Anastasios Palaiologos and Lucius Tiberius/Saber of Purple (Purple Faction)

As he stood on the balcony of his Neo-Gothic manor house in Mount Taygetus, a Neo-Gothic manor house with towers and a high concrete wall meant to emulate the castles of old, Anastasios Palaiologos prepared his defenses. Now that he and Lucius had demonstrated their strength against both the Clock Tower and Yggdmillenia, no-name Magi with lack of talent or good sense had signed up to be part of the new world order Anastasios had promised them, an order where those without a connection to the Supernatural knew their place. Same for the creatures of darkness which both the Clock Tower and the Holy Church hunted - Dead Apostles and at least one Dead Apostle Ancestor.

Of course, he wasn't blind. The Yggdmillenia Family, whom he had personally betrayed, was calling for his head, the Clock Tower, and the rest of the Magus' Association likewise. Blind fools - Too afraid of the so-called Counter Force to consider radical solutions to the loss of Mystery and the beauty and wonder it represented. Would they rather have the ancient cultures of the world be wiped out by a consumerist mega-culture with no judgment or end goal beyond the comfort of complacent 'masses'?

Not that the obsolete moral framework of compassion and love and 'humanity' didn't have any use - It had allowed him to manipulate his grandson long enough for the latter to distract the Clock Tower from his own plans for a Greater Grail War. Now the clock was ticking to doomsday, and he couldn't be happier...

Darnic Prestone Yggdmillenia and Vlad III/Lancer of Black (Black Faction)

Darnic hated to admit it, but Anastasios Palaiologos' treachery had put all of Yggdmillenia on the back foot, forcing them to change the Catalysts for Servant Summoning, uproot themselves from their home territory of Trifas Castle, and go further into debt trying to transport themselves to the outskirts of Patras, Grece, a crowded city whose thousands of civilians needed regular mental interference not to notice anything. However, not all was lost, for several former dependents of the Palaiogos Family who despised Anastasios' madness and his grandson's weakness had aligned themselves with Yggdmillenia, providing them with a mansion and workshop as well as resources to build a new Homunculi army.

Footsteps can be heard heading in his direction - It was Vlad Dracul, Lancer of Black, his would-be trump card in the war. Where once he would have been summoned as a King, now 'Dracula' was a warrior and bodyguard whose position was to be beside him, warding off all threats. Either way, it was time for himself to sit down on the throne provided by the Plethon Family, their hosts, and give a speech.

"Scions of Yggdmillenia..." Darnic trailed off as he started his speech before the assembled Masters and Servants. "We find ourselves on the backfoot, faced with superior forces on both sides, and uprooted from our home due to treachery within - Anastasios Palaiologos must pay for this! But there is hope, not only in our own strength of will and body but also in this immutable fact - Our enemies hate each other more than they do us!"

"Right now, Anastasios and his gaggle of traitors plan the doom of Humanity, including those who wish for the nobility of Magecraft, and that opens up an opportunity for us. I predict that the Clock Tower will abase itself before us and ask for a truce, and it is then that we will pretend to accept it, just as they pretend to keep it!"

Daniel Palaiologos and Iskander/Rider of Red (Red Faction)

Daniel Palaiologos did not like being humiliated, over and over again. First by falling for his Grandfather’s lies, then by having to pay a fine to the Clock Tower. Granted, the latter was an organization he had wound up joining anyway and much to his surprise, had enough decent folks within it in order to warrant siding with. But the point was that losing all of the Peloponnese to his Grandfather and his so-called ‘Philosopher Kings’ was the latest indignity he was suffering in this entire twisted business.

At least he had enjoyed a year or so under Lord El-Melloi II's personal tutelage, that was a surprising twist in the drama which his life had become. He and Lovise, his fellow Master of Red, had become friends there, too, which was another good outcome of this mess. Nevertheless, this entire business stung.

The Red Team had been gathered near the ruins of the Hexamillion Wall - Daniel may have been a former enemy of the Clock Tower, but he knew the area and thus had a claim to leadership of the Team. So he chose to 'politely request' that the Red Team were to meet up to form strategy here first, a strategy which amounted to him clearing his throat and saying bluntly, "If you guys are wondering why the Mages' Association chose a place with so few luxuries, well, Shielder has a Personal Skill which can improve any pre-set defenses into a magical fortress that can break entire armies like water. And what is this wall but a pre-existing defense with a personal link to Shielder's past life? This and the Leyline will mean that we have the best defense of all three Teams."

A pause for breath, before the boy continued, "Now, for other business: The Philosopher Kings have an extraordinarily powerful Dead Apostle on their side. We need a truce with Yggdmillenia as a result as they hate Dead Apostles too. Will you guys agree, or disagree? If you agree, say yes. If you disagree, say no. Then we can all get to know each other, send our armies against the Philsopher Kings at once, or just split up according to our personal strategies for winning the war."

Iskander was beside the boy, hopefully lending his presence and charisma passively to his Master's suggestions and making the other Red Masters and Servants more receptive to them...

@Letter Bee {@ the rest of Red Team}





The man stands tall, about six feet so. His muscles would put the strongest of bodybuilders to shame, and his breath is so light that one might confuse him for a statue should he not make his presence known. His eyes were blocked and hidden by a leather strap, thrown away with his memories, unable to see the world for its superfluous appearance. However, giving his sight away granted him power.

The power to change the fate of humanity.

Infinite possibilities become void as a result of infinite experience. One's own existence becomes bunk under these constraints. To throw away one’s own existence is to walk the path of the Saint. The man who has cheated death once before due to their constraints has died a different sort of death.

“The destruction of the Purple Faction is something I can agree with. The stagnation of humanity shall lead to its death. Coddling from the teet of benevolence is hardly the existence we should afford to your kind. Humans should achieve so much more than that.”

The man states in a calm, serine-like tone of voice without any sort of inflection or changes in his relaxed posture. His presence seems almost nonexistent. Like a breeze upon the world, barely noticeable on one's skin until it presents itself. Such an unorthodox man seems like they would garner much attention, though, for whatever reason, his calm disposition seemed to disarm one with a kind smile.

