[Fate/ninth heaven] Glass Coffin; velveteen [route IV, day 3]

[feral-phoenix.livejournal.com]

Masterlist and readme are here.

velveteen   I have a dream about an unfortunate country.   The people of the ash built their tower twice.   The first time, the tower was struck down by the heavens as if in punishment.   Their skin was stained gray by the ashes, and their lives were weighted down with a heavy curse as a sign of the gods’ wrath.   The people of the ash became immortal.   …Immortality is supposed to be a perfect state of youth and agelessness, so perhaps it would be better to say that their immortality was flawed.   The people of the ash could not die of old age, but their bodies continued to age and decay even so.   They could become rotting corpses or wraiths, but they could not die naturally.   Suicide, mercy killings, murder at the hands of others… they could only be relieved of their suffering through violence.   You couldn’t call it anything other than a curse.   Still, the people of the ash lived on.   They endured their cursed bodies, gave birth to cursed children, and ended their lives in a slowly creaking wheel of never-ending pain, hoping that one day it would be deemed enough and the curse would be lifted.   Needless to say, that day never came.   The people of the ash lived with other races around the old island castle.   During the early eras, there was peace despite the sometimes-uncomfortable ethnic and cultural mix.   The four peoples who lived around the castle were used to each other’s ways, aided each other when necessary, and left each other alone otherwise.   …Eventually, however, a more warlike people arrived from across distant borders, desiring to claim the land and castle for themselves.   There were some who did not resist, content to be allowed their farms and villages.   The people of the ash were among those who refused to hand over their ancestral lands.   …They were cursed, but they were nevertheless human, just as the invaders were.   Nothing meant that they had to lie down and be trampled by selfish outsiders.   But the invaders were strong.   They crushed the native races who resisted, and upon claiming the castle and creating their kingdom, allowed the rebellious indigenous people to have none of what was rightfully theirs.   The people of the ash were forced through marshes that poisoned their bodies, and contained in wastelands that could not sustain them.   They were despised and oppressed by the invaders and the descendants of the invaders for hundreds of years.   …And so the people of the ash built the tower again.   Not as a signpost for all the peoples of the world to gather.   But as a medium for their prayers to reach the heavens—   “—”   My first confused thought as I wake up is that it sure is cold.   I lift up my exhausted upper body, but when I put my hand down the surface underneath my fingers is flat cold concrete, not warm sheets—   Eh?   I shake my head to clear it.   …Oh.   That wasn’t a smart move, as now my head is spinning with dizziness.   I hold onto my dizzy head until my vertigo abates and look around.   It’s morning.   I’m at the hotel—or more correctly, I’m on the roof.   I can tell that it’s morning because the sky is lightening to a pale bluish gray, with the sun rising behind the clouds.   Hmm.   Last night, I was—   As I recall the previous events, it becomes obvious how sloppy I’ve been.   Even though I was only performing the summoning ritual, calling my Servant cost a lot of energy, and I must have passed out immediately afterward.   …And then I spent all night unconscious on the roof.   Um. I should probably be grateful that I didn’t freeze.   I get to my feet.   I still have my key card, so getting back to my room shouldn’t be a problem.   As I’m looking around, I hear a familiar squawking noise, and hold out my arm for Moja to land on.   …My familiar does not seem the worse for wear after a night out in the cold, and hops up to my shoulder like nothing is wrong.   It must be nice to have feathers.   “—Master.”   At the sudden voice, I jump a little, making Moja mantle his wings and open his beak next to my ear to make disgruntled bird noises.   Where did Archer come from all of a sudden?!   As I turn around with a hand on my chest to keep my heart from leaping out, I see my Servant behind me where there used to be empty space only a few seconds ago.   He takes a look at my expression and scratches his head apologetically.   “—Sorry. I was in spiritual form from sunup until now.   “I didn’t know where to take you during the night, so I just stayed corporeal to make sure that you didn’t get too cold, and I thought that once the sun rose I should stop that to keep from using too much of your prana…   “That’s not really an excuse for startling you, though.”   …Oh, so that’s the case.   I shake my head to show that I’m not angry.   —But more importantly, we should go inside.   When I sign so to Archer, he nods his head.   “Then, I’ll resume spirit form until we’re in a place where we can speak to each other privately.   “I think that what I’m wearing will definitely draw unwanted attention.”   Well, that’s true enough.   