"Should your Servant fall and you wish to exit the war, you can come here to relinquish your right as a Master. At that point, you'll be under my protection until such a time as you've left the city." Ruler explained, not being able to help the trace of a grin that was forming at the edge of his lips. It was only fitting that the Master of that sort of Servant was thinking of those sorts of conditions, as opposed to brazenly charging forwards with all the gall of a young adult novel protagonist.

Frankly, the thought was nearly enough to make Ruler muse over what it would be like if he were just another competitor in this war. The notion was quelled moments later; even with an ideal Master, he wouldn't be capable of doing battle with a combat-capable Servant. Besides that, his other talents...well, without the unfair advantage accorded to the Ruler class, he wouldn't be anything more than an obstacle to be crushed.

"I suppose you could simply exit the city, but while you have those Command Seals, even if your Servant is dead you are treated as a 'competitor'. That is why you're required to come to me to relinquish that title; without doing so, you haven't exited the war, and as such my protection won't apply. If you do manage to leave the city without doing that, though, then I can hardly imagine another competitor would leave the city to hunt you down. In the first place, that would-"

The Servant cut himself off as something changed in a nearby Servant's status. Had a Command Seal been used? From behind his sunglasses, his eyes narrowed slightly as though trying to see through the walls of the church, the Servant in question, a Berserker, now moving towards him.

A Berserker running towards neutral ground, hm? And one that seemed...empowered, at that. Hostility was likely. Ruler's previous disposition slipped, the trace of annoyance entering his countenance as his right hand released the cane it was gripping. Prana began to flow around him, those sigils that marked him as Ruler thrumming with a pale red light.

If the task is just, if the intention is pure, then none should fear charging forwards.

I look upon the world, and think of its beauty. I lift my hand, and declare a truth that transcends time.

The very earth beneath him seemed to call out, the shadow of "something" forming in the Servant's hand, and...!

-The sound of very civil knocking brought a halt to this. Ruler's preparation for a display of power before a rampaging beast was dispelled in an instant, the flow of prana ceasing as his mouth opened and closed silently before he had composed himself enough to respond.

"...ah, yes, please come inside."

---

Dressed in what one could call semi-modern clothes, she had once again just discarded her armor. Thus leaving the same appearance as she had during her ‘patrol’ the previous night. While she did still want to pick something up to walk around, this appearance didn’t stand out too much for now thankfully.

“Understood My Lord. Let us depart then.” Speaking calming, she pushed her hair down against her neck, and took a deep breath. She still felt humiliated that her report the previous night had come to nothing due to whatever the creature had been leaving. As a result, she was doing her best to not get excited or act without thinking. It created a feeling from her though as if she was simply trying to be colder when she was a hot headed person.

“The proper meeting place is a church if I’m correct?” Making sure of the facts before she took off, she also made a quick thought and looked at the door. “Actually, My Lord, would you prefer I astralize for now then? So no one sees us outside? Or would you like me to remain so no one finds it odd for another person to be around you at another time?”

She couldn’t make an easy decision on whether to stay hidden or not, as both versions of the idea had its benefits. If she stayed hidden, her existence wouldn’t be questioned. But it would also make it harder to explain her if anyone saw them together and actually was trying to learn about her Master. As well, other servants would likely be able to sense her either way, thus making the question of which would be more efficient.

The after thought of astralizing to take up less energy also came, but that wasn’t her largest concern. Her largest concern was the will of the man she was serving under, and efficiency in battle for now.

@Breo

Archer grinned at his Master's questions. It amused him that his Master would be most worried about his well-being, despite being expected of. He still, however, can't help but feel a bit insulted that his Master would allude that he would die so easily. Still, however, he can't get mad at his Master for this. He put him off as being a pragmatic man. Hell, Archer would've asked the same questions first, in his shoes...

"As if I would allow myself to be felled that fast... " Archer quipped, crossing his arms. He said nothing else on the matter, letting Ruler answer Alex's questions.

And then Ruler had stopped, rather abruptly at that. He looked at Ruler, scanning his movement. He wouldn't stop mid-sentence like that if something wasn't wrong, Archer thought. Then as Ruler's disposition began to change, Archer knew something was wrong. As Ruler had began to take action, Archer quickly dove to the side, towards Alex, bringing himself and his Master out of the way from the door.

Something was wrong, indeed, and whatever it was, it seemed as it was going to crash through the door behind them. Archer had to assure that he and his Master did not take the brunt of whatever happens. Perhaps it was one of those Servants that caused Ruler to be summoned in the first place. Why else would they be attacking neutral ground, anyway? Archer prepared himself, not to manifest his weapon, but to defend his Master from whoever- or whatever- comes smashing through. He'll take this advantage to both see Ruler's capabilities, as well as what this Servant can accomplish. Archer stood up, in front of his Master, bracing himself for...

A polite knock, followed by a kindly sounding voice. Archer looked to the door, confused, then looked back to Ruler. Whatever power he was drawing out seemed to dissipate... and he seemed to welcome whoever was behind that door. Were they safe, after all? Archer relaxed a bit, before looking back at the door. He still stayed in a defensive position, in front of his Master, in case he was wrong, but from what Archer had deducted so far, whatever threat that was coming from them has... calmed down.

@Beloss@Moonlit Sonata@Berserk Gene

---

The old astrologer contemplated Ruler answer, and found he didn't like it. Making his way over land with no Servant through a strange city to claim sanctuary at a stationary point which his pursuers would know ahead of time... it sounded more like a foxhunt for the Clocktower aristocrats than an opportunity to surrender. That Ruler thought it unlikely anyone would pursue him far beyond the city was enough to make his conclusion definitive.

Before Ruler could finish however, they were interrupted by the approach of a surge of prana, no doubt a Servant. Before he could react himself, Archer was already moving, sweeping him aside and away from the direct path of the oncoming Servant.

Alex dropped his cigaret, focused on the doors they had just entered through, and reached instinctively for his gun, incantations beginning to formulate themselves in his mind. Usually he could tell instinctively which would serve him better, the bullet or the Aria, but he realized with alarm that he wasn't really sure in this case. A gun would be useless against a fleshless spirit, but against something swirling so thickly with prana most of his spells would be nearly as inconsequential.

He began to contemplate some of his more nasty curses, unpleasant things which he rarely used, when suddenly the tension in the room was undercut by a soft knocking.

Not entirely convinced, with as much depression as was possible, Alex began to take further steps back into the pews, and to reinforce his legs.

Archer, if this gets ugly, be ready to go. Cover my retreat. If you can, aid Ruler, but don't make it a priority.

---

@Moonlit Sonata @Cu Chulainn

In order to reach the area of Shinto that they had started off towards, a certain pair that could only be characterized by their inexperience had passed through the graveyard, the cleanest path that avoided being noticed by others.

However, in this case, that decision to head for Shinto instead of the church on a hill could only be called a mistake.

---

Muramasa would feel it before he saw it. The presence of a Servant. And, once he felt its presence, so too did it feel his presence. The previously-distant figure immediately grew closer, approaching at a speed that only a Servant could enter the realms of.

Something was wrong. Not the magus, but the Servant could feel that something was wrong. Horribly wrong. Transcendentally wrong. Terrifyingly wrong.