Though behind that smile laid nothing. A fleeting existence, like the wind. One could never truly understand the thoughts of someone who had willingly given up their memories, well-spoken as "it" might be.

“Everything is false grandeur; I hold concern for this end should it come to that. If the Yggdmillenia of the Black Faction wishes to call the conflict for another time to deal with a threat of inhuman invaders upon the prosperity of humanity, then I shall simply play my part in this conflict to steer said conflict towards its conclusion. Surely, anyone in this position would see this the same, correct, Valli?”

There is a short pause as Clarenzio nods to himself as if he had affirmed something that he already knew. If someone was paying attention, they might notice that the shadow displayed by this man would contradict the direction that it would typically appear according to the light. A-and was it …. Waving?

His Servant was beside him as well, though it appeared that Clarenzio was paying the Saber of Red little mind. After all, he wished to bring upon change. Though he would need the strength of his Servant, such existences were something he, too, could not comprehend. However, in a way he envied them. Those who brought about change as humans were existences that Clarenzio respected. To reject the ingenuity of humanity is to reject the existence of humanity; to stifle them behind the watchful eye of the “other” is simply alien to him.

“Oh, yes, Saber. Are such conditions amicable to yourself? If they are not perhaps there would be a counteroffer you would like to put forward? I will, of course, ignore such an offer. Allowing for the festering of the inhuman is something I cannot abide by. This little game can continue another time. Though that does not mean I have the right to cut your fun short. Act as you may, and so shall I.”

Kesi stood toward the centre of the room, in a position to be able to see as much of the room as possible, and to be visible herself. Her costume was airy, and she was thankful that the grail had not been stolen to some godforsaken country in the north. It was a costume she enjoyed wearing, a little eccentricity that was not out of place in the world of Magi.

As the child finished his piece, Kesi held her tongue as the enormous, muscled man first said his piece. A strange one, to be sure, and certainly one to be wary of. Though he seemed to be in his own world, that sort of thing wasn’t uncommon for those in this kind of situation. Still, he said nothing she could find any fault with, and she found herself nodding along with him, glad to be on the same ‘team’.

After he concluded, she began to speak. If he wanted to argue with his Servant, they had the ability to do that privately. “Yes, yes, an alliance against the actual threat here is certainly our best option,” Kesi said, a note of annoyance in her voice. Perhaps it was irritation at a child seeming to take the lead of the group, or perhaps the conclusion was so forgone to her that even discussing it felt like a waste of time.

“Myself and Shielder shall be taking charge of the defence, naturally. Whether they’ll actually be foolish enough to attack directly is another matter entirely.” She spoke curtly, a faint hint of an accent in her voice that was difficult to place. “But each of us pursuing individual tactics would be the height of foolishness. Our enemies are numerous, so we should act as one.” With a voice of absolute confidence, it seemed she was taking control of the conversation.

The colony succeeds because it acts as a single being. No individual is too important to be sacrificed if necessary, even the queen. It was one of the lessons even humans had learned completely from nature. Those who do not cooperate will surely be killed by those who do.

And the first step of that...

“The first matter of business will be to ensure all of our Servant’s identities and capabilities are shared. I would ask the same of the Magi here, but such a thing would be gauche, and much more difficult a conversation.” She paused, offering the space for another to volunteer that information first. Though she didn’t offer her own Servant’s abilities. Perhaps that was simply because she expected the others to have pieced it together from the information given, or perhaps it was an offer for her own Servant to talk. Perhaps it, too, was a test to see which Servants or Masters were most eager for cooperation.

It had not been long since he had been summoned.

Yet, already he saw that the state of things were not so dissimilar to the events and campaigns of his life.

A great enemy that the world should rally against, yet politics and desires flared. The focuses of honeyed-tongued politicians and lords aimed not towards their duties and their true difficulties, but instead on more meaningless squabbles that came with the assumptions that they needed not worry about their duties.

No, in a way it was shirking it wasn't it?

It was a unpleasant night that brayed for blood. He allowed a voice to form in his head, one that gaggled and demanded judgement. It was a voice with little sway, to be truthful. However to give it word and allow it audience helped to drown out the unpleasantness of what surrounded him... Yes, it was much easier to let such things drown out the things around him. There was no reason to disappoint those who expected and demanded the Devil, no?

If man who was around him would show gross and veiled, snake-like conduct like the one that slithered through paradise and brought a tainted fall from the garden. Then he would become the Dracul, the dragonic devil to bring forth the judgement of God. No man could be so brutal, no man could defy the great Sultan so. He must be a monster, evil in the guise of man.

Then what were they? who played at being made in the image of he who was holy and loving?

What was a man if they were a loveless beast?

Ah...

But even a pious man could not love alone. Love required people to gather together. Love god with each other, love each other with the blessing of god.

He was bereft of love...

"I shall be visiting the lands of the infidels and those who have transgressed with their offense towards us. Do not fret master, I will of course return."
After all his Battle Continuation skill that was born of his battles and legend was one that ensured that even if he was struck down by wounds that would fell even great legends that he would claw his way back home...

Yes, it was a promise, tinged in blood.

"It is fine if I lay claim to their lands? yes? I'm afraid I lack a flag so it shall have to be with stakes."

And so he left, making for the lands of the faction of Purple. The blood-hungering knight, the vampire Dracul. Ah, what sort of depraved monsters would he be able to impale in the name of the lord?

@HiddenBlue




Well, it was much too potentially organized to be as fun as it could be. But the fact that it was one "grand" group facing down the world, and a vastly superior host in terms of numbers...

Even if they were to hold one that could even reach the rank of Grand as per the organization and structure of the western political body, or have a host of heroes on the level of the Saber of Black...

No, they would not last very long he felt. He didn't need his eyes to see that. So it would only do to see what they were like before it was too late.

"Rider, shall we go? There's an adventure to be had."
He smiled under his mask.

"A legend to forge, oh hero."
More importantly.. how would his hero, the center of glory and the embodiment of rot fare and feel of all this?