I’ve heard that Japan isn’t all that judgmental on personal fashion, but that can only go so far when Archer is dressed in centuries-old leather armor and is carrying a weapon.   …In that case, it might be best to try to do something about that, since it will be difficult to communicate with my Servant while we’re out in the city unless he’s corporeal.   It would be eye-catching anyway if I were to talk to thin air, but signing to thin air would be even more so, and I think there are limits to what I can communicate purely mentally.   “But, Master, while we’re here—”   At the sound of my Servant’s voice, I look back up.   He hasn’t disappeared yet, and is still looking at me.   “I wasn’t able to do so last night, so I’ll introduce myself.   “—My true name is Heckler D. T. Ivor, and in life I served as a knight of Aventheim as a member of the Twelfth Order.   “I will serve you in this Holy Grail War to the best of my ability.”   Good, that’s good.   It would be strange if I had summoned a Servant other than him, as this was the catalyst that I used after all.   But—it’s good to have confirmation, and it’s good to know that the man who will be my Archer thinks of this kind of thing as important.   —Is it true that you receive knowledge of the current era when you’re summoned?   At my question, my Servant tilts his head.   “Yes, we do. I’m probably speaking the language that’s native to this country, instead of my homeland’s language, for instance.”   …Come to think of it, that is definitely the case.   —Then, I’ll wait to introduce myself until we’re inside.   The writing in this language is phonetic and so it should be easier to just write it for you to read than to spell it out in sign.   He raises his eyebrows, and then smiles a little.   “…Okay, that does make sense.   “I’ll follow your lead, Master.”   And so I head back into the hotel with my incorporeal Servant following me.   Moja is still perched on my shoulder, but hopefully at this time we can get back to the room safely without being spotted by the hotel staff—   ……And so.   “I see, I see.   “So your name is Vienya, and you’re here from the land I used to call home…   “I’d hoped that maybe the war in my generation had been able to change things for the good, but if you’re here representing your ethnic group in hopes of granting them better rights, I guess it was too much to ask for after all.   “…That’s a little disappointing.”   Heckler, my Archer, folds his arms with a troubled expression.   After some difficulty, I was able to arrange for room service, and so we are sitting at the kitchenette table in my hotel suite over a lovely warm spread of pancakes and English muffins and eggs and sausages.   I had to have Heckler hide with Moja out of sight when I was actually accepting the food from the staff member who came to deliver it, but such a big breakfast is worth it.   This is one of the times that it’s nice to speak using sign language, as it’s not rude if I keep talking while I chew, and as long as I have my hands free I can make a reply.   It seems like Servants don’t get as much nourishment from food as living people, as their actual sustenance is in the form of prana, which is apparently why Heckler is only taking small pieces of this and that to see what they taste like.   Instead, he cuts up sausages into small bites and feeds them to Moja.   …Apparently he likes animals, and Moja is easy to please and tends to like people who will give him food.   I don’t know whether to be impressed with Heckler’s generosity and think he’s a good person, or be annoyed that he can afford to be this cavalier in front of food.   —Rather than trying to secure our rights using the Holy Grail, we need to be able to lift the curse on us.   Because for as long as we are cursed, we’ll have to stay relatively secluded in order to keep from drawing attention.   There’s still plenty of discrimination, but if we could function as normal living beings then maybe there would be a chance for us to try to have a voice in politics and the like.   It’s just that the curse technically classifies us as magical beings, and the Magic Association would come after us if we revealed the existence of magic to the average people around us.   Even though there aren’t many of us who function as magi these days. It’s a little ironic.   Heckler listens quietly to my explanation and sighs.   Because he’s a hero from my own country—from the Land of a Hundred Heroes, it’s easy for him to grasp the general situation.   That honestly helps me out a lot.   …Heckler D. T. Ivor, member of the Twelfth Order of the Knight Kingdom.   He is one of over a hundred heroes who became Heroic Spirits in a great cataclysm that once embroiled the land where I was born.   A member of the royal court of the time summoned a demon god that he couldn’t hope to control in hopes of overthrowing the king.   Due to a mix of court politics and that person’s lack of power, the demon god ran wild and the whole kingdom became infested with demons, and the hundred knights of the king’s army all fought and had their souls separated from their bodies at that time.   My ancestors were indirectly involved in the conflict as well, as they had been trying to reconstruct the tower of Babel in order to plead for intercession from the gods over the cruelty with which the kingdom treated them.   