This was not the mere worry that "a powerful enemy approached". This was something that shouldn't have been possible.

Fear. It was fear, but it wasn't fear that originated in his blood as a human. His blood as a human didn't seem to feel anything wrong.

His blood as an oni, though, was screaming. Bellowing, roaring, shrieking at him.

You'll die.

You'll die.

You'll die.

Run away. Run away. Run away. This thing is wrong it's wrong it's wrong. It shouldn't exist. You cannot hope to resist this thing. You will be utterly destroyed. You will be unmade. You will be returned unto the dust from whence you came.

Slaughterer. Conqueror. No, it's too weak. How is it weak but this terrifying. What did it do how many did it cut a path through how how how---

"...oh, damn. You're not him. I felt a Servant on my way over, so I thought it might be him, but I guess not. Damn, damn, damn. That kinda pisses me off, ya know? Got my hopes up, thought I'd get to start playing with him before night."

Standing before the Master and Servant, she appeared.

The night had been spent preparing. Practicing. Sharpening his skills. He had set up targets in the fields that his estate owned, sharpening his marksmanship skills, as well as how fast he can reinforce his sight, and his speed once his position was given away after firing. He also practiced his skills in combat, brushing up on his training in various martial arts. Tonight was a night spent planning and perfecting his martial skills.

Come the morning, Hisoka figured he and Cao Cao would visit Mount Miyama, to get some breakfast, and to get attuned to the area. Hisoka had both his LH9s concealed in his jacket, in the off chance they were attacked in the morning. The familiar he made had probably been sent to the Church by now, and Hisoka had planned to check in once the Church had stopped recieving normal visitors. He had Cao Cao come with him in his spirit form, at least until they find more suitable clothes for him to wear while out in the open.

Any sort of clothes you would prefer to wear, Cao Cao? I believe it would be best you had something to wear during public excursions, or at least something more comfortable to wear when your armor isn't needed.

Of course, clothes and breakfast weren't the only reasons Hisoka visited Mount Miyama. He also needed to do some errands as well, such as that bird house he needed to gather more birds to make familiars with. He also came to get a general feel of the area, both for himself and for Cao Cao. Hisoka needed to find an area away from his home he could fortify, and perhaps lure enemy Servants and Masters into a trap. He'll have to do so, seeing as his Servant is unsuited for direct combat. Hisoka has also made a mental note to attempt reinforcement on his Servant once they get home.

It seems like today will be the first in a long day of preparation.

@Psyker Landshark

youtube.com/watch?v=KIBXOmbd4CU&index=9&



Standing before the Master and Servant, she appeared.

Wrong wrong wrong.

Death, no, worse than that. To face that was something he knew to be wore. He didn't know what exactly, he didn't know why. It made no sense. This was a servant, it was something that was similar to him and yet this feeling. It was no overwhelming predator, it was no unfair disparity akin to the dread a peasant felt confronted with a knight.

"Master!"

His voice rung out carrying enough emotion to make the blade that materialized in his hand shudder. No, don't fight it, don't confront it. This was not a matter of a fight. What was it? He didn't.. he couldn't. No, he didn't want to be here. He who faced the rejection of humans, the demonetization of his name and the unkind hand of people, who accepted his deeds and moved on from such a past now shuddered in the wake of this unknown.

"We need to leave... now."

The blade in his hand was proof of his legend, proof of his curse, proof of that which shaped him. But in this case the idea of raising it seemed foolish. His hands, clammy from sweat, was white was bone with their grip on the hilt that seemed to cause a creak of protest. He didn't know if it was from his bones or the blade.

Even with this...

"We should run from this servant."



It was another servant. That was obvious enough from his sight alone, and from how fast she came. Even a normal person without eyes like his could've been able to say that she wasn't a normal human. But why then was Berserker reacting so strongly? It was enough that he could feel the anxiety himself, the fear. It was a "pain" that he could see, a vortex that swirled within Berserker as the presence of the girl bore down on them.

Master's Clairvoyance, or so Berserker called it, the servant having explained it, and a few other things in the Grail War as they walked to Shinto. Came in as he laid his eyes on her. Her parameters were higher, but that shouldn't have been the cause for a reaction that strong, right?

He took in a breath.

Sh was weird. No signs of real scars or pain on her. Yet she obviously wanted to fight, she looked forward for it, she came to fight whatever brought that flash of light. Well, they weren't her target... and maybe there was a way to keep it that way.

"Hey, you. Heh, well, sorry to disappoint, but the feeling is mutual. I wanted to see what made that light during the night. We trekked all the way over here just to see, but ah well, I guess we should've just gone to the Church."

He let out a half-hearted laugh. Toshi's eyes glanced between his servant and the girl, unable to decide on a focus, while his body hunched over a bit, back and head lowering. Looking at Berserker he already knew he didn't like the feeling of this. If she could just go away, if she could just leave them alone then. He wasn't ready to fight, not yet. The idea was something he accepted but without the ritual of visiting the church it felt off. But such a regular and controlled baptism was hardly a thing he could ask for in a war.

He finally settled for laying his eyes down on the girl. With a louder voice and a straightening out back he tried to get more comfortable. Although, his head continued to hunch downward.

"So, you're looking for a specific servant? What makes him special anyway? Well, you'll probably not be able to find him if you talk to us too long however."

In response to Nakae, the irritation on the Berserker's brow only seemed to multiply, her jaw clenching in annoyance despite her tone still being fairly casual.

"Oh, you wanted to check him out too, huh? That doesn't really help, y'know. If he gets in a fight before I get to see him, then he won't have time to recover totally. Ugh, there were prob'ly plenty of people who saw that last night too. Damn, damn, shouldn't have had Terror in that part of the city." She muttered to herself before shrugging a bit. Some of her presence dissipated, if only slightly, as she shook her head a couple times.

"Well yeah, for a scrawny little shit, you're right. More time I spend talking to you fucks is the more time I don't spend finding him, so just fuckin-"

"We should run from this servant."

"...eh?"

The Berserker's eyes flitted over to Muramasa with a trace of surprise as she heard him speak. What class was he, a Saber from the look of it? But that white-knuckle grip on his sword, that terrified glint in his eyes, that look that screamed silently as if the world around him was about to crumble. For the first time, Berserker properly looked at Muramasa, and her expression was gradually wiped over with an almost joyful grin as realization set in.

"No shit. You're scared right now, yeah? You're fuckin' scared of me. So in that case..."

"...you're a demon, right?"

---

When dealing with one whose reason has decayed as much as this Berserker's, it was key to avoid anything that could trigger them to action. It could only be called unfortunate that Nakae and his Servant couldn't communicate mentally, in this instance.

Prana flared up around Berserker, her grin being replaced with a manic smile as her eyes lit up. "A demon Servant. God damn. Do you have like, demon limbs or something, or are you one of those fuckin' not-actually-demon beast demon things? Oh god, oh god, oh god, first him and now a terrified-ass demon. Is this fuckin' Christmas or what?" She murmured to herself excitedly, blood-red tongue darting out of her mouth to run over her lips after she'd spoken.

And as the flow of prana reached its peak, something in this world distorted.

