Well at least one of them had some basic manners. Kaden extended his hand and grasped Ismael's for a surprisingly firm handshake that was not befitting for someone of his elderly age and smiled courteously in appreciate that there was someone here that could act professionally among this hodgepodge of egos and philosophies clashing. "My pleasure, Mr. Helstein." The professor warmly said to the 6'4 Goliath of a man who was now taking center stage to give his own thoughts on the matter though it seemed like Ismael shared his sentiments in not trusting the likes of Darnic, even if it meant a hastier destruction of their mutual enemies.

It seemed like this man certainly knew what he was talking about, after all, he was someone who fights Magus on a daily basis instead of being cooped up in his studies such as the professor himself. Everyone else was so preoccupied with the short-term solution that they did not not consider the long-term effects of working together with Black except for himself and Ismael, but he must admit, Kaden did not expect to bring up a non-aggression pact instead of a partnership. This boy really did have a good head on his shoulders.

"I concur with Mr. Helstein's opinion. A non-aggression pact is the best way to keep ourselves safe while ensuring that we do not waste resources if we were betrayed by the Black Faction until the Purple Faction is eliminated. For now we should observe our rivals and fortify our defenses. I wouldn't say no to a shower, maybe a stove to boil a kettle." The elderly man chuckled to himself and glanced around the room to gauge how others would react to this proposition. Of course, the gentleman wearing bondage gear decided to speak up again in his overly wordy manner.

Seems like Clarenzio was not overly keen on the idea of sharing any information about himself or his servant besides his own name. There was being guarded and then there was just being obstinate. "While I understand your concern Mr. Clarenzio, I believe we stand to lose more than we gain if we keep the names of our Servants hidden. Their names carry power and their legends allow us to understand the true powers and capabilities that they possess. Besides, if you're worried about turncoats or squealing then we can put a curse on ourselves to prevent the issue to begin." Of course, that is if they would willingly subject themselves to it in the first place though such a countermeasure could placate the man, and yet he was not satisfied with the matter of Darnic still. Of course he wouldn't, neither Clarenzio and his servant would not be aware of the man's reputation.

"In all do respect, you don't know Darnic like I do. The moment we form an alliance with him is the moment we seal our fates." said Kaden curtly, as if he was trying to get this idea through the blind man's own concrete skull. However, before he could continue speaking, a new member of their party had arrived. Specifically it was the heir to the Norwegian throne, Princess Hildegard. "It is quite alright, we'll catch you up to speed."

While the princess curtsied, speckles of golden light flickered next to her before they took shape of a young, handsome man with tanned skin, jade eyes, and dark brown hair standing next to the young girl. "So this is the war council? Not the worst I've seen." The young man stated with a smirk though despite that calm, snarky attitude there was an aura of madness that he gave off that made it impossible to hide what class he was. Berserker was eyeing all the servants visible, sizing them up despite the fact that they were his allies.

The meeting went on and Daniel gave important info about the Purple Faction and made his decision regarding the Black Faction.

"Very well, I find your decision to be most satisfactory. For now, I believe it is best if I begin my preparations, as should everyone else."

"Well Princess, as much as I'd like to stick around I think it would be best if I patrolled the area. Anyone wanna come with?"

Darnic’s words seemed to be falling on deaf ears. This was, of course, because Io had her airp*ds in. She was currently listening to the music of the “modern” era, which of course meant music from the 90’s. Since she spent her past decade focusing on the 80’s, Io figured it was time to focus on a new era of music to celebrate the dawn of her second decade in the United States.

More importantly, she just hated the sound of Darnic’s voice. The airp*ds could only do so much, so Io began to hum to herself. She was mildly confused how a song about losing one’s spirituality was a hit in 1991, but by this point she had learned that questioning the popularity of things was a pointless exercise.

Once the “leader” of their faction had finished his monologue, Io removed her airp*ds.

“Okay so, I’ll go establish relations with the Red Faction. It is statistically unlikely for anyone present to decline such an offer. Those who are not present do not matt-”

Damn, she wasn’t quick enough to finish that statement before he called. Considering it was an excuse to further avoid the man at the helm of her faction, she would pick up the phone. Io was kind enough to raise a finger at Darnic, signifying a pause of sorts as she answered the phone.

“Yo. You know that song birds don’t spend much time in Vegas, right? Their songs ring hollow against the noise of urban society. There is just too much competition, and a little bird’s song has no innate appeal. Now, would you get on to the status report and stop wasting time.”

She was supposed to hate the nickname, she got that. In fact, when she remembered, she would give a retort to tell him to stop calling her that. Unfortunately, Io really did not care about such a thing. A name serves as one’s identity to others, but identity was already something needless to her.

A primate needed to save the primates, but an individual was not needed to save individuals.

“Smallpox? What a...strange idea. Say, did you know that the smallpox vaccine was the first ever invented. In the year 1793. Who would even use such a trick in an era largely removed from that disease? It would have to be a Servant, right? Why would a Master do something like that?”

And so, the supercomputer known as Io Shesemu Mathoris got to work.

...Actually, it was a really simple procedure. Such a thing was simple for anyone who had lived in the United States for an extended period of time.

“...You don’t know much about the New World, right? There was a myth circulated that many of the explorers who came brought over Smallpox blankets in order to kill off the Native population. The actual event that may have spawned this was a British outpost in the late 18th Century. Regardless of the facts, the belief of the modern age has an effect on those summoned for the Holy Grail. Following me so far?”

She continued to keep her finger up at Darnic, keeping him informed that she was still not going to talk to him.

“As this is the case, the myth can only be applied to certain figures. Namely, explorers from the Age of Exploration and the leader of the Siege of Fort Pitt. We can slim it down even further, as the Servant must be worthy to reach the Heroic Spirit. This would leave us with names like Columbus, Cortez, Pizzaro, de Soto, and de León.”

Them being all hired by Spain was in line with the era, even if the British were the likely origin point of the smallpox blanket myth.

“Within those five, I’m sure you can narrow the rest down. I doubt Purple would summon the latter three. While the last two were brutal, their achievements are not impressive enough to be summoned by a team trying this hard. Pizzaro defeated the largest empire in the Americas, Cortez has his connections to Quetzacoatl, and Columbus was the man who made the Americas a known continent. I’m sure you can figure out who the Servant is between these three. Only someone absolutely heinous would work with Team Purple, but I guess they are all pretty sinful. I believe in you. Well, sorta.”

Not really, but she learned that pretending to believe in people was good for building team morale.

“I’ll have Aldintabruthe head down to your location. I’ll pass him a cure for smallpox and he’ll do...something involving cheese to help the village. If you have any updates, just send me a text. I need to go establish relations with the Red Faction, we’re going to be in a truce with them or something. There should be someone from Atlas amongst their ranks, but it is unlikely they sent anyone super important. Anyway, if we’re done here, lates.”

Seriously... a smallpox outbreak? It was not completely out of her calculations, but the potential chances of that were no miniscule that it might as well have been. At the very least, this Purple Faction was going to be entertaining. After giving the man silence for a few seconds, she hung up her phone.

“Anyway, I’ll be heading out. See ya Darny~!”

Darny seemed to have been the name chosen to upset Darnic. He had a much greater sense of self than she did, so she assumed it would hit much harder.

”Caster, I’ll need you to bring me to where the Red Faction is. According to my calculations I made from scouting data, some should be at the Hexamilion Wall. No individual existences are known, but we will make do.”

On the way to her Servant, Io would pass a vial filled with a liquid over to Aldintabruthe and inform him of the current situation.. The liquid was clearly a magical vaccine to smallpox she engineered out of her own blood. As a world class doctor and an alchemist, creating arguably the most simple vaccine was fairly easy. Where she got the vial, however, was a mystery lost to time.

It appeared that a new person had entered the fray. Perhaps that was not to be unexpected. After all, the seats of the team were not filled yet. There was much to be done. Much to see. And very much to fight.

“I see you have arrived late, …. Lovise, was it? I was merely disagreeing with the choices of the team as a whole, though please, feel free to form a choice of your own. Perhaps I am merely being overly cautious, however, it is a point I surely cannot agree with.”

Clarenzio seems to contemplate a moment, staring blankly upwards with a finger placed on his chin, seemingly deep in contemplation. However, before one is able to question what he was thinking of, he began to ramble once again in his calm inflection that seemed too calm for the conversation at hand.

