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Fate/Infinity Compendium.Reboot [IC|Started|Provisionally Accepting]


Asriel Dreemurr

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Fate/Infinity Compendium

Cohosted by: Nanashi Ninanai

OOC

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The Holy Grail

 

A lost relic of a time long gone, many a mage have devoted their life to searching for it. With powers said to be unbound to our universe, it is believed by many to be an omnipotent wish granting device capable of granting godhood to those who wield it.

 

It was said to be nothing more than a shallow myth, a foolish notion that old men mulled over nearing the end of their days.

 

If only it actually was.

 

One hundred years ago, three mage families with an explicit interest in the Grail - the Argus family, the Hultgren family, and the Blackmoore family - came together and made a plan to summon forth the Grail so that they may share its power. Little did they know that Grail was a beast of its own, bringing forth great destruction and shattering the alliances that the families held together. All knowing that they weren't prepared for something like this, they researched and trained for the next attempt at summoning forth the Holy Grail.

 

Agreeing only to cooperate in the summoning of the artifact, these three families are more than prepared to play the games that the Grail so desperately wants to play. They have invited other magus to take part in the war, as well, with promises of all their deepest desires sated if they succeed in claiming it.

 

The three families, however, have no intention of letting this treasure go to anyone's hands but their own.

 

You are one of the magus who has been summoned forth for the second Holy Grail War. With a tattoo-like Command Seal emblazoned on your arm and a wish in your heart, you are more than ready to take the rest of the world on.

 

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Positions - Taken or Reserved

??? means that the player has not been specified.

Saber: Mr. Hyde Saber's Master: Ellyte

Lancer: Ellyte Lancer's Master: Next Tuesday

Archer: Nanashi Ninanai Archer's Master: Cherz the Poro

Berserker: Next Tuesday Berserker's Master: Hollow.

Rider: Hollow. Rider's Master: Nanashi Ninanai

Caster: Ketodama Caster's Master: Merciful Sans

Assassin: Lunar Origin Assassin's Master: Mr. Hyde

 


 

[spoiler=Rules]

  1. Why keep a rules list unnecessarily wrong? You don't read this s*** anyways.
  2. Regardless, Nai and I have the absolute final say here. Sorry!
  3. Oh, and I guess you should read the RP section's rules. Yeah, thought I would mention that.
  4. Try to be a respectful roleplayer. If you're accepted, it means we trust you.
  5. Skype is not a requirement to join this RP, but is preferred. It allows for ease of communication among all involved, and quick resolution of issues. If you wish to join the skype call, PM either myself or Nai with your skype details.
  6. This is the big one. While we are technically resetting to stage one of this RP, preference will be shown to those from the previous incarnation of this RP who wish to participate. The Servant and Master slots are left open to allow for players to change their mind, whether that means playing a different character or opting out entirely.
  7. Following the above, while players from the previous RP do get first consideration. That does not necessarily mean that someone new cannot beat out a previous player for a spot by virtue of making a superior app.
  8. Divine servants will not be allowed. To clarify, this means that servants who are gods or demigods will not be permitted in this RP. Sorry to whoever wanted to play Berserker Jesus of Nazareth. If an exception to this is to be made, it shall only be done so after consultation with myself and Nai and then a subsequent unanimous decision. Divine abilities held by non-divine servants may be acceptable.
  9. If you do not understand something, ask questions! Answering them is at least half my job as a host!

 

 

 

[spoiler=World Information]

[spoiler=The Basics]

Welcome to a world of magic - no, seriously. This roleplay is set in an alternate universe version of Earth where magic does indeed exist. Only certain special people of various bloodlines have the ability to cast magic; they are called mages.

 

Magic stems from this life force that all people have called "mana". Mages have abnormally high concentrations of this, and, because of that, can utilize their mana consciously, either for offense or defense. There are a myriad of uses for magic, and while not all of them are combat oriented, combat is the focus of this roleplay.

 

There are a few more terms and things you should know, for the sake of the Holy Grail War.

 

Servants: The spirits of legendary figures from the past, called forth by the Holy Grail and bound to a particular Master through the summoning ritual. Also known as Heroic Spirits, in spite of the fact that plainly non-heroic figures can qualify to be such, they are super-humanly powerful beings brought forth for the express purpose of doing battle. The Holy Grail also grants these beings knowledge of the modern era, so that they are able to blend in alongside their masters if necessary. A Medieval Knight summoned as a servant would be able to ride a motorcycle as easily as a horse, and a scholar could navigate the internet as easily as a library.

 

Command Seals: You gain these upon summoning your Servant. These tattoo-like seals are a representation of the bond between both master and servant; you have a total of three seals emblazoned on your hand. You can use one seal to force your servant to do something - against their will or not. When you use your third command seal, the bond between master and servant is broken after completion of your ordered act, and your servant will disappear.

 

Magic Circuits: These are the pathways within a mage's body through which mana flows, allowing them to perform magic by way of drawing it outwards into the world. These are partly supernatural and partly physical, being closely linked to the nervous and circulatory systems of the human body. As such, damage to them can often be crippling.

 

The Holy Grail: The Holy Grail is a device initially constructed by the three families with the intention of granting them insight into the nature of the afterlife. It was something of an accident by which it gained its innate ability to grant the wishes of whoever came to hold it at the end, and upon discovery of this the representatives of the three great families fought the first Holy Grail War to see who could claim it and the knowledge and power it would bestow. Four other mages were wrapped up in it, and the first war resulted in the deaths of all involved. Since then, the Holy Grail War has played out once every twenty to thirty years. This is the fourth such conflict to take place.

 

Noble Phantasms: Often weapons, but not always, these are artifacts or abilities that are integral to the Servant's legend and their classification as a particular class. If a servant was a renowned swordsman in life, they will likely have some sort of sword as their Noble Phantasm. If a Servant was a proficient public speaker, their Noble Phantasm may be the ability to convince someone that they are correct. Almost anything under the sun can fall into this category, but Servants can only have so many Noble Phantasms. The number one possesses is often dependent upon their legend and what abilities or items are associated with them. This is a case where Gilgamesh from the Fate/ series is a dirty dirty cheater.

 

Skills: Abilities which a Servant possesses that are not as intrinsic a part of their legend as Noble Phantasms. These are, more often than not, dependent upon the Class which a servant belongs to. For example, Archer class servants always possess the Independent Action skill while Berserkers always possess Mad Enhancement. These are graded on a letter ranking system. A is greater than B is greater than C and so forth.

 

 

[spoiler=Locations and Organizations]

  • Crystalwater City:  A sprawling city located in northeastern California.  Crystalwater was designed as the perfect environment for the Holy Grail War, and as such has any amenities any other well-developed city would have.  The weather is bearable for everyone and the general location is rather close to anywhere else while still being isolated.
  • The Church:  The organization that prevents the general populace from learning about magic.  Usually relegated to cleaning the messes that magus make, they have an negative outlook on how it affects humanity as a whole.  The church has been explicitly kept out of the Holy Grail War, due to the role they played in ruining the first one.
  • The Mage's Association:  A council of magus made up of all the most prestigious of families.  These are the people running the world behind-the-scenes.  The Mage's Association advertises itself as a largely benevolent thing, and its actions point to this being rather true.  However, there lies a great deal of corruption in the upper echelons of the mage's world that isn't exactly mirrored in the public level.
  • The Coastal Institute: A school for young magus located in Irvine, California.  Partly owned by the Hultgrens, most if not all great American magus - along with magus from countries on the other side of the Pacific ocean - come from this school for the gifted.

 

 

[spoiler=Great Families]

  • Argus Family - supposedly descended from the famous builder of the Argo, the Argus Family is a family of magi that specializes in the creation of magical artifacts. While they prefer building vehicles, their help was crucial in the creation of the Grail for the new Holy Grail War.
  • Hultgren Family - An American family that has an extreme affinity for summoning. While one of the great families of the world of magic, they’re incredibly secretive and tend not to share any information whatsoever with the rest of the community. Besides being the only American family of mages, they’re also one of the newest, having only existed for around two-hundred years. Integral to the Grail’s ritual, they created the Master/Servant system used to fill the Lesser Grail with mana. This family is considered to be the richest amongst almost all magus.   Along with creating the system by which to fill the Grail with mana, the Hultgren family also provided the land with which the Grail was to be summoned on:  Crystalwater City, located in eastern California.
  • Blackmoore Family - A family of Celtic origins, currently living in Wales but with estates across the British Isles, the Blackmoores date back to a time before the Roman conquest of England. They specialize in Necromancy, and generally escape the ire of the Church and the Mage’s Association by maintaining a very low profile in their activities and strictly policing themselves to prevent accidents. They were instrumental in creating and perfecting the ritual by which Heroic Spirits were summoned into the world.

 

 

 

 

 

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The Holy Grail

 

For thousands of years, it has been coveted by men and women. Strong and weak, young and old, rich and poor, all have heard tell of the grail's legend and have sought it out. Many have made themselves into legends by chasing this item of power, and those who have succeeded are held above all others as the truest exemplar of what it is to be a hero.

 

While this grail, summoned on this day in Crystalwater City, California, is not the same as that which has been chased for millennia, it is still an item of great power. When filled six times over, its power is that to grant the user any wish they seek. When filled seven times over, it bridges the gap between this world and the beyond. It allows those with the required intestinal fortitude to look upon the afterlife, and know its secrets. For these reasons, this grail has been fought over three times before by seven mages and seven spirits of heroes and villains from the past.

 

And the War to claim it is about to begin again...

 

 

"It would seem the appointed time is near." He said aloud to no one but himself. Cidus Graham, formerly Curator of the Mage's Association's Collection of Arcane Artifacts housed in the Clocktower, and presently the Overseer of the Holy Grail War. His arms, and in fact much of the rest of his body, were streaked with the crimson lines marking out the hundreds of command seals he had been granted to use as he saw fit. It was a terrible power to wield, and the responsibility linked with it was grim indeed. He was to see to it that the rules of the war were followed, rules that he had so far explained seven times in person to each of the prospective masters. It brought him some amount of sadness to see a number of former students of his among their ranks, knowing that they would die in the ensuing conflict. Still, that was the reason he was here. Seated in the pews of an abandoned church that had been converted into the safe house for vanquished masters. He would do everything in his power to see to it that those who lost their servants were safe. "If only there were some more peaceful way to contest you." The Overseer muttered, turning his gaze up towards the altar.

 

While it was spectral in form, only a ghost of what it would come to be over the course of the war, the Holy Grail was present there in the church all the same. The faint outline of a golden goblet, with vague splotches of color upon it where jewels were embedded into the sides. It had manifested only a few moments ago, presumably in response to the masters finishing their preparations to summon forth the servants. Cidus let out a sigh, and closed his eyes as he began to say a prayer. He was not one of the Church's priests, but he held respect for the god they worshiped all the same. He prayed for the war to end swiftly and with as little bloodshed as possible, and also that the Masters would conduct themselves in a reasonable manner.

 

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"...Six...Seven! There, it's done!" The petite form of Alexandra Blackmoore, eldest child of the Blackmoore family and sister to their representative in the war, rose up from the floor of the basement where she had insisted upon performing some final maintenance on the summoning circle her sister had constructed. It was a vast, complicated mess of lines and angles twisting about here and there that would have been utterly incomprehensible to anyone who was not versed in the ways of summoning. A master Necromancer like Alexandra on the other hand could tell at a glance that it was designed and intended to summon forth a Heroic Spirit who would be brought forth to fight in the Holy Grail War. Alexandra herself was clad in the elaborate ritual robes which she wore when involved in things such as this. Sure they were difficult to move in, but it was the sort of tradition that she held to. 

 

She, embarrassingly, had to look up at her little sister to see her face. The two of them really could not have looked more different. While she was petite and rounded out in, as her mother had told her often, all the right places, Elizabeth was taller and much slighter in her frame. The color of their hair was even as different as could be! Really, there had to be a lot of recessive genes going into one of them for them to both have come from the same parents.

 

"So, are you sure you'll be alright doing this yourself? I'd be more than happy to stay down here with you while you handle the summoning." Her eyes briefly glanced towards the catalyst, a royal seal in the form of a Chrysanthemum, and was once again envious of her sister. Still, if this was the way things were to be then that was it. She could only do so much regarding all of this. "Oh, you did remember to practice the incantation, right? Don't want to be making any mistakes." Maybe she was getting a bit to worked up about this, but with so very much on the line as there was she didn't want to risk anything. Her sister was much less trained in magic than she was, and the thought of something going wrong with the ritual was one of the few things that filled her with honest fear. There was too much at stake for them to allow any mistakes at all to be made in the following ritual.

 

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He, along with six others, sat or stood upon the sandy shore of a vast ocean. It was difficult to guess where or when they were outside of this strange place, but the low thrum of the waves against the shore had quite the relaxing effect on him much as he was sure it did on the others. Much as they had tried over the... he wasn't quite sure how long they had been in this place... uncertain length of time that they had spent here, none of them had been able to properly give an introduction. That was, of course, fine with him. He didn't want to reveal himself before they got into the conflict that was to follow shortly. Still, some of the others had tried to say their names and only been able to say the name of the class they were to be summoned as.

 

"Saber, Archer, Lancer, Rider, Assassin, Berserker, and I." The figure muttered. They were furthermore not only unable to speak their own names, but while they remained in this strange world separate from the passage of time they could not even properly see each other. Instead, each could only recognize the traditional trappings of their class upon their form. "I cannot speak for the rest of you, of course, but I for one am more than ready to get out of this confounded place."

 

Yes, they had been brought forth into the Holy Grail itself. A place where mana filled the air like an invisible fog, and where they were able to rest and make themselves ready for the opening battles of the war. No matter how far any of them walked in any direction, they always found themselves returning to this coastline and the company of the others. It was a shame that they could not get to know each other, there were a number of truly interesting characters in their group, and also a number of fools who bound themselves to the so called "gods" of the world. It sickened him, the thought of any man or woman being beholden to anyone aside from another man or woman. He found them to be deluded beyond reason, and he would take great pleasure in haulting their bid for the grail. Still, for now all there was for Caster to do was wait.

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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p_Sebu-Rt2s

 

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Light.

 

At first, there was light.

 

The young woman had been murdered.  Or, at least, that's what she thought.  Was she a victim of the hunt?  What had happened?

 

Feral.  Lustful.  The feeling of blood rushing to her head, to her muscles.  The thrill of the hunt, the sated desire, an ended day.  Another day of the hunt, another kill with her partner.  It was glorious, the most fulfilling thing that she had ever experienced.

 

And in the end, it was blasphemous.  The cause of her own demise, the very reason the goddess had abandoned her, not by her own fault but by the fault of her compatriots.  Betrayed by her own skill, inciting jealousy.  Love.  Flashes of light, the feral lust through her again.  The hunt.  The hunt.  The hunt.  Kill, hunt.  Kill, hunt.  That was all she could ever think of, now, until...

 

The gods offered her another chance.  To protect the artifact.  To protect the world, once again, for promise of an eternal hunt.  To please her goddess once again.  She roared with delight.

