Yukitamas

Fate/Factitious Paradigm

@Manythings @Enterthehero @Paradox Witch

Railroad Tracks. Battle For The Spear

There was an explosion, a conflict.

More importantly there was something of value, something that called out to Berserker. OR was it that he called out to it? Whatever the case there was something to take of value, and in that sense he and his master were united in desire.

But there were other tasks to take care of. The value of what appeared to be up for grabs was certainly high, but it was something far below the value of exposing a servant.

A general could not secure all points, an emperor could not pave every road in his kingdom. For an emperor, a general was but one man and his lands were large, his ambitions and needs even larger.

Yet an empire was only strong because an emperor could take into hand that which was beyond one man. The power of Berserker was not that of the lone hero, no. The power of Berserker was the power, and riches of his nation.

So the emissary of Berserker went in his stead. What blazed through the city with a speed was not the servant himself, even as it sped through with a momentum beyond most creations of the modern age.

No, what passed through the streets was not a servant, nor a beast. Clattering and ringing, it was a chaotic and noisy canopy of noise. It was the sound of an army marching to war, amplified in the mess of a most strange method of transportation. Bones creaked, armor clanged against the ground.

The distance from the church to the railway was devoured, and after traveling on top of the rails to its destination the emissary of the Emperor burst through the wreckage of the already mangled train to fly towards the familiar that had managed to grab the spear. The form of it revealed as a ball, a mass of skeletons wrapped together. A Skeleton Ball

Falling upon the zombies that swarmed, it bounced after crushing the various bodies that had been gathered and then infested. Gore, poison and filth covered the ball as it finally collided with the familiar with the spear without any drop in speed.

Falling upon the familiar, a dozen hands reached out for the spear while another dozen grabbed at it, seeking to halt the momentum of that familiar and pull the spear along with it to pry it into its grasp.

Fate/Factitious Paradigm

@Dosthou

Technically? at the bridge -> Church

The golem was a giant among its kind. Massive, huge. Normally such a golem would be more than the rival of almost anything that a magus
could design in the modern day.

Unfortunately said golem was in the Fuyuki City where a magus had designed something that completely overshadowed it. The Grail War System to summon and bind small emanations that derived from Heroic Spirits, servants.

A golem of such size would normally be able to fight a servant. Yet this was a rushed job, constructed from materials that were not quite as aged or deep in mystery as those of a high quality. There were foundations and meaning to be tapped upon with wood. But in the face of the Persian King it was not quite enough.

An ax ripped through an arm, while a fist met another. The clash was something that sent ripples through the land. Almost tearing apart the ground as much as the golem had been trying to.

But what broke was not the arm of the, admittedly massive giant in relation to the normal human, of a man, but the gnarled trunk-like arm that burst from the impact that traveled through its seams. Unarmed, the golem toppled without balance from the result of the clash.

The end result was a forgone conclusion. Berserker summoned a number of his soldiers to fetch the smaller chunks while he himself dismantled and chucked into his noble phantasm, the various parts of the golem piece by piece.

Ah, the storm was ending. Darius watched for a moment the climatic end to the chaos that engulfed Miyama before returning to the church. He was, if nothing else, a loyal and dutiful mad-man.

Fate/Factitious Paradigm

@dosthou @Sageage

Interlude III

[Remains of Tragedy / Reparation for victory (3)]

Ruler - Hercules

Burning Miyama Town

There was a desperation in the fight of Lancer against Ruler. Of course that was to be expected. To simply overcome a calamity was in the nature of heroes, even if it was a struggle. But to overcome a greater hero, to be a hero who aided calamity against the one who stood above all others?

The strike against him was one that rang true, yet by the virtue of the proof of his deeds it was judged unable to contend with him. Ah, how disappointing. In the end the boy was but a lily yet to blossom. To the one who had reached the end of the twelve-step journey one immature could not contend with him.