“Hmm, allow me to ask you this then. Do you believe your poultry curse is strong enough to stand against a moment of time in which the world’s magicks were heavily condensed? Surely, someone of your stature isn’t planning on playing with fire against those mages of the age of gods,... Kaden, no? My expertise is in the realm of such devices(curses). In the event that there is someone on the opposing teams who is able to utilize curses more effectively than I, surely we would not wish to lose ourselves to those devices. Therefore, I ask that my Servant’s name not be made public.”

Clarenzio snaps his position towards Kaden, previously staring into space as he was speaking before he pinpointed a focus somehow with his eyes covered by the strap of leather.

“However, I can attest to his prowess in combat. The strongest class tends to lead to the strongest Servant, is that not right?”

Any Master with even a monochrome of skill would be able to utilize their Master’s Clairvoyance to see that the Saber of Red was a peerless Servant. The Saber class tends to be the most powerful of the class containers, but even so, his read combat stats were much higher than what should be expected of such. A prime Servant of the strongest Class.

“Again, if you wish to share the information of your Servants, that is within your right to do so. I’d simply wish to stay out of this foolish game. After all, even if we are allies now, there are so many wishes one can obtain from the Grail. As soon as the Red Faction is victorious over both black and purple, let us not pretend that we are not going to fight over these wishes.”

Clarenzio was correct. Even if the Grail offered several wishes, it was not as if the Grail would offer 14 wishes for each Servant & Master. From the perspective of the pragmatic individual who had given away much of himself to obtain his power, he could not see a world in which their alliance lasted past the destruction of their current foes. And surely his allies believed the same. It was something that was likely heavy in the room, yet no one wished to bring it up.

“An alliance is never what I suggested. Surely, you’ve misinterpreted me. I have no intention of forming an alliance with the Black Faction. I merely believe that passivity shall simply allow for the Purple Faction to overcome our two Factions in the event they are a more unified group. Perhaps I should state my intention: The destruction of the Purple Faction is a mutual interest for our parties. Lowering the power of the strongest player on the board will allow for the remaining players to resume their fun.”

The purpose of him being in this war. The destruction of the Purple Faction was all he truly cared about. Whether Darnic was successful in his attempt towards obtaining the 「」was not of his concern. He was a mercenary hired by the Mage’s Association due to his association with the Church, and though he was not a proper member, one could consider him almost as if a “sanctioned” Master, even though his methods were rather strange. After all, Stregoneria was a branch of magecraft that was not completely vilified by the Church. Even portions of such were adopted towards Church dogma. Therefore, he was there for a single goal. The absolute destruction of the purple team.

“Humans are beings that burst past the possible to become the impossible. Mages are merely creatures of habit. If Darnic is truly as vile as you say, then all the more reason to assist. If he is still human, if he still holds dear to his heart the Mage’s desire to achieve akashic communion with「」, then our will align. As a fellow magus, I am sure you can understand the desire to achieve that goal; not that I would ever understand such trivialities.”

With a simple turn, he faced the exit of their meeting place. It seemed as if Clarenzio had said his part. The strange Magus (?) was something that even a Clocktower lecturer would find strange. Though the path of a Magus is one that goes against conventions.

And Clarenzio defied those in spades.

“However, I will ask that my considerations are at least considered. I am merely here to save humanity. In the end, so long as our goals align, I see no reason for my path to be any different than your own. I shall make preparations to petrol the area as you speak. I feel as though I am the most suited to do so. Come, Saber. Our presence is required elsewhere.”

A simple command towards his Servant.

However, what was not simple was the way that Clarenzio seemed to glide across the floor as if his feet were being moved through alternative means, his posture not shifting as he holds his hands outward.

Weird flex, but okay.

“Do you have to make a scene everywhere you go, Clarey? Not that I’ll complain about leaving. But still, you know you can just walk out, right?”

[@Red team]

Saber held back the urge to let out a sigh.

He would not pretend he did not hold respect for other heroes, much less one of such standing as Alexander the Great, but his disposition already told him one thing.

Regardless of how much he respected the man and his capabilities as a commander, he was someone who wore his heart on his sleeve, and he could confirm at a glance that he was the sort he’d never be able to get along with even if their objectives were similar.

...well, not that there had ever been a chance for that in the first place. Saber accepted and bent the knee to only one absolute Emperor.

Most importantly, however, was the nature of the magi that surrounded them.

They knew how to kill. Regardless of compunctions with the act and morality, things surely hadn't changed that much from his own time. Comparing them to normal people was comparing wolves to sheep in that regard.

But did they know how to wage war? More importantly, did they know how to wage war in a sufficiently efficient manner?

Treating them like pieces without asking for proper input had been the first mistake. Saber was willing to forgive a mistake, especially one so easily corrected.

Insisting on the same after correction, especially with such a ridiculous condition and considering their circumstances, had been the second.

Saber would not extend a third chance.

“What a grand, intoxicating innocence,” He smiled, instead, sounding for all the world like he was genuine. “But my Master is correct in this regard I’m afraid.”

His smile thinned out. Still present, but ultimately dim and bearing an edge of sadness.

“We must obliterate Purple. This, we agree on. We must also slaughter Black afterward — this, we also agree on. However, even if our alliance with Black to accomplish the first is one of convenience, then what prompts you to think that our own is any different? If there is one difference, it is likely just the fact that we will turn on each other last.”

Without a shred of hesitation, Saber of Red spoke his mind and laid out the situation plainly.

“To give up our names right this instant is not only a security breach waiting to occur, it is also foolishly shortsighted. Today’s comrades are but tomorrow’s enemies, that is all there is to it.”

No, allies of convenience to aid and be aided by if the situation arose was good enough, perhaps the generalities of the skillset to know who would be better suited for what, even though a few assumptions could be made just from the base of the Class. That was the best arrangement and it suited Saber just fine.

He turned on his heel without missing a beat and trailed after his Master, cloak fluttering and falling back into the role of soldier with practiced ease.

“Yes, yes, I know, we have enemies to assess and plans to draft. I’ll handle both of those immediately.”

He said nothing else, because there was truthfully nothing else that needed to be said.

Saber of Red was under no delusions about what it would come to, and despite whatever respect he felt for the other heroes that belonged to this faction, it all came down to a simple truth — everyone had wishes they desired to see become a reality.

And, if it was for the sake of his own wish — his own duty — he would trample and crush all of them without hesitation.

At the very least, he would not attempt to trick them by pretending it would develop in any other way.

Rider and Assassin of Purple

Before Judah can land a hit on Rider of Purple, the boat tilted sharply to the left, hopefully enough to cause the Black Servants to lose their footing... Although the Vampires and Oni Mixed-Bloods were caught off-guard as well, almost falling off the ship. Assassin of Purple, however, kept her poise despite the tilt, and gave a small yawn as the ship righted itself a second later. She then looked at her Black Team counterpart, then the Lancer of Black, before saying her next words with deliberate arrogance and condescension.

"Huh, it seems you won't just fall over and die for us," she taunted, "Well, you ocean devils - No offense, Purple Rider - Have made a grave mistake in fighting a captain on his own ship! Valiant soldiers of the Imperial Army," she addressed the remaining Vampires and Oni Mixed-Bloods, "Charge! Sell your lives for your Soveriegn!"

The Purple Team troops charged with renewed abandon, with the Oni Mixed-Bloods losing themselves to their 'Inversion Impulse', granting them increased strength, control over fire, and telekinesis, the latter which was used to try and fling Lancer and Assassin of Black off the decks. Each Vampire and Oni Mixed-Blood can take up to three blows from a Servant before dying, and if they hit, it would be enough to make a Servant feel pain. And there were nineteen (now eighteen) Vampires and ninteen Oni Mixed-Bloods to face the two Servants. So Assassin of Purple hoped that once all of those had been eliminated, that the two Black Team Servants would at least be winded.

Nevertheless, if by some unfortunate chance, Assassin and Lancer of Black were unscathed... That would not alter their next moves. Once the ship's crew had fallen, Assassin of Purple would look at her Black counterpart and say, "It's TIME for punishment - Manual of Accusation!"

Judah would then find himself falling, falling downwards into a black pit, filled with toxic, acidic poison at the bottom, poison which could overcome even the extraordinary resilience of a Servant. To all outside, however, it all seemed as though he disappeared for a second, sinking into a deep dark hole, before being spat out, hopefully damaged.