 

Of course, she would be a fool not to take it.

 

And...

 

She was no fool.

 


 

"As am I," spoke Assassin with a little smirk on her face.  She was a thin woman, pointed ears and a feral look in her eyes - she looked almost elven.  Her garb was a drab hunting attire, meant to camouflage one against the woods.  A huntress, instead of the traditional assassin, which was interesting.  Of course, huntresses, assassins, what did it matter?  Their job was to kill, and solely that.  She was good at that - moreso than most others.  Killing, the hunt.  What did it matter if it was a beast or a person?  To her, they were one and the same.

 

Regardless.

 

She spoke with a sureness that may have terrified the faint of heart.  "It's a shame the rest of you can't reveal yourselves to me.   To not even know the names of my prey prevents me from properly honoring you when your life slips through your fingers."  Spoken almost flatly, as if she was disinterested.  She was sitting in the sand, her bow held in lap.  She was stringing it.  "But we've all been through this before.  We've all been summoned only to be killed.  This time it shall be no different than the rest.  Keep that in mind.  Goddess grant each of you strength."

 


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“The Tower’s ventilation system has been activated. Hopefully that will help mitigate the strain from the summoning…” A small, yet stern voice broke the boy’s concentration, causing him to shift his gaze from the Catalyst that he had just placed in the center of a sprawling summoning circle, to the blonde woman sitting atop his expensive sofa with her legs crossed. Of course he didn’t need to be told that; having already sensed the sudden surplus of mana particles that filled the building as soon as they’d been let in… “Oliver, I’d also like to point out that I still find it ludicrous that you refuse to use medication Father left you.” Despina spoke again, causing him to roll his eyes before returning to his work. 

 

You know I don’t do the pill thing…” Oliver’s voice trailed off whilst he added the final symbol to his circle. Satisfied with his own handy work, the boy took step back to grab his drink from the marble countertop, before glancing to his sister with a smirk. “Not too shabby, huh?” 

 

“I suppose. But you’ll be doing the 'dying thing' you’re not smart about this, Oliver! The battle will be fierce. Full of enemy mages more powerfull than you’ve seen, and-“

 

“-and I’ve got an arrow for every last one of ‘em.” Oliver suddenly interjected, having glided to the window whilst his sister had been rambling. Gazing out into the night, the boy couldn’t help but wonder if the other representatives were receiving similar pep talks from their loved ones. This was going to a battle for the ages after all; he could already feel it.  “Relax, sis.” He cooed in a sultry tone whilst slowly taking up a stance as if he were about to shoot an arrow through the moon. “I have more ridding on this than anyone, right?” Releasing is imaginary arrow into the Crystalwater skyline; Oliver span around to meet his sister’s gaze with confident smile. “Plus, Pops picked ‘The Outcast Child’ for a reason…”

 

“Because he thinks you’re expendable.” Despina joked- or perhaps it was meant to be joke. Regardless the two scoffed in unison despite the fact that it was very likely that their father could consider this a suicide mission for the lad. Chugging the contents of his drink, then placing his glass on the counter Oliver began walking towards his summoning circle whilst rolling up his sleeves. “What do say we meet our guest?” Despina simply nodded in response before getting up and grabbing an expensive looking bottle from behind the bar and placing it on the table with three glasses. 

 

“Whelp, here goes nothing…” Oliver sighed, before getting down on his knees placing his hands in the center of the circle. Though he’d never show it, the boy was extraordinarily nervous. But who could blame him? Starting by gathering all the mana particles in the air, Oliver watched as a cyan dust began to swirl around the room, filling the top floor of Piper Towers with a supernatural glow. Molding the particles with his own mana, then pumping the amalgamation into the circle, Oliver was forced to shield his eyes as the light grew blinding. Basking in the warmness of the blinding energy Oliver stood up straight as he sensed another presence appear in the room. 

 

“Hello, partner.” Now able to reopen is eyes, a panting Oliver extended his hand towards the entity that stood in the center of the rapidly dimming cloud of mana, his servant. 

 

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As Assassin spoke, he found himself running his fingers through his hair in annoyance. Though they had been in each-other's company for quite some time now, he still found her cockiness to be a strain on his nerves. Him prey??? Did she know who she was talking to?! Of course not... whatever magic held them here was also responsible for robbing them of their ability to utter their true name, as well as a number of other irritating phenomenon. Rider glanced back at the mighty stallion that stood dutifully at his back and sighed; he hated horses...

 

"Agreed, my friend." The man addressed Caster, whilst staring out into the infinite ocean. "I'd be lying if I said I wasn't eager to see what some of you are capable of..." Turning to observe the others, he continued. "But for now, let us enjoy this view while we can." 

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What an odd waiting room. The sand shores of a beach sitting next to six strangers that she would no doubt kill without hesitation. Berserker sat there waiting for it was now her time to leave this place. The invisible floating cup that everyone was fighting for to make a wish. The whole thought of fighting for a wish seemed ludicrous at first, but why not? Why not have a second chance to engage in war. Glorious, glorious war. 

 

But is this even war?

 

Berserker thought to herself as she looked on at six other strangers. That was the problem it was just six other people is this the righteous combat and fighting for ideals that she wanted to live again? No this was most likely a bunch of aristocrats having a laugh with the heroes of history. Despicable, deplorable and simply unforgivable. She stuck her hand into the mist not saying a word feeling the mana surge through her. This was actually soothing. It allowed her to calm down. She realized that she was going to see a world vastly different than the one she came from. What wonders and sites would that involve? What were the fruits of her labor from her time alive? This being her secondary goal for participation...the thought of seeing if everything was worth the effort.

It looked like she realized that the other servants could actually converse with each other. It looked like someone had something to say.

"It's a shame the rest of you can't reveal yourselves to me.   To not even know the names of my prey prevents me from properly honoring you when your life slips through your fingers." "But we've all been through this before.  We've all been summoned only to be killed.  This time it shall be no different than the rest.  Keep that in mind.  Goddess grant each of you strength."

 

Berserker kept her hand in the mist that was keeping her calm. Only children who have never properly taken a life speak in this manner. I pity you. To get  a second chance at life and waste it on hubris.  May your Goddess watch over you as you will surely meet her again.

 

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It wasn't like he had many things to unpack, but he was all settled in. Its interesting though this new adventure. To be honest Tristan did not fully understand what was happening. If the Holy Grail "chooses" the chosen ones then how did the school just select him to actually participate. Not only that from what he was reviewing in his little cliff note version of this "ritual" he is supposed to somewhat avoid three families. How can a random selection of people be so organized about this. However, Tristan knew that there was something to magic. Magic and mana could always be controlled therefore things could be easily manipulated. 

Tristan had settled in for a week and decided to get familiar with the town for a while. He realized it was probably time for him to call forth his servant. It was early in the morning at his neighborhood church. He probably thought that his servant would appreciate this and the pure energies inside the place would make the summoning a much more pleasant experience. He had outlined his summoning circle in front of the steeple and rolled his eyes. Hope I have the energy to clean this up when I'm done. He pulled out his artifact and placed it in the center of his circle. He stepped back and prepared to begin.

 

~Summoning Song~ 

 

Hmmm now how to start? Tristan clapped his hands and the array lit up like the night sky as he proceeded to pour tons of mana into it. 

 

Let steel and silver be the essence,

Let the word and the faith be the foundation,

I offer unto thee, servant of the Light and the Trinity,

My word, my soul and my will.

 

The wings of angels manifested from the circle and they proceeded to cause a storm of feathers to erupt in the church, but this would not stop Tristan. This only motivated him to continue.

 

If thou should heed the call,

Rise and fight as my servant
An oath shall be sworn here!

Together we will break the bonds of evil and smite the world of darkness!

Arise my servant, from the world of restraint,

The spear of the righteous, LANCER!

 

From a blinding light the mana crackled throughout the church and Tristan looked on as when the light faded there stood his mighty servant!

 

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It happened quick though as she enjoyed her brief exchange with the other servants. She felt herself dissolving out of this plain. Hmm...

 

With a crackle she made her way to the other side of this circle. Wondering what kind of "Master" she would have. 

 

“Hello, partner.”

 

She looked on at this man child in front of her with his hand raised and simply looked from side to side. Everything was so...new and foreign. This was simply an amazing experience. It then dawned on her that this person summoned her. This was her "Master" she tried to hide her crippling disappointment and fear that washed over her being. But at that moment she made a realization. This scrawny child anchored her to this world...HER! He must have the mana reserves of a truly powerful mage. She should know better to judge a book by its cover. A mistake she knows not to make again. She extended her hand and gave the firmest grip to her master.

"Hello, Master. The blood of our enemies shall flow through the lands!" 

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He was getting nervous.  He wasn't sure if all of his mana had returned after he had used it to build the makeshift log cabin in the middle of a dense forest, not to mention the crude bounded field around it as well.  He sat feet away from his summoning circle.  In the middle of the magic circle was the artifact necessary to summon his servant.  He groaned, as he placed both hands in his head.

 

"What have I gotten myself into."  He whispered to himself.  Lifting up his arm, he glanced at the pattern that had been drawn onto the back of his hand.  His parents had told him all about the holy grail war, and how they were so glad that such a young family of mages would be participating amongst the greats!  Lance thought otherwise.  He wasn't built for fighting, but obtaining knowledge was all he cared about.  If he were to lose, so what?  If he didn't die, then it would be a worthwhile experience for the young magus.  

 

He took his time standing up.  

 

"Okay Lance....just like Mom and Dad showed you!  You've practiced this a million times!  In your head at least...."  He stuck out his arm and pointed his open palm towards the circle.  He took a deep breath before beginning the summoning ritual.

 

"You who lie in the shadows, come fourth if you desire to serve under me.  

Slay those in the night silently who would defile our will!  

Let those who have yet to taste defeat, take their first bite!  

If your wish may be granted by the holy grail, then let us fight away from the light that it so amazingly shines upon the mortal world!

emerge from the umbra, ASSASSIN!"

 

As the final words were said, Lance infused every single ounce of mana that he could muster into the summoning circle.  A bright light shone from the center, and Lance had to avert his eyes.  Was he successful in summoning his servant?  

 

He wondered to himself if he would've rather wanted to been unsuccessful.

 

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The view was incredible.  It always was when he mysteriously arrived here.  It was always the first thing he had thought.  This weight on his hip...it was so familiar.  The other six shadowy figures that stood among him were hopefully going to be different faces this time around.  He must've forgotten how long they had been standing here silently, but the silence was finally broken, first by Caster.  He gave off a hearty laugh after the first words were spoken.  

 

"Friend I could never get enough of this view!  Your company is all I would need to spend an eternity here!"  

 

 "It's a shame the rest of you can't reveal yourselves to me.   To not even know the names of my prey prevents me from properly honoring you when your life slips through your fingers.  But we've all been through this before.  We've all been summoned only to be killed.  This time it shall be no different than the rest.  Keep that in mind.  Goddess grant each of you strength."

 

"In due time assassin, in due time.  Until then, may our lord bless this war and all of you as well."

 

"Agreed, my friend.  I'd be lying if I said I wasn't eager to see what some of you are capable of.  But for now, let us enjoy this view while we can." 

 

This, coming from rider, pleased him rather well.  Another hearty laugh rang out.

 

"Now that's the spirit Rider!  I can't wait to have you all grace my presence on the battlefield!  Let us all soak up this scenery before we are all whisked away!"  As if the devil himself had heard him, the servant he presumed was berserker seemingly vanished.  "Speak of the devil and the devil shall appear..or rather disappear in this case!"

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There was a sea.

 

Six other figures stood nearby. Unknown figures, and Archer could not see their figures outside of what they would be classified as. How boring. It had been a while since she had been in this position, although within this realm, the passage of time meant nothing. Simply, it was plain too tedious to be stuck here, but it's not like she had any choices on the matter. However, it should not matter anymore soon. The clock finally ticked once more. The time is coming near.

 

The war is coming.

 

"Yeah, I can't really wait to smash the smug grin outta your collective faces, to tell the truth.

 

Last time I didn't get a chance to do much, so I'm itching for a real fight this time."

 

These words really meant nothing. It's just usual trashtalk before the main feast. Archer stared at where Berserker just disappeared. She had to admit that despite of anything, she did feel like wanting to know about the rest of them more. She'd get the chance, hopefully.

 

"This place's real boring. Can't really wait to get the hell outta here."

 


 

"Calialia, is the catalyst ready?" A robed woman said it with an impatient tone as she was busy finishing up her magic circle, while her assistant scrambled to get everything else ready. Said maid was now inspecting the catalyst that was left at the middle of the circle as ordered, but it seemed that she's taking her time with the task for whatever reasoning. The woman started to look more and more impatient, and thus she started tapping her fingers into the table near her. The maid didn't seem to get the signal however, so the tapping turned into the woman scratching on the table to create an unpleasantly loud voice to finally get her attention.

 

"You're getting really damn slow, tell me if it's ready yet or not! I'm still not forgiving you for last time, dammit!"

 

"In a cranky mood, huh?

 

...A-ah, I mean, it's ready now. Anything else to sort out, mistress?"

 

"Nothing. Now go back outside. Keep watching for any suspicious activities outside like a good dog you are.

 

Shoo!"

 

The maid, which didn't seem to be wishing to stay in the same room as her for longer anyway, decided to scram the moment her mistress ordered her to. The woman magus sighed, before she reached out to a piece of paper where an incantation was written, and looked over it for several more times. She was supposed to summon Rider with this catalyst - the perfect servant for her strategy. Whether it'd work out or not remained to be seen, of course.

 

"Alright, here goes nothing.

 

Deep...breath, deep...breath.

 

That should do it." A loud screeching sound could be heard as she did so. Her condition had made taking a deep breath unnecessary, but it's still a habit of hers that's hard to stop, and it had a calming effect when it comes to situations like this. She was supposed to summon her servant earlier so she could brief them about her plans, and everything else necessary to get them up to speed as fast as she could, but circumstances (namely her maid screwing up the catalyst the first time she tried, among others) made it so that she had to delay the summon to this day. At least, she had prepared a note to give to her servant later. So assuming they could read and not a Berserker (which thankfully, they shouldn't be), it wouldn't hinder her much.

 

The loud screeching sound was heard once more, and then, Ayesha started her incantation.

 

"Let silver and steel be the essence.

Let stone and the archduke of contracts be the foundation.

Let my selfish thirst be the master I pay tribute to

Let rise a wall against the wind that falls

Let the four cardinal gates close.

Let the three-pronged path of the crown towards the kingdom be opened

 

Let the grail be filled, again, again, again, again, again, and again.

Let it be filled sixfold, simply breaking asunder with every filling.

 

As your master, I shall tell.

My soul is your vessel, my existence is the one carrying your will.

If you heed the call of the grail, then you shall answer me.

My oath is to break the sanctity of this godforsaken war, to end a long-resting dream!

So ride into this battlefield, tamer of the iron beast!"

