--------------------------------------------------------Stand my Ground!
Frozen in place, I don't have time to dodge.
I brace for impact and hope I'll survive the charging monster.
But before the black beast hits me, someone shoves me out of the way.
Saber!
Saber takes the brunt of the charge, flopping like wet paper on the windshield of a car.
“........!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”
It keeps going, smashing into the wall of the building across the street like a freight train.
Obscured by a cloud of dust, there's only the crunch of impact on the cement, and the wet squelch of flesh being hit.
Then....
SHING!
The ring of a sword fills the air, and the black beast is thrown from the settling cloud of pulverized masonry.
As he skids back on his feet, a twinge of recognition hits me.
I know this man.
But before I can remember his name he's gone, in a flash.
There. The beast trades blows with Saber, a long riding spear meeting each blow of the invisible weapon in Sabers hands.
Arturia tosses in a few bolts of lightning and even a blast of fire, which go unnoticed by the beast.
Sparks fly in all directions as the spear is deflected again and again without fail.
Then it smiles.
Suddenly the wind whirls fiercely, a gale the likes of which I had never seen.
Even Saber is buffeted by the force of the wind. Arturia and I throw ourselves to the ground helplessly just to avoid being picked up by the tornado.
The black beast, unhindered by it's own Noble Phantasm, charges in to strike down his foe!
Saber watches death approach, flint in her eyes, and tightens her grip on the handle of her blade.
More wind rushes out to meet the ongoing gale.
A thousand eddies of wrathful air rip at the clothes and flesh of everyone present.
“..................!!!!!!!!!!”
The beasts roar is distorted by the wind so badly it sounds almost as if he were spinning.
A golden blade is revealed.
“T-That's....!”
Arturia gasps, the rest of the statement whipped away in the jet-stream that encircles us.
Not that I needed it.
The sword makes itself known just by seeing it.
A true Noble Phantasm, a weapon so powerful that it, a inanimate object, feels no need to hide it's own name.
Excalibur, the Sword of Promised Victory.
The king of knights meets the whirlwind head on, charging the black beast which rips solid stone apart like so much paper.
Berserker meets the charge with enthusiasm.
Again the spear flashes through the air.
Again Excalibur counters.
The sun dies as the winds whirl.
Excalibur strikes!
The spear vanishes, to be replaced by a Mongolian saber.
Which meets Excalibur and drives the strike aside.
The beasts movement becomes suddenly much more fluid, as though he had always had his sword.
Like the east and western winds they represent, Saber and Berserker launch into a deadly dance of blades, every once in a while punctuated by the strike of a spear, or the twang of a short, composite bow.
Every time Saber attacks, she is beaten back.
Every time Berserker roars, he must scramble to defend himself.
But this contest of wills is also a contest of endurance.
And there's no way that a small girl like Saber possesses the same Endurance as the hulking beast of a man that is Berserker.
Even now, sweat is starting to bead on her brow, only to be blown away in the typhoon, turning into a wet bullet that hits less like a droplet of water and more like a thrown stone.
This is bad.
Saber grows more tired with every strike, but Berserker knows no exhaustion.
He will continue to fight until he collapses with the same amount of strength he possessed at the beginning, and no signs of slowing.
Saber, however, is growing weaker by the second.
She seems to notice this.
Her face hardens into a determined grimace.
She takes a deep breath.
This blade was not meant for use in a city like this.
And she is not supposed to be seen as a Servant.
But this Servant and his master have already broken that trust.
The damage may be hard to cover up.
But if this Servant has already destroyed this section of the city..........
As well, this area seemed deserted.
There's little choice.
If she doesn't use it now, Kiritsugu, Arturia.....
They will both die to this monstrosity.
She can't let that happen.
She will not sit by and watch children die.
Certainly not the children of Shirou.
“EX-----------------------------”
“...................!!!!!!!!!!!”
Berserker roars in defiance.
Her Prana, a massive amount she hadn't felt in years, flows into her blade.
The faerie blade glows with the light of the sun as it is filed with a absolutely staggering amount of Prana.
“----------------------CALIB-UH!”
Something smashes into her side, and her Noble Phantasm fizzles, releasing it's energy back into the environment.
“REGULATOR!”
Archer's revolver cracks, the bullet slamming into Berserker and hissing like acid.
The wind immediately stops whipping around us, dying in an instant, it's power cut.
Saber blinks.
Archer stands defiant against the wailing beast.
His brown coat still ripples in the breeze that was just there.
And in his hand..............
A steel revolver.
His thumb cocks the hammer back.
“Sorry I'm late, Missus. Or would that be Milady? Milord?”
“................!!!!!!!!!!!!”