Yet even then there was no restraint on Ruler’s part. There was no denying Lancer’s ability. Many servants would have been crushed already by the effort of Ruler, even if there were some who would not only be able to stand their ground, but also strike at him and force him back.

As such he decided to bat away the lancer, sending it flying far away with a simple backhand. He did not underestimate this Lancer, nor did he take the wasteful path of being too cautious. To simply deprive the Lancer of possibilities was acceptable.

His axe swung down. Even he could not prevent Lancer’s step in for a final blow. Or rather, even if he did it was a waste of time and effort. Knowing that Lancer’s Noble Phantasm could not harm him the servant had to rely on but his raw strength. It could hurt him, but to slay him once, let alone defeat him was a near impossibility for that youth in this situation. He was prepared to take a bit of damage, for there was no other hero nearly as robust as he. If the price to finish this battle and end this obstruction was this then he had no problems. It would strike soon after, their strikes almost in parallel to end the duel.

The fist of Percival met the body of Hercules. Bone shattered, and the impact rippled through the youth’s body, wild waves of force shaking and tearing his arm apart, metal whined and distorted, bending from the force of Percival’s flesh and bone that pressed against it. Mangled meat was all that was left from the impact, and the only reason it could be called an arm in shape was because of the distorted red armor that drooled crimson liquid in dripping torrents as though it was the hungry jaws of a wolf. Barely maintaining its shape as it twisted and expanded out. The shape was recognizable as a thing meant to be cariciture of an arm, but no longer could it be called so. This level of damage was on par with the result of a certain mystic eye, inflected upon one’s self.

The blow was of an immense power. Reaching above A+ strength, matching the power of that oni, or perhaps even exceeding it. In this situation, putting all that he did in it, it was a blow that was self-destructive to Percival. But it was not something that could topple Ruler. But...

Then

Hercules

Stopped

The roar of Percival filled his ears and the sound of the flames and battling servants in the background faded away. His momentum was halted by the blow.

This was not the result that should have come from a blow even of this strength.

Hercules’s body also broke. The force of the punch caving in his chest and ripping his spiritual core, rendering it a lethal blow even to him.

Hercules died.

A second punch came from Percival and he felt the force from the first still pushing him back, making him unable to react.

Even with the resistance gained from Godhand the blow was enough to knock him down, to topple the greatest of heroes and harm him. In truth it was more like a push in what it had achieved, but it was no less an impressive and yet self-ruining blow.

With a crash that left an imprint of Ruler on the ground, his body treating the streets like snow for all the resistance it held against him. The greatest hero fell.

He looked up at the young man, at Lancer who seemed to stand taller than before, even as he shook from his wounds and condition, barely able to stand. His mangled arms healed, and yet Hercules could see traces of where his ruptured arms had threatened to rip through his arm as slight traces in the red-metal.

He was quite truthfully… confused.

Ah, there was indeed a tragedy occurring. Yet even in standing against the hero as an obstacle to salvation there was a blessed youth who did something that seemed impossible. A lamentable thing to see such a miracle happen for such a cause.

It was beneath him to be dazed. But there was a moment of confusion, of surprise. How did that happen?

How did this young boy strike him down like that?

For a moment, for one moment where the world seemed to pause for any who were watching, Hercules laid down and pondered.

But then the reality of the situation sunk back in. In time much less than a whole second Hercules sprung into action. Magical energy collected and the keen hand of Hercules rained down like the heads of dragons. His fists slammed into the already torn apart ground, creating a hole, a cavern. Even in a time like this his instinct was to protect. Both for the sake of his neutral position as a administrator of the grail war, and as a hero. To protect children was something he dearly desired.

He grabbed Lancer and together the two fell into the ground. His body was a shield, and hidden from the full-brunt of that world they would survive.

Fate/Factitious Paradigm

@dosthou @Sageage

Interlude III

[Remains of Tragedy / Reparation for victory (2)]

Ruler ?