...this is an aside, but it is said that there exists a being at the pinnacle of all Heroic Spirits. A golden king who possesses the right to wield a limitless treasury. A treasury filled with the legends of all heroes, as they are mere derivatives of him. A treasury filled with everything that humanity can ever create, as he is the greatest among kings. Against that golden king, all other Heroic Spirits are nothing more than fodder to be struck down.

Berserker was not this golden king. Against him, Berserker would be no different. Her only outcome against him would be an absolute defeat.

However...

"Come on, come on, come on, show me more of that terrified expression-"

_{Gate of Hell}
"Devil's Treasury."

As a tear in space, a pitch black portal formed in the air, a manic grin split her face nonetheless.

Yes, what she possessed could not hope to match up with what that king possessed, that monstrous power that is known simply as "human potential".

But all the same, she possessed something that would strike down those who stood before her.

There is always a world of death. An underworld, Hell, Naraka, Tartarus, something of this nature always exists. It is a basket into which mankind places its fears and that which it deems evil. A demonic sword fated to kill its wielder, a tome which summons horrors from another world, a curse that has acquired a biological form.

And as six cursed blades shot out of this portal, slicing through the air as they streamed towards Muramasa, the one who had conquered this world of death laughed, a frenzied cackle that shattered the air.

It was that very Hell which the hapless Master and limited Servant now faced.

The modern world was absolutely fascinating. Even with knowledge of it implanted into his mind by the Grail, Cao Cao nonetheless deeply preferred to see it with his own eyes. Magi may have despised the onset of technology weakening magecraft, but he found himself admiring the ingenuity behind modern inventions. The world as it was may not have been the bastion of reason and logic he had envisioned, but it was still further along the path than it had been in his time.

Cao Cao considered his Master's question as they walked through the shopping district, glancing around at the fashions of those in the streets. Eventually, he settled on a decision.

I believe a three-piece suit would be suitable enough. Do they come in dark blue?

In the meantime, he continued glancing around the area, getting a feel for its layout. As a Servant unsuited to direct combat, knowledge of the surrounding area would be especially helpful for himself.

"Sorry, sorry, was I interrupting something? There's been quite the emergency!"

Whatever they were expecting, it probably wasn't that. Which was more ridiculous, the small mountain of prana that made it abundantly clear that was indeed the Servant they'd anticipated? Or the small mountain of boxes, carrying another, smaller box? Stepping in and taking a moment to make sure to shut the door properly, the box pile gently set down its delivery on one of the pews.

It wasn't possible to make out any sort of gestures or finer details of motion, but the darkened eye holes poked through the topmost box regarded the unknown Master and Servant off to the side. They'd been noticed and acknowledged, but the newcomer would not move against them.

The Berserker opened the top of his delivery box fully, revealing a very sickly-looking girl.

"This girl will probably die of prana drain if she remains contracted to me. Poor lass... that's unacceptable."

There was a tangible ebb in the flow of prana. Even though it had previously waned, and without direct visibility, the Servant was rationing himself as much as possible without going into spiritual form. "I fear for what happened to my summoner." Every minute counted, but the boxzerker waited for the overseer to reply. He was wary of the other pair, but given they'd assumed a position of defense rather than ambush, he gave them the benefit of the doubt for now.

Death, evil, punishment, pain, fear. All that was bad that could happen, all that people didn't want. His skin crawled, he was revolted, this was revolting. To not be disgusted, to not hate and to not be afraid of this was to show one to deviate from what one was human.
Yet.

Was it that bad?

The culmination of peoples fears, what they did not want, what they wished upon the worst of others and their most hated enemies. It was what they wished to stay away from most of all. Anything was fine, to not be here was the reward for virtue, to be here was the punishment for sin. It could be said to be the embodiment of the worst fortune, to be damned to hell. And here was this woman that descended upon it, taking it for its plunder, seeing it as just another place to pillage.

A mad woman who lacked so the pain most others held.

Was it so bad? He was afraid, it was horrible, but it did not hurt as much to look at, compared to many other people. This was what people feared, this was not what people experienced, and so it was not something he shared in. Yeah, as long as it was that, as long as he could live knowing this was the end that people lived to avoid rather than the life people lived moment by moment. He didn't need to see and acknowledge the fact that someone was living that, lived this. It wasn't something that happened, it wasn't something that was happening... well, at this rate it might be happening to him and Berserker. But, this he could live with. It was not pain that he had to share in, it wasn't pain he ignored while it seemed to cry out to him, to anyone to be acknowledge and to be brought salvation to.

Ah, he really was a terrible person, wasn't he?

"Berserker. They're just swords!" he cried out as a reminder to the Berserker who made blades that were himself.


youtube.com/watch?v=4ZcwnpF3AIs

Runrunrunrunrun.

No.

Run.

No. At least, not in the way his boiling blood demanded. If he came to this war, this conflict filled with heroes that were all existences that slew and brought fear to demons and monsters, then he should have been prepared for something like this from the beginning. Perhaps this was an eye opener in a way?

The call of his master shock him back into focus and he jerked his torso to the side, presenting his shoulder towards the incoming blades as he settled into a stance.

Yes, they were just blades, and it would be surprising if there was a heroic spirit in this war that knew them better than him at all.



Cursed Blades of the Dark Capital, imbued with the desires(fears) and hate(wishes) of man. Unfortunately the way this woman fought it seemed unlikely that he would get any good chance to check out their properties. Yet, combining with his own wits and allowing himself to lose himself to the flow of the battle he felt, he saw.

Yes, the shapes of the blades were known to him. Even if their materials were not known, even if he knew not what sort of cursed steel they were... He too held a cursed blade, and there was a key fundamental difference. Not in the make and materials, nor even perhaps in legend and mystery, but there was one vital and fundamental difference between those blades and the one in his hand. To a samurai the blade was their soul. A blade was an extension of the warrior. Likewise the sword was not complete without a peerless warrior that took it into his life and sublimed it into more than a hunk of sharpened metal. Even if the form was similar, even if the function could be said to be similar the distance between a knife and a sword was infinitesimal. That was because of the samurai, the other half of the blade.

He was a smith, not a samurai. But his blade perhaps embodied the relation between man and steel in a terrifying twisted way that ran deeper than any other. This blade was part of him. Into it he imbued part of himself, his bloodthirst, his madness, his curse. All of it was poured into it along with the sweat and toil of each of his hammer strikes. The blade grew under each stroke, pounded out and with his essence poured into it. Such was the nature of each Muramasa. It was a Muramasa within a prison of steel, it was a Muramasa that had a body of steel. Muramasa wielded Muramasa and so the one whole blade stood against the six incomplete ones that rained down.

He saw, he knew. How to strike, how to defend, how to dodge. The rain of blades was not so frightening so long they did not hold a master.

The sight of the Boxzerker was enough to quell the confusion Ruler had, despite the absurdity of his appearance. Really, True Name Discernment was such a useful tool. He had to wonder how the other classes went without it, sounded horrible.

The Servant's brows furrowed at Norton's explanation, though. A Master wasn't even able to support her Servant just being materialized? The Grail wouldn't have chosen her in such a case, right? Ah, but if this was a Berserker that was being discussed, then it made some amount of sense. Even that bit of prana needed to maintain a Servant would be amplified by the force of Mad Enhancement, and in this particular case Ruler could see why that could become problematic.