As for Lancer of Black, he'd find Rider of Purple tipping over the ship once again, no, not tipping, it was actually doing a barrel roll!

@SSW@Yukitamas

Red Team

Kaden would hear Karna say telepathically from his perch atop the Hexamillion Wall, A blizzard is coming towards us - I've been led to believe its the middle of summer in this region of the world, so it is probably the enemy trying to attack this position.

And true enough, it was, as the other members of the Red Team felt the temperature change from hot to cold, even as what sensory magic they had rang with a silent alarm. Karna would see several figures in the Blizzard, but before he can speak -

"Three-Line Formation!", boomed a voice from south of the wall. And the Archer of Red was struck by three thousand arquebus shots, and even with his armor reducing the damage to a tenth of its original value, those still hurt a little, especially as those arquebus shots benefited from a skill which was especially advantageous against those blessed by Divinity (not that Archer of Purple necessarily knew that). Nevertheless, Karna still stood, his poise unchanged despite being hit.

It was Shielder's turn to shine. Standing protectively in front of Lovise, he shouted, "Self-Field Defense!", projecting an invisible shield which protected every Magus and Servant on the site, even the ones which were departing. But said protection was not able to ward off the increasing cold around them, increasing cold which manifested as falling snow and gusts of chill wind.

Then, three figures manifested in front of them, two women and one male, all of them Japanese. The first one was wearing a military uniform which mixed influences from East and West while the second woman was wearing a pure white kimono which accented her black hair and eyes - Snow blew around her. As for the man, he cut a striking figure in his blue, black and white traditional Japanese robes, even as he looked contempteoously at the Red Team, grasping a katana in his right hand. He was the first to speak.



"My name is Ren no Nurarhiyon, Mixed-Blood of the Philosopher Kings, Master of Archer, and leader of the Night Parade of a Hundred Mixed-Bloods!" And with that, a literal hundred Mixed-Bloods of various kindreds appeared behind him out of thin air and all drawing near to their Inversion Impulse. "I, Archer, and Oyuki have come to ask for your surrender - Yield and you may yet gain a great boon from our Master!"

The cold blew harder upon the Red Team as these 'Philosopher Kings' waited for their reply for approximately five seconds. Once those five seconds were up, Ren no Nurarhiyon would say, "Pity.", before his followers launched an attack, benefiting from Archer of Purple's skill in Tactics and Charisma.

At the same time, Oyuki would cause the blizzard to intensify, buffeting Magus and Servant both, while any of the former who stared at her eyes would find themselves hypnotized into doing her bidding and turning against their fellows. Then, she'd launch a series of ice lances that could pierce even otherworldly concepts into freezing and shattering!

[@Red Team, I'll Ping you all on Discord]

Beneath the Hexamilion Wall surrounded by various skeletons of in human and animal forms. Vanitas was carefully preparing some beverages and snacks in his still crudely made workshop. Watching a pot of coffee simmer down while he added a few finishing touches to a plate of finger sandwiches he was planning to serve to the others while they continued on with their discussion up above. Most people would say it would be more efficient if he was at the meeting rather than wasting his energy doing such menial tasks. But then most people didn't have access to extra bodies that let them share their senses and minds.

Truth be told, he was already there in a sense. Listening into their discussion using a few skeletal guards that he placed near their meeting 'room'. His consciousness divided yet connected to nearly all of his autonomous familiars should he need to take direct control of their actions. So really there was no reason his true body would need to be present. For now he would let them conduct their strategies and afterward he would treat them to a nice break.

Or at least that would be his plan if not for the sudden drop in temperature, from an incredibly warm 31°C of summer, he could indicate from his familiars outside that it dropped to a frightening -12°C in almost an instant. Quickly assessing the situation by dividing his consciousness to his familiars on the outside, he could see that Karna had been attacked. Significantly if his familiar's eyes were working correctly.

"Oh dear, it seems our guests are early."

Vanitas muttered to himself, calculating the angle and trajectory of the attack and then dividing another part of his consciousness to one of his closer familiars to get a good view of their attackers.

Infront of their base, stood a young man that was clearly inhuman. With narrow red eyes, long white hair, and a head that seemed to make his hair float. The youth announced himself as Master of Purple by the name of Ren no Nurarhiyon, with an army of a hundred at his back. There was no doubt about it they were being attacked.

"Masters of Red, It seems the Philosopher Kings have made their move. From the current information I have two individuals by the name of Ren no Nurarhiyon, Oyuki, and around a hundred mixed bloods have arrived. Their Archer has already dealt first blood to Karna, the current temperature is -11°C and is still dropping. I will now be providing some of my familiars to fight off the cold." Simultaneously all of the skeletal familiars near the meeting room spoke his message in unison.

A few of his familiars inside the shield began to gather around the group into a circle some humanoid and some bestial, but all the same the black lines that marked their bodies began to light up in an orange glow and a wave of heat and steam began to get released. Warding off the dreadful temperature but making sure not to scald any of his allies. One of the human skeleton then directed its attention to his servant breaking of from the group and pproaching the father of all humans before bowing its head.

"Caster please lend us your strength."

Rider and Assassin of Purple

Before Judah can land a hit on Rider of Purple, the boat tilted sharply to the left, hopefully enough to cause the Black Servants to lose their footing... Although the Vampires and Oni Mixed-Bloods were caught off-guard as well, almost falling off the ship. Assassin of Purple, however, kept her poise despite the tilt, and gave a small yawn as the ship righted itself a second later. She then looked at her Black Team counterpart, then the Lancer of Black, before saying her next words with deliberate arrogance and condescension.

"Huh, it seems you won't just fall over and die for us," she taunted, "Well, you ocean devils - No offense, Purple Rider - Have made a grave mistake in fighting a captain on his own ship! Valiant soldiers of the Imperial Army," she addressed the remaining Vampires and Oni Mixed-Bloods, "Charge! Sell your lives for your Soveriegn!"

The Purple Team troops charged with renewed abandon, with the Oni Mixed-Bloods losing themselves to their 'Inversion Impulse', granting them increased strength, control over fire, and telekinesis, the latter which was used to try and fling Lancer and Assassin of Black off the decks. Each Vampire and Oni Mixed-Blood can take up to three blows from a Servant before dying, and if they hit, it would be enough to make a Servant feel pain. And there were nineteen (now eighteen) Vampires and ninteen Oni Mixed-Bloods to face the two Servants. So Assassin of Purple hoped that once all of those had been eliminated, that the two Black Team Servants would at least be winded.

Nevertheless, if by some unfortunate chance, Assassin and Lancer of Black were unscathed... That would not alter their next moves. Once the ship's crew had fallen, Assassin of Purple would look at her Black counterpart and say, "It's TIME for punishment - Manual of Accusation!"

Judah would then find himself falling, falling downwards into a black pit, filled with toxic, acidic poison at the bottom, poison which could overcome even the extraordinary resilience of a Servant. To all outside, however, it all seemed as though he disappeared for a second, sinking into a deep dark hole, before being spat out, hopefully damaged.

As for Lancer of Black, he'd find Rider of Purple tipping over the ship once again, no, not tipping, it was actually doing a barrel roll!

@SSW@Yukitamas

@SSW





The bloody haze that they whipped each other into left the boat filled with a haze of slaughter. It was barbaric, it was inhuman... ah yes, it was much easier and better than slaying men by the thousands.

Of course, they were more dangerous enemies. The way one vampire faded into nothingness as he slammed a clawed gauntlet towards his face. The way a lithe lady, looking no less delicate than his niece, Elizabeth... although quite a bit less thirsty really. Locked his arm and dug her nails into his elbow's crook.

Ah, the pain bloomed, the pain bloomed indeed! "Ah, is this a pale moon-night dance?" he asked of her.

"Yes, of course, do you not know? It is always a ball, a party. The moment the fun ends my reason stops as well."

"Then what you seek is not victory, nor defeat, but a dance is it?" he asked of her before twirling the spear in his hand, slamming its shaft into her piercing arm with a speed that exceeded sound, shattering it into bloody gore and pale ivory splinters, all echoing out with the sickly sound of bone shattering and accentuated by... her moan.

"It is droll! To wait for new playmates, to engage with the games with naught but the pawns being exchanged for centuries and centuries. To wait for a talented new upstart that can shift the balance is to wait for a miracle and wish... Is it not better to fight those who have one then?" she asked as she retreated, the arm that disappeared from her body remanifesting, knitting itself together with a reversal of time.