The future was hazy in Greece, holding a lack of clarity that he had never encountered in his life before. However, his eyes were still something to not underestimate. His sight was grand, he could see the world and the heavens and the the imperceptible seafoam that others felt time was, was akin to a well-built and familiar concrete road to his senses.

There was nothing fleeting about the past, nothing uncertain about the future. Even if it shifted again and again and again, rolling like a kaldeioscope it still fell within order.

A infinite amount of futures between 0 and 1 still was limited by what laid between 0 and 1. To determine the future was to to simply decide what shape that order should take. In that he was supreme.. yes.. supreme and unchallenged, until he met that one current colleague.

Of course working together even they could deal with the haze and uncertainty that plagued them with the existence of heroes.

So he would call even as he walked away. He would talk.

It was very interesting after all, and that was what he craved.

Order, and the luxury of being the only one to truly understand it so he in turn could know that he alone in heaven was the blessed, chaotic one.

Ah, let us be entertained.

Well, this was an eclectic group of magus. Kaden found himself with this ragtag crew of magus that was being led by that Palaiologos boy, among them a scantily clad Egyptian woman and a muscular man that blinded himself with a leather strap that had what the professor assumed to be a familiar taking residence in his shadow. Of course there was plenty of talking, mainly about alliances, tactics, and agreeing with what they had already known and yet, they also seemed to be quite eager to rush into decisions.

Like an old man weary of the impatience of those with youth, he finally threw his hat in the ring."Youngsters these days, always rushing into things." Kaden said in response to that woman simply brushing over the discussion of alliances with someone as untrustworthy as Darnic. Obviously she was trying to take control of the conversation when this was supposed to be an exchange of ideas.

"While I do not completely disagree that we should request a truce with Darnic, we must remember that he is a dog that bites at the hand that feeds him. Treachery is part of his nature and I dare say that it would not be out of the realm of possibility that he is scheming to betray us already if we offer a truce. We would always have to watch our backs so I ask if his aid outweighs the risk. This also why we must work together instead of individually." Out of everyone on the Red Team, Kaden was probably one of, if not the only one who had experience with that devil. Daric was a first-rate swindler that had ruined the lives of many who stood in his way and would do it all again happily if it meant getting what he wanted.

The lecturer glanced over to his servant beside him to see if he had been paying attention to the meeting. Of course, he would only ask of his servant to share who he was if his servant were on the same page mainly due to respect to the power and legend that is the king right by his side. "Archer can introduce himself if he wishes, but I am Kaden Trask, a lecturer at the Clock Tower. I am primarily an Alchemist and produce artificial pseudo-dragons. I am capable of using other spells besides Alchemy and have the ability to use three elemental magics."

He gave them something to work with so hopefully now that would encourage everyone else to give away their own information. Of course they were free to do what they want, but without cooperation they would not last long against the other factions.

Ismael had leaned upon anything he could find near him, as once he does his body almost melded with the wall because of how relaxed he was. he was here with Lancer, yet he normally let him do as he pleases, so if he was near him or not didn't matter to Ismael. All Ismael was worried about right now listened to each person talk.

The talks were simple: Why were they there, alliances, and 'tactics'. Ismael wasn't one to believe tactics existed with mages, it was mostly directed chaos. He has seen multiple people pull something akin to tactics off, but he would call those people exceptions to the rule rather than the retort.

Ismael noticed the group they were forming, a young boy who seemed to try and take reigns immediately. An attractive Egyptian woman who had seemed to suggest cooperation but gave nothing towards it, even if it was a simple explanation. A muscular man that blinded himself with a leather band as what seemed to have a familiar talking to him...in his shadow? And then finally a professor who seemed to have quite the head on his shoulders.

The older gentleman seemed to be quite thoughtful, taking a close inspection and letting his thoughts be known in full. He brought up a fair point, if the enemy leader is a man who schemes often, he might try to take both of us out in one fell swoop. And in the same vein of reasoning, they tied into the same fact that everyone will need to work together well even if they weren't to make a truce. Out of everyone so far Ismael thinks the gentleman had made quite a good impression.

As now was the time Ismael decided to speak, he lifted himself off of the wall and stepped forward, as he let his full height be seen. He stood at a tall 6'4, a large strong build, as he said goes over to Kaden and extends his hand and says, "Hello, it's good to meet you Mr.Trask, my name is Ismael Helstein, I'm a Freelancer. My focus is on many things, but what I focus on the most is fighting Mages. I use Material Transmutation Magecraft and firearms. Oh and I also have 2 elements". Ismael tossed a smile to Kaden even if he shook his hand or not.

Ismael then started to turn and clear his voice as his voice came out clear and powerful, "I agree with Mr.Trask here, we do need to weigh the options of this truce. We would be taking out a powerful opponent quickly, but that could put us at a considerable disadvantage."

Ismael gestured to all as he takes a position next to Kaden, using not only his own Charisma but also the notoriety Kaden might bring to help send home the idea, "After all if we were to all go, we would be showing our hand with our Servants. They would as well, but it might also play into their hand as we could find ourselves in a bad place, as our base is literally a wall." As Ismael tosses a gesture to the wall they are here to use as their base while he continues.

"If we were to team up, our common enemy would be taken out more quickly, but we could also find ourselves at the end of a trap we can't get out of. Honestly, I don't think it will be worth it, we all will still see them as a threat, so they wouldn't be able to risk-taking us out. Us being here will still keep the Philosophers under control, as they would be worried about two groups of Servants instead of just one group." As Ismael gestures to everyone as he continues to speak.

"We are in an advantageous position, we could have the strongest defense out of the 3 parties. A non-aggression pact for a bit of time is our best option with Yggdmillenia. Neither of our groups will mess with the other, as we both dedicate some of our resources to attacking the Philosophers, but we do not work with each other. If we were to fight with each other against the Philosophers, we would be giving up our best asset to give Yggdmillenia the chance to leave us high and dry if we overextend, or backstab us as we might not leave enough to defend ourselves from the rear.". Ismael was saying this as he moved around, constantly changing who he had eye contact with, always making sure people were engaging in with what he was saying.