"...troublesome. Someone simply dying like that...strictly speaking, the rules wouldn't have me do anything, since technically your summoner has brought this upon herself." He murmured aloud, shaking his head in dismay. "However..."

He had felt it once that freak's Noble Phantasm was released. Two Berserkers, clashing in the graveyard not far from here. He didn't know who the other Berserker was, but if they were against that freak then he doubted their odds were good. No, feeling the status of the other Berserker, while True Name Discernment wasn't in full swing, was enough for him to be almost certain of which of these two Servants was stronger, and which had a more capable Master. In which case...

"This is a bit of a headache for me, you know? But, well, I'm no magus, so I suppose the best path of recourse is this one. Unless I'm wrong, a Master in the graveyard's about to lose their Servant, so head over there." He spoke up, a resigned smile gracing his featured. From beneath his clothes, a deep red light appeared, a sharp exhale leaving Ruler before he spoke.

"Apologies for the small breach of neutrality, but you had more time to prepare than anyone else, so consider this a rebalancing. By the order of this Command Seal, Berserker of the Einzberns, you are not to kill the Master of the Servant you are currently fighting."

---

"Come on. More, more, more, faster, faster, faster-"

A manic grin now split the Berserker's face, a crimson lance appearing in her hand. The Berserker's swordplay was admirable. Foolhardy, certainly. Childlike, undoubtedly, but nonetheless admirable.

Those first six blades failed to meet their mark, held off by a cursed sword of equal merit as they sliced through the air. A sharp cackle left Berserker as she snapped her fingers. It was around that point that Muramasa and Nakae alike would notice that the sunlight no longer shined down on them.

Black, black, black. Overhead was a black gate of the same kind that had just summoned those swords, but of a tremendously higher magnitude. Blocking out the sun, it stood over the Servants and Master, an eyeless god looking down upon the world. And yet, the only one to whom it was anything but black was the one here with a body of flesh.

Pain. An incomprehensible ocean of pain. Simply looking at that gate was enough to overload his senses in an instant if he failed to turn his head away immediately after looking upon it.

Hell. What stood beyond that gate could only be called Hell.

"Let's switch up the scenery. This graveyard's just a shitty imitation, so you should really get to see the real thing." Berserker hissed gleefully under her breath, about to will the portal to fly down, to sweep up the three figures in the graveyard, when-



Prana flared up around Berserker without warning, not empowering her but restricting her. Her eyes widened, nearly bulging out of her head as the gateway she had created dissipated without a word. "Ruler..." She choked out, her prior joy wiped over by rage as she gritted her teeth.

It was only a moment's pause in the battle, but perhaps that would be enough.

---

…

He seemed content to stare out from the window, scanning the horizon with eyes that saw much, yet nothing. He had been on edge — that much was clear by his gait, from the more prominent frown adorning his features to the way his very posture seemed more stiff, arms folded before his chest as he sought a foe that might or might not have been there. The methodical tapping on his finger against his arm was the only sound that came from the Servant, lost in thought as he was. Perhaps a certain other would have had better chances of discovering any hidden observer, but Siegfried was not that man, and so, pondering such matters was pointless.

Rather than an actual act of surveillance, it seemed it was simply the posture he had chosen to think last night’s events over.

It had been unbecoming of him. Shameful, even. Normally he always held his emotions in check, but those few hours ago, he was afraid to say he had almost been swallowed up by them. It was not even something that thing had done, he had merely felt so completely disgusted by its mere existence that he had not thought twice about other moves that could have been made.

A victory was a victory, but at what price had this one come? His frown deepened, and the rhythm of the tapping increased. It was not even something that thing had done, rather, it felt as though he simply had no choice but to detest it for what it was.

If nothing else, that had been new.

Perhaps there is some truth to a certain statement — things that are too alike do end up repelling each other. His jaw twitched, as though the idea itself, though not spoken aloud, caused him to flinch. Surely…

His Master spoke behind him, and he left those thoughts aside for a later moment. There were more important matters at hand than what ate at him, and it would not be a problem until it impaired his ability to act as a Servant.

Forgetting about one’s problems is much easier than confronting them.

“If that is your wish, Master, then let us depart when you are ready. I will keep to myself in Spirit Form unless my presence is required — there is little need to have other Masters and Servants catch a glimpse of me, should we run into them.”

Of course, it would also allow her to gather her strength further after the events of last night. Balmung was not a toy to be wielded carelessly, and in a way, he felt ashamed to have needed to use it so early even though she had given permission.

Sorry, Master. It seems you did not contract with as good a Hero as you had hoped.

@ConstantlyComic

---

---

He paused, at the exit, humming to himself a tune he had picked up some years ago, its name forgotten already, but still memorable enough to have him subconsciously do this when thinking at times. Looking down the street, he felt he could safely bet he would not be the only one to attend the meeting with the Overseer today. Though it was the norm to present oneself after a successful summoning, it was also something he felt people would ignore if it was too inconvenient. And certainly, he felt there were few who would disagree with the idea that there were more productive things to get done in the first night than visiting the church when that could easily be pushed to a later date with little complaint.

Taking that into account, he considered what his Servant had asked. Certainly, staying materialized would allow an even quicker response should the need arise, but…

“Well.”, his tone contained a small flicker of unease. It seemed that her report last night had shaken some alarm into him, even if the investigation they had attempted afterwards had not borne fruit. “I would suggest that you keep to Spirit Form when we approach the church unless your presence is required, Lancer. Stay vigilant, of course, but I do not think — or, at least, do not want to think — there are Masters or Servants that would chance an attack in broad daylight, much less in the accorded neutral ground when we arrive. It should be fine so long as we do not veer into the more isolated areas. At least this early, that is.”

Witnesses, after all, were such a bothersome affair to take care of. Really, it was by far easier to everyone involved to keep the secrecy that had been made the norm, even if one did not take the Overseer into account.

So all considered, he felt his orders were reasonable. Hiding as much of his Servant as possible before the actual engagement would be the most beneficial in both the short and long run. He had been dealt his hand, so it was up to him to make the most optimal plays he could with it.

Losing was not an option. His family’s — his pride had already been placed as chips upon the table. To lose would be the same as dying even if no hero of antiquity or magus of modern times actually took his head.

But that was fine. He had already known that the moment he arrived in this town, and he had accepted it.

@Ijoyen

The Boxzerker listened intently to the Ruler's judgment of the situation, and realized that, in his haste, he'd given the wrong idea.

"My summoner, Stirner Cartisius, was kidnapped, Mr. Overseer. This girl was, it seems, a stray Master who had only just arrived."

Norton was not given suitable knowledge of magecraft to precisely describe what he'd noticed of his current Master, but the Ruler's words referring to the 'Berserker of the Einzbern' was something he quietly committed to memory. "A monster snatched him right out of the hotel room, faster than my eyes could even process. I am not an expert in these matters, but does this not qualify as external interference, potentially by something quite dangerous?"

Boxzerker waved one of his box-covered hands at the other pair. "That is a Servant, so are you and I, that thing was absolutely not." The pile of boxes shuffled and faced Ruler directly. "You yourself just showed me you have at least some idea of what we're all up to at a given time, so if indeed there were no other Servants in proximity to the hotel I was summoned at, that is proof of an external intrusion."