Lancer grinned.

"The dance that simply dances by itself, to end it is to stop being a dancer. If you are no dancer then you are no longer a lady of the night indeed. Then I shall bring the Guignol to the ballroom!"

A laughing aristocratic man lashed out with a blade surrounded by a dozen shackled souls, twelve eyes vibrating and layering their curse upon the man they were made to look upon and hate.

He was no monster in blood, but he held their abilities, their repute and in a way their existence. A man like a vampire who stood against true bloodsuckers.

The blood that flowed from his arm froze in the air before being flung away to paint the side of the captain's deck from the sheer force of Lancer's burst of movement forward. He slammed his spear into the cursed blade while fending off the strikes of an oni with his free hand.

A mana burst that brought a power on the level of a servant, but an ability and body that could not quite match Lancer, the seasoned blood-soaked knight that he was. A heart caving fist, the circuit burning curse that momentarily brought a pressure to him before he slammed his spear through the vampire's heart and pushed the swordsman through the floor of the ship, hard enough to impale him in its innards.

"I had known him for two centuries. A paltry amount of time. Yet he had never thrilled me as much as you do now!" the lady-beast cackled as Lancer twirled his spear to cut through a volley of ice darts fired at him. He had the skill, Magic Resistance, but he continued to block the spells that would have been mitigated to only a slight amount of damage so long as he had the luxury as he was swamped in this melee.

Ah, the rush of magical energy, the flood of mystery as a legend was reenacted. It was enough to distract and bring surprise to all the enemies that could be aptly called in a sense... fodder, for at least a moment. Assassin disappeared, and yet Lancer did not despair.

"Oh, are you not worried?"

"I ask that of you, lady. As your allies fall to their second sleep... or first in those who were born monsters. But no, you have your eyes only on reflecting the insanity of the moon! I see only the insanity of steel, and of men who profess to love and do not! Likewise, you do not fight for the reasons of your allies, you fight only for your dance!"

Their dance truly began. The vampire who took to giggle weaved through the blows of Vlad, devoting herself solely to defense. Perhaps to the chargrin of her allies as she ended up taking away one of the vectors of attack without providing one herself. The way she weaved into their space, it was like she was trying to get them involved... in fact she very much was.

Yet that did not mean lancer did not attack her at all, even if some other warriors may consider it a "waste" and that he should have focused and dealt with the other warriors. He was chosen as a dance partner, and he was Lord of Wallachia, the Shield of Christendom. How could he let a lady down even if she was so twisted that she burned without love, burned solely so she could find a reason to burn.

She was a longer just like him then. He could not be enflamed the same way by her as a woman who truly discovered their love and stood against the world, even if they were to waste away, or even take monstrous actions. Of course she was no human too which was a minus.

But yes, it was a bit like his cute niece at least.

Armor cracked from inhuman blows, blood flowed from where chunks burst from his body from overcharged explosions of energy from oni. But where they were able to strike him, he slayed them. He created spear after spear, showing his ability to not be tied to simply one spear as he left them all impaled.

Even a stubborn vampire who would not stop with his brain destroyed, his heart imploded, and his limbs scattered was made to kneel by the sheer amount of stake-like spears that impaled him. Dozens of weapons affixing and bending his body.

The battle became rather nasty for Lancer as well when Assassin disappeared as he had to deal with those that remained. But they were finished and only three remained.

A lady who stood upon one leg as her other one was still restoring from being dashed into mincemeat and dust, while her chipped nails that gave way to superior strength failed to prevent her arm from being split in half, and her torso carved away with a quarter chunk stolen.

"My... "
She gasped out in a chortle as though she were told an amusing joke, instead of being chopped up to her final death.

"You are quite intoxicating, knight."

"And you are hungry indeed."

"I do not like that you have eyes for another lady however."

"Ah, you noticed. Then I shall give you a parting gift for the night before I continue onto business!"

They rushed at each other. Lancer's arm wound back, eye confirming the location of the Assassin that had done who knows what to his ally.

The vampire pounced forth, a bloody deluge and a ruined body flung at the servant in a embrace of death.

The two met, but not with fist or blade.

Blood rushed out of Lancer's mouth... not from his wound, but that of hers as he dug his fangs and teeth into her shoulder. Her own fangs in turn ripped the side of her neck like a lovers... yes, kiss.

The spear flew towards Assassin as he entertained the lady for a moment before finally flinging her to the side.

Surprised as she was, she could only giggle and cackle as she disappeared off the side of the boat. "We shall dance again then! I shall bring my attire and proper decorations for such an occasion!" came her voice where she once was... along with the shriek of one of the half-bloods that apparently did not perish from his wound sustained in battle that also flung him off the boat. Instead he had managed to dig his nails into the boat and cling... Well, until his ally ripped him off and drained him as an in-flight snack. What hit the ground was a dainty elegant lady, restored, and a dry corpse.

Lancer in turn created another spear before slamming his foot into the ground to launch himself at the Assassin. His steel flashed, batting the splinters that erupted from his jump at her as a projectile

"The sinful must taste their own pain do you not know?" He rained down with his blows, his punishment and return gift for the Noble Phantasm. "It seems your noble phantasm is of that shape and form, then you yourself must know that you too must share in that as well!"

@HiddenBlue @Sakaki Chizuru @Unoedipal





"Curious that they are revealing the abilities of one of their servants, even if it is Assassin is it not? I suppose they wish to try and make us fearful of being able to fight them even without their Knight Class Servants. Indeed, it seems that it is a bit of a struggle but... certainly not hopeless."

The man chuckled as he did his work. Despite his regrets, Rider was quite good at rounding up people and helping him deal with the natives. To deal with their ailments, and to burn away... ahem, metaphorically (and in a few cases not so metaphorically while no one was able to notice of course) the threat and illness that was threatening to spill wasn't very difficult. Especially as coordinating with the one he sometimes called and talked to as much as Rider. It was a trivial effort to figure out which cases to treat first. How to snip the potential spread.

No doubt the Faction of Purple utilized a charm spell, or a sort of charisma skill to convince the villagers to take these gifts... Still, it was a sort of strange sense of humor. Not that he didn't find it funny.

"Rider, what do you think, looking upon the modern people of what was once your land? Do you find them interesting? pitiful? or are they the same as always. The coward in the background, the Greek Choir in a play. To care for the people is the role of a hero, but the people is just the people until they rise up to become a person as well. I'm afraid no one here is very entertaining... they simply live their lives, not swimming against a river, nor awash with blessings. Yes, there is nothing to stir or change here with fortune or misfortune. Well, I suppose Purple has given them some sort of misfortune that we are now correcting. After all, it'd make our dear-" he raised his phone to his face "-Hearthrob happy, to help them."

He lowered the phone as he turned towards a new presence that he knew was coming. Well, not just because of his eyes but-

"Speaking of helping, our help has arrived."

"I've picked up the samples, and I am now here to deal with the ailments. Where are the sick. Do make sure they know their position, and the gravity of their situation in a way that does not encourage abnormal reactions of stress and distress. Orderly reactions and conduct as befitting their place as patients is important after all..."

"Ah, you've arrived."

It was a familiar face, one who was famed, and well known through the world. The doctor that defied death "Medicine will be advanced more with the sample I collected you know. All we are doing in these villages is staving the spread of something that has long failed to be a problem. Even mundane doctors of this era would be able to handle this... They are far inferior in skill and understanding, but this is a matter a child could deal with."



Asclepius, the doctor of the Argo, Paean, he whose corpus laid within Ophiuchus.

"...Heh, or so he would say no? Oh dear sister, oh dear captain!"
The doctor twisted, his visage twisting and wobbling as it changed into someone else's face.





"HOHOHO, Do you not enjoy my ability? my one and greatest talent! that is... to fill the stage and become all the stars within the sea of the sky. Call me Aether Dodona. But I am simply the Argonautica's Theater. I am not sure if my father has told you of me, but consider me a sister to your dear vessel. She requires a crew does she not? and it is the role of family to fulfill that! Well, I was made with that catalyst that brought you to this world you know..."

"Ah, you've arrived. Please, help us with our duties before we return to deliver the samples of the dead vampires and half-blood you salvaged from the battle with Purple to dear Heartthrob."

"Antonio has come as well, father."

"Oh, quite good. It has been tiring and hungry travel really. Are you hungry Rider? not in a physiological way of course, but would you enjoy some cheese too?"