"With the non-aggression pact, we dedicate smaller amounts of resources to attack, using summons and other things to know what the Philosophers are up to and maybe putting a damper on their plans. During this time we dedicate the rest of our resources to fortifying our base. Making sure that later on, we are able to put more focus upon other ventures, knowing they will be unable to get to us through this wall. And maybe before getting a little too ahead of ourselves...getting a shower up..." As Ismael starts looking around realizing that they don't even have a toilet, "Maybe a toilet before that".

@Yukitamas

This was his big chance.

That was the only recurring thought in Rider’s mind during the time they had spent preparing for the start of this mess. Sure, the scope of this war was a tad too large for his comfort, and he wasn’t quite in his prime, but he would make it work out somehow.

That was how he always did it back in the day, so he would make sure to do it again.

No matter what, he had to keep telling himself that. Otherwise he would sink again into a poor mood and lose sight of what he had to do. He didn’t want either his master or -even worse- the nagger to start worrying about him, so it was best to avoid that.
"Rider, shall we go? There's an adventure to be had. A legend to forge, oh hero.”

So when his Master asked him a question, he stopped for a second to think despite the answer being too obvious. The goggles and mask his master wore made it hard to read the magus (curse user? seer? witch!?) at times. Was this strange man from the east being sarcastic, or truthful? There was no real way to know.

But in the end Rider didn’t care much. Some in his old crew had been like that, often moody and hard to read, but their actions had shown their worth and trust. It would be the same with this seer who would become the first member of his new crew.

So the servant flashed his brightest grin and responded, “Of course, we can’t fail as long as I am in the lead!”

His unkept beard, his worn armor and the shadows under his eyes probably didn’t inspire much confidence. But his smile was still as radiant as it had been back in the old days, so it would have to do. It always did.

After all, this was his big chance.

How odd.

How very odd.

He had imagined grandeur, and yet many of those in front of him were lacking. Impure, improper ingredients, already so close to their spoilage date- were they aware of their own status? If the cow knew of its own grade, would it know to weep? A ridiculous question. After all, that is the duty of the artisan. Nothing less, and nothing more. Especially that man who had addressed them. Practically pure in his impurity. A rot so deep it had become firm. A nonsensical melting pot, fondue without balance. Obscene, absurd, obstructive.

At least some of them had value, with that said. Two of them, unripe fruits. Three of them, ready to be harvested. Two of them, matured through their own means. And then there was the matter of his partner- or rather, that thing which hung around him. Yes, this was undoubtedly not a waste. These ingredients would languish without a conductor to shape them, and so shape them he would. For now, though-

"Fya, in a manner of speaking, yes! While both ourselves and 'Red' are human, 'Purple' is something that opposes humanity- joining hands to grind them into meal is obvious! But! It's not as if 'Red' is fool enough to take it as a permanent arrangement. Once the common enemy is processed down, our formal conflict will resume! They know this as well as we do. We have no reason to feign otherwise! This is a relationship! Of! Convenience! Where backstabbing before the enemy is dead will only harm us both, but where we will be at each other's throats the moment the enemy is dead! Sublime simplicity!"

Rising up as he spoke, the magus' hands shot out in front of himself as he spoke, gesticulating wildly, like a conductor managing some unseen orchestra.

"But! That is for you geniuses of massacre to manage, as I! Have! Priorities! My partner requires my work, so do not disturb me, unless it is to provide ingredients for my craft! Understood? Understood!"

With such a dialog, one might assume Antonio to take his leave of the meeting at this time. This is not what occurred.

Instead, he nodded to himself, before slipping down out of his chair, and moving under the table. Sitting on the floor, out of sight.

This was going to be a long day.

“Oya? Oya oya?”

He stares incredulously towards the female Master. Well, not exactly stared. It appeared that even with his eyes bound by leather, he was able to move his head sharply towards Kesi, staring incredulously at the woman.

There is no malice in his stare. There is no discernible intent. Nothing was there. And for a moment, one might assume that this man would not say anything further, though surely to the person who his “eye” had caught the interest of, this might be somewhat awkward. However, before another word could be spoken, Clarenzio spoke once again in a tone, not unlike his friendly demeanor previously.

“Of course. The names of the past mean very little to me in the grand scheme of things. History is history, and fiction is fiction. Therefore, such information should be freely shared, correct?”

Strangely enough, they had agreed with them. Information should be shared between two individuals who were to work together. If they were to be working as a team, of course, in the end, it would make sense they would need to provide their strengths, and more importantly, their shortcomings if they wished to strategize at maximum capacity.

Clarenzio looks deep in thought once more, before continuing.

“There is no need to discuss the names of our Servants, however. Such information spread between us surely would result if even one of us were to be captured, or dare I say, turncoat, our team will surely crumble. Names are simply tags given to others in an attempt to differentiate them from what persona is presented, is it not? In the war against Servants, information can lead one to victory or ruin. I doubt there is any confusion about that. Given what our enemies are, I cannot say I’d wish to grant others the identity of my Servant or the extent of my Magecraft, and I would wish you not to inform me of such information as well. One could never be sure what liabilities exist within the confines of mercenaries, no? I would imagine you would be able to obtain information on myself should you look for it. Though, if you must for such a label, call me Clarenzio, and my Servant, the Saber of Red. Not the greatest solution, though one all the same.”

Clarenzio seemed to lack any display of emotions during his conversation, aside from the slight smirk that had formed before any of his allies had begun to speak. The sort of speech, elegant in its design, was direct and to the point.

After all, he would save humanity, even if they would not.

“Though I must say, I do not disagree with the sentiment for trusting others on one’s own side. Please, don’t hold my worries against me. Our goals are aligned, and therefore, I see no issue with granting my assistance to you in this case. The victory of humans is something we are very serious about. You have our word on that.”

Not a trace of doubt in his voice, Clarenzio at least on value seems truthful about his intentions. However, given the sort of mindset someone like Clarenzio has, one would not be able to tell their intent sometimes.

“Though I must say, I do not believe that my Servant specializes in the defensive. I am sure of my ability to hold my own in a fight, though if our strategy involves us playing solely defense, I believe we will be playing into the trap of the inhuman, and our pact with the Yggdmillenia will surely falter if we are to think such as. A pact is built on the idea two individuals can gain more from others than from themselves. However, when a pact is not honored, both parties no longer hold an obligation to one another.”

