasp on lucidity, the love of her people, and her life altogether. He was not sure of the exact date, but he knew the Eternal City would soon burn.
The weight of Galahad’s shield in his arms was cumbersome, but not wholly uncomfortable. Chiyou had offered to carry it, but he did not allow it, for this shield was his and Mashu’s treasure. Then she had offered to reproduce it at their destination, so he would not have to go through the effort of lugging it around.
And that was the second of Chiyou’s problems.
The first, of course, was that she was ungodly powerful. Gilgamesh was not a problem—he did not often flaunt her might as the King of Heroes. His status was merely spoken, not displayed or imposed. But Chiyou’s might was very present, very real, and very vivid in the minds of the other Servants.
She had beaten them all.
She had hunted down every single Servant afflicted by
Banner of Chiyou, and literally beaten sense back into them, using weapons custom-made to dispel the powers of the Beast of Freedom.
However, being the strongest was not the real issue—a similar situation had happened when Sharur arrived, and she quickly connected with her fellow Servants.
“Your power trivializes them,” he finally replied. “You can reproduce their Noble Phantasms. Whatever techniques they use, you can do as well or better.”
“I can’t help being who I am!” complained the six-armed beauty. Her voice carried not petulance, but the frustration of a depressed child. Clearly, the mighty God of War had not suffered relationship issues in life.
“Nobody would ask you to be anything else.”
She replied with a lively, tomboyish grin; the kind of joy that lightened the burdens of those around it.
Again, Gilgamesh was not a problem because he did not bother interacting with the vast majority of Servants. Chiyou was the very opposite: outgoing, friendly, eager to be everywhere and be part of everything. It was somewhat endearing, but it gave the impression she was trying too hard.
So, when she dragged him into Septem “to summon a friend”, he gladly joined her. After all, the more time she spent loafing in his room, the closer they all were to a regrettable explosion from the My Room Trio, and
that was an annoyance he could do without, thank you very much.
Leonardo da Vinci announced herself with the familiar beeps.
“Ah, ah, there you are. Signal’s stable, all vitals ok. Good to have a flawless rayshift for a change.”
“I still think you owe me for not taking me to Seraphix, Master.”
“I don’t get to decide those things! I could have really used an overpowered God of War down there!”
“Actually, I say it because I’m not confident I could’ve beaten that Sesshouin woman. Now I will never know. It pisses me off.”
“You really only care about yourself, don’t you?”
The Master’s crooked smile met Chiyou’s lively grin.
“You know me.”
“Yes, yes;
you are Chiyou.”
The war god laughed loudly and sharply, a boisterous “ka-kah!” that rustled the nearby leaves. The fallen dried leaves clung to her considerable hair, but she made no effort to remove them.
“Looking lovely,” he said, somewhat bemused.
“Always.” The smiling Chiyou did not bother look at the young Master, choosing to instead admire the palette of colors the forest offered in autumn. A fox barked some meters away, alarmedly staring at the Chaldean expedition for a few moments before darting away, its bright form quickly disappearing amidst the carpet of fallen leaves.
“I apologize for interrupting your date, but our dear Mashu insisted we have to keep a close eye on you two.”
“Please ignore what da Vinci says, senpai. I make your health our utmost priority.”
Master and Servant side-glanced at each other. Chiyou laughed at a wordless joke, and the young man rolled his eyes.
“You’ll have to do something about that, my pitiful Master.”
“That?” inquired the former (?) Demi-Servant.
“You.”
“Me?”
“I want you, Master.”
“Eh—eeeh!? Wha-wha—what are you saying, Chiyou!?”
“Aaah, too bad,” lamented the dark femme, clicking her tongue. “Didn’t work, Master.”
The Master rolled his eyes again, but there was a poorly restrained smile on his face, which the war god took as her victory. They walked deeper into the forest, all the while ignoring da Vinci’s chuckling and Mashu’s spirited demands for an explanation for the past twenty seconds of their lives.
*****************************
“So, you think this will really work.”
“Have I ever not done anything I said I would do?”
“…point taken.”
Nodding in acknowledgement of da Vinci’s concession, Chiyou indicated the Master where to plant the shield. He had thought they would go to the place where they first met their target, but they had traveled even further north. Chiyou had apparently sought the largest tree in the region. It was clearly nourished by magical power, a yew tree the size of a sequoia, the rustle of its thousands of leaves an ominous song as if disapproving of their intrusion.
“It is still a generation before the people who history would come to call the Saxons spread into this region,” explained Chiyou. “This tree will eventually become a divine monument for them; the center of their religious practices; the place where they could connect with their gods. Seven hundred years from this time, Charlemagne will destroy this place.”
“You are saying this is the Irminsul?” da Vinci asked in a breathy voice, seemingly mesmerized by the immense tree.
“What will eventually be. But we are not here to summon a Saxon hero. That’s where I come in.”
She moved in front of the Master, who was already standing with his back to Galahad’s shield. Upon resting two of her hands on his shoulders, she responded to his raised eyebrow with a wink. He would have been all hot and bothered by that a couple years earlier. Not anymore. This is a man who regularly enjoys the company of Shutendouji, after all.