He then finally took his phone again to return to his first conversation.

"A few corpses and pieces were able to be collected. They'll last long enough until you have a chance to take a look at them, dear. Is there anything else you'd like me to pick up from the corner supermarket?" Heckling her as though this were a normal piece of everyday life... Ah yes, it was fun indeed. For the man who hardly looked at anything normal, this mockery and dance of the normal was quite special indeed.

[@Red Team] @Phonic

Saber had anticipated many strategies from Purple in the coming battles, given what he knew of them and their current position.

Expeditionary forces to probe their defenses and gather information? Certainly, that was well within expectations. Perhaps even a more open assault once they each took to their own paths, provided sufficient trust in the strength of their own — not the safest move, but certainly a worthwhile gamble.

This was...none of those. Instead, they had decided to send a rather sizable lot of their forces en masse, and revealed one of their Servant while doing so.

The details of her identity were revealed by the use of the Noble Phantasm promptly. The Fool of Owari, then? Though he didn’t hold an Eastern barbarian of such ilk in much regard and they had been informed of Purple’s circumstances, the idea that someone claiming to have even the slightest amount of pride as a “Heroic Spirit” would aid such creatures was revolting on an instinctive level.

But his personal feelings — and the monologue of the one apparently leading the forces — were hardly of any consequence at the moment. In fact, the most important thing was simply the being that was at the head of the forces, standing silently by the monologuing idiot.

Well. He had wanted something like this, no doubt.

In an instant, he took stock of the situation and ran a thousand scenarios in his mind, before nodding imperceptibly but resolutely.

Truth be told, chief among his concerns, Saber had merely wanted to avoid giving out his name because “having a few tricks up his sleeve” was good, and that went hand in hand with his identity remaining unknown.

He was not the kind of hero whose name would reveal a crippling weakness. Perhaps knowing his abilities, and if they had been lucky, they would have summoned an opponent that would be “troublesome” for his skillset, or more wary of his tactics and more certain on how to evaluate him as a “threat”, but that was really it.

Ultimately, the element of surprise was never not “beneficial”. That was the core motivation.

However, when faced with these odds…

A Dead Apostle Ancestor

An enemy Servant that was focused on someone else on his team

A multitude of Mixed Bloods.

All of them grouped up together rather nicely.

He made up his mind in less than a second, drawing his sword without complaint.

Generally, Saber preferred to use the more “efficient” of his Noble Phantasm’s abilities alone out of pragmatism, but in these circumstances...well, it just wouldn’t do, to not try to take advantage of an enemy’s blunder.

It was a gamble, and he would be going back on words he said not a minute ago. But it was the kind of gamble that was worth taking, considering what they stood to gain. For that, he was willing to eat his words, as well.

He placed both hands resolutely on the hilt. There was a thrum of magical energy.

The sword shone. His eyes gleamed. The strength of Rome answered the call of one of its heroes.


Lightning flashed. Thunder roared. The “imitation divine lightning” that Saber proudly bore, his symbol as a Heroic Spirit, violently surged from the blade like the hammer of the skyfathers of old, a torrent of energy unleashed with the singular purpose of obliterating the enemies in front of him and cleansing the world of filth unworthy of it.

It spilled forth, painting the surroundings a pale blue in the eternity between heartbeats.

—Among the tools of heroes, Saber’s Noble Phantasm comfortably sat in the upper levels even among the vaunted Holy and Demonic Swords of legend. At a guess, only the ones touted as “the strongest” would be considered of higher quality.

Moreso, like those two, it had even attained the rare classification of “Anti-Fortress”.

Therefore, his confidence in it — his trust in its strength, was anything but unfounded.

Red Team

Ren no Nurarhiyon and the Night Parade of a Hundred Mixed-Bloods had emulated the real Nurarhiyon and the Night Parade of a Hundred Yokai as far as they could without attracting the wrath of the Mixed-Bloods who preferred to live with Humanity or those organizations who hunted down those who preyed on 'innocents'. As one group, they had haunted the dark spaces of Tokyo, teaching those who wandered there to fear the night, feasting on the blood and life force of those who fell into their hands, be they 'evil' or 'good'. They had upheld the ancient traditions of their various clans as much as they could, resisting the call of modernity and the hollowness it represented.

And now the Night Parade was gone, just like that, obliterated in one single blow by Saber of Red's Noble Phantasm, but Ren no Nurarhiyon and Archer of Purple were nowhere to be found, the former having shouted a Command Spell to order the latter to whisk them away before Saber of Red's Noble Phantasm had activated. That left the also critically-injured Oyuki, who was struggling to regenerate from the burning wound dealt to her, to raise her hand, seemingly in surrender... Only to 'flare' her Command Seals and shout for her Servant to do something as well.

"Rider!" was her shout.

Rider and Assassin of Purple + Lancer and Assassin of Black

Before Assassin of Purple can avoid Lancer of Black using her Chinese Martial Arts, Rider of Purple, who had been controlling the ship through willpower alone, suddenly grabbed her wrist. Before she can utter a word of indignant protest, she, Rider, and the Santa Maria were suddenly warped through space, pulled towards where Rider of Purple's Master had called for his presence. Lancer and Assassin of Black, however, were not included in the teleportation, and unless they shifted into Spiritual Form at once, would fall from a great height to the ground below.

On the plus side, they managed to get a good blow in and Yggdmillenia had been alerted to the Purple Faction's 'smallpox gambit'. Vlad himself would feel the sensation of praise, of pleasure, from his link with Darnic...

Red Team

To the surprise of most everyone on the Red Team, a large flying ship, modeled after the vessels of the early age of exploration, warped into space, carrying its Captain, evidently a Servant, a young-looking girl in Chinese robes who had her wrist held by the Servant and might be one herself. Both enemies acted quickly, the Captain shouting, "Santa Maria - Drop Anchor!", while the young-looking girl leaped down to pick up Oyuki, somehow managing to dodge Karna's flaming shots (A-class Agility?) before unceremoniously throwing the Dead Apostle Ancestor's regenerating body abroad the ship.

In the meantime, the 'Drop Anchor' Noble Phantasm caused several mystical chains with a ship's anchor attached to the end to manifest and begin smashing the area at random, with one anchor hurling towards the approximate location of Belisarius/Saber of Red and two others hurling towards the Masters...

"Hexamillion Wall!" Only for Shielder to activate his Noble Phantasm and cause a stone wall to rise up and 'soak' the anchors hurling towards the people he was supposed to protect. Thank me for this later, Your Highness, he telepathically whispered to Lovise.

In the meantime, Karna was firing arrows at the young-looking Chinese girl, each arrow being dodged by the latter but setting the ship's deck afire, putting Oyuki's life in further peril. He would have eventually hit either the girl (Assassin of Purple?) or switched targets to the Captain (who was obviously Rider of Purple) or finished off Oyuki, if not for an anchor of the Santa Maria hurling itself at him and being easily dodged.

Then, red mist, of a slightly lighter, more pastel shade than blood, burst forth from the ship, covering the entire area. Daniel, having transformed his clothes into a more elaborate set of magical attire, then gestured to blow the mist away from the Masters' position, instinctively recognizing it as some sort of danger.

For as the Santa Maria used the cover of the red mist to flee, the Rider of Purple shouted, "Ha! I hope you enjoy airborne smallpox serum!" before flying his sheep away at a velocity not expected from such a bulky vessel...

Well there was no point in trying to convince Clarenzio and his Servant to give any information about themselves since they were so adamant about it. Hopefully they realized the kind of bed that they had made for themselves. Within this team, Clarenzio had established himself as someone who will not trust others and gave them no reason to trust him in return with their lives. He was a foolish young man with a savior complex, that was all. "You'd think a mage his age would have grown out of this phase already..." Kaden muttered to himself.

It was right then that Kaden would receive that telepathic message from Karna that raised his concern quickly. A blizzard in Greece? "Everyone, we're-!" The threat was too quick; Karna assaulted by a volley of projectiles though his servant was not phased by such attacks. Shielder was quick to react and erected personal shields to each Magus and Servant though it did nothing against the rapidly decreasing temperature though his jacket did give him some protection. The enemy was quite literally at their doorstep and they certainly did not take their sweet time in revealing who they were.