Burning Miyama Town

Even with experience and great battles many heroes would not have been able to respond to Lancer’s advance in such a manner. In this battlefield where Lancer was covered in great blessings and given greater power there were few even in this war that could match his strength blow for blow as a hero.

But the charge of the spear even in the midst of the black flames, ashes and smokes that would have been a threatening blow, that rose above the rank of A in power was repelled. More than repelled, Ruler twisting his body for a powerful swing that dispersed the clouds. It was as if where Ruler stood nothing could encroach. Not even these curses, not even this suffering. If anything his presence advanced into it with each moment of the fight.

But it was not as if his swing was to allow him to see. To begin with he intercepted Percival’s blow and overwhelmed it. The youth found his charge completely stopped, pushed back. Without much time to recover and prepare for his counter attack, Ruler’s ax was already in motion, crossing the distance between them in an instance.

Faster, stronger. It was not just supreme ability that drove Ruler’s overwhelming presence and the pressure that pushed beyond the horrors of the flames, of disaster. It was his radiant pride and glow as a hero.

Faster, stronger. There were people in need beyond this servant. There was a frenzy to him, a controlled frenzy that built up. Each strike was deliberate, each blow flowing into each other. For blows of such great power to seem graceful, for them to weave together in the design of a warrior was an awe-inducing sight.

It was natural for even heroes to be impressed.

Why?

Because he (Ruler) was the greatest of heroes.

His cursed body of steel was something that could defeat most servants by its lonesome. In the class that sealed his mind in madness he was still the one who would stand at the top of such a ritual.

But it was him, the hero, the one who quelled calamities, who slew monsters and overcame impossibilities again and again. To that which was considered impossible even to the heroes who conquered the limits of humanity he was a higher ranked existence.

He was the greatest hero of the world.

Hercules.

And that’s why this knight would not keep him from those who needed saving.

Fate/Factitious Paradigm

@dosthou @Sageage

Interlude III

[Remains of Tragedy / Reparation for victory (1)]

Ruler ?

Burning Miyama Town

The trouble in Miyama was something that could not be ignored. The threat to the ritual could not be ignored. The role of a Ruler, his role in this war was the preservation of the authority of the grail, to protect the ritual.

As such the fire was something that he could not allow to spread or continue burning.

As a hero his role was that of one who saved people, who conquered monsters and vanquished evils. Calamities beyond mankind’s ability to overcome, forces that were far beyond human limits.

This was an absolute terror and evil visited upon the world and people, a great calamity visited upon the people of Miyama town, no, Fuyuki City. People burned, houses were being swept up by the flames. The battling servants only added to its strength and their continued disputes and battles only threatened to make things worse.

So he had to act, and put a stop to it. It was not only a matter of duty, It was a need, a call that he had to answer. A hero could not look upon such injustice and not act. A hero could not see such horror and remain unmoved.

So that is why he could not let a servant stand before him, nor would not. This fight was different from the one with that Caster. While the Lancer before him was a participant that Ruler should avoid fighting, the fact remained that the highest priority was the sanctity and safety of the Holy Grail War. It was not a battle that he should have, but it was a battle that he would earnestly fight. The Lancer had become an obstruction to Ruler. Just like that Caster. Yet the transgression that Lancer was committing was far greater.

From his satchel came a weapon, a great golden axe the size of many normal men. His cursed body hefted it with ease and his great power before he burst into a charge that left the winds screeching in torture. With godly speed the axe fell upon Lancer, and as a natural result the blow that would shake the foundations of the entire district sent the young boy flying. The power from the strike rippled out into their surroundings, and what was in their near vicinity that was not shredded into bits was sent high into the air like the star-like bolts that had marked the beginning of the war.

In a sense they were what declared the beginning of a new conflict, and resolution. That this was a incident that would be seen to personally by him.