 

The magic circle lit up with a aquamarine light as she finished the last sentence. Starting with the inner circle, the light crept outwards and outwards, and even going outside of the boundary of the circle as the earth's mana gathered into the place. And then, a bright light consumed the workshop for a second. The figure of her servant stood in the middle of the circle, fully materialized from the ether.

 

"Greetings. To not be rude, I will start this exchange with my introduction first. The name I have been bestowed to...I am Ayesha Cherrania Miracoutta, a magus of this age.

 

If you have any questions, feel free to ask."

 


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GbjLcY7.png

 

An explosion of green light filled the room

 

and thus, Assassin was borne into the world from the womb of the Grail.

 

She was a beautiful woman, elven ears and olive skin that fit her green attire rather well.  Thin.  Gaunt.  She looked like she had been deprived of food for the longest of times, though whether this was the result of her own choice was unsure.  Fit.  Very fit - at a closer look, sinewy muscles laid directly under the skin, betraying the illusion of a weak girl.

 

She wasn't weak.

 

She wasn't weak.  She had proven that countless times before to the men of this world and had no further reason to care.

 

On her back were two bows - one unstrung, long, and simple, looking as if it was carved from ivory.  The other was a simple shortbow, perhaps carved from an wintry sort of tree - the wood was dark, almost black, even, and rather raw looking, as if it was hastily constructed whilst on a hunt.  This one would be recognized as the one she had been stringing in the grail, and it was still strung - and in hand, at that.  

 

She was a fair bit taller than the man that had summoned her, so she was looking down at him.  Intimidating, almost, but she was a servant so this was normal.

 

...

 

She was still staring at him, her eyes narrowed.  A man had the gall to summon her, the greatest huntress of her time, the slayer of beasts and men alike!  But... the goddess willed that she swore fealty to the man, and so she did.  She bowed down to one knee, bow held in place upright in front of her with both hands on the top.  Her head was hanging - the sign of someone who was showing respect.

 

"The goddess wills me to serve you, master, so we shall hunt with one another.  I am Atalanta, the Assassin summoned forth for the Holy Grail War.  It is my honor to serve you."

 

Her voice was soft and light, carrying a Mediterranean accent with it.

 

"Your will guides my bow, boy.  Direct my wrath."

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Three Months Ago

Within the Holy Grail War, there were three Great Families responsible for its creation, famous all throughout the magical community.

There were the Blackmoore, a Celtic family hailing from Wales, who were the ones who made it possible to bring forth the long-since-deceased Heroic Spirits with their Necromancy, making it such that the real things could be brought forth to the modern era with all their powers and memories intact. Without them, there would be no way to bring forth the necessary combatants for the Holy Grail War, making the very idea pointless.

There were the Hultgren, hailing from America, the newest yet also richest of the three, were incredibly talented at summoning and formed the conjoint system of Master and Servant, complete with a way to fuel the Lesser Grail, as well as providing an adept land unlike any other that would compliment it. Without them, there would be no way by which the ridiculously powerful spirits could be controlled, making the purpose of them fighting each other for the sake of the true Grail as nothing more than a mere pipe dream.

And then there were the Argus, a family with Ancient Greek origins, supposedly descended from the great man who built the Argo - whilst they could neither amass huge amounts of mana nor bring back the dead, they were specialized in magical artifacts. Therefore, what they could do was construct the structure of the very Holy Grail itself, a supreme device superior to any other in the world that could handle near-infinite power and accomplish the impossible without breaking apart. Without them, there would be no Holy Grail in place at all.

Naturally, each of the families had a talented representative participating in the Holy Grail War, with record-breaking talents that garnered the envy and fear of magi all over the world. For the Argus in particular, their representative was Jaselyn Argus, their one and only prodigal child who had become the centrepiece of their very legacy, having excelled in every art she'd been taught in and more. She specialized in magical mechanics and instantaneous construction, a true symbol of what the Argus were capable of, and there were even rumours that she had managed to obtain some information on the inner workings of the Hultgren.

"Hmmm. There were some amusing restrictions in place that got in the way of this, but the process of surpassing them was a lot simpler than I expected. It will still be some time before the other Masters will even begin preparing, so there's nothing to stop me. This is war... In other words, anything goes." The brown-haired young lady gloated to no one in particular, placing herself at the center of an empty room.

In front of her was a copper pillar, with three strange red symbols engraved upon it - artificial Command Seals, and below her was a ritual circle formed by the blood of sacrificed chickens. There had been a few problems in the way of an early summoning, namely the lack of an active Holy Grail, but she could supplement that temporarily via the conductor pillar channel she had painstakingly constructed in secret. Once her mother and father found out, they were bound to be extremely pleased.

"Even breaking the rules."

The catalyst was in her possession, and she knew all too well which class she intended on summoning. From here on out, it would be child's play to obtain information on the rest of the teams, then crush them as soon as they had finished summoning their Servant without bothering to go through any of the formalities of the previous three wars. Honestly, she couldn't understand why none of the other teams had considered doing this. Really, rather than a war, should her plan prove to be successful, it would be more of an extermination.

Everything had been going all according to plan so far, but just in case, she had her maid stationed outside the door, prepared to intervene in case any unexpected events happened. The maid's presence was unnecessary in all honesty, but one could never be too careful. Her mind needed to be as clear of paranoia as possible.

"Now then..."

Thus, she set the area around her on fire with a simple spell, before beginning to chant.

The pillar glowed, far brighter than the flames.

Excess mana leaked from it to fill up the air around them, mixing in with the ashes and the smoke.

Primordial energies were being prematurely absorbed into her magical construction, used to fuel the otherworldly ritual that was taking place far too early. Even amongst magi, it was clear that there was something wrong going on here, yet she, who had willingly initiated it, carried on with the utmost confidence in her skills.

In other words, even to the very end, she refused to acknowledge her own immaturity. No matter how talented she was, it couldn't possibly save her from this action of foolishness, this attempt at defying a power far beyond her imagining.

"H- h- henceforth, should there be a wish you desire...!"
 
Her body was burning, from the feet upwards.

"T- then heed my call, and m- m- materialize into this doomed land..."
 
Her soul was being consumed, every little piece of it, each and every one of her senses being utterly razed by an insurmountable divine force.

O' bearer of-"






Present Time


~ Theme of Juno/String & Piano Arrangement ~


The Argus Manor was empty, as it had been for some time now. The many artifacts stored within it, be they magical, mechanical, or both had been left all their own, and the air had seemed to gotten a little stale, although the interior seemed to remain curiously clean and managed despite the lack of life.

No... That wasn't quite correct.

A young girl with a blank, robotic expression, dressed in a maid outfit set the broom in her hands against the basement corner, having finally accepted the fact that she was doing something pointless. Her hands twitched as she did so, anticipating to be hit at any given moment, which would be accompanied by a high-pitched, pompous voice yelling in her ear "Why did you put down the broom, you stupid girl? This room isn't completely clean yet! Get back to work!", and she'd long since found out that responding with logic, such as pointing out that it would end up ruined again anyway after the ritual, only resulted in her being punished. It was not acceptable for her to make individual decisions after all. A servant must do their duty no matter what.

However, neither the hit nor the voice came forth. Of course not. The couple who'd once lived there had abandoned it on a plane flight all the way to Greece, having taken only their most prized possessions with them, fearing for their lives. Of course, it was impossible to predict when the Holy Grail War would begin, and they whom lacked any personal prowess in combat feared an attack by a Servant at any given moment. Her masters - should she be calling them her parents now? - were no longer around to give her any orders, and she hadn't seen them for quite some time now, yet she still expected them to reappear whenever she did something 'wrong'. Getting used to freedom wasn't easy.

She took a shaky breath, before moving onto the magical circle engraved in the center of the room's floor, formed by thick oil she'd taken from storage. Normally, these kinds of rituals called for blood, but oil was more than enough of an appropriate replacement, being a unique substance that formed from ancient life millions and millions of years ago. The essence of life at its finest, after having endured the pressure of the world's crust, collecting incredible amount of mystery along the way. This was the Argus way of doing things, and she had to stick to it.

Placing herself in the very middle, she stared off into space for a bit as if unsure of exactly what she was supposed to be doing. Then, wordlessly, she took out a match, set it alit, then dropped it onto the oil. The effect was instant. The flames spread throughout the lines she'd made, ultimately forming a circle of fire blazing all around her, trapping her within, the air heating up immensely. Within seconds, she was already feeling a little dizzy.

It made her feel slightly nostalgic of an event that happened not too long ago. She'd lost someone 'close to her', if it could be put like that, and in this very same room. Remaining firm nevertheless, the girl began to chant in a low voice, invoking a summoning ritual that should've been meant for somebody else.

"Let silver and steel be the essence."
Let stone and the archduke be the foundation."


Just as she started, a thought came to her mind. What was she doing there? Her hair was darker than ought to be expected of an Argus, and she certainly didn't possess the same qualities that the heir of the Argus Family, Jaselyn, had, her Magical Circuits being much more inferior in quality. She was only a servant, meant to serve, support, and protect the true heir, yet absolutely not fight in her place! A bastard taking her position in the Holy Grail War would be blasphemy!

"Let my full-blooded sister, the true heir, be the master I pay tribute to,
for I stand here in her place."


Ah, but Jaselyn Argus was dead. She could still remember it, that day which began like any other day, with the single noted exception of the young mistress being more enthusiastic than normal. She was placed on-guard outside, but then suddenly, an explosion happened from within the room. This exact same room. The intended representative perished without a fight, having been carelessly experimenting with an unstable magical artifact of her own design, which ended up exploding at point blank range. The catalyst was also found in there, curiously enough, unharmed - by some cruel joke, her corpse had fallen onto it, shielding it from further damage.

It was her death that forced the Great Family of the Argo to turn to their servant bastard Glauce Smith in desperation, removing her shackles and officially adopting her as Glauce Euphemus Argus. They may not have had much faith in her ability to win, but they still wanted to fight no matter what, leaving her with access to all the things a mere servant wouldn't normally have access to.

"Let rise a wall against the falling wind.
Let the four cardinal gates close.
Let the three-pronged path unto the kingdom's crown rotate."


The idea was basically this. 'You may not be the true heir, but you are still Argus by blood. As unacceptable as your existence is... You'll do.'

It had been so bizarre getting used to being able to do whatever she liked, freely roaming the manor and the rest of Crystalwater City, even being acknowledged by her father as his child, but she understood that it was all under a single condition - participate in Jaselyn's place, summon a Servant and win the Holy Grail War. When the Command Seals had formed themselves on her hand, this fact was only strengthened. She'd been raised to be the loyal maid who never spoke, whose sole duty was towards the honour of Argus, a capable yet disposable servant who was to throw her own life away for the true heir.

And yet here she was. Alive, free, and preparing for war.

"Let the grail be filled,"

The flames continued to burn oh so intensely, filling up the air with smoke and threatening to consume her into ashes should she so dare s to take a single step away from her position. Conducting the ritual like this was extremely dangerous, but it surely had to guarantee that she would bring forth a strong Servant even if she made any potential mistakes in the chant.

"again,"

It was hot.

"again,"

It was hot.

"again,"

It was hot.

"again,"

It was hot.

"again."

It was burning far too hot for her.

"Let it be filled sixfold, consequently melting with every filling."

The chant going on and on in a mechanical, systematic fashion, Glauce began to find it difficult to breathe within the ring of fire, getting dizzier whilst her voice weakened. The oxygen in the air was draining rapidly with each passing second, replaced by carbon dioxide and smoke. She had to shut her eyes tight since it was impossible to see anything, and the sweat was getting unbearable. At this rate, she may very well forget about fighting in the war, since she could die here and now. How on earth had her predecessors done it? Or was this pain the punishment she had to endure for being an impure Argus?

"To you, my servant, I declare with my soul as an offering:
My body is your puppet, my bone is your blood.
If you heed the call of the grail, then you have no choice but to answer me."


Just as Glauce was starting to lose consciousness, darkness attempting to consume her senses, she took out an enhanced stone from her pocket, and held it as tightly as she could so that the edge would press into her skin. Not to invoke any charm or anything, since there was a chance that those would, but merely so that the pain would keep her awake.

"My oath is to the station I am due, as head of my house,
and to the inevitable oblivion that await us all..."


She felt like choking, but there was only a few more lines left. She could do this. She had to do this.

"Henceforth, should be there be a wish you desire,"

Locking her eyes onto the catalyst, focusing on every aspect of it, she focused on the hero that awaited beyond this ritual. She visualized their history, their strength, their desires. It was said that while the relic certainly played an important role in the summoning of a Heroic Spirit, another aspect that came into play was compatibility with the summoner in question.

"Then heed my call and materialize into this doomed land,"

If that were true, then she hoped that she could bring forth someone who could understand her. Someone who could help give her a direction in life, who knew what it was like to spend their whole lives suffering meaninglessly, to champion a pointless existence with pride---!

"O' bearer of magic!"

As soon as the words came out of Glauce's mouth, all the fires were suddenly vaporized, and the room went completely dark. She collapsed onto her knees, like a puppet with its strings cut, exhaustedly panting. Just like that, it was finished. She'd made the connection, opening the gate for the entity she desired to come through. The temptation to drop onto the floor was high, but she did her very best not to give in, forcing herself to stay conscious. 
 
Nothing could be seen in this pitch-black cloak of darkness, but soon enough, an aura was beginning to make itself directly known before her. It seemed somewhat meager at first, but it rose and rose in intensity over time, until it became so overwhelming to her senses that she couldn't help but wonder how a being so tremendously powerful could possibly be in this world. This much mana concentrated in one place, no, in this single mysterious entity was beyond anything she thought possible. A few moments passed in silence, making the atmosphere seem eerier than ever. Even though she could quite clearly tell that there was an amazing power right here with her, she couldn't help but doubt its existence entirely. Nothing could be seen, and nothing was being said. Perhaps the ritual had failed, and what she was sensing was merely residue mana. Would it not be natural to think such a thing?

She decided, she had to see it. Only then would she know for sure if it had been a success. She took out a small amulet from her pocket, and it floated up into the air before emitting a white glow, lighting up the otherwise-lightless room. It wasn't much, but just enough to light the area.

Then,

Glauce found herself staring at the armoured figure standing before her. Her body was shaking, but whether it was in utter amazement or raw fear, she wasn't able to tell. An unfamiliar emotion was flooding throughout her whole body, not unlike a corruptive virus. Whatever was going on, at the moment, there was only one thing on her mind.

"Are you truly... Caster?"