Berserker roars and charges.
And is met by a small blonde girl.
Andrea?!
She smashes into him, and beyond belief lifts him up and throws him backwards.
She turns to glance back, and I notice her pupils are pinpricks inside of pools of red velvet, and the half smile she's wearing is marred by a small fang.
A vampire?!
“Archer, finish him off.”
“Of course, Master.”
Archer's hands are a blur as he stows his Noble Phantasm in his coat and draws out a bolt-action rifle.
BANG!
A bullet smashes into Berserker midair, causing him to twist.
“Berserker, return home. No need to fight two servants and a Dead Apostle.”
The echoing voice of Berserkers Master is hard to define. It's as if he or she were speaking through a voice filter.
Berserker heeds the order however, and vanishes into a golden whirl of dust.
Archer and Andrea relax slightly.
Archer puts a hand on his back and cracks it, almost like an old man.
“Honestly. Attacking in midday? Madman.”
He turns to us, as if only now remembering our presence.
“Hey, Kid. Saber. Kid's Loser Brother.”
Excuse me?
No time to get offended.
My eyes can't decide if they want to watch the Servant who can kill at a distance or the Vampire who doesn't need to.
Andrea's irises return to their sky blue state, and she rubs them as if waking up from a nap.
“Hi.”
Arturia discreetly slips behind me and Saber, drawing out a few rods of tungsten and one of copper.
Andrea smirks.
“No need to be so skittish. If I wanted you dead right now, I could have just let Berserker kill you.”
Her voice rings with the truth, but something in my gut tells me not to trust this girl.
Maybe the fact that she just sent one of the strongest Servants I've seen flying.
Maybe the fact that a more experienced magus recognized her as a Dead Apostle, a twisted vampire which feeds on blood for survival.
Maybe just because the smile she's wearing glints in the sun, making the fangs she's still sporting painfully obvious.
Archer is silent for a moment, rubbing his chin.
Then he speaks.
“I think introductions are in order. I think I've already figured out Saber's identity, so it wouldn't be fair if she didn't know mine.”
That right.
He's a Servant, but he used a revolver and a rifle.
And those clothes look straight out of a western movie.
Heroic Spirits stopped forming after....... I think it was the sixteenth century?
Possibly slightly later.
But none so late that they would be familiar with revolvers.
Certainly no Noble Phantasm I know of is a revolver.
“Fair fights are overrated.”
Andrea doesn't approve of Archer's idea.
It's obvious she intends to win at any cost, so of course she would hide her identity even if it was a lost cause.
Even if her Servant already used his Noble Phantasm, she would still keep silent about it, just to make it harder for the other side.
Fair fights are overrated, at least in her opinion.
“Ain't never lost a fair fight in my life.”
Archer responds cooly.
He whisks off his hat and bows to Saber.
“William Bonney, better known as Billy the Kid, at your service, Ma'am.”
Saber blinks, as do Arturia and I.
Then.
“Arturia Pendragon, King of Britain.”
Arturia blinks again.
So, now we know where Father got the name.
“Pleasure to make your acquaintance, your majesty.”
Archers tongue is smooth as quicksilver.
“I'm glad we never had to fight. A Heroic Spirit with your strength in legend might well wipe the floor with me. Outlaw like myself isn't equipped to fight kings and queens.”
He speaks honestly, and though Andrea purses her lips in annoyance, Saber seems enchanted.
“You saved my life, and brought low Berserker with ease. Do not disparage yourself so easily.”
Archer blushes.
“D-Rank Charisma, meet B-Rank.”
Arturia mutters something silly.
“Well, your majesty, it was just the element of surprise. Doubt we'll fare much better'n that next time.”
“Actually.”
Andrea finally speaks.
“I was thinking. Alliances aren't unheard of. And since Archer just gave away our trump card, I think there's already a good foundation for alliance right here. At least until Berserker is defeated, since he's the largest threat right now.”
Arturia bites her lip, and Saber looks thoughtful.
“I am in favor. Archer and Saber as classes complement each other quite well. And while I am unfamiliar with his legend, Archer does not strike me as one who will betray us at the slightest provocation.”
She sets her hands on her hips and glares at Andrea.
“However, I do not know if trusting a vampire is a wise course of action. If we do form an alliance, I will have my eye on you.”
Andrea shrugs.
“It's not like there aren't other sources of nutrition in the city. Feeding on your allies is generally considered bad manners.”
Saber scowls.
Arturia turns to look at me.
“Kiritsugu. I need to hear your thoughts on the matter.”
Right. I----------------------
1) I support this alliance.2) I can't trust them.
Author
Topic: Fate / Lunar Sun (Read 25957 times)