Clarenzio seems to be speaking towards the more aged individual when he speaks this time. Though he speaks more generally towards the group, his eyes seem to have focused towards a neutral position, staring in front of himself; staring towards the great nothing. His eyes were no longer able to provide sensory information, though the residual of such remained. If there were diagrams or anything of the like, such would be useless. Though the “Eye within his mind” gave him insight into the predisposition of the soul. A binary existence that simply surveyed its surroundings, judging those before him.

“I doubt that our opponents are, well, forgive me for saying this, but idiotic enough to allow for the destruction of humanity to take place. In the event they are, I shall see them as nothing but the enemy, and our alliance shall fall apart on that principle alone. Darnic, while his snake-like attributes should not be left unsaid, is a mage of some renown. Mages will never let go of their pursuit, even though we find such to be trivial.”

Once again, Clarenzio seems to imply a “second” individual he was projecting his thoughts to, though to the others, such an individual likely didn’t exist. Valli is the fool who leads the blind. Towards their destruction, or towards their salvation. Such distinctions were not made to this creature who wished to “save” lives. So long as Clarenzio wished to “ascend himself” to take this goal upon himself, Valli would follow him. That was their “pact”, after all.

"We don’t need these chumps. You have a bad choice in friends, you know that? I'm sure they will slow you down and before you know it, you will be begging me to help you again. ”

---Though that does not prevent him from providing his opinion on the matter to the ‘ears’ of Clarenzio. Though Clarenzio minded such words not. His mind was focused on salvation, and Valli was simply the method towards that. His "shadow" existed to shoulder the imperfections of the Saint. Though perhaps, in some ways, that made Valli more "human" than someone who aspired towards this "perfection".

Should he feel slighted?

His Master had talked over him, and had made it perfectly clear that his thoughts on the matter were of little importance compared to what he felt was the proper course of action in these circumstances.

To some heroes, that would have certainly been grounds for rebellion. Yet…

Saber smiled kindly at the declarations without batting an eye. It helped that he had been lucky in finding a Master that at least spoke sense.

“It is perfectly fine by me,” He said simply. “The pests over at Purple are simply unsightly. Slaughtering them promptly so that they do not pollute anything else with their presence seems like a wise course of action.”

Not to mention, what would he do if his wish was granted and these creatures were still around, staining the majesty of his friend and emperor with their presence? His ultimate reception deserved to be heralded by nothing less than complete, absolute victory.

So long as their presence stained this world, it would be far too removed from such an ideal. This was not acceptable.

"I can offer expertise in mobilizing and leading troops, but I'm afraid that this "me" you see before you is more uniquely suited to fights between individuals. Perhaps in a different class...ah, well, no use crying over it. However, I would like to apologize for one thing: I'm more of an offensive fighter than a defensive one, so I believe I shall serve better by searching for our enemies and confronting them."

Despite his words, he did not look all that regretful. But it was just polite to phrase it that way.

“With regards to a truce with those of Black, it should prove fruitful, I suspect. Ultimately, we face enemies of humanity — few heroes would refuse that sort of calling as a matter of principle alone, and it shall also grant us an opportunity to observe them.”

He would usually advise to keep cards close to their chest, but ultimately that was a rather self-evident observation and the possibility of doing so depended entirely on the strength of their opposition. However—

“The most important thing to remember is that our alliance will not last past Purple’s demise, so we should be ready to defend ourselves and kill them once that happens and they've outlived their use.”

His expression had not shifted the slightest bit from his confident gaze and smile. Even as he spoke about killing the people they would join forces with, his voice carried not even the slightest bit of hesitation.

[@red team lads]

As the future Crown Princess of Norway, one would expect the young princess to remain in her home country and tackle the affairs of the state even if it was a constitutional monarchy where the king didn’t get into politics often. Lovise had been groomed from day one of her birth to be able to make the decisions of a world leader should her father become king at some point when her grandfather abdicated. It did not look like Harald V would be leaving office anytime soon even if he was pretty old for being the King of Norway.

Her prowess with Runecraft started from the generations of Norwegian monarchs that were able to have a sort of good connection with the Norse god, Odin. Hence, the teenage royal arrived to Greece with her two raven familiars perched on each shoulder. She was expected to meet up with Daniel Pailologos at the Hexamillion Wall which was easy enough to spot as a World Heritage site. Combined with her studies at the Clock Tower, she was a little proud of her lineage being the main factor of having a little sway into politics if need be.

When she spotted the young man with several other people talking with what she assumed was strategy, the Norwegian royal would rush on over to greet him in Norwegian accented English. “Hello, hello! I apologize for being late!” She would add in her own introduction with a polite curtsy to Daniel and the other Masters. “And excuse my manners, I have not introduced myself properly. My name is Lovise, Princess of the Kingdom of Norway or future heir to the throne once my dear grandfather steps down as my father would take his place.”

@Red Team people

This team was a strange lot. But Judah had his own experience with strange families, of brothers, sisters, cousins and nephews that constituted a ‘nation’ unto themselves. It was only natural, then, that he had found himself here, among that group.

Whether this one’s leader was worthy of the name remained to be seen.

The discussions of tactics and magecraft flowed past him. Naturally, the monsters must be exterminated before any proper battle could begin. There needed to be little discussion of that.

Magecraft was for the magi. He had no interest in it. All that business of messing around with elements, and mana, and golems and the like, all seemed so unnecessary. Perhaps it was a heresy. But that was not his judgment to make. His dominion was over matters of earth, and man. Mages seemed beyond that, somehow. Concerned with their own private worlds. It was a matter for those of heaven to determine.

Though, if it was simply a case of distribution of blessings, birthrights, and the like - he could certainly understand that. The striving for perfection, refinement of their craft across generations - he could understand that too, though it differed from his attempts at perfection of the body.

“Well, good luck with all that, Master.” He said, scratching at his head as he watched the odd man slide under the table. “Call me back later if you need anything more. But right now, I’m heading out. There’s monsters to be killed, after all.” With that, he confidently strode from the room, brooking no argument to stay.