“Um, Chiyou, just what are you doing?”
“Master, tell your jealous girlfriend to calm down.”
“Wha—!”
The young man chose the wise path of silence.
“Just like she called for me, now I will call for her. Let’s do this.”
They closed their eyes together, creating an intimate image. Their thoughts were shared, centered on the same figure. The Master could not know what image Chiyou produced in her mind, but he simply recalled their brief time together.
Magical energy circulated around them, centered on the shield. The air displaced whistled like a hawk’s cry, seeping into the gaps in the yew tree’s branches and leaves. The scent of ozone mixed with the natural aromas of autumn. Crackling sparks made the fallen leaves jolt, leap and snap on the ground around them.
The Master recalled her face, clad in a stern, disapproving gaze. He remembered her clearly: stubborn, defensive, paranoid, mistrustful and fearful. The one who arrived at Chaldea, however, was a realized being, one who had come to understand herself and cherish her existence. Free of her persecution complex, and overcoming her fear, she willfully chose the path she believed correct, even if it led to her inevitable end. He wanted to know her half of the story. He wanted to ask her so many things: about herself, about Goetia, about Solomon…
It had been several months since those rough days at the collapsing timeline. He had gone through other adventures in that time: that ridiculous alteration of the Meiji Restoration, and the nightmare at Seraphix. He had made new friends. Some of them had joined him at Chaldea. His irreplaceable companion at the offshore complex was gone, perhaps never to show herself before him again, but he remained hopeful. But he had not forgotten the musket girl, and his hope that she, too, would join the battle for the Human Order.
The ambient magical energy coalesced rapidly and then scattered, a drizzle of white motes like fireflies in daylight. Chiyou opened her eyes, looked over his shoulder, smiled and pulled herself away, letting go of his shoulders. Her smile told the Master what he wanted to know, and he quickly turned around to look past Galahad’s treasured armament.
Truly, she had come. Truly, the Throne had welcomed her, acknowledging her heroic deeds opposing Chiyou. Eyes closed, she let blue lines of electrical flow wash over her body harmlessly. A red-wine-colored scarf—matching the color of her horns—billowed behind her, alongside an elegant scarlet cape with gold embroidery. She had arrived with musket in hand.
“Servant Assassin…seriously.”
She already sounded exasperated; it brought a smile to his face. She slowly opened her eyes.
“What the hell’s the Throne thinking, making the likes of me a Serv—geh!”
Da Vinci’s voice promptly came to life.
“Alright, let me check out who went with ‘geh’…I have Drake! Drake’s our winner! Wait, and Mashu!?”
“Ah, um, somehow, I knew…”
Barbatos’ head swayed as if caught in a daze, while a soulful yet somewhat pathetic moan escaped her lips. After letting her head drop for a few seconds, she released a long and pitiful moan.
“Fuck me in the ass.”
“Nah, can’t help you with that.”
Nobody paid attention to the laughing Chiyou.
“Seriously, what the fuck!? What the fuck is this, torture!? Purgatory!? Is this karma!? What the fuck did I do to deserve—” Her jaw slackened as her eyes widened in realization.
“Ah, right. The Goetia thing.”
“Please don’t trivialize the extermination of the human race.”
“Oh fuck me,
you are my
Master—urk!” She brought her free hand to her neck. “Gods, I feel sick just thinking about it. So this is how it feels to have puke in your throat. Not fun.”
The Master laughed at her exaggerated disgust, and got a half-hearted glare for that.
“You did this. On purpose. You brought me here to punish me with…ugh…
you.”
“She is really in high spirits,” commented da Vinci.
“I’m just basking in the love,” replied the young man.
“Oh fuck you,” spat Barbatos. She closed her eyes for a moment. When she opened them again, most of her hostility was gone. “You took a while to summon me. I take you’ve been busy.”
“Beast III/R.”
Narrowing her gaze, Barbatos clicked her tongue, walking around the shield standing on the ground.
“You took too long, you fucking idiot. I should’ve been there.”
“Hoo…”
The young man smiled as da Vinci came to realize what he had always known.
“Yes,” he murmured, knowing only the supporters at Chaldea. “That’s why I summoned her.”
Barbatos had walked over to the smiling Chiyou.
“Chiyou. Class Saber, I presume.”
“Heya—ow!”
The war god gaped at the humble demon who had just flicked her forehead.
“You fucking useless piece of shit, why didn’t you show up at the singularity!? You could’ve snipped that crisis at the root, but nooo! You just had to play hard to get, huh! Huh!?”
The Master of Chaldea guessed Chiyou was just too taken aback by Assassin’s gall to respond to the incessant poking.
“And what with that appearance!? Are you a god or war or a slut!?”
“hey, don’t diss the clothes!”
“There are no clothes! It’s skanks like that turn that brat into a worthless piece of shit Master!”
“Nah, I’d say it’s all me,” commented the Master in question.
“Shitty Master, please shut up the fuck up.” She shot a scathing glare at the young man before looking back at Chiyou, whose smile showed a little bit of tension. It made her Master pity her a little. Barbatos is known as a “friendly” demon, one who creates friendships and brings friends together. The hopeless war god with zero social skills had placed her hopes on the demon god of the Wild Hunt.