Bec̡a̢use̶ i̴f̨ t͢hi̧s w̸as h̸e̛r̴ Ser͟va͟nt͢, t̬̫̩͖̩̟̺h̰͈̝̱͍͎̗̖͖͡e̯̺͇͕̕͢n̴̴͏̹̺̭̯̪̟̺ ̸̸̢͈̘t̼̟͈h̷͕́e̢̛̜y̲͓̮̭ ̧̥͕̼͉̀ḫ̥̜̳͍a͢҉̦̫̯̻̯̲̀v̤̯̩̤͢e͎̱̩͈̮̰ ̡̱̱̪͓̖̞̠̫͜ͅA̸̮̭̬ͅL̶̬̤̖͙̙̀R͇̭͚̬͘͠E͏̢̘͉A҉͔̕Ḓ̵͉̖̤̟̠͙͡͠ͅY̢̡͍̱̮̗̹̪̻̜͟ ̧̯̰͡W̶͚̻̼̬͎̣͓̞̠O͖̮̜̤ͅŅ̶͔̺͈̹͍̰̗.̺͙

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Call Your Heroes

 

As night began to settle on Crystalwater City one household on the outskirts of the city still stirred. Seemingly oblivious to the hustle and bustle within the mansion a single figure stood upon one of the household's many balconies utterly still except for the subtle rustle of his robes. This young boy did not shiver or retreat back into the mansion as the cold night air wrapped itself around, it had been perhaps more than a year since he'd been allowed to even exit the house, and he intended to enjoy every moment of it. From the mansion's position atop the hill the boy could see almost the entire city, and it's beautiful night lights.

 

"This is the last time these nights will blessed with such calm," the boy muttered to no one in particular, "the Holy Grail will begin and soon, and the rest of our nights will bathed in blood." The boy sighed as he turned to the noise inside the house, so discordant he couldn't be bothered to try and figure out what was the cause to each and every one of them. How annoying that his family wished to make such a large affair of what was in reality an insignificant event in the grand scheme of things. The robes he wore were evidence of just how much unnecessary pomp and circumstance his parents wished to inject into the ritual. They were his ancestor's robes worn for the very first summoning ritual when the Hultgren, along with the Blackmoore and the Argus, had founded the Holy Grail War, however the way the robes hung off of his tiny frame it was quite obvious that the robes where meant for somebody much larger than himself.

 

"Really the Mage's Association barely even acknowledges this archaic ritual anymore, however if I want to achieve my own goals I suppose even I have to play by the rules..." The Holy Grail. An ancient artifact that was said to have held the blood of Christ. Obviously the artifact that he would soon be competing against 7 other magi to obtain was not the same artifact, however it was an omnipotent wish granting machine able to replicate miracles. 

 

"Hmph..." the boy snorted. "Omnipotent wish granting machine... how base..." The idea that someone would use such a powerful artifact to for such a short sighted objective as granting a wish was pathetically laughable. His family's own object was almost equally laughable, their wish to reach Akasha the origin of all things past, present, and future. He had to admit however it was commendable that they at least had the foresight to think beyond their own base desires, however their goals were still yet to small, to insignificant to matter to him.

 

"Morgan it's time."

 

The voice snapped the boy away from his thoughts, and returned him to reality. Morgan Hultgren turned from his view on the balcony to his older brother who stood in the doorway. 

 

"I see." Shuffling forward with practiced grace Morgan strode through the halls of Hultgren mansion the heads of the numerous butlers and maids bowed low to their master. Down into the deepest depths of the manor Morgan finally reached the room he would be performing the summoning ritual in. Because of the mansion's airtight bounded field, which had severed the mansion's leyline's connecting point to the outside rendering them effectively unusable, years ago when they had first attempted the summoning ritual had been forced to construct a room specialized just for that task. The room was lined with small gems which, as soon as Morgan began to charge the summoning circle in the center of the room with his mana, would begin to pour forth mana that had been stored within them to supplement Morgan's own though he hardly needed it.

 

As Morgan took his place at the edge of the circle he watched as his aunts, uncles, cousins, and even his own parents discussed trivial matters that where of little importance Morgan. As if oblivious to him they continued their idiotic conversations, and Morgan was again reminded that to them, he was merely a tool. Once the war was over and Morgan had accomplished the task he'd been for he would be disposable. Likely he would be thrown away like yesterday's trash, as he was well aware that not only did his presence make the proud mages of the Hultgren feel inferior, but his upkeep was a massive drag upon the family's resources. And in the unlikely event that Morgan did lose... well he knew for certain that only death awaited him then. So as Morgan watched his shallow, careless family members he found happiness in the fact that they would soon have to watch the power the so desire slip through their sweaty little hands.

 

"Ahem..." Morgan made a coughing noise finally having grown tired of waiting, "I will begin the summoning ritual now." With insultingly patronizing smiles and comments the other slowly exited the room leaving him in peace. Come tomorrow morning the would all be gone and the house would be empty save for Morgan, his brother, and his brother's wife. However now was not the time to think on that, the ritual needed to be performed. Morgan raised his arms above his head and took a deep breath as the mana began to materialize in the room swirling around the summoning circle.

 

Song of the Ancients {Fate}

 

"Let silver and steel be the essence.

Let stone and the archduke of contracts be the foundation."

 

It was marvelous! Morgan felt the mana move through each part of his body like an intimate dance. Unlike many of the other magi of this age Morgan did hold his mana on a leash like some sort of animal to be commanded, nor did he beg it to come forth like some second rate magus. Not to him casting magecraft was a relationship, something he felt as though it part of his own body. Every undulation, every movement. Even the slightest change effected him in profound and explainable ways. 

 

"Let the true power which govern this world be the master I pay tribute.

Let rise against a wall against the wind that shall fall.

Let the four cardinal gates close.

Let the the three-pronged path unto the kingdom's crown rotate."

 

Morgan's chant had become almost a hymn now, a prayer up to the heavens to bestow him a Servant that would allow him to fulfill the desire in his heart. Clasping his hands together Morgan saw the materialized mana begin to glow a brilliant blue spinning faster and faster. For many this power was something to be feared, but to Morgan it was like the warm embrace of a mother beckoning him home. To him the mana was alive, and no matter how many times he had attempted to show the others they were to arrogant in their own power to realize this. The where fools to believe that they truly controlled the mana, to believe that they were lord and master over it. What a laughable idea that those simpletons could hold mastery over such a complex, and abstract force.

 

"Let it be filled. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again.

Let it be filled sixfold for every turn, simply breaking asunder with every filling."

 

Even Morgan's brother, who'd never been arrogant or proud, remained ignorant to the shift waves of mana he called upon every day. It was heart wrenching to watch the person he cared for most... no that wasn't quite right, the only person he cared for, be unable to see the absolute truth that Morgan had so easily realized. While Cario had accepted Morgan's words, he'd never been able to truly understand, never been able to truly feel what Morgan had. The boy knew that if they could see what was transpiring in the room the would be humbled by the force of nature before them... no this ritual had been performed many times before and yet still they remained ignorant. Perhaps it was not possible for them to see and feel the mana the Morgan did. Perhaps it was not possible for anyone at to truly understand it in the way intimate way Morgan did.

 

"I hereby declare that thou shalt come under my command: 

My soul shall be your flesh, and by your sword shall be my fate,

If thou dost abide the Holy Grail accede to this will and reason and answer me!"

 

Morgan's hands remained clasped as the brilliant blue became nearly blinding. A sensation unlike any other began to overcome him, and for once in his life Morgan felt truly alive. This wonderful feeling. It was the absolute truth by which all life abides. The soul which filled all living things. It was beautiful and Morgan was left breathless... the feeling of truly being one with the world. It occurred to Morgan only now that this feeling may also have been coming from the fact that the air was becoming quite difficult to breath, however he would not stop here.

 

"The oath that I swear here is to the virtue and beauty in all living beings,

And to the end of hubris and sin."

 

Morgan's eyes opened again. The ritual was almost over. At this point his voice had become reverent and soft. Is this what it felt like to be truly one with the world? Morgan could not describe the feeling that welled within him at this moment. It was as though he felt everything, and yet absolutely nothing at the same time. It was Nirvana! He felt as though each word he uttered destroyed him and made him whole again. This was genesis, the beginning of life.

 

"From the Seventh Heaven, holy bearer of the royal standard,

Arise and again pick up your righteous sword, Saber!"

 

The light increased in intensity all at once, and as Morgan completed the ritual a gust of wind rippled through the room, and Morgan fell to his knees. Twice in one day Morgan had been rendered speechless. Bathed in the blue glow of the residual mana stood a man in blue armour. No it was not right to call this person with such a majestic presence a mere man. No, he was more than a man. The powerful aura that resonated from his said as much.

 

"My Servant..." Morgan's words came out breathy, as though he was just learning how to speak, "Saber..."

 

Xvignette_zps578dff7a.png

 

Seven figures sat upon a lonely beach out of place and out of time. Many of them jested, throwing banter at one another. However one figure remained silent. This figure held a long iron lance, and dressed in mostly red save for his single white sleeve and the tights beneath his pants. At least that is what this figure would appear to look like to the other six.

 

This figure, his eyes lidded by the wide brimmed hat he wore, stared aimlessly outward as though he would find the answers to life hidden within the unknown beach's waters. Dejectedly the man sighed, and hung his head low. Was this what God had intended for him? To be reborn and to fight against heroes of old to claim a Holy Grail? Was this not blasphemous. He was thankful the other Servants had let him be alone with his thoughts, and to sort through the moral dilemma that now plagued his heart.

 

This "Holy Grail" had informed him... no informed was not quite the right word as the Grail was not a living things... no it had rather transplanted the knowledge into his mind that he would soon be summoned by a magi to participate in a battle royal known as the "Holy Grail War". What a laughable idea that the words "holy" and "war" should be combined in the same phrase. Another cruel irony added upon the fact that heretic witches would do battle for control over an artifact that belonged to the Lord Himself, and that he would soon be forced to serve one. And yet apparently this was not the same Grail that had once belonged to his Lord, but an artificial created "wish granting machine". 

 

Again the man sighed. This all seemed very much like the devil's craft. However he was not totally without hope. There must have been some reason his Lord had summoned him once again for things such as resurrection where not done with folly. Perhaps this mage who would someone him was someone of virtue who required his assistance. However Lancer's was not given longer to continue pondering this as a brilliant light engulfed him and suddenly the scene changed.

 

No longer was he on the beach. No this change of scenery was quite familiar to him. A church. Moments later his eyes rested upon a man slightly shorter than himself, primly dressed, and tan skinned.

 

"I see..." Lancer muttered, "so you are the witch who has summoned me. If so if I believe that your cause is righteous then my spear shall be yours to command, if not that I shall cut you down where you stand."

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Lance sat flat on his ass, huffing and wheezing as he gazed upon his servant.  She took a knee, and held her head down before addressing him.

 

"The goddess wills me to serve you, master, so we shall hunt with one another.  I am ____, the Assassin summoned forth for the Holy Grail War.  It is my honor to serve you.  Your will guides my bow, boy.  Direct my wrath." 

 

A huge grin spread across his face.  He took in a deep breath before he was able to utter out his pleasure!

 

"Wow...I actually freaking did it!  I really summoned a servant!  Wait...that means i'm actually in this thing huh?"  He became flustered, and almost had a panic attack right there in front of his new servant.  Trying to keep his composure, he analyzed her closely.  She was taller than him, and much more toned as well.  He would be sure not to get on her bad side.

 

On her back were two bows, one much larger than the other.  Confused, Lance tilted his head, his chest still convulsing as he tried to catch his breath.  "Strange...I could've sworn that I was summoning assassin this time around..."  She didn't really fit the part either.  What he read about Assassin's in previous Holy Grail Wars hadn't prepped him for this weird turnout.  

 

"You call yourself assassin as well...so nothing went wrong!  Yet...you more resemble one of the Archer class do you not?"

 

Oioawhs.png

 

He could feel his grip on this reality fade.  

 

"Well my friends, it seems this is where I part ways with you all!  Let us meet once again on the battlefield!"

 

 With that, Saber had disappeared from that realm, and was flung into reality.  Bound together by his spirit, and the mana of his master.  He took a moment to look upon himself.  Saber was drabbed in a dark blue and gray armor, the attire he wore back when he was still alive and well.  On his hip, a long sword was placed in a strange sheathe.  He brought his hands up to his face and stretched his fingers out.  He had forgotten what it was like to be whole...only being useful again when this artifact had deemed himself so.  He grinned.  He put his hand against his forehead and searched for his new master.  Of course he had already seen the dainty thing, but this was his first impression!  The perfect chance to show off his character.  

 

"Oh dear!  It seems I have been summoned, but wherever has my master run off to?"  He scouted the scene around him.  His tone was that of an actor who had only partaken in one role as the tree in a Shakespearean play.  Looking down at his master, he smiled.  "Oh, there you are!  Must not have seen you!  You are quite small if you don't mind me saying!"  His grin disappeared, and his demeanor became deadly serious.  He quickly took a knee and placed his hand over his heart.  

 

"I am ___.  The Holy Grail has summoned me as your saber."  He detached the sword from it's strap, still residing in it's sheathe and held it in front of his master.  "On my honor as a knight, I swear loyalty to you, and only you.  Together, let us claim victory my master!  My blade is yours!"  

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Elizabeth Blackmoore had spent a long time preparing for the summon. Her sister, after much insistence, had finally finished cleaning up the catalyst. A simple nod to Alexandra signified Elizabeth was ready to do the summon, and intended upon doing it herself. Her sister's concern was endearing, and she gave her a sad smile. Looking down to meet the smaller form of her sister, she spoke.

 

"Thank you, Alexandra. I appreciate what you've done, but I must do this on my own. I am well versed in the incantation, I assure you." She said, turning to the summoning circle. While it was true she wasn't a master necromancer, she was still versed in magic.

 

After Alexandra had left, Elizabeth began chanting the incantation. Her words as soft as a mouse, but held the authority of a lion's roar.

 

Let silver and steel be the essence.

Let stone and the archduke of contracts be the foundation.

Let God be the master I pay tribute to.

Let rise a wall against the following wind.

 

Elizabeth hesitated a moment, only for a feint moment. She did her best to remember the incantation. There was no room for error, and she refocused hersef, continuing the incantation.

 

Let the four cardinals gates close.

Let the three-pronged path to the kingdom's crown be opened.

 

Another momentary pause. Elizabeth could feel her words taking power. The symbol glowed, eminating magic and power. Mana flowed through her, manifesting itself into the magic from the seal. Elizabeth took a breath, again repeating the incantation from memory, as she had done so many times in preparation for this event.

 

Let the grail be filled, again, again, again, and again.

Let it be filled sixfold, simply breaking with every filling.

 

To my servant, I declare,

Let your arrows fly for a cause

Let your aim be pure as god himself

Aid me in my quest

Heed my call, and rise

Oh purest Archer

 

Her soft voice had grown progressively louder, like a beautiful symphony, slowly performing crescendo. When all was said and done, the symbol on the ground before her bloomed with a blinding white light, before a form manifested itself. Despite being rather tired from the summoning process, and quite drained, Elizabeth was happy it went smoothly. Her frayed nerves began to die down, giving her a sense of accomplishment. Without a word, she stood there for a moment, in awe of what she had just acomplished.

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As the other servants began vanishing one by one from the sandy shore, Rider continued to stare out into the ocean. When it was his turned to be summoned, the man took to examining his palm as it began to disintegrate into light particles. "Hm," Unable to find a word to match the sensation of being pulled from one realm to the next, Rider chose simply not to speak, only turning and nodding his goodbye to Castor before disappearing completely.