He began to follow the first Servant to leave, the one who talked of conquest and stakes

“Oi, spikey!” He said in a voice a little too loud and clear to belong to an Assassin. “I’m coming along. Leave a few for me, alright?” His voice was confident, but there was just a tinge of worry to it. This team was a family, of sorts, and it wouldn’t do to have a brother run off alone and get himself killed.

Not for a moment did Judah worry that heading off in a group of only two would be dangerous, though.

Lancer + Rider + Assassin of Black versus Rider + Assassin of Purple

What did the Philosopher Kings believe, and how was that relevant to this current conflict?

The first article of their belief was that Mystery must be preserved through offensive action - By keeping the masses ignorant and curtailing their advancement, their understanding. If it meant sending the Santa Maria, the flying ship and Noble Phantasm of Rider of Purple, to rain down a fine mist composed of smallpox serum across towns and villages south of Patras, in order to weaken the population's belief in the achievements of science once the disease had incubated and broken out, it was a small price to pay to establish the natural hierarchy of Magecraft users over Mortals.

And that leads us to the second article of their belief: That Hierarchy is the pathway to reaching the Root, and that Tyranny and the crushing of one's inferiors by sacrificing them to supernatural symbols of cosmic oppression, was how one slowly crawled their way up the cosmic food chain and fused with the Root, which is the 'Ultimate Tyrant' due to being highest on the metaphysical pyramid. And so upon sighting Lancer of Black making his way south, Rider of Purple, with a voice like thunder, shouted from his ship:

"Servant of Yggdmillenia, Anastasios of the Philosopher Kings bids you heed these words - We have sown the smallpox plague in the villages south of your Headquarters, a precursor of future calamities thrown at this decadent world we live in. We do this to teach those ungifted with supernatural power, those complacent sheep who nevertheless demand rule over the world, that their place is to be slaves to those who are gifted with rulership. For Kingship and Tyranny are the same steps up the ladder of Ascension, so says Anastasios Palaiologos, he who crawls up the top of the Pyramid of Steel and Skulls."

He then continued, "Now you have a choice - Fly up to where we are, fight us where we are strong, and thus be taught your place as well, or alert your Master Darnic to our actions and thus force him to spend valuable resources healing those we have infected, and risking the secrecy of Magecraft itself. Or do both and risk utter failure!"

As the flying ship moved to soar above Lancer and Assassin of Black, one can see the silhouettes of a crew, a crew not of humans, but of Oni Mixed-Bloods and Vampires, loading the vessel's cannons to fire when ready, and a small, light, female figure giving commands to them...

@SSW@Yukitamas@HiddenBlue

@HiddenBlue @Sakaki Chizuru

Bzzt..

Bzzt...

Bzzt...

The device that was perhaps the symbol of the modern age, of easily proliferated information and communication. The mobile phone, shook and rang, letting out its cry and alert in service to its owner.

She certainly didn't need to look to know who it was from, nor he to hear the sudden interruption of the inquistive, almost forceful ringing that violated the quiet that was in one of the workshops of the Black Tree's land.



"Good moooorning-" came the strangely cheery voice of the other middle-easterner among their camp. The Persian cursemaker "-Heartthrob~" Ah there came the incessant nickname he had picked for her. It was something he had called her before they even had a chance to exchange names.

For better or worse, even before they were chosen as masters (an inevitability both of them knew clearly...) he had managed to, make himself memorable compared to the scores of magi Yggdmillenia, and sometimes he called to annoy her.

Although in this case he knew that she'd pick up. She knew he'd call.

It was very convenient. He could annoy her before he even did anything at all. Truly, there was no one else to wet his appetite like her around. Well, perhaps there would be in this war, facing down both Purple and Red... but he wouldn't raise his hopes too much. Plus they'd have to compete with the "familiarity" he was starting to grow after all.

In any case...

"Do you know what the morning bird sings so vibrantly, and annoys modern man with its symphony even as they desire a respite from their disorganized and unnatural ways? It's quite simple really. In any case, it does well to hear fresh news doesn't it? I'm sure you would prefer the usual transference of information but I shall tell you this directly with my voice as well."

He didn't need to look up at the sky for one of the mirrors rotating in his eyes to reflect the heavens and the ship sailing through it. Instead he looked over to Rider and raised his finger in a wagging motion, urging him to wait for him to finish his business.

"It seems that they've discovered my intrusion, although they seem more focused on our dear lord's servant... So I'm afraid that I'll slip away from this boring matter. Although I'll be aware enough of it nonetheless, as will you of course soon enough. It appears they are doing something quite naughty however. It isn't any of my concern, but it might effect some of the locals who do not have a proper fortune or providence. They're working with something quite old fashioned and yet normal... Smallpox seeded in the villages apparently, how quaint, no? Heartthrob?"

He let out an exaggerated sigh and began to march forth again, away from the inevitable conflict while beckoning Rider to follow.

"Still, if you would like I could go to some of the villages that would be a starting nexus point and vector, burn away the impurities and overturn the destiny of those wrapped up in their little game. Still, Smallpox, I'm sure that is a clue for you to utilize my dear. The first puzzle piece. Do you think it is something of one of their colleagues and a hobby, or is it an interest of one of their servants?"

Speaking of servants.. He slightly lifted the phone away from his face.

"Rider, I do not think there is much worth in us sticking around. But if you really do wish..."
he suddenly leaned backwards, bending his back and hanging in a L shape above the ground.

"I do not mind if you add to this show, as long as of course you do not reveal much about yourself, or get all that hurt. But I doubt I need to ask that of you. I'd rather the actor (demon) not take the stage yet either. So you'll fight by yourself... or your allies.

Either that or we can find a more proper stage for your debut."



@SSW

Ah blood, blood.. The need for blood. No it was not a need but a duty was it? A duty overwhelming, shackling and yet loving. His responsibility was to the land, his responsibility was to the lord. Such things must be slain, and erased.

He looked towards Assassin who he understood as a holy man as recognized by the Lord.