Nevertheless, he had to hurry, and had only bothered to clarify out of genuine concern for his summoner. "Thank you, Mr. Overseer, I will be off. You two, I don't know who you are, but I'm forced to leave this poor lass here for now. Please leave her be to withdraw from this."

The pile of boxes fell emptily to the floor, as the Servant within discorporated into spiritual form.

---

He'd seen the way to the graveyard in-transit here, it in fact wasn't very far at all. Just a small triangle of the forest was between the church and graveyard, for fairly obvious reasons.

Yes, he could continue approaching, but he realized a crucial detail. The overseer had said that a Servant was about to be killed, and had been gracious enough to use a Command Spell to enforce the Master's survival. Keyword: ABOUT to be killed. If he arrived too soon, he could very well interrupt the battle, and end up at square one. Or worse yet, end up targeted while lacking a stable prana supply.

This was a war, and Servants were supposed to die when inevitably killed, of course. It did not bother him to approach steadily and try to watch what was happening, discreetly tucked away in spiritual form while crossing the treetops.

youtube.com/watch?v=gdz-tAez1GY&

Pain, pain.. No not just pain. This was the source of pain, this was the source and end result of suffering. People wished to escape this, people wished to not know this at all, but they knew it because they were the ones who gave birth to it. All that humanity feared and put into hell was that which they understood, knew and disliked. This was more than just pain. Pain was just an aspect, an incarnation of all the curses. Everything that damned humanity born of humanity, every punishment and sin of humanity laid there on the other side. He felt it, he felt it all, cutting through even the pain. But the pain.. The pain was pain was p.. A.. i.. N.. .. A.. p.. A.. i.. N

People's malignance was the shadow of people's glow. It was the sin that encouraged righteousness, it was the evil that encouraged good. The shadow of the Golden Capital, the shadow of Heaven. Selfish, evil. For All the Evils in the World (humanity) there needed to be a reward, a reason for good. The reward was not being there. Anything was good, anything was fine, give any sort of burden just don’t bring that here!..

it’s not right it’s not right... Ah.. I feel.. He was melting away, turning into soup, turning into just another lost soul whose end destination was pain and a cursed eternity.

Falsehood, objectification, destruction, rape, murder, the sanctity of life is torn to shreds. Violence, Hatred, Fearful cruelty.

Atonement.

This was the atonement, this was the punishment that awaited sin. This was death this was death. He was dying, he was dying as a person, his soul being laid out for pain.

This is not enough not enough
not enough
not enough
not enough

not enough…
This doesn’t make up for anything.
This does not even bring zero.

Go away.

He could not say something like ‘I do not deserve this.” For it was the punishment that humanity flayed itself with. No one could say “I do not deserve this.” For it was the end result of all of their misdeeds, thoughts and suffering.

This was the horror born as a counterforce to the ugliness of the crimes of all people.

The most horrifying thing was that one could not escape it, could not justify escaping it.
Wasn’t this what we made to condemn ourselves for our ugliness? To deny it was to deny one’s self, to deny one’s sins.

He was fading, fading into the swirl. Losing himself in the punishments of man.

This was from the few moments he stared into this false-abyss of man.

He collapsed to his knees. He?... He didn’t know what happened for the next few moments, completely unaware of all. His awareness left his body. He threw up, bile flowing out of his convulsing body. Ah, was this blood? Was this the ichor that was like the mud his (humanity’s) actions brought to stain the world?

He couldn’t see, he barely could think. It was only when that pressure, when that gate disappeared from the command of Ruler that he could find himself coherent at all.

All he wanted was for it to go away. All he wanted was that girl to be gone so that wouldn’t appear again. He didn’t need to look at Berserker with his eyes to know he felt the same.
“Berserker..." he choked out. Emotions like he hadn't felt for a long time flooding him as he put into words what they already knew between each other.

Make her go away, kill her.

“Fly to her.”

A seal upon his hand flared to life, the crystalized energy flooding into Berserker and given shape in the form of a miracle due to the desire (wish) of Toshi.

A wish that the two shared, the seal burned as a catalyst for an absolute command that the servant gave himself to.An absolute command with one simple part. Energy flooded Berserker and so with an earthshaking roar born from the ground in protest as he leapt, Berserker flew.

“I use my second…" he trailed off for a moment, fighting to able to put the words to voice. Berserker, give the blow that kills her.”

His stomach churned, his lungs burned, his brain throbbed and his eyes were cloudy as it had been forced to witness and realize more than it was prepared. But he felt relief.

This was their only chance, if they took it and all fell apart then there wasn’t anything to regret then, right?

-=====-


youtube.com/watch?v=inAtmHHcg78&

A horror, a land where they would surely come to be consumed. Just as he imbued his blades with his curse, his bloodlust so too did humanity imbue this land with all their curses. The scale of the horror was one in which Berserker could never compete with. This was the horrors that would conquer any man born of man, while the heroic spirit that stood before him was one that would conquer demons. He was presented with that which would lay waste and ruin him, and could only feel fear.

A cry of pain behind him brought his eyes whipping to the side out of concern for his master. He opened his mouth to speak out when he heard the first command.

Ah.

Yes, the pain and state of his master wasn’t what was important right now. There was nothing more he could do than understand them and recognize them. The two of them were filled with this fear and desire in the face of this glimpse at that realm.

He was filled to the brim as he let the command resonate with his own fears, desires and wish. He let himself become its vessel, he let himself become its expression.

That monstrous crystallization of energy filled Berserker completely and burned into his body. He was rippling with energy that he could not fully hold. He flew, his limbs bringing him to flight as the command brought him to propel himself like a rocket, perhaps even matching the speed and might of one of that one's Archer arrows that reached an Extermination Rank in fearsomeness.

The command was to fly to her, that is, to arrive to Dulle Griet. The distance between the two was swallowed up to be reduced to zero. Even if she were to retreat into that other realm he would follow, the command urging Berserker to conquer that distance.

He brought his blade forth, it flooding with his own energy, with the energy of the second command. In life he had imbued his blades with his curse, with his bloodlust. Into them he moved the yoke of his burden, of his existence. But now he was carving into it a desire, his own simple wish, the wish of his master. The two blended in together, causing the blade to move for a stroke, not for the spilling of blood but the overpowering wish of defeating and slaying Dulle Gritte.

He didn't know if it would be enough with her rejection of interference born of demons, something that even he counted as, if only partially for the purpose of her abilities. But with the command bolstering him and guiding him there was no hesitation.

The cursed blade rose to strike the one who owned all such curses as a blade to engrave the wish of two souls for victory and escape.
The blade descended upon her like a shooting star, aiming for her spiritual core.

“Disappear!”

He was no real demon born from the wishes of man. But please, let him enact a wish of a man, and himself just this once.

The Ruler, a man who shined as a beacon of heroism. A man who stood atop the world. A man who bore witness to her Hell and laughed in its face. Even if she didn't know his true name, the radiance that flowed from his body like a repulsive reek of purity was enough to make that much obvious.

The Archer, a man who should be awash with fear and steeped in hatred. A man who should scream in anguish for all that he has lived through. And yet, the version of him that had been summoned lacked that futility and rage that he should have possessed. A man who neglected her Hell and ran forwards, rejecting the mistakes he had made in pursuit of his hopes.