 

 

"Greetings. To not be rude, I will start this exchange with my introduction first. The name I have been bestowed to...I am Ayesha Cherrania Miracoutta, a magus of this age. If you have any questions, feel free to ask." When the light faded he was met with a woman's voice almost immediately. Instinctively brushing the dust off his coat, the man took a step forward before placing both arms behind his back. "Hello," He spoke flatly, though his gaze was razor sharp as it took in every inch of her form. Halting his analysis at the metallic substance that gleamed through several large holes that had been burned into her robe from the summoning ritual, Rider arched an eyebrow. 

 

Without warning his figure vanished in flurry of movement, only to reappear at  Ayesha's side with her arm firmly in his grasp. "As for questions..." Retaining his stoic expression, Rider brought the woman's skeletal hand up towards his face for a better look. "Let's start with the obvious."  

 

 

 

iU8EggM.png

 


 

"Hello, Master. The blood of our enemies shall flow through the lands!" Oh yea, definitely a Berserker. He could feel all of her magnificent power as the two gripped each-other's hands, and for a moment he didn't notice irregularity in her mana flow. Though when the initial pride and shock vanished and the boy retracted his hand from the woman's grip, he found himself closing his eyes and honing his senses around Berserker. He was right. Something wasn't right... 

 

The penthouse became silent as Oliver continued to inspect his servant with his sixth sense, gauging her magical circuits as well as her mana pool. Worried that their guest would be put off by her brother's sudden peculiar behavior, Despina opened her moth to scold him but fell silent as he spoke. "Master? Pffft, you can just call me Oliver." The boy reopened his eyes and flashed his servant one of his charming smiles, before shifting so that his sister was in sight. "And this is Despina... "

 

"It is a pleasure to meet you." Despina smiled at the other woman whilst she placed the expensive bottle on a tray along with the three glasses. "I am Oliver's elder sister, and will be aiding you two in the coming battles." Doing her best to appear causal, she eyed her brother's servant for any signs of aggression; knowing all too well the risks of summoning a rampaging Berserker at the top floor of the most popular hotel in town. Luckily the other woman seemed calm, meaning that there wouldn't be any unnecessary property damage or deaths for her to worry about right now... Which was good, because there would be due time for all of that when the war truly got start. 

 

"Come check this out, Berserker." As he spoke, the boy motioned for the two women to follow him as he made his way towards the door that led to his balcony. Allowing a grin to creep across his face, Oliver swung open the door dramatically before gliding outside into the crisp night air, causing Despina to roll her eyes at his dramatics. "This place will serve as our fortress- your home." Allowing Berserker a moment to take in the spectacular view of the CrystalWater skyline, the boy grabbed the bottle and two glasses from his sister's tray to pour a cup of the Piper family's famous elixir for both him and his servant. "Welcome to Piper Towers!" He smiled before offering Berserker a glass of the swirling cyan liquid. "Drink up... It will restore some of the mana you seemed to have lost during the summoning." Though he tried not to show it, Oliver was extremely worried about what he saw during his inspection and prayed that the elixir would remedy the situation before the war started. 

 


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The scenery of the beach suddenly faded out as she felt the familiar sensation. Engulfed in a cloud of mana, Archer gave off one last prideful smile to everyone else present there, before fading away completely.

 

“…”

 

Archer opened her eyes. Her summoning had just been concluded, and before her was the person that had just summoned her. A relatively young girl…oddly reminded her of someone she couldn’t exactly remember. No…it’s not just that. The place felt familiar for one reasons or another, but she couldn’t exactly remember about anything about it.

 

But…there’s another feeling that soon overwhelmed the feeling of familiarity. The aura of the place. What lies on every nook and crannies of the place, floating and polluting its air. It’s almost sickening, and had it not for her status as a heroic spirit, she probably would’ve choked to death.

 

She had been summoned into the sanctuary of the wicked. Had it not be her Master’s place or the fact that she was there in front of her, she would have torn the place apart. Nevertheless, Archer sighed after learning her predicament, and lit up a bright flame on her palm to illuminate the workshop further.

 

“Answer me, young magus. Dweller of this wicked palace, tell me one thing.

 

Do you really believe that you are worthy of being my Master?”

 


 

“Lady Ayesha…she sure is a hardworking person, isn’t she?”

 

For Calialia, as much as she could not actually comprehend the entity that had just kicked her out of the room, she couldn’t say that she’s unfamiliar with her. In fact, Calia believed herself to be someone that known about her the most. She had seen everything about her, after all.

 

From the moment she was born, Calia had been designated to serve the phantom heiress of the family in any way she could. She was made for that single purpose, and she had complete awareness of her fate of being disposed of once this war is over. Born with a will of her own, yet had to discard everything to fulfill her purpose as a tool in her mistress’ hands. Desire, needs, dignity, pride, pleasure, satisfaction – all of those had to be discarded if she wanted to be the perfect servant.

 

Her mistress was a shrewd woman. Cold upfront, rarely talks, but she had a certain feeling of warmth with her anytime she did speak. Calia was aware that a lot of people, both older magi and her students, looked up to her due to this warmth and her apparent wisdom. Yet, she was also aware that it’s simply a front her mistress painstakingly tried building around her. A selfish brat in heart, at times Calia couldn’t help but to see her mistress as a sort of younger sister that she had to take care of. She did things on a whim, and quite emotional and bitter at times, as she had just shown earlier when the mistress kicked her out of her workshop due to taking way too long in preparing the catalyst.

 

“That one’s just my fault, though.

 

Maybe she’d scold me later after knowing what I did. After all, the mistress seems to be pretty harsh when it comes to anything about this war…hopefully she survived that.”

 

That flames in her eyes. Something that worried Calia the most whenever she looked at her mistress was her single-minded determination related to this war, if that is even the right way to describe what was being reflected on her empty eyes. From what she could see, Calia felt that her mistress possessed a good heart, and she had little reason to doubt its existence so far. Yet, being the person that was closest to her, Calia also knew what kind of things her mistress would do just for the sake of winning this. It’s as if she’s someone else completely.

 

A series of painful, loud screeching noise could be heard. The sound of her mistress trying her best to mimic breathing. Intrigued by a certain kind of curiosity, Calia peeked at the events inside the closed room using her scrying ward. She could see her mistress in all of her…lack of glory. In fact, she looked pathetic from her perspective. That “woman” couldn’t and shouldn’t be called a woman anymore. That “magus” would have as much similarity to a proper magus as a worm could be called a human. That rusted hunk of metal couldn’t even be called alive!

 

“…” Calia clenched her fists viewing the sight. An unfamiliar emotion crept inside of her as she watched the scene before her. Instead of trying to resist the alien feeling, the maid chose to relinquish her resistance and revel in that feeling. It felt like something she should feel, after all.

 

The sight of that woman infuriated Calia.

 

Ayesha Cherrania Miracoutta.

 

A walking corpse from a dying, cursed family. A walking corpse that had made Calia’s life a living hell since the day she was born. A walking corpse that everyone else loved for little to no reasons at all. A rotting corpse that couldn’t see her as nothing but a tool that could easily be replaced – a tool that only exist to fulfill her whims. A mockery of both nature and magecraft that could only think of her little war game with other insignificant existences.

 

A corpse that she had to tend every single hour in every single days of the week. A corpse that could and would break her apart if it could see that act as a method of relaxation. A corpse that is more or less a mindless beast during every other days of the week and had to be tranquilized before she would kill herself in her madness. A corpse that only saw her as a meat doll, a portable mana station, a scratching pole, and something even lower than a slave.

 

A mistress that could never say any appreciation to her. A mistress that only take things for granted. A mistress that couldn’t give her an earnest smile. A mistress that gave warmth to everyone else but her. A mistress that couldn’t see. Couldn’t feel. A mistress that couldn’t care. No matter how many times she tried to please her, no matter how  much she supported her, no matter how many times she saved her, no matter how many times she offered herself as her tool, no matter how many times…

 

She couldn’t even hear any single word of gratitude ever.

 

As Calia could barely hold her frustrations back, the ritual that Ayesha initiated unfolded before her. The robed magus entered the circle drawn using Calia’s blood, and stared for some moments at the catalyst – a worn out emblem of sort. A screeching sound could be heard again, and then the incantation was initiated.

 

"Let silver and steel be the essence.

Let stone and the archduke of contracts be the foundation.

Let my selfish thirst be the master I pay tribute to.”

 

“…Wasn’t it all enough? What did I do wrong, mistress? Am I not enough for you? What do you even seek with this? Why…why couldn’t you just be satisfied with all of this and just live your life peacefully? Just forget about this stupid war, please!”

 

Calia knew however, that she couldn’t get her mistress to hear her. Nor she could stop something that had already been put in motion. And even if she could hear her, she would just dismiss her as always. Nothing more than a tool, nothing important. Calia hoped that at least, what she had done earlier could actually take effect soon.

 

“Let rise a wall against the wind that falls

Let the four cardinal gates close.

Let the three-pronged path of the crown towards the kingdom be opened.”

 

Why did she keep on serving her anyway? Calia could just stop her frustrations if she just leave through the front door and be done with this. She still had one month to be alive, so why waste it on someone that she knew wouldn’t care at all if she left? Ayesha couldn’t even appreciate any of her attempts to cheer her up. Her pranks were at best resulting in a scolding or physical punishment, or worst completely disregarded. Calia knew that she shouldn’t let her mistress let her obsession with the War be fulfilled, which was why she kept on trying to sabotage her attempts. But Ayesha kept on stubbornly doing it. That disgusting determination in her eyes couldn’t be put out no matter how hard Calia tried.

 

Yet despite all of that, Ayesha still kept her around. A defective tool, that caused her a lot of troubles. Being born to be the perfect maid, she was created with a defect. Her will was not something that should be there. A perfect maid shouldn’t be selfish after all. Such excess things such as independence should not be in their mind. But she still had it.

 

And she kept being on her mistress’ side all these times despite of it.

 

“Perhaps I’m just an idiot.”

 

“Let the grail be filled, again, again, again, again, again, and again.”

 

Even just from her screen, Calia could feel the intense pressure of mana inside the workshop as her sabotage attempt finally took its effect. Blue flames danced around the inner circle, and started to spread out. Left and right, books and artifacts Calia had gathered for her mistress’ researches in this war started to catch fire. Yet her mistress stood firmly still. The flames in her eyes still burn brighter than what had started to consume her workshop.

 

“Let it be filled sixfold, simply breaking asunder with every filling.”

 

It was as if everything was normal to her. Even being threatened to be burned to ashes didn’t deter her. Calia wanted to yell at how stupid it was. She wanted to yell so her mistress could stop the ritual at once and get out before she’d die, even if Ayesha would just beat her up again out of frustration. The door weren’t reinforced in any means – maybe she could break it with one good swing and drag Ayesha out…

 

“As your master, I shall tell.”

 

No, she couldn’t do that. Ayesha, despite anything else, was still her mistress. Despite…no, because she had her free will, she had chosen to serve her no matter what. Betraying her logic by choosing to keep staying on her side. Hence, right now, once more she had to betray her own thoughts for the sake of her mistress’ desires.

 

                                   “My soul is your vessel, my existence is the one carrying your will.

If you heed the call of the grail, then you shall answer me.”

 

The fire burned through Ayesha’s robes, revealing the skeletal structure underneath it. As used she was to the sight, Calia still had to keep herself from vomiting at the sight. Ayesha however, didn’t slow down or be deterred at all. She looked like she was aware that she had slightly botched the ritual, but was still adamant enough that she could finish it flawlessly. Her magic circuits manifested along her mechanical body as she continued with her incantation.

 

“My oath is to break the sanctity of this godforsaken war, to end a long-resting dream!

So ride into this battlefield, tamer of the iron beast!"

 

And just like that, the ward she put up broke from the raging flames around the summoning circle, and out of panic, Calia rushed to the door and break it, only to see the fire had just subsided, with her mistress looking completely unfazed as if nothing unusual happened. Before her was a man. A sharply dressed man with a sense of seriousness on his expression. Completely contrary to the sheer amount of pressure the ritual made earlier, the man didn’t seem to possess that much mana with him – though it’s still above what Calia could manage. He looked quite charismatic, and his demeanor was that resembling a gentleman, from a glance.

 

The Rider that Ayesha kept talking about had appeared.

 

Ayesha moved forward, and introduced herself to her Servant. Her tone was respectful towards the figure, but he only replied in a flat manner. His gaze was sharp, and Calia could see that he’s currently analyzing her mistress. Then, in a blink of an eye, he had appeared on her mistress’ side and started to examine her skeletal metal hand more closely. Ayesha herself didn’t seem to be bothered by his motion, but Calia almost jumped forward instinctively.

 

“Calia, who gave you the order to be here? Return to your position at once.”

 

“But-!”

 

“Also, I know you’re trying to sabotage this ritual earlier during the preparation stage. This ritual would not produce such amount of excess mana if it went through normally. I’ll make sure to address this personally to you later in more detail, but now is not the time.

 

Get out of my sight at once.” Her voice was cold as she once again dismissed Calia. The maid attempted to protest, but relented at the last second before leaving the scene.

 

“Pardon me for that. She’s just too impulsive for her own good.

 

So, you are asking about my Mystic Code? I am sorry to disappoint you, but I don’t think this is something I should explain to you now. It's not something too secretive, it's just the explanation would take a long time, and I am still drained.”

 

Though, despite of her reply the magus smiled at Rider’s curiosity about her, and proceeded to disrobe herself to reveal what’s beneath it fully. Her extra arms spread out from near her chest, and on the skeletal structure, the trace of recently manifested magic circuits could still be seen, though they faded soon afterwards.

 

“I doubt you can call me a human anymore, but details like that shouldn’t matter.

 

The Grail War is starting. You can ask other questions to me later, but now, we need to finish the contract binding us together.

 

I am your Master, and you are my Servant. I know who you are, and you would soon know about who I am.

 

And together, we will win this war."

 

iU8EggM.png

 

“I hate her. I hate her so much. I hate her...

 

But, I will keep on serving her. Since she couldn’t give me warmth, I’ll keep her warmth instead. If she couldn’t appreciate my existence, I’ll make her appreciate it. If she couldn’t say thanks, if she thought she doesn’t need me, if she couldn’t care about me, I’ll keep caring for her. For her, so she could even show me any kind of warmth she gave to others, I’ll be her tool.

 

I’ll tend to her as if she’s my own mother. I’ll protect her as if she’s my little sister. And, if the time comes, I’ll be the one to put her down before she could do it herself.

 

For now however, if this War is what she wished, then so be it.”

 


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Berserker looked as the boy almost fell unconscious after touching her. To be fair she should have known better to actually touch him after he had completed the ritual. To be in her presence was already a large toll, but she smiled at the young lads moxy. 

"Master? Pffft, you can just call me Oliver."