"You know what we must do, correct? Nay, what we are blessed to be able to do of course. To be able to indulge in the task is what separates man from beast perhaps, and yet staring up I do not see many men, nor beast. Having lost the love of a man, having lost the truth of a beast... what lies is something sad isn't it?"

His spear pointed up towards that boat.

"I understand they mean to spread a plague, but that matters not. What matters is that they have exposed themselves out of their fortress, and they may be struck down as invaders in their own land. Hah!" He barked out in amusement before kneeling down. "As an Assassin you may of course arrive to their flying ship in safety in astral form but... If I may ask your hand to arrive there in a timely fashion with your blessing."

Iskandar stands tall next to Daniel, he watched as the boy give his little talk. Iskandar was there acting as a passive charismatic figure, and Daniel is taking advantage of that. He had been interested in who would be taking initiative. Daniel, seemed to have been the one who was most ahead in who was going to be talking first, for he was the one to set up the situation to talk in.

However, this far from satisfied Iskandar. He was hoping for something more, Daniel seemed to have not set up anything else, who he was, what he does, or even any reason why he should lead them! Honestly it made him more like a messenger than anything else. Iskandar was much hoping to see a real powerful display, boasting, anything! Honestly, it might have seemed that if Daniel was to do be a leader like he wanted, he would be out of convenience. Sure he might have more chances, but first impressions are the most important!

Once Daniel finished, Iskandar waited for others to speak. As the person to speak almost immediately was a strange man. One who has his eyes covered, may it be from an injury or an illness. It might however be on purpose, as the man seems to speak in such a way that shows off all of his eccentricity. He spoke in a grandeous manner and seemed to even be in his own world, all the while some creature is hiding within his shadow speaking to him.

The next was a gorgeous woman, she seemed to have dressed in such a like a Pharoah, he manner of speaking quite different from as he remembers, yet she seemed well enough. He deduction similar to the Blind man.

Then soon to speak was a Philosopher! Wait, in this age it seems they call themselves professors. He seemed quite minded on his ideas. He seemed to have a good bit of knowledge upon who they are dealing with and possess the idea of is the worth of alliance great enough to deal with a snake. Iskandar found this idea simple, no. What you cannot do with your own hands should not fall to the enemy of your enemy, rather to those who ally themselves with you. And this is no such situation.

The man who agreed with the assessment Iskandar had was quite interesting. He held himself with enough understanding to try and pull people away, yet seemd to not sway enough as the man with the blind fold seemed to counter with the idea that they themselves will then just deal with it. After all, they only had one defensive Servant.

Iskandar was about to speak maybe in the hope to get others to speak of their ideas, yet immediately a new person entered the fray. As a Servant seemed to put his own idea in, as it to was the same as the others. Fight and kill Purple quickly before turning quickly upon the group they just allied themselves to. Iskandar didn't know what was better as of yet, it is true Purple must be eliminated, yet, it seemed that they are missing one key facet...

And then another joined into the conversation before Iskandar could even have time to think!! Oh, it was that young girl with His Master. She seemed to have been running late, he goes over and gives her a big smile and a jaunty laugh as he goes over and bows as Iskandar says to her, "Ah, Princess Lovise, it is wonderful to see you again".

As now was the time to speak, Iskandar took in a breath as he began to speak as he takes his fist and slams it into his chest, "I am the Rider under the disposal of Daniel. I am Iskandsr the Legendary King of Conquerors!".

Iskandar began to wait a moment seeing the reactions as he continued with a commanding voice, "I am in agreeance of this Truce. To squash the enemy as they are should be swift. And to defeat the enemies very plan to defeat us should be dashed with simple and efficient power".

"Simple and efficent. Being hit from 2 sides will take out the Purple team with no time, then during this we abolish the Black team, in one simple and crushing blow".

“How unsightly…” Judah muttered at the enemy’s arrogant proclamation. One who crawled on a pyramid of skulls? Such a person should be crawling on the ground, broken beneath his fists.

He glanced up at the ship, scrutinising it as much as possible. But it was of little use. He had little experience with those who travelled the high seas, and cared little for them. Whether they were pirate or admiral, explorer or merchant, it made no real difference.

“A blessing indeed,” He mused at his companion’s own considerations. “Though is it a blessing to be able to fight our foes and put a stop to their efforts, or simply to be able to indulge in the thrill of the fight? Ah, if I were a younger man…”

He paused for a moment, taking a quiet prayer and a long breath. “They who are put to death for The Lord’s sake shall awake to life beyond. Beast or Man, loveless or truthless, they shall know the light of The Lord.”

Suddenly, his eyes opened in a wild stare, and his mouth split into a toothy grin. “Fight you at your strongest?” Came Assassin’s response. His voice boomed as loud as his enemy’s, sound flowing like wind across the ground, rustling through the trees and grass. He nodded towards his kneeling companion, and solidly grabbed one of the less spiked parts of his armour.



With a single swift motion, the armoured man beside him was flung into the sky, like a missile directed at the enemy’s ship.

Judah would follow himself in short order, but not so dramatically. It wouldn’t do to crash right into his ally, after all. Let the first volley be his.

@Yukitamas

Daniel Palaiologos

"Lovise!" Daniel waved hi at the arrival of his friend, saying, "I'm glad to see you, Your Highness!"

More confident now, the feelings of humiliation fading as he faced the group he was supposed to lead, the boy introduced himself, saying, "My name is Daniel Palaiologos, of the Clock Tower. I brought in the Palaiologoi as a family and their lands and holdings into the Magus' Association's fold when my grandfather, who is now leading the so-called Philosopher Kings, revealed his treachery to Humanity. This also means I am the rightful Second Owner of all of Greece's magical territory and my Grandfather has usurped my right. But my claim to a leading role within this team isn't based on my 'rightful ownership', but rather on the fact that I can provide you guys with information on the Purple Faction."