Yet…

There was a sliver of surprise that flickered through Ruler’s mind. It was not enough to make him halt or hesitate, and he charged in again, following the wake of the blow. That strike had surely hit, yet it was met with a force practically equal. That was far from the strength that had been attributed by the servant. Yet that the blow had matched his own was an undeniable truth.

The flames licked at Ruler’s body, yet did not even leave a single burn, not even the slightest hint that would be a small bother like the bite of a insect. Let alone what the great scorching flames that burned even the soul would surely bring.

It was not that his body resisted these flames. It was simply that these flames could not burn him at all.

An unfortunate consequence came from this as the curse of Ruler’s body was leeched, bound to the flames as a divine mystery now spread into it.

But Ruler stood unharmed, even as he moved further into the flaming town.

Ah, so that was it. That armor, that servant. In this fire, in the midst of this tragedy it now made sense how he could stand against him. Yet that did not change anything. But perhaps now this child could give him a small amount of enjoyment in battle.

Fate/Factitious Paradigm

As Alice said, yep!

Fate/Factitious Paradigm

@Addamas @Reflection @Floodtalon @EnterTheHero

The Church

The fist that slammed into her was a powerful strike, a full swing of A-rank strength. Diluted as it was by the barrier of wind it was a blow that sent her flying away and brought stars into her world. An intensely painful clash, an intensely costly clash. Indeed, if not for the winds of Saber it was a blow that could have been called crippling to most servants.

With the saturation of the blasts neither Saber nor Berserker obviously escaped their impact, and Berserker roared out as some of Archer’s blasts showered them with energy. His skeletons leapt into their path, reducing the damage at the cost of their own selves as sacrificial shields.

Berserker himself continued to focus on Saber exclusively with the madness of his class. Swinging out at the wind slashes with his axes, his dematerialized one returning back in his hand. The attack of Saber was ripped apart and Berserker stared down the retreating Saber as she blasted around in her own defensive maneuver.

The message was clear, this was a battle that would not go very far. The concerns of his master, and the strange gathering of servants and masters brought to Berserker a new impetus, and so he retreated to the church to abandon the fight against Saber.

Fate/Factitious Paradigm

@Addamas @Reflection @Floodtalon @EnterTheHero @scallop @kyoka

The Church

The two spearmen surrounded Saber from behind as she flew in, the two archers dropped their bows that were deemed now to be useless with the revelation of Saber’s ability against projectiles, charging forth in a rush to grab at the servant from the sides so as to aid the Berserker, rather than simply get in his way. The rush of Saber was a miscalculation, eagerness brought on by her immunity to the attacks of Archer and some of Berserker’s soldiers. Her commitment would become that of one into danger.

Most of all however she underestimated the ability of the Persian Emperor to act himself. A weapon is an important thing, but a weapon that cannot be used was no longer useful. Even in his madness the Berserker understood such a thing. So he abandoned it. The axe faded into nothing, dematerializing and leaving Saber with no footing, tripping her up and reversing the momentum so that Berserker was now the one in the position to strike. At the same time Berserker swung up, an uppercut flying towards the servant’s chest to capitalize on the opportunity presented.

To retreat backwards was to choose the spears, the sides were taken up by the archers. Like the stampede of a war-elephant, Darius’s fist flew towards her.

Fate/Factitious Paradigm

@Addamas @Reflection @Floodtalon @EnterTheHero

The Church

The retreat was perfect in the sense that those who wished to harm his master faded away, as though mere grains of sand in a desert. With them gone, barely a memory to the berserker he found himself thinking once more of his rival. That man did not pursue him, but rather pursued the end of the world. The Persian Empire happened to be part of the world, his great obstacle to Okeanos. To be chased himself was an odd feeling to the Berserker, something that he felt even underneath the madness.

So when that servant appeared, blade in hand and rushing forth in a loud challenge he retorted with his own roar. If he himself would be chased down, if he, Darius the Third were challenged then he would bring forth his own might. The Berserker’s unrestrained dash towards the church ended, his massive bulk ripping a massive wound into the streets as he turned about to face the servant. His feet grinded against the floor and ruptured it, carving a groove a street long as he switched his intent from fleeing to fighting.