The Philosopher Kings really were an ostentatious bunch; not only did they appear on their turf declaring an overwhelming victory before the battle had truly started, but had the gall to make an offer to serve under their ridiculous banner. Let's not forget to mention that they really were expecting to overwhelm them with superior numbers when they only had one Servant and a single Apostle, and an army of mediocre mixed bloods."You overestimate yourselves." Kaden said, preparing to give his order to his servant like the other masters, but the imitation of divine lightening crashed down from Saber of Red's sword and erased all of the weak mixed bloods and destroyed Oyuki's attacks in one fell swoop.

"So this is the power of a Saber." Perhaps it was true what they said. Perhaps the Saber class was the mightiest of all the standard classes.

Well, despite an attack that tore through heaven and earth, the main three of the Philosopher Kings had made it out alive though that snow woman was on her last legs already though in an act of desperation she summoned her servant, Rider, and with it came a massive ship floating in the air. To not repeat everything, the ship had ran off with the Masters and Servants of Purple and left a miasma of smallpox that lingered in the air. "Archer, aim your attacks at the snow woman!"

Even with the chaos unraveling in front of him, he saw an inactive figure begin to make his move.

For the entire time the meeting took place Adam was present in his master's stead, sitting on a rock and silently was observing Vanitas' allies with those large, expressionless, golden eyes even when the threat of the Philosopher Kings was at their doorstep. It was not that he did not recognize the impending threat that the enemy was, but rather, he simply did not have the urgency that many of the Masters and Servants possessed for the situation. To him, this whole surprise attack was irrational; there were only three beings that posed a threat while summoning an army of beings that were scrapping at the bottom of the barrel in terms of strength. While it was puzzling how the Kings found them so quickly, attacking without having a real information on who their opponents were was suicide. Either way, they were completely underestimating the Red Faction.

Adam's eyes trailed down to the human skeleton that was Vanitas familiar and heard his master requesting his aid through it. "As you wish, Master." The Caster stood up unceremoniously and pulled his hood down from his head while he walked to the center of the uninfected area. As this was a weapon of those from evil alignment, this was probably something that he could easily deal with.

The white cloak began to glow with a radiant, pure light that could only be described as something that was not an imitation of divine light, but the genuine thing. "Shroud of Yahweh." That light erupted from the cloak and enveloped the area to repel and burn away the evil that is the biological weapon of a disease that killed so many indiscriminately in the past.

Meanwhile, Patroclus saw this as an opportunity to deal an even bigger blow to those Philosopher King bastards."We must not let them get away!" It was as if ash was forming around his body and then focusing itself around his legs. An impossibility for any servant other than himself, Berserker of Red had access to the legend of one of the fastest heroes to exist for their very being and fate is tied to one another.

"Dromeus Komētēs"! With a speed that surpassed any modern vehicle, Patroclus went after the airborne ship with hopefully other Servants following in suit.

@Red team

The enemy forces had been thoroughly decimated with a single blow from his Noble Phantasm. Archer’s Master had been forced to use one of the precious Command Mantra alloted to Masters in order to be able to flee for his life as his men died due to his incompetence. Furthermore, the vile creature had been critically injured and had also needed one of its Command Mantra to bring her Servant and another ally in to take her out of the battle.

What was more, the Servant had used his own Noble Phantasm to no effect thanks to one of his current allies fending it off, giving away his identity to them for nothing in return.

Christopher Columbus. Sailor. Explorer. Conqueror. The information flowed into his mind easily, and was combined with what his Master ascertained.

Sheer strength: victory. Toughness of body: match. Speed: overwhelming victory. Magical energy capacity and control: overwhelming victory. Luck: certain loss.

—Clash of Noble Phantasms: certain victory.

...Yeah. Running the potential scenarios in his head, there was not much else to say.

In the circumstance of “a battle of one against one”, Rider of Purple was simply outmatched against Saber of Red in almost every possible situation. The only threat he realistically posed would be as fire support while other Servants that were better suited fought him.

With that knowledge, his mind got to work, and it was added to what was already present for his plans besides.

The beast had been terribly wounded by his Noble Phantasm, putting her on the backfoot in a way that he did not expect to see again in the entirety of her tenure in this war.

The only comrade that could provide them with a measure of ranged support had fled, likely long gone by now.

On this end, his Master was still present, but the “alliance” of Red yet held, and Shielder, if nothing else, had proven that he would be able to protect him from Rider’s Noble Phantasm, to say nothing of the remaining multitude of defenders.

And, they still possessed a ranged component to their offense.

Only the young girl remained an unknown, but Saber could also surmise a few things from what his Master chose to share.

Furthermore, especially for Saber with his specific set of abilities, chasing down this enemy and escaping if things didn't go according to plan was both an obvious and effective course of action.

Taking all this into account—

Saber began to walk forward, lightning still crackling around his sword. Did he intend to use his Noble Phantasm yet again?

Well...in a manner of speaking.

However, first...

“Archer. Continue as you have and provide supporting fire for as long as your Master will allow. Harrying them in such a manner should prove fruitful.”

Without pausing, he unilaterally devised a plan of action based on what he knew and had seen, and forcefully pushed it on them. One went off ahead, but that was fine, Saber didn’t know what he could do, so including him in the plans was worthless to begin with.

“King of Conquerors, I presume your own mount would not lose out to something like this, either? If you would, making this a battle between mounts and giving them more to worry about besides would be helpful.”

As he spoke, voice still casual and a smile on his face, lightning began to arc across the length of the blade, heading upward.

“Shielder, continue protecting the Masters from his Noble Phantasm. Anyone else, I am not certain of your abilities, so if you believe yourselves capable of contributing, I have no objections.”

A simple plan, but a worthwhile one should all the pieces fall into place. It was not a brilliant stratagem, but it did not need to be — for this moment, the Red team held a clear, overwhelming advantage, and Saber merely thought that they should push it for all it was worth.

“As for myself, I think it’s time I got properly acquainted with the enemy, too.”

The lightning reached his hand.

—and it flowed in.

Certainly, even if another hero had possessed Saber’s Noble Phantasm, this way of using it would not have crossed their minds — even with the most optimistic predictions, the damage received would have been critical.

However — Saber was in possession of a unique burden.

It was neither something honed through battle and experience, nor a talent of the body he had been born with.

It was something deemed inherent to the existence of “the Heroic Spirit, Belisarius”, engraved into his Saint Graph itself and, fundamentally, in his very identity as a hero.

This lightning was the strength of the legions he had commanded and the “power” that had seen his Empire’s borders recover so much within a single lifetime, due to the efforts of one man.

This lightning was his dream. It was Justinian’s dream. Their dreams of conquest and restoration and rebirth. Such was Saber’s sword, colored in such a way to resemble the “light” carried by the Great Ancestor as its proper successor.

This was “Rome”.

And what was Saber, if not a vessel for Rome’s blessings?

The lightning flowed, and Saber’s body could do nothing but accommodate it properly. It wound up tightly within him, suffusing his body of ether in its power.

...If one took the chance to examine Saber, even without knowing his name, they would likely discern that his quality was beyond doubt. After all, Masters would be able to discern that, even if he was not completely overwhelming in a singular area, he still possessed good ability across all of them.

Right now, however, with the power all but flooding his system...well, a singular strike would certainly fall short of the cascade of lightning he had showcased earlier, obviously. But nevertheless, the strength he displayed would have to be considered of a “different magnitude” altogether.

“—Hey, Rider of Purple, I don’t know if you can hear me, but even in these circumstances, I have to admit your Noble Phantasm is an asset, you know?”

It might have seemed like a digression, or some would have used the chance to sneak in a barb, but Saber praised his enemy’s ability without mockery. Even if it would still lose to his own, that Noble Phantasm certainly was nothing to scoff at.

“But, at the same time? It has a very clear weakness, Rider, and we’re in a good position to exploit it. Do you wish to know what that weakness is? I’ll tell you—”

Generally speaking, the mounts of Servants outstrip modern vehicles as a matter of course. However, in most cases, the sheer speed of a Servant would overtake that of the mount — but the difference was fundamentally one of “sustain” versus “burst”. Just because you can run “faster” than something else, it might not be as great if you can’t keep it up for longer, right? Moreso in the circumstances of the Holy Grail War, spending magical energy in such a manner was wasteful for the most part.

At this distance and with Saber’s newly-acquired strength, however…

Forward and upward, in a burst of speed and strength, he jumped towards Rider of Purple’s battleship without even the slightest hesitation, as though he himself were lightning.

“—The disadvantage is effective range, Rider. After all, if I’m on your ship, can you target me with those anchors?”