Daniel sighs, "Long ago before I joined the Clock Tower, Grandfather fed me with lies about how the Magus' Association were 'Magic Nazis' who worshipped Cosmic Embodiments of Supernatural Tyranny and how their goals were to sacrifice 'Normal Humanity' for their 'Ascension', their fusion with The Root. This was false, but it rang true to me because it was a coherent creed. However, it turned out to be their creed, not the Clock Tower's - It was their beliefs and not my future faction's. And so helping you against him is not just a family spat: It is also an attempt at redemption in the eyes of the Magus' Association and all of Humanity."

He paused, "Now, useful information - The Dead Apostle Ancestor in the Philosopher Kings' Ranks is an Apocryphal one: The Thirty-First when there should only be Twenty-Nine. This Dead Apostle Ancestor, one of the earliest recruits into their group, is Oyuki, a former innkeeper with an otherworldly beauty who was accused of murdering travelers, which somehow turned her into the source of the legends of the Yuki-Onna and also a Vampire without a parent. Or so I was told back when Grandfather was manipulating me. Nevertheless, she can drain Mana from people through touch - That's something I have seen for myself. Oh, and she's also a potential Master Candidate, which is bad as she already has Noble Phantasms of her own."

Continuing after another pause, Daniel then said, "Another senior lieutenant of my Grandfather is one Mikagami Shikiya, a Mixed-Blood Incubus who can copy any of a Magus' abilities by drinking an ounce of their blood, and also access their memories and emotions. He is probably also a Master. Now, as for the subject of Darnic..."

He took a deep breath and said, "Mr. Helstein, Mr. Trask, the both of you are right - We should conduct a limited Non-Aggression Pact with Darnic while conserving our forces and resources for the future confrontation with him or my Grandfather. Let the two factions of foes fight, but if Darnic sends someone to seal a pact with us, we should treat them as hospitably as possible in order to gain a potential defector or at least loosen some lips..."

@Th3King0fChaos@SkyHresvelg@Unlucker@Phonic@hatakekuro@SSW

@Yukitamas

While his master spoke with his fellow seer on the phone, the Rider of Black contemplated the situation. It was a simple trap. The disease was there to force them to act before this mess escalated too much, but raiding the ship (a Carabela- a Spanish ship- the grail told him) had terrible odds.

Whoever this enemy Rider was, he probably would be at his strongest on his ship. A captain always was. Plus, Jason was sure that the moment the Rider was close to being defeated, an ally would distract them and allow the purple servant to escape. That was what Jason, himself, would do in that sort of situation.

So in the end, what they should do is deal with the cause of the urgency- the toxin itself.

"You are right, there is no point in staying here. A true hero is clever enough to avoid obvious bait.” Then, Rider leaned down, and whispered, “Master, there are several good doctors among the other mages, correct? Let’s find one and get them to deal with this. I am sure this smallpot thing is nothing for these great mages, right?”

Of course, they wouldn’t compare to that great doctor in his old crew, but beggars can’t be choosers. If all failed, he would just show one of his new crewmates how to do it right. If he could deal with the bait fast, while he allowed the others to fight off with the purple Ride for him. Then when that Rider retreated, he would use that chance to ambush the enemy instead! Yes, that was a truly perfect plan that only could come from a genius like him!

Plus saving the city would make him look better to the other servants. He had to present his best foot forward to start recruiting for his new crew.

So with a grin, he pointed towards where their base- the Palaiogos mansion- was. “Master, we will make our proper debut after we deal with this mess. We need to set up a bigger stage that can be worthy of heroes like us. For now, just call the others and we can be there in a flash with my ship!”

He flew, flew as fast as an arrow, piercing the sky like a bullet holding the speed that was worthy of being the Knight of the Spear.

"Bray, oh bray. You shall be the coin to pay the way, and the blood that fills the rivers of hell!"

He scrapped against the side of the boat, grunting out as he bumped into it a bit inelegantly. His low agility parameter meant that he was not as dextrous as one would have hoped... Perhaps another Lancer would have made a well curved arc, or twist like an arrow to pierce into one of the vampires at the side to take their lives.

Instead he kicked ahead and launched himself a second time. For a moment he shone under the light of the heavens, casting the host of the flying ship in his shadow. His white mane fluttered with his tattered cape and he descended like a brutal meteor.

A landing that pierced into a vampire, slamming a stake through his entire body down the middle.

Would he die from this he wondered? He too held some vampiric traits, but these were true monsters rejected by God. If he wouldn't... well.

He flung him off the boat while bringing forth a new spear with his other hand.

He'd hope he was soon enough, surely.

"Lancer of Black. Now scream out that it hurts. Your screams shall be your penance and your death your judgement!"

Assassin reached the ship shortly after his companion, and materialised perched on the prow of the ship. He took a second to scan the ship, selecting his target before leaping into action.

The captain of this ship was the most obvious; standing tall and proud at the ship’s wheel. The owner of the booming voice, the boaster and heretic. Destroying him, and this unsightly ship along with him, would be most satisfying.

Across the rest of the deck, the crew of strange monsters and the little girl who commanded them… Certainly she was suspicious, and those creatures were likely to be dangerous to the others. Still, they were nothing more than small fry to him. The attack they were worthy of -

With a sudden motion, Judah leapt from his perch. With no fanfare of battle, or announcement of his intent to attack, he simply sprang towards the enemy. Perhaps this was the way of an Assassin. Or perhaps he thought his enemy deserved no warning, no words. They would need to impress him first for that.

Plucking a handful of short, stubbly hair from his face with his left hand, he threw them towards the gathered creatures and their leader. From anyone else, this would be nothing but a meaningless gesture of disrespect. But for Judah, this was certainly an ‘attack’. A storm of flechette daggers that flew towards the group, ready to tear through flesh and bone. There was little precision to it, so it could hardly be considered the expert knife-throws of an Assassin. Rather, it was a method of covering fire, pinning them down and forcing them on the defence, giving his teammate an opening.

But with his right hand-

“Angel Jab!” He leapt towards the enemy Rider, fist quickly extending towards the large man’s chest. It was a punch that prioritised speed over power, a dazzlingly swift blow that lacked in power compared to the upper bound of his techniques.

Even so, this was a technique of his father’s that should be enough to take out an angel. A single strike that would be enough to decisively end the battle if the enemy took it fully.