Juro gasped, each breath a harsh echo of the brutal battle he'd just endured. Sweat stung his eyes, blurring the image of Ruler, the self-proclaimed servant, as she effortlessly dispatched the remaining dragons.
Unlike his own desperate clash against the lone behemoth, Ruler moved with a chilling grace that mocked the carnage around her.
Her silver blade gleamed against the sunlight.
Each thrust was delivered with frightening precision.
Dragons.
Smaller but no less monstrous, fell one by one.
Both terror and awe filled Juro's brain like a pitcher.
His battered knife felt like a child's toy, a stark reminder of his limitations.
His body was in agony.
He'd pushed himself to the brink just fighting against a single dragon, yet this woman waltzed through the inferno, a reaper in a flowing cloak.
The last dragon, sensing its doom, fled with a panicked screech.
Ruler, fluid even in stillness, turned to Juro.
His face, injured with dozens of red marks on his face, told her exactly what she needed to know. But his eyes remained stubbornly shut, his body rigid.
"Excuse me, are you alright?"
A small tap on his cheek still did not move him.
That was when Ruler realized.
He was unconscious.
In a few moments, he fell to the ground, his back striking the dirt with a resounding thud.
Juro groaned as he regained consciousness, finding himself sprawled on a patch of soft grass that seemed more inviting than the battlefield he had just left.
He blinked, momentarily disoriented, before his gaze fixated on Ruler.
She sat opposite him on a nearby log, facing away as her imposing lance held upright like a sentinel.
Sunlight glinted off the polished metal.
Her cloak billowed gently in the breeze, revealing a glimpse of the massive ponytail that cascaded down her back..
God damn, that was a big ponytail.
He tried to rise, but the movement sent a jolt of pain through his body.
He was too far away to simply walk over and speak to her, so he lifted his arm with a wince and activated his watch. As soon as the screen flickered to life, a cacophony of voices flooded his ears.
"Juro! Are you okay?!" roared a familiar voice. It was Romani, his concern evident in the tone.
"Takahashi! Is everything alright?!" another voice chimed in, laced with urgency.
Da Vinci.
"Gah! I hear you!" Juro winced, momentarily overwhelmed by the sudden onslaught of audio.
"What happened?!"
Juro knew exactly what was coming.
Romani had witnessed his reckless charge into the fray, the sudden interruption of the watch's transmission… the inevitable scolding was about to commence.
He had to act fast, formulate a convincing lie before the verbal onslaught started.
Romani didn't need to know about the four knights, the terrifying dragon, or the near-death experience that left him gasping for breath earlier.
With a weary sigh, he forced a casual tone into his voice.
"Ugh, looks like my watch died!"
"Died?" Romani's voice sharpened with suspicion.
"Yeah," Juro continued, hoping the lie wouldn't unravel under scrutiny. "Look, I was fighting those knights, just like you saw, but then some Servant showed up and saved me. Said her name was… Ruler?"
"Ruler,"
Romani clarified, his tone implying that Juro should have known this already. "A class specifically designed for overseeing Grail Wars."
"Wait, this is a Grail War?"
Juro feigned ignorance, hoping to buy himself some time.
"You… haven't figured it out?"
"Well, whatever," Juro brushed it aside, desperate to change the subject. "Glad I'm okay now. Can you guys see where I am?"
"The watch broadcasts your location," Romani explained, seemingly pacified for now. "You're near Vaucouleurs."
"Doc, no Sheba Lens? Can't you just… zoom in?"
"It focuses on one target at a time, currently it's on Fujimaru," Romani reminded him. "Your watch, the Chaldea Observer, transmits location and offers a 360-degree camera feed."
"Ah."
"Sooo... Anything new while I was… indisposed?"
"We knew this, but…" Romani started, then paused. "Someone new had returned to life and attacked Fujimaru. "
"Jeanne d'Arc."
"Joan of Arc?" Juro raised an eyebrow, surprised by the name.
"Familiar?"
"Not really much of a history buff," Juro admitted sheepishly. "But I know she was some big French hero around this time, right?"
"Correct," Da Vinci's voice interjected, taking over the explanation. "France's national hero, the world's most famous saint. Fought the English during the Hundred Years War, and turned the tide at Orleans. However, she was captured in 1430, tortured, and burned at the stake by the English."
"Brutal way to go," Juro muttered, unable to shake the image of the fiery inferno.
"The British deemed her heretical."
The further intel revealed by Da Vinci painted a grim picture.
Mash and Fujimaru had gleaned from locals that Jeanne's attacks on both sides, English and French, had been so devastating, that the English fled back across the Channel, while the French king, Charles VII, lay dead.
With the country in paralysis, Jeanne now operated from Orleans, striking at nearby villages and settlements with ruthless efficiency.