The tower was destroyed for a second time by an angel sent down to punish the country, and that angel formed an alliance with the king to get rid of the demons.   The legend of the king’s knights is apparently not that well-known outside of our country, and the number of heroes in the legend means that the only commonly known ones are the king and the angel.   But at the same time, because the site of the old legend was our own country, it was easier to obtain an artifact to use to summon one of the heroes, and we had some liberty to choose one who wouldn’t be rebellious against a Master like me.   Heckler’s people are also indigenous residents of our country, and although it wasn’t to the same degree as my own people, they received discrimination because like us they had tried to fight against the invasion of foreign settlers.   According to what I’ve read, he himself joined the king’s army out of hopes that he could change society for the better somehow, so it seems like I’ll be able to count on at least some degree of sympathy.   It’s also just practical to have summoned a Servant from my own country.   Servants receive knowledge about the modern day when they’re summoned, but sign language is most likely not considered common knowledge enough to be transmitted.   But sign language in modern-day Aventheim is derived from the hand signals used by soldiers in the Knight Kingdom, and so even if some of the small nuances are different from in the past, Heckler will understand me when I’m signing.   In the end, the ability to collaborate and strategize easily is just more important than raw power in a situation where it’s me and my Servant against many unknown enemies.   “—So, Master.”   Heckler, who busied himself with feeding Moja more slices of sausage while I was thinking, addresses me again.   “What are your plans for this war?”   —Well.   Before anything else, we obviously need to patrol the town for information.   We should do that tonight and try to stay unobtrusive so that we’ll see the enemy before they see us, since neither of us has any means of close-range fighting.   We wouldn’t be as good at it as an Assassin, but if we can find out which enemies we can take on directly and places where we might be able to eliminate others from afar, then we might be able to win—   Heckler nods along with my plan.   “Then, tonight?”   I incline my head.   —Before then, I need to shop for food supplies.   And just in case, we should think about whether we might need clothes for you, if we want to move around the town with you in physical form at some point.   It’s already noon, and I want to be done with things before sundown, so at any rate this won’t be on the shopping list for today, but—we’ll need to consider whether there’s situations where it would be better to have you ready at my side even if that might draw attention to me from other Masters.   I want you to think about it too—   “…Hmm.   “Yeah, I guess that would be something to keep in mind.”   Heckler folds his arms with a serious expression.   “—Anyhow.   “I’ll still accompany you outside, but in spirit form.   “It would be a good chance to get a look at the city as well.”   —Well, of course.   Even if this is a fight between only seven people, it’s still a war, and there’s only so much I can do to defend myself alone.   If I’m going outside, then I want you around me at all times just in case.   …For some reason, this makes Heckler smile.   “Eheh.   “—That’s good to hear, I’m really glad.   “For one thing, it’s sensible, and—I’m happy that you’re going to rely on me, Master.”   …………   It’s good that he’s honest.   But on the other hand, that’s a little embarrassing…   And so once the big breakfast that extended into a brunch is over, I pocket my room key card and lock up to go outside.   It will be more cost-effective not to take a bus or taxi, and so I take my time and walk back to the big bridge.   I don’t sense anything out of the ordinary, but I still have Moja take to the sky above so that I will be able to sense through him if he spots anything.   We don’t know when the war will begin, and it’s impossible to rule out the chance that some Masters will be able or willing to attack in daylight, so it’s important to be able to keep an eye out as well as to have Heckler at my side in case of combat situations.   As an Archer, it’s reasonable to expect that he is not very good at close-range fighting, and I need some distance to cast spells too.   So, not being taken by surprise at any given situation is important to our survival.   Heckler is quiet on the walk down to the market in Miyama.   His invisible presence is alert, so I think he’s probably looking around and analyzing the terrain for places that will be advantageous to hide in or attack from.   The marketplace is crowded and lively.   I reconfirm my budget to myself, and look around in various stores.   My cooking skill is only about average, so most of what I’m interested in is obtaining the materials necessary for simple meals, and for already-prepared things that can be heated up or premade mixes that can only need vegetables, and so on.   Fruits and vegetables on their own are fine too, as they can just be washed and cut up as a side dish or as a snack.   