Her Master, a miserable fool who doesn't even realize how much of a clown she is. Stop smiling, stop smiling, stop smiling. Do not extend that hand to me. Do not look on me like I am something to be fixed. Do not nod in understanding when I go out to hunt. Do not watch my Hell and say that you will find a way to make those tragedies into nothing. You don't understand. Why don't you understand? Why won't you pull that hand back? Why will you not stop smiling-

His Master. His Master. His Master. Absurd, you're absurd. You're not something that can be sustained. You're putting a weight on yourself that makes even me laugh. It's not possible. Only someone like me who has seen Hell can tell you it with certainty. It can't happen. You're not strong enough, nobody's strong enough. A single person cannot erase Hell, and even if you could, it wouldn't do anything. You have to know it's pointless. You have to know that utopia you're chasing after won't be realized. You have to know that everything you've lived for is just an ephemeral dream ready to shatter, so why won't you just roll over and die?

Heroes, you're all fools. You can't defeat Hell. You are chosen by the Human Order, and so you cannot defy those tools designed by that very order to be turned against itself.

I condemn you.

You can't defeat my Hell. You can't reject my Hell. You can't create a perfect world. You should stop and accept your death.

I do not desire the Holy Grail. All I want is to see more of that terrified expression. All I want is to conquer, to pillage, to revel in the madness of this world. It doesn't matter that it's one-dimensional or simpleminded, because at least it's more consistent than your foolish attempts to do the impossible.

A boy sits alone, imprisoned by his own people. On his skin is carved all blasphemies that mankind has ever once uttered.

You are a demon. You shouldn't look upon me like that, with those eyes that plead for a miracle.

---

Facing certain death by the strike of Muramasa's blade, she could only smile.

She was weak.

Even if she was the strongest Servant of this war, she of all people knew just how weak she was. A third-rate vengeful spirit who had taken a paltry claim to power and clung to it until illusion became truth.

In that, Dulle Griet truly was a pathetic being.

But it didn't matter if she was weak. It didn't matter if she was pathetic. It didn't matter if she was comical.

As long as the treasury of the black capital lay at her back...

No hero could stand against her.

Foolish sword-wielder charging forwards, carrying that wish to overcome humanity's evils...

It's weak.

It's hilariously, incomprehensibly weak.

Because if this strike of your blade is forged out of "hope".

It seems I'll have to show you something that surpasses that "hope".

"...ha...ahaha...ahahahahaha!"

A cackle leaves Berserker, a manic glint of insanity filling her eyes.

Try as he might, Nakae Toshi is merely a human. The time needed to invoke not one, but two of those seals upon his body was the span of several seconds. Even in a fight between humans, this was significant, but in a fight between Servants?

By the time he had invoked the first Command Seal, the instant's pause in Berserker's onslaught had already ended and she had recomposed herself. With the speaking of the second, her preparations had recreated themselves. With the charge that flew on the heels of the second command, then, any advantage that could have been gained by that momentary pause was negated.

She could defend herself, she could meet his attack with one of her own, but even though he was a demon that sort of choice was foolish. She didn't know how strong he was when empowered by his Master as he was, nor what that blade he held was capable of. So then...

There is no applause.

There is no applause.

For as Muramasa charged forwards, a dazzling star launched to strike down the enemy before it, something formed between himself and his target. Not a weapon, not a shield, not a curse.

A gate.

An arrow once loosed cannot change its flight. Even empowered by a Command Seal, Muramasa is not something capable of this. Even a stronger Heroic Spirit who could ordinarily accomplish such a feat would likely fail here as well, simply because of how little distance was between the two when the gate formed.

Why would she flee into that other world, and leave him an opening to follow her in through, when it was so much simpler to let him waste the energy he was given to charge in there himself? Oh, no, if that Master was willing to use his third Command Seal then perhaps it would be possible for Muramasa to escape from Hell and rejoin this world. Ordinarily it would likely take two such seals to do so, but with the residual inklings of energy from the command to kill Dulle Griet, one would likely be possible.

However, as the gate vanished along with he who had stepped through it, Berserker was well aware that this chance would simply not come about.

It is said in some lands that those who enter Hell are stripped of their relationships. Their loves, their friends, their memories. All such attachments they had to others in life are severed so that they can be baptized in the flames of punishment anew.

Yes, Dulle Griet could not crush the impulse of Ruler's command to kill the human before her, but she didn't need to. For as the gate that had whisked her enemy away had formed, another had manifested behind Nakae himself, and from it shot a dagger that would merely graze his flesh. It was certainly not enough to kill, scarcely enough to injure, and yet it was enough. For once that dagger had reached him, that final Command Seal would go grey.

The contract to his Master severed, the only fate that laid there for Muramasa would be to fade away inside Hell.

A fitting end to a demon, she felt.

The Emperor watched from afar, atop the trees, able to make out the small human, the black void, and the general circumstances.

A Servant was swallowed by darkness. He knew of war well enough. It brought out the best of men, the worst of men, the progress and despair of men. Yet, that Master was not a soldier. A cresting wave of horror radiated from the black abyss.

He accepted the reality of war, and that combatants would die in it. It was harsh truth, but bitter medicine did a body good. It was not perfect or ideal, but it was what happened.

And in this war, two Command Spells had just been used. Having received the full energy of one himself, it was easy enough to recognize the eruption of miraculous prana, twofold, even if the audible command hadn't been given.

That was when his Master's voice unexpectedly entered his head. Telepathy? As a familiar, he should be able to do that, as Stirner had demonstrated during their brief window of establishing what each other could do. But this Master had not been capable of it before...had the opening of her magic circuits permitted her to connect in some way? The Emperor was uncertain as to how, but welcomed the surprise.

Promise me something, Norton. I gave you a second chance, so-
Of course, lass.
Stop calling me that! ...And that isn't what I'm asking!
Master, I don't think I can do anything here right now.
Me too. I wanted to save my sister, entering this war. I'm not cut out to be a magus or a Master though, and that sucks. I can't change that.

Incorporeal yet fully able of sensing his surroundings, Norton felt his eyes sting, as if on an over-dry day. Was it from watching the fate of Nakae and Muramasa? From seeing a maniacal Berserker tear open a gate to...there? Demonic weaponry rained from it, a knife shot from behind the human...it was not a battle in war that families would sing of, it was a one-sided massacre. Cold, pitiless, and pointless.

You won't need to save me too anymore. Just your other Master, and my sister. She's been bitten by a Dead Apostle. You're an Emperor, right?
Of course I am. Emperor, Saint, I'm plenty. Just not a hero, he thought to himself.
I heard that, don't think like that when we- Promise me you'll save her then!
How?
With the Grail, dumbass! Airi's irritation rumbled through the link, but also the way it was rooted in her sense of helplessness. And they both agreed, unspoken, that neither of them wanted to be powerless.

But that was an incredible thing to ask, all the same. Norton understood what she meant. He'd answered the summons for the prospect of the wish, after all. To give up...no, he realized, they could be reconciled. He would simply wish in such a way that would satisfy them both. A leader had to be inspirational, and an Emperor had to be magnificent.

I promise. The Emperor of the United States shall do so!
Good. I've gotten this far in life before this war, and I don't need magi gunning for me while I'm crippled by you. So I'll just do it this way...