“Hmm, well, you showed up in the end and you put an end to it, as expected of the strongest among the seven.”
Glancing one more time at the Master, and perhaps finding inspiration from him, the former demon pillar bowed in the style of his home country.
“For doing what I could not, you have my gratitude.”
The wind blew gently, carefully agitating the ocean of trees, its ripples becoming a drizzle of dried leaves over the scene clad in silence. Master and Servant stared at the demon humbling herself, the human clearly pleased while the goddess was merely surprised.
“…angel.”
“Huh?”
“Ma-Ma—Master! The demon god! Became an angel! Too cute!”
Barbatos found herself glomped by six arms.
“The fuck!?”
“My artificial heart went ‘kyun’ for a moment there! You’re the best! I love you!”
“I’ll fill your body with holes if you don’t let me go right now!”
“Your bullets can’t pierce my skin~”
“Fuck, you’re annoying!”
Eventually Chiyou allowed a concession: she kneeled and clung to Barbatos’ waist while the Assassin and the Master conversed.
“So you’ve dealt with two and a half Beasts,” commented the horned musketeer. “There’s still the issue of Beast IV, but it should get easier after dealing with Sharur and Chiyou. I take you are focusing on the non-standard and offshoot singularities?”
“So you’re aware of it all,” said da Vinci, to which Barbatos responded with a brief shrug.
“Shit happens. No way something as huge as the Human Order Incineration Ritual would not leave lasting effects. And I know I was not the only one of the 72 who made it out of the Time Temple in some way or form.”
“Then we have a lot to discuss, as soon as you arrive.”
“Joy. So, shitty Master,” the former pillar fully focused on the young man. “How many new
are you cheating on Kyrielight with?”
There was no other possible reaction to that but laughter.
“I’m not counting, Barbatos.”
“Uwah, gross. Stay away from me, I’ll get pregnant. I’ll give birth to a half-piece of shit, half-tentacle horror.”
They could hear laughter from the Chaldea communication line. It seemed da Vinci and Mashu had company. Speaking of Mashu, only sounds like “uuuu…” came out of her.
“But, I mean, it’s not like I blame you,” continued the demon. “It’s hard to keep a smidgen of decency in a place where some creepy man-woman can peep on you at any time and any place. Ceiling da Vinci’s really watching you masturbate.”
Francis Drake’s rambunctious laughter was heard loud and clear from the other side of the line.
“I mean, I guess that’s fine for Servants—I’ve come to realize that all Heroic Spirits are basically perverts—, but that’s just not a healthy environment for a teenager with way more responsibility than any teenager should ever be allowed to have. Really, who came out with that idea? ‘Hey, let’s place the fate on the world on the walking bundle of hormones! He’s obviously the most qualified to make the tough decisions’.”
She paused.
“Ah, right, Solomon. Let me tell you: the books don’t say anything about Solomon outside the throne room where he, ya know, ‘imparted his wisdom’.” Barbatos was making air quotation marks. “He was so fucking lame.”
She blinked.
“God, I have so many embarrassing Solomon stories. I didn’t even know they were funny before—I was a demon god, I didn’t care ‘bout that shit.”
“We know what we’re doing tonight!” announced King David through the Comm. Line.
The Master of Chaldea could only shake his head at the demon’s irreverence.
“You might just be the little sister I didn’t know I wanted.”
“I know I was technically remade and reborn after the Time Temple, but I still feel pretty fucking older than you.”
“Come on, give it a try. Call me
onii-chan.”
“Are your ears full of shit or what?”
“By the power of this Command Seal—!”
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me—”
“I command you, Barbatos! Call me
onii-chan!”
“Imma fuck yo’ shit up,
onii-chan!”
The Chaldea support group grew a little worried when the transmission from Germania became an staccato of musket fire.
“Um…are you there, Chiyou?”
“Yes, yes! Hello, da Vinci, Iron Emperor Chiyou here~”
“Um, what’s going over there?”
“Well, Barbatos-
tan is chasing our Master across the forest, firing her musket here and there.”
It was a very low-speed chase, their feet sinking on the bed of fallen leaves with every step. Chiyou stopped to listen to the words they traded as the Master gave it his all to run away and the Servant did not really try to truly catch up to him.
“Stop running! Non-lethal gun wounds build character and attract bitches!”
“I will not listen to your alluring words, demon!”
“Yup, they’re having fun.”
“P-P—Please stop her, Chiyou.”
“Mah, calm down, Mashu-Mashu. They’re just fooling around. If she really wanted to catch him she’d have already done so, and if she really wanted to kill him, I would’ve already stopped her.” She shrugged. “Let them have their fun, I say. Heck, they actually kinda look like siblings like that. Except, you know, the horns. And the gunfire. And—”
“Holy crap did you just find an Yggdrasil seed just laying down over there!?”
“Aw, fuck, here we go—”
“Can you still give me hearts and pages—”
“FUCK. NO.”
Originally Posted by Dragolord09
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