 

Berserker looked on as she her master revealed his name and the name of his sister. Berserker immediately nodded at the female warrior. To have a woman helping them put a smile to her face. Female warriors were somewhat a rarity in her time. As Beserker felt herself being eyed and scanned she did her best to hide a snicker. Clearly the title of Berserker was something that warranted all of this extra caution. So be it she thought. However as this Oliver chap continued to lead her around she began to feel slightly stiff. She realized that she wasn't actually on the ground. But how could this be? 

"This place will serve as our fortress- your home."

 

The boy showed her the magnificent view from above and needless to say Berserker was visibly shocked. She had never seen a view so clean...so different from her home land. It was enough to bring tears to her eyes. If she was weak enough to show emotion like that. However this made something else noticeable...She was very high off the ground level. She looked down and immediately stepped back from the window. Okay...is all she could mutter as the culture shock surged through her like a lightning bolt. Piper Towers he called it. It seemed that Berserker would have to be taught a lot on this new world and all of this new found technology. If this is how advanced the living structures of this day were...imagine the weapons. 

Drink up... It will restore some of the mana you seemed to have lost during the summoning."

 

After drinking Berserker felt her mana instantly start to replenish. This time she couldn't hide her emotions she was genuinely impressed by how perceptive and resourceful this Oliver was. She cracked her knuckles and a hint of blood red lightning tinkled in her eyes and she looked at her master and his sister. 

 

I see you two are quite resourceful and it appears that even by this new world's standards you are wealthy. I am humbled by the lack of knowledge I have about your time and as your servant I seem to only be useful as a blunt instrument. Berserker's gaze turned stern. But I swear to you. I will be the bluntest instrument and will yield only the best results. None of our enemies shall prosper before us! She yelled as she held her cup up high. Now Ma...Oliver and Despina, I wish to see how proficient you are in combat and naturally I too must prove myself so you know you mana does not go to waste. Unless you have other questions for me. 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Witch...Tristan said somewhat fatigued and annoyed. He then chuckled. Well actually now that I think about it that is a very apropos way to refer to me. Tristan looked at his servant who was slightly taller than him and had a special air of Holiness about him. Well we should really get going before random parishioners come in for some kind of morning prayer. He waved his hand and it seemed as his summoning circle disappeared before him as he escorted his servant outside of the church.

While walking down the road he laughed and he thought it was best to address some formalities. First, just so you know my name is Tristan de la Mancha and I guess I'll be using you to hopefully kill people. While I hate the concept I guess we can make the best of it. Hopefully we can get together with the other master's and figure out some other way to avoid this all together, but just in case you look like you can hold your own. Second, that killing me thing is not allowed. According to this little hand book I have, these command seals are supposed to help me keep you in check. So in theory they say you should use one to keep your servant from killing you. I say meh to that. If I ever fall to the enemy in some way beyond my control...take me out I've lived a great life...Was hoping to make it past 50 but becoming one with the universe isn't so bad. 

Tristan looked at his summoned servant and realized they were back at his apartment. So I think you're going to need some better clothes to blend in with. The church we were just gave me all of there lost and found boxes. I think you'll find something there...unless you want to go shopping. 

Tristan sat down as he got on the phone and dialed the Mages Association Sanctuary to let them know that he summoned his servant. So you do you have any questions for me? He asked of his servant.

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If the fact that the others had begun vanishing from that place was anything to go on, some of them making comments about seeing the rest in the living world, then it seemed that this conflict had finally gotten going. One by one they left, until he was alone on that beach. He wondered, momentarily, if there was no master to call him. He laughed at the thought, recalling something that had happened before. Simply because of the strange, timeless nature of this realm he could not be certain how long it had been, but indeed he had felt the call before.

 

It was different that time. No powerful device had called forth his soul with a promise so rich that he could not refuse, and he had not been sitting in this damnably boring place on the shore of an endless sea. The first time he had been called, the summons that he had refused, had disturbed the afterlife he had been enjoying. He could not accurately recall where he had been, but when he had been called it was to a warm darkness that he awakened. Pressing in around him from all sides, in a way that he likened to the comforting embrace of a mother. This was a place he would have enjoyed staying in for the rest of eternity, much the same as a child being roused from his sleep had no desire to rise from his bed. However, a nagging voice and piercing light had refused to allow him the chance to rest. When he roused himself, and looked upon the one calling him through that breach they had made in the darkness, what did he see?

 

A fair face, framed by dark hair and lit by the light of the flames around her as much as by some strange arcane device. While initially he had thought of her in terms akin to those he had been fond of in life, the more he looked upon her the more he found to scorn. Everything about her, from her obnoxiously perfect robes to her unblemished skin made it obvious that she had not worked for any of the power and privilege at her command. The more he looked, the more he saw her, the damnable whore that was in many ways responsible for denying him his birthright. It even became obvious that whatever was happening here was cheating some sort of system, the incantation made mention of a grail and he could detect no such thing.

 

Both because that foolish girl was so very much like those he had scorned in life, and she was attempting to steal her right to command him, he had refused her call. He did nothing but watch as the fool's chosen fuel for the summoning set her ablaze, and he even laughed when that glorious fraud she had created eventually exploded. She certainly seemed to have attracted more attention than his own, and had paid dearly for it. Now, as he felt another call beckoning him into the living world, he considered that perhaps he could have saved that foolish girl from the fruits of her own hubris. It brought a smile to his face, as he considered just how much she had truly deserved to die like that.

 

"There might be something to this 'Divine Justice' thing after all." His own voice sounded like little more than a whisper to him at this point. This strange world he was in was fading out of focus, the cool breeze against his skin little more than the faintest tingling across his skin. Every sound faded into a muted buzz, the colors of the scene around him faded inexorably into black, and even the taste of the salty spray faded. He was left standing, unable to perceive anything around him. The strange darkness, and yet not darkness, that he had felt as he faded into death surrounded him once again. For a moment he considered that his prospective master had failed to summon him, but then he heard it.

 

"To you, my Servant, I declare my soul as an offering:

My body is your puppet, my bone is your blood.

If you heed the call of the grail, then you have no choice but to answer me."

 

She was right in that regard. He had already made his choice to be summoned, long before she had ever called him through the grail, and this was simply a fulfillment of the contract. This pleasant voice cut through the silence around him like a blade, and slowly his other senses faded back into being. He felt a warmth... no, and incredible heat in the room to which he was summoned. He smelled, and tasted, a thick and bitter smoke that surrounded him on all sides and made it difficult to breath. He saw the inside of his own eyelids, finally aware that he had closed them, and opened them to see his master.

 

"My oath is to the station I am due, as head of my house,

and to the inevitable oblivion that awaits us all..."

 

He saw her, and did not see what he expected. She was not dressed finely in robes, as the heads of mage families often did. Her skin was not bereft of unsightly marks and blemishes, and she did not carry herself with arrogance. While superficially she resembled a woman he hated, closer looks revealed her to be otherwise. She had faced hardship all her life, and he could pick out a few things here and there on her face that bore resemblance to the other one who had tried to call him. 

 

"Henceforth, should there be a wish you desire,

Then heed my call and materialize into this doomed land,"

 

It was subtle things. The angle of her chin, the set of her cheek bones, something about the shape of her nose. Yes, enough to say there was a familial resemblance. Yet there was also enough difference in them that he could not quite make sense of... unless... what were the odds of that? Still, it was the only option that explained everything. However unlikely it was, it had to be true because he could account for the differences no other way.

 

"Oh bearer of magic!"

 

The force of the ritual's completion, of his total manifestation into the world, blasted away the flames and the smoke. With the only source of light in the room extinguished, he entered the world in total darkness. It was disorienting, even for him, to be without light when that which had been there before was so very very bright. So he began reaching outward, letting some of his excess mana wash over the room in the hopes of prompting a response. The sudden production of a faint, white light onto the room around him and his mistress was all the answer he needed. Through the visor of his helm he looked out upon the woman dressed in servant's clothes, and knew that she was worthy.

 

"Are you truly... Caster?" An apt question for her to ask, all things considered. He did not remotely look like a mage, clad in such heavy armor as he was with a sword at his hip and a shield on his arm. There were many ways that he could answer her, but there was one which he decided was more fitting than the others. With his left hand, the one not currently occupied with holding his shield, he reached up and grasped his helmet. With almost ritualistic care and slowness he removed it, and allowed it to fall upon the ground at his feet with the heavy sound of metal striking stone.

 

"I am." He stated, stepping across the scorched ground towards his mistress. The illusion that had been bound in his helm faded quickly, and a number of changes occurred. The face of his kite shield was no longer plain and unadorned, for heraldry had appeared upon it. Its face bore a two-headed eagle in gold upon a purple field, and a white bar over the top of it. His cloak, once red, now became a deep purple to match the heraldry upon his shield. His face, no longer hidden behind his helm, held all the nobility of his father's line and was framed by long locks of dark hair with a trimmed, pointed beard upon his chin. He may well have been handsome, so very very handsome indeed, were it not for something terribly cruel lurking just behind his dark eyes. 

 

"And you," he began, now standing just before the woman who had summoned him, "must be my mistress." There was something about his voice, a curiosity of its mellow timbre, that might just have the girl feeling calm and secure around him. "And as such you are owed a proper introduction. I am Mordred Pendragon, rightful King of the Britons. In this Holy Grail War I am summoned as Caster." As he finished, he reached to grip the hilt of his sword with his left hand and drew it. That gleaming, silver blade, every bit as perfect as its golden sister Excalibur, he drew and held before his face for a moment. It glimmered with its own light, a faint and baleful red shining from within. "The ritual of summoning is binding, this is true, but I feel you are owed something else."

 

And so, he fell to one knee before her and bowed his head. His right arm slipped out of the straps of his shield, and he raised it before him along with his left. The blade of his sword settled into his right palm, and his grip on its hilt loosened as he knelt. "As I have sworn to no other, I swear to thee. So long as thou art worthy, I shall serve. So long as thou doth not make thyself mine enemy, I shall destroy those who stand against thee. So long as though doth seek to claim thine birthright, I shall work to deliver it into thine hands."

 

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"I see you two are quite resourceful and it appears that even by this new world's standards you are wealthy. I am humbled by the lack of knowledge I have about your time and as your servant I seem to only be useful as a blunt instrument. Berserker's gaze turned stern. But I swear to you. I will be the bluntest instrument and will yield only the best results. None of our enemies shall prosper before us!" Oliver watched as Berserker brought her glass up high, though his mind was somewhere else. Even after drinking the potion, something about her mana flow still wasn't right... "Now Ma...Oliver and Despina, I wish to see how proficient you are in combat and naturally I too must prove myself so you know you mana does not go to waste. Unless you have other questions for me."

 

The boy's eyes widened at this. Five minutes in this plane of existence and she already wanted to fight him?! "Hmm, a test, huh?" As he spoke Oliver shifted his gaze towards Despina, who seemed to be brandishing the same skeptical expression. Truth be told, he didn't believe he had a shot in hell against a servant in his current state, but he was also well aware of the fact that this Berserker was someone who's respect was much easier earned through combat. "Doesn't look like a have much choice..." With a sigh, Oliver began loosening the collar of his shirt and rolling up his sleeves. "It'd be just plain rude if I didn't accommodate my guest, right?

 

"Though we should be high enough above the guest levels to not cause a disturbance, I'd like to ask that we keep the collateral damage to minimum if at all possible." Whilst her brother prepared himself for battle, Despina addressed both him and his servant with a stern expression. "Do I make myself clear, you two?" Her sharp gaze passed between both their faces as she placed her tray on a nearby table.

 

"It's not like I'll be staying up here during the war anyway..." Oliver turned to face Berserker and jokingly rolled his eyes at his sister's authoritative demeanor. Apparently even Heroic spirits weren't above being bossed around by the blonde tyrant. "Anyway..." Oliver continued before raising his glass up to his lips and chugging it's glowing contents.

 

The effects of the elixir were instant, and although it wasn't enough to put him back in full swing, the air around the lad shifted ever so slightly as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "Let's get this little dance started!" In that instant, Oliver's eyes narrowed to reveal the cold calculating gaze of a true Piper family prodigy. Though Berserker would only get a short glimpse of this before the boy's figure was suddenly swept backwards into the room by an amassment of cyan mana particles that had been gathered around his feet, leaving Berserker and his sister face to face.

 

With her brother no longer in the way, Despina wasted no time in bursting into action. "Nimbus." Having been focusing on gathering mana particles whilst Oliver was readying himself for this confrontation, the blonde decided to let her ability be known and allow her mana to form a cloak of shimmering blue energy. "Let's see if you're worthy enough to serve my family..." She glared at Berserker with glowing eyes as a loud crash sounded from inside the Oliver's room.

 

Using his sofa to halt the momentum of his Winds of Icarus, Oliver brought himself to a sliding halt in the back of the room before placing his foot atop his expensive furniture turned cover. "Berserker," He called out to his servant with a grin whilst forming a glowing bow and arrow with the surplus of mana being pumped into the building. "catch!" Shutting his left eye to line up the shot, Oliver sent his arrowing flying through the room, watching with anticipation as projectile whizzed past Despina's head, only to detonate in a blinding light before meeting Berserker.

 

Wise to Oliver's tricks, Despina shielded her eyes with her arm to negate the trick arrow's blinding effect. With no intention of giving their opponent time to react, she shot forward with surprising speed before leaping into the air to meet Berserker with an inhumanly powerful roundhouse kick just as two more arrows came flying from the opposite side of the room.

 

iU8EggM.png

 

 

“I doubt you can call me a human anymore, but details like that shouldn’t matter.

The Grail War is starting. You can ask other questions to me later, but now, we need to finish the contract binding us together.

I am your Master, and you are my Servant. I know who you are, and you would soon know about who I am.

And together, we will win this war."

 

Rider watched his mistress with his usual expression, though the man's gaze seemed to have softened ever so slightly. This woman had piqued is interests, and that was feat in itself. "You shouldn't be so dismissive with your allies." He allowed his gaze to drift off to where the homunculus had made her exit. Surely this would have sounded a tad hypocritical given his aloof nature, but he didn't care much for trying to maintain any kind of consistency with his perceived image; he said what he thought when he thought it.

 

"Regardless..." Moving his grip past Ayesha's wrist, Rider took her skeletal fingers into his gloved hand with surprising delicacy. In a single fluid motion, Rider fell to his knees before raising his free hand to his chest with a clenched fist balled tightly over his heart. "Ayesha Cherrania Miracoutta," His tone was still stoic, yet something about the way he uttered her name was oddly warm and almost comforting. "It matters not what the people of this time consider human." As he spoke, the man bowed his head before his mistress, her cold metallic hand still in his grasp. "The fact that the Grail has summoned me to your side is proof enough of your humanity for this man. With this oath, I pledged to you my loyalty. With my steed, I shall crush all those who appose you..." As he spoke, Rider brought his gaze up to meet Ayesha's. "As for this day forth, The Black Baron shall ride for you alone, my mistress." Sealing the contract with a kiss on his mistress's hand, Rider brought himself to his feet before removing his trench coat.