"She must've been furious," Juro mused, trying to reconcile the reports with the image of Ruler. Just an evil one at that.
It was understandable, to a degree, but targeting your own people seemed… excessive.
He glanced at Ruler, her posture as rigid as a soldier's at attention.
"That all?" He asked Da Vinci.
Romani's voice crackled through the watch.
"Nope. Buckle up, Juro. She's been using… well, this might come as a surprise… dragons."
Juro felt a flicker of amusement.
He'd just barely survived one himself, not exactly peak shock material.
"Dragons? Wow..."
"They're part of a race of creatures known as phantasmal beasts, which are recorded monsters from various legends. Dragons top the food chain of that lot, due to them being one of the most prevalent creatures in mythology."
"Named dragons are particularly nasty," Da Vinci chimed in, "Even servants struggle against them."
?
Juro couldn't help but wonder how he'd managed to take down the one he encountered.
Then again, he didn't know it wasn't a "named" dragon.
This particular beast, ambitious and power-hungry, had deviated from its pack, growing in strength by devouring its kin.
It dreamt of consuming the large dragon that led the army and usurping its position, a dream cut short by Juro's blade. (scrawny knife.)
But that was a detail destined to remain buried.
"There's more," Romani continued, his voice suddenly serious. "Dragons shouldn't exist in 14th century France. This implies Jeanne summoned them, similar to a Servant. Which undeniably means she possesses a Holy Grail."
A sudden intuition gripped Juro.
"Hold on."
He pushed himself up, ignoring the protesting ache in his legs, and approached Ruler.
The grass under his feet crunched as he made his way towards the sitting cloaked figure.
Looking up, her sapphire eyes met his, reflecting a serene beauty devoid of sensuality or childishness.
It was not the kind of beauty one obtained from makeup or things of that caliber, no. It was pure and natural, something that caught Juro off guard.
"Ruler… are you, by any chance… Joan of Arc?"
He clenched his fist, bracing for the answer.
To be honest, it was nothing but a pure hunch.
Like a lazy attempt from the universe to get things going.
Ruler glanced down, then back up, her expression unreadable. "Yes," she confirmed.
Juro recoiled, mind racing, ready to sprint away.
Was she trying to lure him into a trap? Was she just moments away from killing him?
Jeanne raised her arms, her face pleading with him.
"But wait! I understand your anger, your need to defend yourself! Please, listen!"
Juro, still on edge, took one step in her direction, still on standby to begin running away.
Jeanne took a deep breath.
"...I have heard of the atrocities committed by the Dragon Witch, Jeanne d'Arc. But..."
Juro raised an eyebrow.
"—Aren't you Jeanne?"
"Yes, but I believe there might be two of us."
To be honest, with what Juro had seen at this point, this wasn't exactly the most shocking of information.
He simply sighed.
"Physically, it's impossible for me to be the Dragon Witch. I only manifested a few hours ago, with no prior memories before that."
"...Though, that's only if my memories are accurate."
Jeanne stared at the ground, her silence heavy.
"Eh... Kinda vague, wouldn't you say?" Juro asked as he ran his hand through his hair.
"Most likely due to an unstable spirit origin,"
Romani explained.
"Oh joy," Juro muttered, "more lore."
"Spirit origin, in layman's terms, is basically her essence, her existence. There's more to it, but those are just what you need to know for now."
Romani's voice crackled through the watch, addressing Jeanne directly.
"Saint Jeanne," he began, "we've noticed a significant decrease in your overall abilities. You lack access to many of your previous skills and knowledge, is that correct?"
Jeanne blushed faintly, nodding hesitantly.
"...Yes,"
A touch of embarrassment was sprinkled in her voice.
"I feel… incomplete, like a rookie Servant struggling to grasp their true power. It's quite… embarrassing."
Juro stretched, trying to ease the ache in his muscles.
"But you were summoned for a reason, right?" he countered. "From what I heard, You're a Ruler class, literally designed to oversee this mess. That doesn't sound weak to me."
Jeanne considered his words.
"Perhaps you're right," she conceded.
Jeanne stood up.
"One thing remains certain, however: I will liberate New Orleans, vanquish the Dragon Witch Jeanne. This time, no divine guidance, but even alone, I cannot abandon my nation."
Juro smirked.
"Then, allow me to formally introduce myself." He extended his hand for a handshake "Juro Takahashi, Master of—"
He caught himself mid-word, the word "humanity" dying on his tongue.
It sounded... cheesy.
His internal cringe-o-meter warred with the need for another word, his brain churning under pressure.
Heroes?
Hero of Justice?
No, all reeked of self-importance.
In a flash of misguided inspiration, he blurted, "Master Commander!"
Juro had a pesky habit of his brain overflowing with too many word choices, often leading to random blurting. He cringed remembering the time he tried buttering up the cafeteria server for extra apple juice. Wanting to be clever, he had racked his brain trying to come up with a complimentary moniker for her.