---

"By my remaining Command Spells...these seals, even my wish...I give them all to my Servant!"

Airi chose to give up her Command Spells, leaving other participants in the Grail War with no reason to bother her, or so she thought. This would eliminate the burden on herself while Norton still "had a Master", and that'd be the best condition for them both.

The marks faded from her hand. The aching burden faded from her body. The sensation that her bones had become cold jelly, her muscles limp weights, they were finally leaving. Each breath drew in precious vitality for her, as her condition began to improve.

She'd used the 2nd Command Spell partially to make that possible. A Servant needed to be able to receive and (usually) understand the contents of a Command Spell. Her command and its phrasing was already in mind, and her intention was resolved, thus the link had been opened. It had to use some of the energy of the Command Spell, but only an extremely trivial amount. Command Spells could enact Spatial Transportation, something near the domain of True Magic. To do something even the most laughably poor magus could have done in her position had only required the tiniest of droplets, compared to the torrent a Command Spell was capable of.

It wasn't something she'd understood the process of, but it had worked. And it wasn't something she'd be able to do again.

---

Though Norton remained in spiritual form, he felt them. He knew them, he had them and accepted them, as they anchored him.

...Anchored? No, solidified? The best word failed him, but he felt his connection to Airi remained. He could treat the Command Spells as a slow-burning Prana supply, but even then he'd need to remain loathsomely frugal.

A phantasm couldn't tie a phantasm to the present.

The World wasn't so easily calmed, of course. Even if a Servant had dozens of Command Spells like Ruler, they would have no chance of lingering without support, much less taking action. The World would crush him as unnatural the same as any other distortion, as any other Servant.

However, Norton attempted to partially stave off the World's desire to scrub him out of it.



Imperial Decree, a D-rank skill of his, was consciously enacted. It would not strengthen him. It would not empower him. In fact, the skill was wholly unable to endow the benefits of meeting any criteria imposed on him besides merely doing. He'd become an Emperor merely by affirming that he was, and that was one of the two central concepts of his legend as a Heroic Spirit. Even in the present, he had admirers for it.

Still, he was skeptical he could satisfy The World simply by trying to tell it that he was just fine and normal in the modern day, but it was worth a shot. Maybe he could at least reduce the cost of manifesting? He'd need to conserve every possible unit of prana he could.

Berserker missed Stirner a lot by now. Having a competent magus as his Master had meant not having ANY of these problems in the first place! At least he had Airi, but she couldn't truly handle the need of a Berserker-class Servant, hence this set-up. Gahhh! How was he supposed to do anything in this Grail War!?

The other Master that was going to be left alive, in theory, by the Einzberserker was not exactly looking in the best condition. To be summoned into this Grail War and then denied the possibility of doing anything in it was too cruel.

Streets of Shinto: Under the uncaring moon.

He could barely see it happen. So slow, slow. His words were slow, and even as the world spun and the sensation of pain blinded him he could feel the moments so small that they seemed like grains of sand slip by. The vital moments of destiny that fell before they had a chance to reach out for them.

Barely past the moment his words were said he felt the sting of a cut. He couldn’t feel that pain, not something nearly as small as that. It was the rush of wind, the force that pushed into him. The small nick wasn’t felt. There was too much going on to feel it. In comparison it would have almost been comforting. Hurt him hurt him, punish him, absolve him. All the wrongs he did, all the evils born from him must be paid for with pain. But that pain no not that pain that pain that pain that pain.

Something like mere physical pain would have been fine, even if it was the sensation of being boiled alive, or burned and melted down into a paste.

He was gone, Berserker was gone. Without even knowing things like the identity of his servant, knowing all that much of the war itself or even being able to stand a chance, he had lost. It was a half-baked participation that started with an accidental summoning. No one could blame him for the way things turned out. Yet…

He ran, ran as soon as Berserker disappeared, when the last mark faded away. He knew of defeat and knew that there was no reason to be there anymore. Turning away, hoping to flee from that hell that his mind would fall apart in, he ran.

It was like there was no sound, no life. Running through the city that seemed seeped in a complete darkness and pause, he could not hear even the steps of his feet as they struck the streets, nor hear the blood that seemed to boil in his body. It felt useless to run from that, after all it was an ultimate end, the final destination of a soul seeped in evil.

He never considered himself a good man.

He only stopped running when the ground suddenly rose to strike him. No, wait. He only just fell. That was all there was to it. The shock of the impact that suddenly struck him brought the world crashing back into his perception.

He felt the impact across his hands, his hip, his knees. But he didn't feel anything. Everything was dull, almost dead feeling. He rolled over to stare up at the moon. It looked comforting, it looked mocking, it looked judgemental. No, to begin with such perceptions and thoughts were just thoughts that he pushed into it. It was just a piece of rock in space.

What a half-assed attempt. Even if he wasn't what a master should be he still was intending to be as serious as he could be about this war. His hope at the moment of the fight was dashed away, and he felt the small niggling of hope, of the thought that perhaps he could attain a normal life swelling to make itself known before it was smothered.

Ah this ache. This ache he felt was a pain he didn't know, not even thanks to that hell. If that pain was of all the torments and curses that struck one with inevitability then this was a pain that one would never expect, even if it was realistic to know it would inevitability come.

This was what wanting something was like. His life he went for what was less bothersome, less painful. He danced around his vision, and never really stepped out towards something. Even if his vision was a thing there was more he could have done. Ah, in the end maybe he was just blaming it. No, it definitely was the fault of his eyes, but…

That didn't matter, whether he was to blame or they were to blame.

He began to feel things again. Warmth seeped through his body, but it felt like it was there only to be leached away by the voracious wind. His vision got blurry as the ache deepened.

He wanted it, that wish. He truly wanted it.

"Ah, damn it!..."

His voice came out as a croak as the first tears began to drop. Toshi stretched out his hand, no longer with the symbols of a master branded upon them, towards the distorted moon in his eyes.

It was definitely a mocking moon.

Even if it was too late, even knowing it was most pointless now of all times, he made a wish. He made a wish with his aching heart and spoke a wordless cry. He wanted the grail, he wanted to win. Then why? why did it have to be like this?

Even dying for the wish could have been more satisfying, but he couldn't find himself to want death even in this humiliation and heartbreak.

He wanted it.

Did he ever actually want anything else.

Ah. This is what real personal pain was. The ache was different, less abhorrent than the horrors of hell. Yet in a way it was just as disgusting. It was the tragedy and disgustingness of himself.

The Grail.

Why couldn't it have been his?

Feeling sorry for himself, perhaps as he had his entire life, he let out his tears and wept.

After having rolled her eyes silently at her servant's comment while her back was turned to him, Lorelei had gone about finishing her preparation for the day before setting out for her first destination. The Church. Information on this conflict, at least any she could get from this "Ruler", would be valuable when it came to her primary mission here. Though beyond this...she perhaps had some other silent motives about what she wanted to ask this Ruler-class servant too. Only last night had she barely salvaged her ability to participate here...well, it was more like her servant had taken pity on her and agreed to continue fighting. But at any rate, she wanted to make sure of some things as well, perhaps conditions between master and servant and such. With her servant complaining about the place her base was, which she had set up a basic bounded field over during the previous night even, and such factors, she felt she could not ignore the possibility her servant might stop fighting for her at a moment's notice if the right conditions came up.