 

Without waiting for consent, he then proceed to drape the heavy piece of clothing around her shoulders to cover her skeletal form. "Now, what will you have me do?" Placing his hands his back, Rider stood perfectly straight as he waited for his master's word.

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"You shouldn't be so dismissive with your allies."

 

"Perhaps. After all, without her I wouldn't even be able to be here and participate in this war. Just...at times it felt that she's going out of her way just to annoy me personally, like the attempted sabotage of your summoning earlier.

 

I don't know about the thoughts residing on her mind, to be honest. Perhaps the defect in her creation caused this."

 

Ayesha kept her composure as Rider continued to inspect her. She could say that the way he stared at her had cooled down significantly from earlier.

 

"Regardless..." Seemingly done inspecting her hand, Rider then did a gesture of politeness before her. "Ayesha Cherrania Miracoutta," That was warmer than what she thought she would hear. "It matters not what the people of this time consider human." He now bowed towards her, one of his hand still holding her metallic hand. The gesture of respect eased Ayesha from the tension of situation, and she kept her smile, though with more ingenuity now. "The fact that the Grail has summoned me to your side is proof enough of your humanity for this man. With this oath, I pledged to you my loyalty. With my steed, I shall crush all those who appose you...

 

As for this day forth, The Black Baron shall ride for you alone, my mistress." Sealing the contract with a kiss on his mistress's hand, Rider brought himself to his feet before removing his trench coat. Then, in a gesture of kindness, Rider covered her bare body with the robe she had dropped earlier.

The man's mannerism pleased Ayesha, who continued to stand still on her position. In her preparation for this war, she had planned to summon a certain kind of Heroic Spirit to help her. A figure possessing barely any Mystery trait as a way to bring an unexpected trump card to the table against the old-schooled and conservative magi. A figure possessing great knowledge of tactics, and most importantly, a figure capable of unleashing as much amount of destruction as possible in a short time without any hesitation.

 

And this Black Baron is the perfect candidate.

 

"Now, what will you have me do?"

 

"Alright, I'll-"

 

A ringing sound interrupted her words. Looking somewhat exasperated due to the sound ruining the moment for her, Ayesha had one of her arms out of the robe, with a ringing smartphone on it. The magi did a gesture towards Rider to ask for pardon, before withdrawing a bit back to answer the call.

"Lady Ayesha, the materials you ordered had arrived. The material delivery had been spread on the other four of our surface bases as you have detailed in your instruction."

 

"Anything suspicious going with it? And, is there any mismatch with the exact list of my order?"

 

"Nothing so far, milady."

 

"In that case, finish the paperworks, and start working on those. And, once again, stop messing around. This is not the time for jokes."

 

"Understood, miss."

 

The call was then cut at that point. Tucking the phone back into her robe, Ayesha returned to Rider's side, looking somewhat more triumphant than before after the call.

 

"I am sorry for that interruption. It was my servant, bringing a good news for us.

 

As for what we're going to do now, a change of plans would be necessary in light of that recent news. Surely you don't mind if we take a trip around the city now, don't you?"

 


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For some reason, Glauce found herself unable to move. Her strings were cut, and now she, the marionette, had fallen to the ground without any way to stand back up. Well, if she thought about it logically. she was exhausted, and sweating like never before from the heat, and fully drained of mana, so it only made sense...

 

However, that was not the reason she could not move.

 

~ Moonlight Sonata 1st Movement - Opus 27 No. 2 ~

Up until that moment, she had never truly understood what it meant to fight in the Holy Grail War. She understood the rules, she knew the history, she comprehended how it was meant to play out, but just like how reading about driving a car wasn't nearly the same as actually physically driving one, it was all mere words, hollow and empty. The thing was that no matter how much she read through old myths and history books, they couldn't have possibly prepared her for this one moment, when she had to let a special guest enter the manor of the Argus.

 

"I am." The figure spoke to her, taking off his helmet in the process. Her tired eyes could only barely focus upon him, but whatever doubts were there had since been cleared away.

 

For before her was a man unlike anything she'd ever seen, standing in this very room. What was it about him? Even though the sound of his voice revealed little emotion, she found that she could perhaps understand what that was like. And as for his appearance, she'd expected something more akin to an old robed hermit. Instead, she had been granted a mysterious knight, not in shining armour, but in dark, menacing armour that seemed to oppose the very concept of chivalry. He appeared more like a Saber or Rider, and in fact, she would've been far from surprised if he turned out to be Berserker. Although he had the form of a human being, the sheer aura surrounding erased any doubts of him being anything but a Servant, a hero whom had achieved great feats in ancient times, a legend whose power had bent the very fabric of history, permanently embedding himself into the words of humanity. That was the kind of entity she had brought forth into the modern world, to participate in the Holy Grail War.

 

"And you," Now he stood directly before her, coming fully into focus within her field of vision, "must be my mistress."

 

Yet, despite it all, she found herself still doubting. Was he referring to her? Or was there someone else in the room that he was speaking to?

 

"And as such you are owed a proper introduction. I am Mordred Pendragon, rightful King of the Britons."

 

She did not recognize the name per se, but she needn't have. Merely by looking at him, she had a feeling as to what sort of person he might've been in life.

 

"In this Holy Grail War I am summoned as Caster. The ritual of summoning is binding, this is true, but I feel you are owed something else."

 

Afterwards, he drew that silver blade, cold and deadly, perfectly forged like a miracle of construction, yet with an ominous aura that matched his own. It glimmered with a faint red colour that was almost reminiscent of blood.

 

"As I have sworn to no other, I swear to thee. So long as thou art worthy, I shall serve. So long as thou doth not make thyself mine enemy, I shall destroy those who stand against thee. So long as though doth seek to claim thine birthright, I shall work to deliver it into thine hands."

 

Having done thus, the knight fell to one knee, with his blade and shield presented in front of him, as though offering himself as a tool. A silence passed throughout the room as he appeared to be awaiting a response, and so she decided to wait alongside him for the mystery Mistress to provide an answer.

 

...of course, it was her whom had obtained the Command Seals, performed the ritual, and summoned him. But at the same time, the very thought that she was the one being addressed seemed absolutely ridiculous. After all, there was no way that she could possibly fit the description of Mistress. She was the bastard whose only duty was to remain silent and work, unnoticed by anyone else, and at the moment, her appearance was severely dishevelled from the flames, with bits of soot all over her skin and clothes. It was far from refined. Iron over silver, stone over diamond. By that logic, it wasn't her. It couldn't be her.

 

Yet as she remained on her knees, it began to dawn upon her that there wasn't anyone else in the manor except for the man in her direct line of sight, and therefore, that there was no one to answer his question.

 

She didn't move. Was it fine? Or was it arrogant of her to think that she could ever be referred to as 'Mistress' by another?

 

"..."

 

On an impulse, as though to confirm that this was indeed reality, she touched her own face with her right hand - and found that there was a strange expression on it that she hadn't previously noticed. A smile? It was then that she realized the reason as to why she wasn't able to move...

 

It was simply that she'd been mesmerized by the might of the entity before her, nothing more.

 

The sole remaining heir of the Argus straightened her position, with her eyes locked onto the knight he wasn't quite what she'd been expecting, but there was no reason for her to disbelieve his words. Now that everything had sunk in, she felt prepared to finally assume the position of 'Master' and take her rightful place in this Holy Grail War. She had to take the chance. There may never be a more opportune moment.

 

"Very well..."

 

Making the decision, she got back onto her feet like a reanimated clockwork doll, her gaze continually fixated onto the Servant, bound to serve her, fight for her, and claim the Holy Grail for her.

 

"I thank you for your conviction. In the name of Argus, I swear to honour it."

 

Her Servant.

 

"Allow me to introduce myself." She spoke, her words filled with a newfound resolve. "My name is Glauce Euphemus Argus, descendent of the Argonauts and heir to the Argus Family. It is an honour to meet your acquaintance at long last."

 

And hers alone!

 

"Now then, Caster.... Rise."

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Berserker was more than impressed by how quick these two were willing to jump into combat. It was the sign that they are true warriors. She could see both of them manipulating mana in very different capacities. The fact that these two were so valiant in there pursuit of challenging the one who holds the title of Berserker even though she instigated the fight. 

"Let's see if you're worthy enough to serve my family..." 

 

A smirk came across Berserker's face as she was impressed by the sister's moxy. She raised her eyebrow at the boasting though. Maybe that was a habit of modern warriors. That or she was dealing with children who hadn't actually fought a real war before. She looked on as her master gained some distance between him and the group. "A distance fighter, eh?" She watched as he called out to her while he fired the first arrow. It was interesting to figure out why he would announce the attack in such an ill advised manner. Then the true purpose of that attack was revealed. As she was blinded by the arrows effect she then she immediately felt the sister's foot come clean across her jawline. This was impressive clearly enhanced strength using magic as as an agent, but this was nice. 

Unfortunately Berserker did not have the time admire there efforts as she heard the whistling sound of the two arrows flying across the air. A pincer attack was definitely appreciated in this situation. It showed that these two took the challenge seriously. Berserker decided that she would have to reply in kind and take them just as seriously. Berserker quickly contorted her body and caught both of the arrows in midair and she stood straight up. Leaving her eyes clothes thanks to the lingering effects of the flash arrow. 


"It seems my master is a distance fighter so the best course of action will be to test the defenses of Despina." Berserker sent a devastating haymaker towards Despina's way intending to see her through the wall.

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Oliver whistled at the site of Berserker skillfully catching both of his arrows whilst blinded, and even taking a direct hit from his sister while doing so. Even with her peculiar mana flow, it couldn't be denied that his servant was a master of combat! Though his admiration was short lived. Watching as Berserker struck his sister with a brutal haymaker, Oliver hastily dove over the sofa in an attempt to catch Despina as her body smashed through the wall in a shower of rubble. 

 

The two Pipers met in midair and were sent spiraling over the bar followed by the unmistakeable sound of hundreds of dollar's worth liquor being smashed to pieces. "So much for taking it easy on the collateral damage, huh?" Oliver groaned as he inspected the sister shaped whole in his wall from over Despina's shoulder. He had managed absorb a large amount of the impact with his own body. Though judging from the the traces of her mana that were scattered all across the room and the blood that was dripping from the blonde's mouth, he figured that she'd still be feeling Berserker's attack in the morning. "You alright?" He asked as Despina began to stir.

 

"This is nothing." Despina growled in response whilst shrugging off Oliver's grasp and brining herself shakily to her feet. It would be a stretch to say she was surprised at Berserker's strength, she was a servant after all. Instead she just decided to be thankful that her defenses were strong enough to hold up against the strike, and only truly shattered when she was smashed against the buildings surface... Without another word, the Blonde began gathering more mana from the air to reform Nimbus before reaching under the bar and producing Beretta 13 Tactical shotgun. 

 

Watching with exasperation as his sister began loading ammunition into the glimmering firearm, Oliver stood himself up straight and sighed. "Ya know, you've been getting a little crazy with whole Rambo thing after Pops left....." 

 

"The modern man's bow and arrow." Despina dismissed his statement without taking her eyes off of their opponent. "Are you ready?" 

 

"I'm almost out of juice..." As he spoke Oliver reformed his bow and aimed another arrow at Berserker. "This'll be our last go at her."​​ He wasn't lying. It seemed that the strain from the summoning ritual was too much for even the Piper family medication to remedy, and with his adept senses he was able to tell exactly how quickly his power was deteriorating. That, and the fact that Despina had brought out a firearm against an opponent that she knew it would have no effect against, told him that his next move would be his last. 

 

Aware of of her brother's condition, Despina responded by aiming her shotgun and Berserker and pulling the trigger, filling the room with a thunderous crack. But it didn't stop there. Training her sights on her brother's servant, the blonde continue to fire upon the other woman whilst moving out from the bar in a steady stride to the right side of the room. 

 

"Com'on, one hit's all I need..." Oliver found himself mumbling as he lined up his shot a fire yet another cyan arrow just as Despina's next hail of bullets was let off towards Berserker's face. Praying that the woman's combat instinct would kick in and she would end up catching the arrow like last time, Oliver jumped up atop the bar before his projectile would hit it's mark. "I just need to prove to them that I'm strong enough to do this." Truth be told, he wasn't quite sure who "them" was exactly. Was it Berserker? Despina? His parents? Or maybe it was the entire damned city... Regardless, the details didn't matter  now. The only thing that was important was that he made this last attack matter!

 

 

Without word the boy molded his bow into a large two handed blade whilst gathering mana particles at his feet. Just as his arrow reached it's destination, Oliver willed the mana particles to sweep him forward at frighting speed; flying past Berserker in glowing blue blur as he attempted to slice her with his blade and introduce her to the pain of having her magical circuits suffer a mock-overload. This was it, the last of his energy thrusted into an all or nothing attack to prove his worth! 

 

iU8EggM.png

 

"I am sorry for that interruption. It was my servant, bringing a good news for us. As for what we're going to do now, a change of plans would be necessary in light of that recent news. Surely you don't mind if we take a trip around the city now, don't you?"
 
Rider responded by shaking his head from left to right ever so slightly. "Not at all." His demeanor had loosened yet again after sensing Ayesha's sudden up in confidence. Only now aware of the fact that they were underground, Rider's gaze shifted around the wall of the ruined workshop. "Though I fear my preferred mode of transportation would prove..." He paused for a moment to find the right word whilst glancing up towards the ceiling "obnoxious."
 
"I'd also like to keep our enemies in the dark about my mount for a long as possible." As he spoke Rider began to roll up his sleeves. "Preferably until they've been given an opportunity to underestimate our abilities..." 
 
"If you don't have any alternatives, I suppose I wont have much choice other than carrying you to our destination."  Extending his hand towards his mistress, Rider waited for her response with his usual stoic expression. 
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Morgan didn't exactly know what he had expected from the Heroic Spirit he had summoned, however the knight's theatrical performance was certainly not it. Despite himself Morgan could help but allow a small giggle to escape his lips before he clamped his hands tightly over his own mouth surprised at his own indignity. Just as Morgan began to regain his composure the demeanor of his Servant changed completely as the man before took a knee.

 

"I am ___.  The Holy Grail has summoned me as your Saber. On my honor as a knight, I swear loyalty to you, and only you.  Together, let us claim victory my master!  My blade is yours!" The Servant proclaimed presenting his sword. The whole affair was enough to make a blush come to Morgan's cheeks.

 

"Ahem..." Morgan coughed once before getting to his feet trying to regain some of his lost grace, "please... rise there is no need for such formality between us. My name is Morgan Hultgren, and as you are already aware I am your Master in this Holy Grail War." Morgan had finally regained his calm composure smoothing out his robes as he spoke. "Now that the introductions are out of the way, I have some business to attend to, however I'll have some servants come to show to where you will be staying, and please feel free should you be feeling fatigued from the summoning. If it's all the same to you I had planned that would sleep in my bedroom so that we might be close together should someone attack the mansion, if this is not to your liking however please notify the servants and they will prepare another room for you. Now, if you'll excuse me..." Morgan bowed before exiting the room. 