But then in the tense moment, his wired neurons betrayed him again - instead of "delightful lunch lady," out of his mouth tumbled: "Hey there, Hairless Gorilla, could I please have more juice?"
Juro was not a bad student, but would often get in trouble simply due to that one little gimmick.
The silence that followed the words: 'Master Commander' was heavier than a lead balloon filled with disappointment.
"Master Commander? Did you win that title in a Cracker Jack box drawing?" Romani asked.
Da Vinci could be heard giggling in the back.
"The cheesiness is practically radiating off you, Takahashi! It rivals my latest experiment in cheddar fondue!"
Juro groaned, ignoring the two crows.
"I may not be from this area, but I can't ignore this mess, either." He declared to Jeanne.
With a glint of steel in her sapphire eyes, Jeanne met his handshake, her gauntleted hand surprisingly warm.
"If you'll believe me—" Juro started, but Jeanne cut him off.
"Believe you?" she asked, her voice laced with amusement. "I've held that belief since the moment I saw you, standing alone against a dragon horde with a mere knife."
Juro fervently hoped Romani and Da Vinci hadn't caught that last part.
"L-looking forward to working together," he stammered.
Moonlight cast long shadows as Juro walked alongside Jeanne, a flickering lantern illuminating their path.
He was not exactly the most tired, as he had already gained enough rest earlier when he had been unconscious.
Soon, they'd meet up with Fujimaru, Mash, and three new Servants stationed at the nearby camp.
He slapped his face, groaning, as he swatted at persistent moths while Jeanne walked in thoughtful silence.
Chaldea's purpose, explained earlier, seemed insurmountable compared to her immediate struggle.
Perhaps-
Suddenly, haunting echoes filled Jeanne's head:
"Janet! Please come back!" followed by the choked sobs of a grieving mother.
Prior to meeting Juro, Jeanne had encountered her own mother, still mourning her daughter's death.
Jeanne had been summoned 3 days after her death.
The longing to comfort her mother was immense, but Jeanne knew she was a Heroic Spirit, not truly alive. There was truly nothing she could do.
...
She could not show her face after all.
Not after leaving home for so long.
"I've grown thinner, mother," she whispered, tears pricking her eyes. "I wish to see your face too…"
"What was that?" Juro turned, scratching his nose.
"Nothing," she replied, forcing a smile.
Just then, a cloud of smoke erupted, sending Juro flying backward.
As he tumbled, he tried to get a grasp on the ground, only resulting in pockets of dirt in his hands.
He sprawled on the ground, disoriented, before catching his breath.
"It seems like our scaly friend is not happy," a playful voice taunted.
Emerging from the smoke stood a girl clad in a curious outfit...
Wait – a kimono in France?
Her long green hair seemed almost unnatural, topped with… horns.
The entire ensemble screamed 'cosplay'.
Not 14th-century France.
Juro imagined overweight men wearing knight armor coming out of the bushes and screaming, "Hey! That's not the theme of this LARP!"
He grinned at this stupid thought.
"Cheeky, cheeky squirrel from the east!" another voice echoed, belonging to a girl further away, clad in an equally bizarre idol-esque outfit complete with oversized, horn-like bows along with the icing on the cake...
Pink hair.
Juro blinked, utterly bewildered.
Were these… Servants?
"Hehe," The kimono-wearing servant's voice was a playful chirp, yet her eyes held a glint of steel.
"Who's the real rogue here, dear Elizabeth? Do you truly think a failure like you can match the might of a true dragon?" Her fan fluttered, a mocking accessory.
Said Elizabeth's anger flared. "Ugh, seriously?! You grate on my nerves! I'll deal with Carmilla later!" She pointed at the Kimono-wearing servant.
"Creepy stalker! You're toast first!"
Juro and Jeanne, caught in the crossfire of this verbal duel, exchanged bewildered glances. Was Jeanne used to seeing things like this?
"I am not a stalker!" The servant's pout was as theatrical as her attire. "Merely a devoted... 'bodyguard who employs unconventional methods.'"
Juro couldn't help but mutter, "Unconventional being generous..."
The Kimono-wearing servant, with a flourish, proclaimed, "I, Kiyohime, am a woman who lives only for love!"
"Your 'love' tramples on human rights!" Elizabeth shot back.
Kiyohime shuttered her fan, raising an eyebrow.
"Coming from a blood-soaked bather? I wouldn't judge so harshly, dear. You were likely indulging in THAT before our little encounter."
"What do you mean by 'that'?! You're delusional!"
"Ah, so you're a-"
"Ahh! Shut up, shut up, shut up! I'll kill you!" Elizabeth screamed, lunging forward, fury painting her blue eyes.
"...You won't be able to kill me because I'll kill you!"