The Dead Apostle Ancestor was critically injured. Rider of Purple simply could not contest Saber of Red physically, and being robbed of the chance to use his Noble Phantasm only made his utility in the match even worse. That just left him with…

“For what it's worth, young miss, I’m sorry. If you stand aside and let me deliver a proper end to that filth behind you, I do not mind letting you go tonight. But if you do not, then know I will at least make your deaths quick, and that they shall pave the way for the glory of Rome.”

Lunge toward the weakened monster with overwhelming might—!

Before Iskandar could have gotten another word out or before Princess Lovise could have returned his greeting, a strange occurrence had come about. A chill rolled in like an unexpected guest, and it make Iskandar stand tall realizing a visitor has invited themselves over. As then the strange familiars that surrounded them had started speaking. The master of them must have been off somewhere else, Iskandar hoped he would be well, after all his strange creatures are providing warmth! But alas it seemed Iskandar would need to leave such nice warmth and comforts to face the enemy once again.

Iskandar looked to Daniel as he spoke, "Master we must be off. It seems the enemy has made a stance against us". Iskandar sent his right hand down to his side and takes hold of his sword. Right when he draws his sword, he makes a slash into the sky as it looks as if a slice of light goes out and cuts the sky itself. The place where the cut was made had opened up a rift in the sky resembling a gaping mouth made of pure lightning. With a thunderous roar and a tremor, a chariot of steel and stone emerges from the rift into the world being pulled by 2 large ebony black bulls the size of cars appear. When the Chariot fully exits the rift lightning clouds seem to follow the feet of the bulls as they huff and snort with the sounds of lightning and thunder.

Iskandar laughs out as he takes his position upon his chariot prepared to mount a counter-offensive and says, "Come, we have a charge to lead!" Iskandar put out his hand for the boy to mount his chariot as he sends down the reins, the bulls let out a huff and a stomp that sent a thunderous thoom that announced a charge. Preparing to leave even if his master would not mount with him for this was a battle, but Iskandar would be displeased if Daniel would not come with him.

Even with this Iskandar Roared to everyone who would listen, "To battle!!". Once these words left his mouth his Chariot began to move. His charge was head long as he held his head high. The thunderous stomps of the bulls weren't such an easy thing to dodge as one might expect, the chariot ran at speeds far exceeding the speed of most land vehicles. Unlike all other vehicles, his chariot can reach these speeds in no time, as he starts to head straight to the crowd. Iskandar raised his arms up and far out to his sides as he calls to everyone who is in front of him, "Come face your end to..." as in the middle of his sentence, a thunderous roar of energy appeared and nearly wiped out everything in front of him, as it almost included Iskandar into the total hit.

Luckily, Iskandar had the reactions and skill to move out of the way just in the nick of time before the beam of lightning just takes him out like a simple foot soldier. Iskandar whirls back around quick and turns to find the enemy had been wiped from the face of the earth. Except for the few leaders and...a giant ship. Iskandar watched Daniel jump into action he was impressed with the kids swiftness. His instincts were solid as he knew what to do with something so quick. Iskandar had to watch the interaction play out, yet it ended with an even better situation than he was going to be in, Iskandar heads down to find their Lightning ruler had already taken to giving orders, “King of Conquerors, I presume your own mount would not lose out to something like this, either? If you would, making this a battle between mounts and giving them more to worry about besides would be helpful.”

A laugh leaves Iskandar's smirk as he says, "I would never dream my chariot would lose. I'll be right with you then". Iskandar leaves his hand out once again for Daniel to take so they may head off, yet Iskandar will not wait for long. As the battle will leave very soon without them.

@Unlucker@Letter Bee
@Red Team

@Yukitamas

Jason did his best to ignore the specter that had been created by his master and just focused on helping the people. Coordinating the cure, and keeping an eye on the battle. Every person he helped was a new potential crewmate and a better investment of his time. It was just practical and otherwise, otherwise he would feel the knot on his neck and the crushing weight of his despair again.

That thing was everything Jason wanted to avoid, but in the end, he knew would have to rely on that curse too to win. Plus, if he addressed the thing, he knew his peppy ship would want to pop out and that would get annoying quickly.

So once things had calmed down, he turned to his master to answer his earlier question, “The people of this era? The truth is that they haven’t changed at all from my times. They are still small. So you are right, people like these won’t swim against the current and can’t change their own fate. They are just children walking in the dark, but that’s why they need heroes. They need to be taught that they have nothing to fear, for a proper leader will be there to shine a path they can follow.”

That had been the kingdom Rider had wanted to build in his youth, a place where all could live happily and no one would be rejected. That had been the promise Rider had made so long ago… but in the end things didn’t go as planned. That was why he couldn’t waste this chance.

Pounding a hand to his chest, Jason boasted, “And the one to do that will be me, when I regain my glory and properly become a King. So for that reason Master, let’s attack the purple team. This is our chance, and they need to pay for doing this to our people!” With a slow spin, Rider turned his body until he pointed to the horizon, “So let’s borrow a vehicle and pack some cheese to go, we will end this war tonight!”

“Dreams are but the future. Without such aspirations, what right to power does one have? Call it naivety. I simply refer to it as “reality”.” Clarenzio said dryly towards Kaden Trask. Without turning to face the person who had made such a backhanded comment against his way of life. But he seemed…. Almost serene. If he had any worry before, such was not found on this version of Clarenzio

He had told his Servant to hide his identity. He had told his Servant that informing others of his existence would allow for better countermeasures to take place.

Clarenzio seemed to defy a lot of conventions. His mannerisms, his appearance, and even the way he spoke seemed unnaturally calm for someone who had just witnessed a colossal display of power. One could chalk it up to his inability to see, yet for whatever reason, he always seemed able to seek what he wished to seek. While impaired in some way, it seemed that his vision did not hinder his ability to ‘view’ the world. What sort of view of the world that might be could be up to speculation. But one could tell he could “see” in a way most others would not have been able to.

However….

---A clap, then another.

---And another

There was a smile on Clarenzio’s face. To defeat the demons of the night…. To aid in the destruction of those who had given up their “humanity” to the detriment of humanity was something that Clarenzio would happily stand beside.

“Excellent work~! Bravo! I could not have done it better myself. You truly are the greatest class of Servant, Saber~! I doubt any of you can even doubt my ability to grant us victory from the jaws of these monstrosities~”

Clarenzio was applauding the display he was shown by his Servant.

“A truly magnificent display by a truly magnificent Servant~! I doubt there is a single Servant in this war that will grant you trouble. Though, personally, I wished you would have kept the bodies more … intact. I suppose beggars cannot be choosers though. With this, you can play all you want. Your righteousness shall light a path for others to follow."

Clarenzio would begin the arduous task of collecting the dead. At the very least, it appeared that the enemy Servants were retreating. Such materia would be something those in his profession would consider invaluable. The prices for such on Dark Amazon would put him into debt for centuries at best, and that wasn’t a bill they could realistically collect on given his magic and personality.

More so, the bigger prize. The blood of that…. Well, realistically Clarenzio didn’t know what she was. But the aura he was able to view from her soul was exuding malice that likely radiated for several blocks.

However, such bodies were incinerated. They would be useless to most mages. Such things were truly disgusting. However, to someone like Clarenzio, who lived off the existence of others, such was not a problem. Specialized in the field of the “curse”, specialized in the tracking of “alignment”, such was not an issue to discover the location of this dust. If his Servant wished to continue to assault his opponents, that would be perfectly fine by him. After all, he was a man of action. It was simply unfortunate that the opponents were to have run away, however, his Servant has proven himself at the end of the day. ‘

“What a haul~. And all for you, my little Valli."

Clarenzio’s shadow would envelop any of the remaining ashes into its existence.

And grow.

In power.

In strength.

In magnitude.

“Clarey, you really know how to make an amorphic shadow demon feel special. You know that?”

Red Team

"I've always wanted to get up on your chariot!" Daniel said as he took Iskander's hand. "I always wondered what it had been like for Lord El-Melloi II..."

Daniel had heard of rumors of his mentor, the one who taught him how to be the best Magus he can be, had once summoned Iskander for a long-ago conflict. Although he knew better than to pry too deep into said mentor's affairs - He didn't even know if Lord El-Melloi II saw him as more than an annoyance - He had nevertheless heard about how the Magus formed a bond with Iskander and how the former had grown as a person due to the Servant's influence. Just like he himself had grown as both person and Magus thanks to Lord El-Melloi II's teachings.