 

As he left Morgan noticed all but his brother had cleared the hallway outside the summoning room... speaking of his brother Morgan would wait until tomorrow to tell his Servant of the other arrangements that had been made, and something told him that those arrangements would not be to his liking. With a barely audible sigh Morgan continued his way back to the main lobby of the mansion. Either way the summoning was done, and there was no use in worrying about the small details now, the Holy Grail War would soon be under, and Morgan had to be prepared. Looking out from one of the mansion's windows Morgan watched as one by one cars containing his family members departed from the mansion gone to scurry off to some foreign country safe from the battle that would soon occur.

 

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"Witch..." the sorcerer mused before letting out a small chuckle. "Well actually now that I think about it that is a very apropos way to refer to me." Lancer simply glared at him as the witch eyed him up and down, however before he had the chance to point out that the witch had yet to answer his question the man spoke again. "Well we should really get going before random parishioners come in for some kind of morning prayer." With a wave of his hand all traces of the unholy ceremony disappeared. 

 

While he could not discern why Lancer stayed his hand rather that simply cutting down the witch then and there. He'd learned quite well in his past the cunning, and deception that his kind where capable of, but for some reason Lancer choose to follow this man out from the church.

 

Once outside Lancer deemed it best to return his weapon into spirit form, while the witch began to speak again."First, just so you know my name is Tristan de la Mancha and I guess I'll be using you to hopefully kill people. While I hate the concept I guess we can make the best of it. Hopefully we can get together with the other master's and figure out some other way to avoid this all together, but just in case you look like you can hold your own. Second, that killing me thing is not allowed. According to this little hand book I have, these command seals are supposed to help me keep you in check. So in theory they say you should use one to keep your servant from killing you. I say meh to that. If I ever fall to the enemy in some way beyond my control...take me out I've lived a great life...Was hoping to make it past 50 but becoming one with the universe isn't so bad." What an odd man. He'd said that Lance was not allowed to kill him, and yet should he fall into enemy hands Lancer was supposed to... kill him? Well it was best not to sweat the details, God would show him the answer soon enough. What really piqued Lancer's interest however was this man's goal in the Holy Grail War. A non-violent end, huh? Perhaps God had had a purpose in allowing this devil worshiper to summon him, and for but a moment some semblance of a smile appeared on Lancer's lips.

 

"I see..."Lancer mumbled finally saying something since they had left the church, "well then wi- no, Tristan, it seems that God has brought us together to bless the Holy Grail War with His Grace before blood is shed. If this is truly your purpose then my spear is yours Tristan de la Mancha." Lancer then extended his hand offering the sign of comradery.  

 

In very little time the pair had arrived at what appeared to be the living quarters of the witch. As they entered Lancer began to take stock of what would be his living arrangements for the next couple of weeks. 

 

"So I think you're going to need some better clothes to blend in with. The church we were just gave me all of there lost and found boxes. I think you'll find something there...unless you want to go shopping." Lancer heard Tristan say from behind him.

 

"These should be fine... however..." Lancer trailed off almost embarrassed to complete the sentence, "if you aren't opposed to it... I would not, ahem, mind going shopping..." at the end of his sentence Lancer's voice had sunken to a barely audible whisper. He was not usually one to show shyness, however he'd been taught that he should not want for earthly things. While he was sure his "Master" could provide any information he needed on this modern world Lancer wanted to experience how the world he'd known had changed not just be told of it. He'd been summoned back to this world for a purpose, it would not do to just sulk around all day.

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Berserker couldn't help but admire how Despina took that hit head on and lived. To think that there are mortals capable of going toe to toe with servants. Berserker started blinking as her eyesight slowly returned to her and she got her vision just in time to see that Despina has the ability to manifest massive firearms. Well that is certainly useful. Berserker felt a slight stiffness in her left hand. She then concluded that the cyan power drink must be loosing its effects. Hmmm maybe that punch was just a little too strong. While she didn't want to have to use one of her weapons it looks like she would have to if she wanted to survive without killing her master. Berserker clapped her hands and when she released she called forth the noble sword from the between her hands. 

As Despina started unloading shells at Berserker the servant quickly jumped around to start dodging barrage. "Not bad, combining the advancements in weaponry with magic. Do all mages of this era know how to do such complicated magics?" She said as she continued dodging. It was then that she noticed her master come up and fire one arrow in the cover of bullets. Now that she could see the target coming this time she chose to continue dodging. With a confident snicker she thought it was time for her to go on the counter attack. Unfortunately when she looked up the only thing that greeted her in midair was her master descending on her with a blade of mana. 

Time slowed down for Berserker as her heartbeat actually skipped. She was genuinely surprised for a second. Her eyes started to glow blood red as it seemed like she was entering a true battle to the death. Her ma...no her opponent now has thrown there life on the line and she MUST TAKE IT! Needless to say her mad enhancement accidentally went off. DDDDIIIIIEEEEEE!! She screamed as she swung her blade directly at Oliver's and for a second there was a clash. However, she won. Her sword cleaved his in half and she fed off the immense mana that he stored. This one second in time seemed to take forever as Berseker smiled thinking this was over...but then she noticed one thing...Oliver's blade still retained its shape. The blade, while cut, was still a blade and she could only stand still as it slashed her right down the center. 

Blood...and more blood...All Berserker saw was her own blood as her master's sword cut her down her chest. Luckily, this slash knocked her out of her Mad Enhanced state and she quickly came to her senses. She covered her arm around her wound and realized it wasn't that deep. Impressive, but not that deep. She looked at her master who barely retained consciousness. As her dress was cut and her bloody topless torso just stood there the only word she could must while trying to contain the bloodlust was..."Excellent."

 

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"These should be fine... however...if you aren't opposed to it... I would not, ahem, mind going shopping..."

 

Tristan tilted his head slightly as he didn't really understand why his servant was all of a sudden shy to this experience. Maybe its a humility thing. Tristan shrugged as he put his coat back on cracked his hands. Performing the ritual drained more than he initially thought perhaps it was good that he go out with his servant...since he would most likely be needing some protection. Tristan let out a slight sigh as he escorted his servant out of his apartment. When he closed the door and locked it all of his magical defenses went up. Even though he thought he was being over protective he had no idea with the master's with a vast amount of wealth were going to actually do. People with a lot of resources at their disposal are quite deadly.

Soon Tristan and Lancer arrived at a random outlet mall filled with all the shops that the servant could hope for. So, don't know if you know about malls but there are many stores in here with which you can buy clothes or shoes. A lot of people here so I don't think any of the other masters would dare try something like an attack, but just in case...be careful.

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"If you don't have any alternatives, I suppose I wont have much choice other than carrying you to our destination."

 

"Don't worry about it, I have indeed prepared a ride for us to go around. I am aware of the importance of hiding your mount."

 

Ayesha paused for a bit, thinking. She was supposed to brief Rider of her plans, but thinking about it, while she had plans on how would she take out the other families and avoid getting killed herself, she still lacked a method to carry out the main meat of the plan just yet - and she still needed to judge whether Rider would approve of such tactics in the first place.

 

"Let's do some field observation."

 

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Around thirty minutes later, Ayesha and Rider were taking their time to relax in a park north of the city. The magus had changed into a more proper clothing for going out on a motorcycle, and was now busy caressing a cat on her lap on the bench. Being out in the open like that would be a problem normally, but she had placed wards nearby, and it's close to one of the entry to her stronghold, so it shouldn't be much a problem. No one else was around the area at that time, anyway.

 

"Alright. Our priority for the next few days would be to confirm the identity, base of operation, and activities of the other participants. While I am aware of the positioning and the location of the three big families, I am still unable to confirm the identity of their chosen masters. And then, there's also the other 3 masters who I am still unaware of their identity, at least for now. Although, once any of them made their move, it would be child's play to recognize them.

 

I have given you a map earlier regarding our hideout. It would be better if you could memorize it well. Once we could confirm the exact location, we can start up the big plan.

 

There will be quite the spectacle, I am sure."

 


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“Answer me, young magus. Dweller of this wicked palace, tell me one thing.


 


Do you really believe that you are worthy of being my Master?”


 


Elizabeth opened her mouth to respond the the question, instinctively ready to answer with a yes. However, she caught herself. Did she truly believe it? She hesitated, closing her mouth. She thought upon it for a moment. She had had pretty much everything in her life handed down to her, including this task. While her sister worked hard, she hardly worked. Everything came free and natural to the young girl. The last time she had to push herself was near the family grave, when she fought an assailant. With a quick grimace, she was about to answer no, when another thought popped into her head.


 


She accepted this quest, not for herself, but for her family. She vowed to find the grail, and take it for the Blackmoores. She would not et anything come in her way, because she was apart of something much larger than herself now. It was not what she wanted, or what she believed, it was what she had to do.


 


"Yes, I do." Elizabeth said, in response to Archer's inquisition. The girl sounded self assured, and confident in her answer. She eyed Archer up and down, assessing her new servant. She had caught the previous remark, and did not take kindly to her home being called place of the wicked, but it mattered not to her. She would surely impress Archer with her talent, especially at such a young age.

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"Excellent." His servant's words seemed slightly muffled by the low ringing in his ears. Even so, they sent a wave of satisfaction through his very core. He had done it. He had actually managed to land a hit on Berserker! Oliver was well aware that the Heroic spirit had been holding back immensely (up until the part where she tried to cleave him in two...), but that didn't stop a large grin from creeping across his face. "Hehehe," The boy chuckled to himself deliriously, allowing his mana blade to disperse as his vision started to blur and his body began to sway. "Y-You should... see me on a good day..." Oliver shifted his gaze to where he sensed Berserker's mana and flashed her one last smile before the light left his eyes, and his legs finally gave out. 

 

Fortunately, Despina was there to catch her brother as he collapsed. Tossing her weapon to the side, the blonde hoisted Oliver up onto her back, and gripped his legs to keep him supported. "He has a talent for overdoing things..." Despina allowed her tone to soften as she took a moment to asses the damage done to the room. The wall could be fixed. The bar would be restocked by the morning... all in all the destruction was much more tame than expect.

 

"You'll be staying down in the bunker with him for obvious reasons." She turned her gaze Berserker before motion towards the elevator at the far end of the room. "This way." As Despina led Berserker into the elevator, the servant would be met with a deathly silence as the pair began their decent down into the public levels of the hotel. Without saying a word, the blonde stared forward the entire ride, only shifting to adjust Oliver's position on her back. When the elevator finally stopped, the door opened to reveal a room strikingly similar to the one they had just left, with the only distinctions being the lack of windows and the seemingly endless amount of glowing glyphs and that covered the bunker's walls. 

 

Even without Oliver's powerful sensory abilities, it was quite obvious that the concentration of mana particles in this particular part of the building was extraordinarily high. This was intentional of course, and made possible by pulling mana directly from the multiple ley line intersections that the Piper Towers was built atop many years ago. Taking a moment to take in the therapeutic energy of the room, Despina shifted her bright blue gaze to Berserker and motioned towards the pair lavish looking beds in the center of the bunker. "I hope it's to your liking..." She said flatly out of obligation before moving over and gently placing Oliver atop one of the beds. 

 

"Now that the child has been put to sleep," She continued whilst carefully unbuttoning her younger brother's shirt and tucking him in. "Allow me to treat that wound, whilst we go over his plan for tomorrow..."  Her tone remained stoic and business like, though her lips curled into a small smirk. "Though calling it a proper plan would being a little generous." 

 

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"Are they ready?!" Oliver was almost vibrating with excitement as he looked out into the city skyline. After his much needed rest, the boy had awoken at the crack of dawn and had wasted no time in returning to the top of the Tower with Despina and Berserker. A mug filled with imported coffee gripped tightly in his hand, the boy's rather expensive looking silk robe drifted lazily in the morning breeze in stark contrast to it's wearer's bright smile.

 

"For the sixth time, yes." Despina's replied without lifting her gaze from the tablet that she was skillfully swiping through with a stylus. "I'm just doing a few last minute adjustments for the event before we proceed..." Catering, entertainment, prepping the Tower's bounded field for Servant contacts, augmenting the internal defenses to assure that no unwanted guests overstayed their welcome, and of course; contacting the family tailor to prepare the trio's outfits for the event. Needless to say, Oliver's plan for the night had kept the girl very busy as of late.

 

Turning to glance over at Berserker, Oliver plucked up another full mug of coffee from the tray at his side before offering it his servant. "If everything goes smooth, we'll have a face for all the other combatants by the time the nights over." With a smile, he closed his eyes to let a ray of sunlight wash over him. "All I need to do is get a good read of their mana... then there'll be no hiding from us." 

 

"It's time." Despina's voice chimed in causing him to reopen his eyes and crack a small grin. "Do it!" The boy erupted into flurry of motion; forming a small blade of mana and placing his foot on the balcony's guardrail for dramatic effect. Heading the young Piper's command, Despina entered the code necessary to release the two large hatches only two stories bellow them, and in only seconds, the sky was filled with black feathers. There was hundreds of them, all taking to the sky at the same time, each brandishing a golden scroll in their talons. Crows, the trademark familiar of the Piper family were now scattering all throughout the city; some with specific targets, others simply ordered to seek out anyone with a strong magical potential, and even quite a few that where tasked with the job of gifting the invitation to anyone who looked peculiar in the off chance that they could be a servant or a master in disguise. 

 

Upon opening the scroll, the receiver would be made aware of the fact that they have been cordially invited to the Piper Towers to attend a ball honoring the return of the family's only male heir, Oliver Piper. The invitation would speak of a lavish banquet, dancing, and for those who had strong magical potential the scroll displayed the final event of the night in burning blue mana particles. "LIVE ENTERTAINMENT" 

 

Oliver's grin grew wider as he watched his invitations scatter around the city. Who would head his call? What kind of masters would answer his challenge?

 

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"Alright. Our priority for the next few days would be to confirm the identity, base of operation, and activities of the other participants. While I am aware of the positioning and the location of the three big families, I am still unable to confirm the identity of their chosen masters. And then, there's also the other 3 masters who I am still unaware of their identity, at least for now. Although, once any of them made their move, it would be child's play to recognize them.
 
I have given you a map earlier regarding our hideout. It would be better if you could memorize it well. Once we could confirm the exact location, we can start up the big plan.
 
There will be quite the spectacle, I am sure."
 
"I'll have the entirety of our base's structure memorized by nightfall... It is rather impressive that you managed to secure the entire network by yourself." Rider spoke in his usual tone as he watched all manner of civilians go about their day with a rather bored expression painted across his face. This city was about to become a battleground, and all these people were completely oblivious to it. He almost felt sorry for them all...
 
"I do find it odd that you've yet to inform me of exactly what this 'big plan' is though." Without lifting his gaze from a pair of children who seemed to fighting over a football, Rider continued. "I've already sworn my loyalty to you, but that means nothing if you don't instill all of your trust in me, Ayesha. I am your Rider after all... "
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