After all, while Rostam was a great and devout hero-warrior of legend she had been fortunate enough to summon as her servant, his wish had been fulfilled, and she was herself unsure if he would be able to motivate himself to stay with her through the rest of the war. And really, it had also brought into question something else. What was her own wish for the Grail? If she got that lucky to win all of this and not just survive, what would she do? Wish for the Baggett Family to prosper? With to be incarnated into a proper human body or something? Truth be told, she had been so focused on her mission upon her own arrival, the matter had seemed so trivial and unimportant at the time. Yet after the last night's close encounter with a powerful enemy servant at the abandoned house, and Rostam's wish nearly keeping her from participating after it was unintentionally fulfilled right after his summoning, the matter seemed to have more of a weight to it now. The other masters here, they each had a wish...no, a miracle that they each desired of the Grail, no matter how small or great it could be in scale or context for them. It was a driving motivation for them, and also for their servants as well when it came down to it.

After having cleaned up and dressed herself, she had taken a taxi to the other side of the city, with orders for her servant to follow in spirit form alone. After the last night, she did not want to risk breaking the war's rules of not exposing magecraft any more than she could, and by using normal human public transportation she hoped to avoid the peering eyes of any mages or familiars during the trip. At least, that was the plan. Of course traffic had managed to keep her waiting a little bit, so by the time she had been dropped off at the church where Ruler the homunculus had lightly huffed at how long it had taken. She had used a taxi before in other places, and it had not been this bad before! Still, it had made do.

"We are finally here, Rider. Are you here on the grounds as well?" Lorelei messaged to her servant through their link as she got out of the cab and watched it go away into the distance away from the building, only letting out a sigh of relief after it was finally out of sight.

Walking up towards the doors of the church, the homunculus hesitated for a moment as she pulled her left hand up to knock on the door. She did not know if Ruler was busy at the moment, or if he was a heroic spirit of a bad temperament if interrupted. But considering his position, he would be open to some visitors, right?

Pushing past her slight hesitation, the female homunculus finally knocked on the doors of the church. Well, it was time to see if she could speak to this Ruler at any rate.

@Beloss

---

The tyrant looked on, leaning forward with her chin in her hands and her elbows resting on her legs as she sat on the floor. A sense of boredom that donned her face in part was very obvious, though at the same time there was...something else at work as well. It was as if she was both bored to death yet simultaneously thinking on the matters as Ernest spoke to her. Mainly her boredom was from the lack of a good feast really, and she could almost imagine the taste of a morning breakfast of freshly caught game and rice among her other favorite delectable that would be served in great heaps before her and her generals. It made her a tad nostalgic for a moment, though eventually the thoughts of battle plans and her listening to Ernest explain more things and show her locations on the map before them eventually brought her seemingly out of the mood she had been in. At least, brought her out of the mood of boredom enough to make it seems like she was seriously thinking about this stuff to a certain extent.

The tyrant gave a light huff after Ernest finished his explanation, though whether it originated from her thoughts on the info or possibly from her former demure related to the lack of a feast was most likely up to Ernest's best guess on the matter. Regardless, the king seemed content to stretch her arms for another moment before speaking again to her master.

"For starters, from what information i have on magi it makes sense they would set up camp there. Especially if they have a Caster. I'd say the people who organized this war, if they ar participating, likely have two of the locations of those fallen leylines secured already with good servants. So we'd probably be good to not go there right away, especially since they have the home field advantage. At least, that'd all be the case if they are smart anyways," Chi-You said, partly shrugging as she spoke about the matter to her master with a sense of directness, authority, and bluntness, as if she were speaking about war like it was a business matter that she had done many a time over in life...which oddly enough, she most likely had when it came down to it, "But i'd not waste a scout on looking at those places unless you have a way of making new scouts...er 'familiars' i guess....if or when whatever we send there is killed. But if ya can make more familiars, i'd risk losing the bird or something to check out that temple place first while its the middle of the day and people are around, and then later maybe look at that abandoned house in that neighborhood near the school. They both seem like good places to secure a base, at least if ya don't want to be attacked in the middle of the day since people would be out and about such areas and exposing the war is bad an' all."

Rolling her left shoulder with a light "pop", the tyrant paused for a moment to glance at her master and the map a little more, her experienced eyes scanning its surface and recalling the information she had just been given before speaking up once more.

"That aside, i'd say send a thrall on the most public and safe route available to get as much info on this war as you can from the Ruler guy the Grail sent for this war. Have the thrall write it all down and come back here as soon as possible. Seriously, one way to lose a war is to not ask questions. Have the thrall ask em' about how many servant need to die for the Grail to come out, and other stuff like that so we have all the info we can get. That and have em' jot down what the other masters and servant looks like right " the Saber-class servant continued as she looked down at the map once more, "If the thrall can't do that much for some reason, then we could go get the info and write it down. Otherwise i'd say avoid the forest completely for now until we learn more, and if ya want to go out we could check the hotels and rental houses or something. Seriously, if someone wants to avoid sitting on those hotspots you call fallen leylines, then those areas would be good for observing. Just don't go into any of them in case they are protected or something, but that's just my recommendation on the matter."

"Beyond all of that, you need to think of something too," the tyrant said, finishing her speaking to her master in regards to strategy and such, her former mood seeming to return to a certain extent for a moment, "If you are going to rely only on me for the entire war, you won't be much of a subordinate really."

Ah, so that was it.

@DrowsyPangolin

---

Rostam had followed the curious yellow chariot closely in spirit form as it crossed the city. It was a fascinating contraption, and he wondered if he would be able to pilot one himself at some point. His high rank in Riding allowed him to see how the machine was operated quite easily, and if he could but grasp the controls, he knew he should be able to use it without issue.

Ultimately though he knew it was useless. Only two mounts had ever been able to bear his tremendous weight, and besides the seat from which the taxi was operated was far to small for his frame, just as most everything in this queer day and age seemed to be.

Easily keeping pace with his Master, Rider waited for the car to depart before shimmering into existence beside the small conjurer. The building before them was some kind of temple (A Catholic Church his grail given knowledge whispered to him), and seemed to have a high vaulted roof, much to his delight.

Rostam frowned however, when the contents of the building became clearer to him. There were at least 3 Servants inside all at once, no- make that 2. He could feel a Servant departing as he spoke, shifting to spirit form and flying away.

Not to far away he could feel the power of an additional two Servants clashing with one another, and for a moment contemplated going to see what they were about. He hesitated however, and decided against it for now. It would not do to leave his Master alone here. Though his wound had closed and he no longer bled, a lingering weakness from his injury was still noticeable to him, making him less than eager for battle at the moment.

"Be aware Master, there are already two Servants here. It is time to meet some of your competitors I think."

Dematerializing once again to be able to fit through the door, Rostam followed his Master in, and reappeared on the other side behind her as she entered.

Towering over everyone else in the room Rostam put his hands on his hips and surveyed the assembled crowd with an stern expression.

"Hullo!" He rumbled. [color=f7941d]"We are here to announce ourselves! Attend to my Master Priest, for I am a favored Servant of Orz...." He trailed off, looking down at the floor of the church. "Why is there a pile of cardboard boxes on the floor?"

---

@Holy Grail @Moonlit Sonata