Looking at the ship which embodied the malice he had mistaken the Clock Tower of holding, Daniel Palaiologos shouts, "If any of you return to my grandfather, tell him this - He is dead to me and will be dead in truth soon!"

------

"All right," said Assassin of Purple to Saber of Red, "Best to cut our losses anyway."

And she stepped aside and leapt off the corner of the boat, even as Rider of Purple/Columbus pulled out a pistol and shot at Saber of Red, while his other hand held a cutlass. At the same time, Oyuki hurled more spears of ice to counter every arrow Karna shot, yet every time each spear hit ever arrow, the point of contact and explostion drew near to the Dead Apostle Ancestor, who was staggering backwards, crawling closer to where Rider was presumably being torn apart by Saber of Red's lightning-fast assaults. Then even as one of Karna's arrows hit a spear she was just forming a meter away from her face... She enfolded Rider of Purple/Columbus in a frosty embrace, biting his neck even though such a gesture was unecessary from an Energy Vampire and Apocryphal Dead Apostle Ancestor.

Columbus melted down into pure Ether and Mana, which was swiftly absorbed by Oyuki even as the Santa Maria began to vanish into motes of light. Now, the Apocryphal Dead Apostle Ancestor could... Flee for Mount Taygeyus, flee to the region where Sparta once stood. She was conceding the fight, even as Karna kept shooting arrows of flame at her, arrows of flame countered by increasingly more powerful ice spears as she kept zooming towards the Purple Faction's territory...

------

Ren no Nurarhiyon held the blood of Nurarhiyon, but the legend of Nurarhiyon himself was younger than he'd like to admit - This was why older Mixed-Blood families of Japan were quick to laugh at his claims of being the 'Supreme Commander of all Mixed-Bloods', especially as his famiily were newcomers to wealth and power, 'upstart noveaux-riches', from the Mixed-Blood families' point of view. But due to the hazy relationship between Belief and Mystery, Ren's phantasmal bloodline allowed him great power anyway.

What was said great power? Why, a 'discount' version of an Assassin-class Servant's 'Presence Concealment' which was nevertheless miles above the sensory capabilities of mere gaijin Magecraft. The source of this 'Discount Presence Concealment' ability was the legends of the Nurarhiyon being able to enter the homes of people and drink tea and smoke there as if he were the owner, legends further enhanced by Television and Manga, concepts which he would allow to continue existing even when Humanity has been enslaved to the Philosopher Kings. Not merely that, but his Human Half, though contemptible compared to his Yokai/Phantasmal Beast half, had psychic powers in the form of Pure Eyes, which allowed Ren to see the Bounded Fields and other magical defenses that Vanitas Crudelis Hiram had put up in his underground lair and thus sneak past them.

As he moved closer to the very door of Vanitas' chamber, Ren was in high spirits as he prepared to burst through said door and cut down the Atlas Alchemist. However, he had one oversight: His Pure Eyes failed to account for the existence of surveillance cameras which used modern science and technology...

If there was one thing Vanitas always knew to be a stupid move. It was trying to attack a magus while they were in their workshop, a place where they had all sorts of weapons, tools, bounded fields, familiars, security systems, and escape routes. But apparently the young 'Supreme Commander of all Mixed-Bloods' disregarded such things as something one should take into account.

Looking down at his tablet, Vanitas could still see the image of the young man leisurely walking through the tunnel that would lead to his workshop. The spy cameras he had gotten were portable and wireless, easily placed around the his lair and the entrance. While walking through another tunnel connected to his workshop, he watched the young man simply phase through most of the bounded fields he had setup using his ability, but completely failed at keeping himself hidden from modern security measures.

Shaking his head at the younger master's foolishness. He broke out into a smirk as, finally reaching the dead end of his escape tunnel, Vanitas activated his familiar buried in the earth. The earth above him began to open up like a sink hole, his familiar's earth magic giving him an exit. Climbing outside, carried by 2 of his more bestial constructs. The man found himself in the middle of the remaining masters still in the meeting area. The sink hole he had just used sealing up.

"Sorry for the unannounced intrusion everyone. A rat managed to get into my room, but I'll make sure to bury it." With a lackadaisical tone, Vanitas split his consciousness while showing his tablet.
________

Vanitas opened his eyes to darkness, his Alraunes that were buried deep into the floor, walls, and ceilings finally stirring from their slumber. Normally constructing an entrance underground needed support structures in order to not have everything collapse. Vanitas' solution was to simply have his familiars use their ability to control the earth to make those support structures their bodies.

Now he was going to make it all collapse on top of the intruder.

---Crash

With a thought, the ground beneath the Ren's feet began to sink. The walls began to crumble and the ceiling itself collapsed in front of the door he was about to enter. Skeletal hands and heads appeared from below, above, and the sides, biting and grasping at the unsuspecting youth as the earth shifted around him dragging him down even deeper than where the workshop was located.

"Ren no Nurarhiyon, Master of Purple. Please enjoy your tomb beneath the earth, I won't be letting you out."
_______

Watching the cameras in tunnel go black, Vanitas made a mental note to get his spares and maybe salvage the unbroken ones for later. At the back of his mind he could still feel the teeth, claws, and other appendages digging into his opponents body as they went lower and lower before stopping. His familiars constructing a cocoon of earth around him. Hopefully his opponent will succumb to the injuries rather than dying of suffocation.

To save or to destroy.

To tell the truth, she did not mind where she went. The world itself has a penchant for stabilizing itself after all. Lean too far in either direction and sooner or later the world will correct itself.

"The ten thousand to five."

Break, mend, fix, dismantle, heal or destroy, the coin spins around and eventually lays on one side. But that didn't mean the other side did not exist in its shadow.

"Five to two."

Of course, that coin has landed on one side for her, which meant she was late. That meant she also wasn't late right? She came right on time would be the right thing to take away from this, and she certainly wasn't late to anything what her faction was doing.

'Two to one."

Yin and yang revolved around two sides, that each had a little bit of the other inside it. She wasn't late, she was here on time, and there were no delays, just detours. Not that there were any worries save for her own tardiness. It didn't take a skilled mage to sense the clashes had already started.

"Hmm, hmm. This one tarried for too long."

It was time to put in some work. After all, she had already chosen her path, now she need only follow the flow.

What a joke.

It was exactly the sort of circumstances that she would be summoned for. She had expected to be on cleanup again, preventing another disaster long after it had manifested, but by some twist of fate, she was summoned as a Servant this time. A wholly surprising turn of event that didn't happen often.

"Hmm. This is going to be troublesome."

Servants of all pedigree, strong in their own rights seem to be prolific in this war. What more, there seemed to be three factions warring amongst each other. Troublesome and lethal if she misplayed her cards. And she was going to need every single trump card she had, or cheat somehow to get the upper hand.

The most obvious threat currently would be the group that wanted to kill everyone. Obviously a threat, and should be destroyed first, but with these Masters running around with their own agenda, it would be hard to solve this war without casualties of some sort.

Archer of Black sighed at the thought. First, more information would be needed, preferably something she can leverage.

Now here's the funny thing about Patty's Noble Phantasm, Dromeus Komētēs; its speed was completely outrageous even when compared to the chariots and lightning used by his fellow servants. It was equated to instantaneous movement and in a single breath anything within his field of vision would have its distance closed in a mere instant. Of course, it was impossible for anyone to know that a Servant wielded such an absurd ability and the snow woman was so focused on not being felled by Archer of Red's arrows that she could not even worry that another could take her head in a second.

Faster than she could have ever possibly conceived, Patroclus' leaped high in the air at meteoric speeds towards Oyuki who was still distracted by the volley of projectiles directed towards her and who in turn kept returned fire with her own icicles. While not a Noble Phantasm, he had been summoned with a sword-spear and a Greek shield as his armaments in the same way that Alexander still had his sword. The weapon then was emitting a crimson light, a light that truly was a Phantasm that belonged to the Berserker and him alone. His sole accomplishment that he was remembered for in his legend, the death of Sarpedon, Sarpedon's Blood.

In the split second that it would have taken him to close the distance between him and the snow woman, he would swing his weapon with the intention of cleaving her head right off her shoulders. There was no point in giving her a chance to recover only to return to seek vengeance for this humiliating defeat so granting her the cold embrace of death that she had avoided for centuries was the best decision.