Frozen meat may also be a risk even in this weather, given the long walk back to the hotel.   So, I make a mental note to myself to only ever buy frozen meat and dairy if I will have enough money left over to pay for a taxi or public transportation.   In the end, I leave carrying grocery bags filled with vegetables and fruit and bread.   This should be enough for a few days.   It’s already four in the afternoon.   I hold on to the bags so that they won’t fall, glare at the vending machines that I pass, and walk back across the bridge towards the hotel with Heckler silent the whole way and Moja still circling overhead.   —After using the materials available to me to make a simple cream stew.   I put away the leftovers for tomorrow’s lunch, get a coat, and lock up the hotel room.   It’s already quite dark when I go outside.   The city of Shinto is still lit up here and there from building to building and with street lights, obscuring the sky but looking like strange stars have come down to roost all over the town.   Even so, there are considerably fewer people out here tonight than I would expect in such a large town.   The people hurry from place to place as if they don’t want to be outdoors after dark, and the number of civilians out on the streets is about the volume of people that I might see wandering around during the day at my home.   …Now that I think about it.   This place has hosted the Holy Grail Wars for a very long time, and apparently the last war was a violent one that caused a lot of trouble for the public.   Even if they don’t know the cause, the people may have it carved into their minds like an instinctive fear that it’s better to stay indoors during the hours that magi might be active.   …I feel a little sorry for the people, but all the same it’s much more convenient that way.   If there are fewer mundanes around, there’s obviously less need to worry about being seen and what to do about anyone who has the misfortune of walking into a big flashy magical battle.   We’re supposed to erase the memories of anyone who does so, or kill them.   I’ve never had to do either, and I don’t really like the idea of killing someone when it’s not in self-defense.   Even in a situation like that, when the attacker can’t complain about getting killed, once you die it’s all over.   The people who are the most hurt and are left to pay the price are the people who surrounded the deceased in their daily life.   ……I know that firsthand, so I can’t help but think that way.   So it’s good if I don’t have to harm anyone and repeat the sin of the soldiers who killed my own parents.   …And anyway, if there are not a lot of men roaming around, there’s less chance that someone will call out to me.   Japan is supposed to be a relatively safe country when it comes to those kinds of matters, but that doesn’t stop evil men from feeling like they’re entitled, and if they’re evil men anyway then they wouldn’t likely care that I look younger than I am.   Heckler is with me, but he is invisible, so it’s not like his presence is going to deter creeps.   Even like this he should be able to help me escape, but…   It’s a reason why I might need to get him modern clothes, even though having him take physical form during a night patrol will bring unnecessary attention to us from our real enemies.   …I guess I’ll leave that option unless I think that things will be a problem.   I stuff my hands into my pockets and keep walking.   It’s cold, and my breath is white.   The wind makes melancholy noises as it rushes through the gaps in skyscrapers.   We continue to walk through the town as more and more people disappear into buildings and the scenery gets darker.   I pull out my hand and check my watch.   It’s already eleven o’clock by now.   I slide my hand back into my pocket to protect it from the cold and to conceal the red proof of my contract with Heckler that’s engraved into the back of my hand.   If there’s still no activity in Shinto, then we should probably move our reconnaissance over to Miyama instead.   In silence, we cross the bridge.   It is even darker and quieter here.   All of the houses have their lights off but for a few up on the distant hills.   It feels like the scenery is holding its breath, and I instinctively make my steps light to conceal any sound.   I hug the shadows as we walk down the wide streets of the residential areas.   At last.   I think we’re approaching something like a crosswalk.   “—Master.”   Suddenly, Heckler’s voice whispers, as if directly into my ear.   I know that no one will be able to hear him but me.   “I can hear the sounds of steel.   “—There seems to be a battle going on somewhere close by.   “It will be dangerous to approach on foot.”   I look up at the sky and narrow my eyes.   There are trees and rooftops nearby and there doesn’t seem to be any better cover.   —I’ll send Moja out ahead.   Once he scouts out the location of the fight and a good vantage point, can you take me there so that I won’t be noticed?   “Yeah, that shouldn’t be a problem.”   Heckler replies immediately.   It looks like he’ll be able to view my signing perfectly even in this dark night.   “Once we get to places with high walls and houses, just jump and I can carry you and take care of the landings so that there isn’t any noise.   “From there, if you stay low and in the shadows you should be all right.”   …Moja returns without incident.   —It seems like the fight is happening a few streets away.   There’s a place to hide on a rooftop, so we’ll approach from another direction—   I say so and take off running in the opposite direction of the battle.   My footsteps are quiet and don’t echo, and when I trust in my Servant’s words and gear up to jump at a fence, my body suddenly becomes weightless.   Carried by Heckler, I alight soundlessly on the roof of a house, and move forward at a quick pace while keeping my body low to avoid attention and keep from slipping on the uneven surface.   Jumping from rooftop to rooftop is effortless as well.   And before long, I begin to hear it.   …Unmistakably—the sounds of clashing steel.   I slow my ascent.   When I can see flashes of sparks flying over the edge of the house, I stop.   —Keep me from falling—   I don’t wait for a reply.   I crawl to the apex of the house, hide behind the chimney, and peer out from the shadow of the dark structure with my body supported by my invisible Servant—   There, in the crossroads.   As I narrow my eyes to watch clearly, I observe the shapes of four people.   On one side of the combat is a woman with long hair and a fashionable coat.   On the other stands a small person in a white dress.   The two of them are circling the perimeter of the battle like vultures, light on their feet and poised to strike at one another.   Even without the two grappling in the center, I would have been able to tell that these are the magi commanding the two Servants.   Right in the middle of the street is a spectacle that makes my muscles tense and forces me to breathe lightly and soundlessly.   My skin prickles with the intensity of the desire to kill that I can feel even from a more-or-less safe distance.   Heavy footsteps, brilliant sparks, and the cacophony of steel ringing on steel.   I don’t dare push myself further up and around the edge of the chimney.   Even if I’m at a distance, I’ll be in trouble if I’m spotted by the Servants or their Masters.   But I can still make out some details about the two who are fighting.   One of the Servants is a man in red armor.   His hair is long and red like a battle flag, and the weapon he carries in his hands is a brightly-colored scythe.   The other is a woman in white armor.   I can’t see her face because it’s shielded by the visor of her helmet at this angle, but her hair is golden and she holds the hilt of a long, broad sword with both hands.   “—”   Before I realize it I’m holding my breath.   The movements of the two Servants are inhuman.   Each blow contains a deadly amount of prana, and their reaction times are much faster than anything a human might be able to manage.   Every time their weapons clash together, the whole block lights up as if illuminated by heat lightning.   But I can’t just watch in awe.   The reason why I’m hiding here and observing in the first place is for the sake of information.   …The female Servant is probably Saber, the class renowned as the most powerful.   I can’t tell what the male Servant’s class is just yet.   The polearm in his hands could qualify him as a Lancer, but that’s not certain, and the only classes that I can rule out just looking at him are Assassin, as he’s too heavily armored for stealth, and Caster, because he’s definitely a physical fighter.   I’m too far away from the magi to appraise their level of power.   The woman appears to be relaxed from her pose and gait that lack tension, but that could be false confidence or a bluff.   The distant person in white moves like a cat, with careful footfalls.   Like the woman, it could be poise or it could be wariness or deliberately done to conceal weakness.   As if by a signal that I’ve missed, the two Servants who clashed so steadfastly leap apart.   The man in red armor stands protectively in front of his Master, the person in white.   The woman with the sword holds her weapon at the ready in front of the woman in the expensive coat.   “—If you’d like to leave with your life intact, I’m willing to give you this one last opportunity.”   The Master in white speaks, the voice revealing him as a man.   “I have already warned you that the starting bell of this war has not yet been rung.   “And surely the only thing more ignominious than being disqualified by killing opponents too early would be receiving the ignoble title of the second Saber in the history of this war to be defeated in the early stages.”   A casual, somewhat scornful voice as if he’s looking down on his opponent.   He confirms for me that the Servant he’s facing is Saber.   “Oh, get real.”   Meanwhile, the woman replies to him in a bored-sounding tone.   “You don’t actually think that you’re going to chase me away with an empty threat like that, do you?   “—Look, I have more than enough pride and training riding on this to determine that I won’t run away from a battle I can easily win.”   “—Hmm.”   The man dressed in white replies with an unimpressed noise.   “Arrogant, I see.   “—And foolish. I have no desire to endanger my standing in this war, but if you continue to aim so persistently for our lives you will leave me with no choice.   “If you reevaluate your ability to win this battle then, it will be too late.”   Even from this far away, it feels like the air would ignite into a conflagration if you tapped a steel and a flint together.   The two Servants stare at each other silently as the Masters talk tough at one another, and the intent to kill from the four is strangling.   And then.   As if a switch has been flipped.   Both Saber and the Servant in red move.   But they don’t leap towards each other.   It’s so sudden that for a moment I don’t realize what has happened, but there’s a clatter from the direction of the red Servant and there’s faint glimmers of light from around Saber and her Master.   “Saber—?!”   “Rosary, please stay on guard.   “—There are other enemies hiding here.”   On the other side, the red Servant brandishes his scythe.   “—Stay close.   “There’s a sniper somewhere here.”   “What do we do, Master?   “—Magic didn’t work on her!”   And, from further away there’s a high girl’s voice raised in something like panic.   From the shadows.   I can vaguely make out the shapes of two people, who must be another Master and Servant.   “It was worth a shot at least.”   So close that I nearly jump and give away my cover, there is another female voice, this one bright and cheerful.   From the cover of another rooftop, a light-haired girl jumps down to the ground, followed by her Servant.   The Master is wearing a school uniform and ribbons in her hair, and looks like she’s only a few years older than me.   Her Servant is a young adult, a woman with sharp eyes and brightly-colored hair pinned up severely.   From the crossbow that the Servant holds, and the metal gauntlet on her hand that is exaggerated to a size useful for a weapon, she can only be Assassin.   So, the other Servant who attacked Saber and her Master with magic must be Caster.   When I look to the pair emerging from the distant shadows, the Servant is a girl with long pale hair holding a staff, and the Master seems to be about the same age as her, with short red hair and what looks like a gun held in each hand.   “—”   The Master of the red Servant slaps a hand to his forehead and lets out an exasperated sigh.   “—Really, now.   “All you young people are so fatally hasty. I’ve been saying and saying that the Grail War hasn’t formally begun yet, but none of you have any intent to listen, do you?   “What on earth will you do if jumping the gun means that any dead Servants won’t count towards the final total?   “Everyone does understand that this is a ritual, correct? There is no guarantee that the Lesser Grail is stable enough to catch the blood of the dead until all the players are assembled, and we are still short one Master.”   He complains in a dry tone as his Servant stands on guard against all the enemies.   “There isn’t any way to tell that what you’re saying is true.   “—I’ll consider ceasing hostilities, but only if you can offer up proof.”   It’s Caster’s Master that proclaims this.   She points to him with one of the guns in her hands, moonlight gleaming off the barrel.   Her finger is still laid to the side and not on the trigger.   …I don’t know very much about guns, but I can at least tell that they are revolvers, which have a bit of an old-fashioned feeling compared to things like pistols, which is what you’d usually think of when you hear the word “handgun”.   Most magi don’t associate much with technology and modern weaponry aside from what’s necessary to survive, so I wonder if this girl is a rebel against the precepts of the Magic Association or if she just comes from a family of magi that are oddballs.   I don’t think that reformist views are very common among magi these days, even if the leader of the Magic Association is a reformist himself.   “Hmm, well, that’s a practical concern.”   The red Servant’s Master continues to talk in a leisurely way.   “I suppose that you can always go to the church in Shinto and try asking the supervisor.   “Though, I must warn you that doing so would be taking your life into your hands.   “The supervisor in this war is crooked.”   “If you’re that enthusiastic about it, then of course I won’t be going all that way.”   Caster’s Master says so in a matter-of-fact kind of voice.   Beside her, Caster nods.   “If that’s what my Master has decided, then we can always go ahead and take the risk!   “Don’t worry, I’ll beat you all up really fast.”   …This is just my personal opinion, but it’s a little strange having a death threat being issued in such an airy and cheerful tone.   “I see.   “…Saber’s Master here has already been proving recalcitrant, so what about you, Master of Assassin?   “With foreknowledge of what you’re getting into, will you take the sensible route and back down for the time being?”   “Mm, you make it sound really reasonable, but—”   The girl in the school uniform shrugs her shoulders.   “They say a fleeing back’s an easy target, and even if this isn’t a ruse so that you can attack me when my guard is down, I sure don’t put it past those other two to do the same.   “When you think of it like that, I’d much rather stick around and take my chances.   “—I can’t afford to lose, and so I’ll gladly pick the choice that seems like it’s closer to victory and survival.”   With that, the red Servant’s Master lets out another sigh.   “…Well, you heard them, Rider.   “I would rather not stick around to play with such fools, and so—I will need to ask you to do something about this.   “It’s fine for children to decide to take risks, but I have rather more riding on the outcome of this contest than most.”   The man in the red armor bows his head and lets out a breath.   The clouds of white stream up into the air, as if it’s steam coming from the mouth of a dragon about to breathe fire—   “—All right.   “All you small fries had better not get in my way unless you’re sure you can handle the fight you’re picking—”   The red Servant—Rider reaches out with one arm and pulls his Master close to him.   Gripping his long scythe in his free hand, he sinks his body down in the tense, tense air.   And he stretches out his neck in an odd, bestial sort of movement, his eyes gleaming an inhuman yellow color in the pale moonlight as he pulls his lips back from his teeth in a grimace like a snarl—   There’s a roaring noise like thunder, or like a powerful engine being revved.   There’s a great gust of wind and a burst of flame.   One after another, the voices of women raise into the air, and I can hear a bowstring’s twang and the report of a gunshot, along with several spells so powerful as to be visible to the naked eye—   But the wreath of fire washes away.   Befitting of the class name Rider, the Servant is sitting astride an absurd animal that I’ve never seen in my life.   It is about the size of a horse, but it is clearly reptilian, with red scales and long fangs, and it balances on its powerful hindquarters like a bird.   Its forelegs are small, like those of a carnivorous dinosaur.   “—”   I swallow my breath.   That’s unmistakably a type of dragon, the rarest and most powerful of the fantasy races.   It’s small, and so it’s probably a lesser variety, but—it’s unbelievable to see even a Servant riding such a beast.   Dragons are such a high class of fantasy being that one must have unimaginable riding skill or an innate affinity with them to even dream of riding one.   And Rider sits astride the animal like it’s only natural.   The armored red dragon snarls at the enemies of its master, and Rider doesn’t even have the space to hold its reins as both his arms are occupied with his weapon and his own Master, whose body is supported against his own.   …Oh.   The sight is so fearsome that I can’t look away.   Rider and his Master’s intent to kill is directed entirely towards the other Servants, and as it’s not focused on me, I can appreciate from a distance.   Come to think of it, that scythe in his hand is a weapon much better suited to being wielded from the back of some kind of mount than from on foot.   I’ve used sickles and scythes a few times to help farm, and so I know what an awkward and unwieldy thing that type of weapon can be despite its cutting power.   But Rider is high enough off the ground that he can swing his weapon one-handed in big cycles and get extra force of momentum behind it.   …Furthermore, his Master is protected against him and behind the dragon’s head, and will probably have room to cast offensive spells with impunity.   The two men on the back of the dragon together form a killing machine with no readily apparent weaknesses.   …None of the attacks of the other Servants and Masters were effective.   Assassin’s crossbow bolt and Caster’s Master’s bullet may just have melted in the great fire that Rider used to summon his dragon.   As for all of the spells—probably, Rider has a high-ranking magic nullification skill.   All of the great knight classes of Servant—that is to say, Saber, Archer, Lancer, and Rider all have defense against magecraft, and it would take an obscene kind of grand thaumaturgy or very highly-ranked skills to scratch him.   Even Caster, who I can tell is from an earlier age than these modern magi and is a strong Servant, must not have high enough of a rank in the spell she cast to do him any damage.   …And I’m sure that all those Masters must have known better.   But if they were aiming for Rider’s Master, their plan was a failure, as he is too well protected by Rider and the dragon to hit.   As I’m thinking this.   As I’m sure that all the other Masters and Servants watching this spectacle are thinking the same.   “—Nessiah, your orders?”   Rider’s voice rings clear and confident and tense.   Watching only the battlefield ahead of him, controlling and directing the dragon he rides by pressure exerted from his legs on its sides alone, Rider addresses his Master.   It’s far away.   But I can still see the Master named Nessiah close his dark eyes.   “———Blow them away.”   In that instant.   Rider swings his arm up, holding his scythe aloft, and there’s a swell of prana in the air like nothing I’ve ever seen before.   Even the ritual to summon Heckler was nowhere near this insane.   “Don’t tell me—his Noble Phantasm—?!”   Caster’s Master yells, but it’s already—   “—Prominence!!”   Rider invokes the name of his weapon.   And when he swings it down, the whole intersection is blotted out with fire.   The whole intersection is blotted out with fire, but—   “Rhapsodia—!”   