One may ask what difference that held from the challenge he brought to that man with the power of the Persian Empire.
In truth? It held none.

A number of ornately decorated skeletons manifested out of nowhere. It was not a matter of them growing from a ritual, or taking form with some dragon teeth. Rather, these dead soldiers, the Immortals, were the power of Berserker. It was then no surprise that they would appear just as easily as the berserker summoned his axes.

Seven appeared, two of them rushing into the winds with their spears. Against the strength of a servant they were shorn into half, crumbling into the winds as dust first before they dissipated as mere energy. The winds however did not advance further. Berserker picked up one of the skeletal soldiers in his massive hand and threw it directly at the slash. The clash tore the soldier to bits and dissipated the winds while peppering the mysterious servant with bone-shards.

With another roar Berserker charged forth, his motion not yet completely stopped, but forcefully reversed by the sheer demanding force he burst into new motion with. The shockwave of his dash sent bits of the pavement as deadly projectiles that peppered the area with craters and holes. A tree was shattered and fell to the ground, sundered. A lamp post whined as it was bent over and sent craning back into the ground.

Of course his soldiers were not motionless either. A duo of arrows flew towards the mysterious servant while the other two charged forth with as much reckless abandon towards the servant with their spears thrust towards her chest. Finally came Berserker himself, two gigantic axes forming in his hand as he swung directly at her, heedless of the fact that she held an invisible blade.

Fate/Factitious Paradigm

@Reflection @Manythings @Floodtalon @EnterTheHero

Fuyuki West, Bank -> The Church

Swarms, swarms, swarms.

They were loud, very loud. Loud like the armies of him numerous like the armies of him fast like the armies of him yet to compare them to anything like the armies of him were an insult to him and berserker himself.

They were not even worth fighting something whispered in himself. But that whisper was lost in the torrent of madness that clouded his mind.

His thoughts existed, his thoughts existed. Berserker thought and was the king he always was. It simply was buried under that which was forced upon him as a burden by his container. A Berserker that maintained his humanity to an extent. It was simply buried, unseen and unrecognized by any others.

However it made him a berserker easier to use. He was the large Emperor, the horned-king who fought not as a single hero but as the wielder of the might of a great empire and its even greater riches So he listened, and he moved as though he were a tool. He was a commander, he was a tool, a familiar.

With a roar Berserker burst through one of the nearby walls. His massive axes, almost matching the size of the swarms by their lonesome cleaved through the air,sending shockwaves that pulped their innards through their husks, and cleaved a few unfortunate bugs that drew near him.
▂▃▄▅▆▇██!!!
Perhaps another sort of berserker would have been delayed by such a swarm of familiars.

But he was not of that sort. Prioritizing completely the order of his master, Berserker appeared by the side of the mage swifter than the descent of the swarms. Rubble spraying everywhere from his passage shot like shrapnel, wrecking havoc everywhere save for where Xerxes was as Darius cleaved down the debris headed towards him into less than dust.

Berserker did not take the time to notice the group from the celling, or the various swarms already approaching. Taking Xerxes in one hand he simply retreated. Slipping away with his ability, it was beyond the means of such familiars to chase after him. With a leap that sent ripples through the very foundation of the building and threatened to collapse it like a earthquake, Berserker burst through where no bugs were.

If it were merely a matter of chasing after a servant slowed down by a human then perhaps with careful planning the escape could have been contested. But the Berserker was a legendary soul with many great anecdotes of retreat and rebuilding.

Berserker left nothing but the completely pillaged husk of a bank, ruined and destroyed, both physically as a structure and in its idea with its riches completely pillaged and the notion of its security demolished.

Following his masters orders, they retreated to the church of Fuyuki, hoping for sanctuary. For whoever who discovered them would surely not pursue them into such sacred territory?