A clear girl’s voice rings like a bell, and the fire is split with a pillar of light.   Everything is lit up like the day, and I have to close my eyes until it passes.   “—”   When I can look again.   The only figures remaining in the intersection are Saber, breathing painfully so that her shoulders are heaving, and her Master.   Little lights like fistfuls of glitter keep descending, like the remaining embers of Rider’s attack and Saber’s have melted together into tiny, flashing filaments of light.   It’s beautiful, like stardust is raining down.   …The ground seems scorched here and there, but I don’t see any corpses, and so—   “…Tch, so in the end they all ran away.”   Saber’s Master says so scornfully, speaking my own theory out loud.   “And you even wound up exposing your Noble Phantasm for them all to get a good look at, too… This is pathetic.”   “—I apologize, Rosary.”   Saber straightens up and turns to face her Master, so that I can see her face clearly for the first time.   …She’s really beautiful.   She has all that height, and illuminated by the little flickers, the part of her face that is left uncovered by that helmet is youthful and clear.   “Even so, if I had not countered Rider’s attack with that much strength, your life might have been in danger.”   …What Saber’s saying is correct.   Once a Servant has used their Noble Phantasm, which is supposed to be their ultimate trump card, you can’t expect to escape unscathed unless you meet their ante.   All the same, the magus named Rosary runs a hand through her long hair disdainfully.   “—Hmph.   “Maybe that’s true, but I don’t like it!   “If you had to expose yourself, then I would have preferred a victory at least.”   She sighs as if to proclaim, Ah, how useless.   “Honestly, the other Masters are fools too. Sneaking around and waiting for an opening, then running off when things get too hot for them to deal with, that’s cowardly.   “Don’t they have any pride as magi? It’s enough to make me sick just watching.”   Rosary continues to complain, as if only by airing her grudges can she keep herself from getting ulcers or the like.   “—Given the combat capabilities of the Servants Assassin and Caster, it is possible that they had no other choice.   “At the very least, both Rider and I are probably capable of overwhelming either of them in close-range combat.”   “—I know that!   “Geez, these other Masters just won’t let us pick them off so easily, even when they’re full of openings.”   Rosary clucks her tongue in annoyance.   She just keeps throwing her grievances and rough words at her Servant, and I can’t decide whether she looks foolishly petty or dangerous doing it.   “…We should retreat for the day.   “Other Masters may yet see the signs of battle and come to investigate, thinking an already exhausted victor to be an easy target.”   “—I know!!   “Who’s the Master and who’s the Servant here?! You don’t need to tell me something so obvious!!   “Hmph, we’re going back.”   And she goes off striding all by herself.   Saber remains still for a moment, cautiously looking around the neighborhood, but goes to follow her Master a few moments later.   “—”   …I can tell that it’s no good trying to follow them.   Saber’s Master is spoiling for a fight, and Saber herself is on guard against enemy attacks.   So I wait until I can’t sense either of them anymore, and then push myself up to sit on the roof without crouching, and sign to Heckler that we’re going back to the hotel.   “Then, I’ll take you there quickly.”   His voice echoes in my ears, just for me.   I nod, and relax as my Servant becomes corporeal.   —We’ll be taking the return journey at a pace so fast no one will be able to find or follow us.   By the time we return to the hotel room, it’s already past one in the morning.   “—For all that it was our first time out on patrol, there certainly was a lot to see.”   While I’m in the bedroom changing clothes, Heckler talks from the kitchenette.   …Obviously I can’t reply like this, but I agree, so I’ll let him talk.   “After observing the four enemy Servants, there is a lot to consider, and I’m sure that you have your own thoughts on all of this as well.   “Especially after we were able to witness two of the Servants’ Noble Phantasms.   “It’s just that…”   Heckler’s voice trails off.   I pause in pulling the bells and ribbons out of my hair and wait.   “—I think I may know Saber’s identity.   “And if I’m correct—then she’ll be a dangerous opponent to face later on.”   ……?   I’m not sure, because he’s in the other room and I can’t see his face.   And besides, this Servant has only been at my side for one day.   So I can’t really tell what the hesitation in his voice is coming from.   Even when I go back into the kitchen.   Heckler’s face is calm and unreadable.   —Do you need to rest too?   He looks back up at me.   …He seems to be normal, but I don’t think that that was just my imagination.   “No, as long as I’m in spirit form.   “Go ahead to sleep. I’m going to keep watch outside.”   —All right, then I’ll leave it to you.   I turn the lights off and get into bed.   It is late and the bed is warm, so despite all the things I should be thinking about, I go to sleep quickly without problems.