The tension crackled in the air as Jeanne approached the bickering duo.
"Please," she began in a soft voice, "could you two settle your-"
Both Kiyohime and Elizabeth snapped their heads towards her, silencing mid-insult.
"I am busy." Kiyohime retorted dismissively. "Come back… two days ago."
"..."
"...What?"
Elizabeth scoffed as she placed her hands on her hips, glaring at Kiyohime. "You won't be busy for long… not until the next Grail, that is!"
The name-calling began, reaching new heights of absurdity.
"Frilled neck lizard!"
"Japanese rat snake!"
"Mexican bearded lizard!"
"Sharp-nosed viper!"
Juro groaned, burying his face in his hands. This medieval fantasy was turning into a middle school cafeteria brawl, complete with nonsensical insults.
"Black Mamba!"
"Japanese grass lizard!"
His ears couldn't take it anymore.
"Both of you! Shut. UP!"
The sudden outburst stunned them both.
"What did you just say?" Both of them, miraculously, said at the same time.
Kiyohime, merely glared, while Elizabeth brandished a lance that looked suspiciously like a microphone on one side.
Medieval France? Microphone? Weren't servants those who lived in the past?
Juro's head spun. Was his sanity slipping?
Seeing the now sudden gravity of the situation, Juro backed away as Jeanne took a defensive stance, brandishing her spear.
Both girls radiated anger towards the two, their faces obscured by the night's shadows.
Kiyohime, her voice laced with ice, spoke, "Bravery and recklessness are not the same. Please do not confuse the two with one another. You will die as a result. Unless you are well, for a lack of better words, stupid."
Juro groaned loudly.
"Cmon! You two are squabbling like siblings on whose turn it is on the console! And I'm the one being labeled the stupid one here!? The delusion is real!"
Jeanne turned to Juro, concern etched on her face. "Takahashi, are you angry?"
Before Juro could answer, he unleashed a torrent of frustration first.
"What are you two even arguing about, anyway?! It's just name-calling!"
"At least get creative! Even I can come up with better..."
Takahashi Juro stopped speaking once he realized what he had just done.
The girls bristled, their anger reaching a boiling point.
"Now I'm truly enraged!" Kiyohime growled.
"You'll regret those words," Elizabeth hissed, her voice dripping with venom.
"Let's teach them a lesson!"
"What happened to the constant arguing?! Has peace triumphed?! Have the two servants-"
Juro's heart hammered against his ribs as Elizabeth thrust her microphone-lance at him, faster than he could even register.
"CLANG!"
Jeanne, with surprising agility, parried the blow, metal scraping against metal.
Juro's frantic thoughts were cut short by the resounding clang of a shield against Kiyohime who was just about to attack Juro from the back, sending her reeling back.
A familiar sight filled Juro's eyes as he laid them on the signature purple hair and shield.
Relief washed over him as he saw Fujimaru and Mash standing beside him, along with two newcomers.
One, a man with an outlandish purple and green outfit and flowing blonde hair, The other, a girl with silver hair and a mushroom hat.
What kind of getup...
"Takahashi!" Fujimaru exclaimed, a grin splitting his face.
"Fujimaru." Juro echoed, relief washing over him. "How… what…?"
Before he could finish, Kiyohime lunged at Fujimaru, only to be met by Mash's unwavering shield.
As the fight carried on, Elizabeth shouted:
"You'll never defeat us! We're unstoppable!"
That was not the case.
Elizabeth and Kiyohime slumped against each other, groaning.
"You... got us good," Kiyohime admitted with a hint of grudging respect.
Mash approached the defeated pair, her eyes narrowed as she prepared to ask a torrent of questions to the two, who most probably knew a good amount of information about this singularity.
Meanwhile, Juro found himself captivated by the strange gentleman in the hat and the girl with the weird mushroom hat.
It was so strange to look at it, but he could not take his eyes off that clothing.
The man turned, catching Juro's gaze.
"My apologies if my appearance is startling," Juro felt like he had offended him simply by staring. "But more importantly, I believe Fujimaru would like to speak to you."
"Oh?"
"Indeed." The man said with a slightly annoyed tone as he gestured towards Fujimaru, who was observing Mash question Kiyohime and Elizabeth.
Juro walked over to his companion, curiosity etching his face.
"So, uh, what'd I miss?"
Fujimaru chuckled nervously.
"A lot."
He proceeded to explain how his journey to Singularity took him face-to-face with the Dragon Witch, who, to his surprise, turned out to be Jeanne.
Juro noted that when Fujimaru mentioned Jeanne, he made a dramatic face as if it was a huge plot twist.
Once again, not exactly peak shock material.
Romani had revealed the existence of another potential Jeanne to Fujimaru, further muddying the waters.
He recounted how he was unexpectedly saved by his newly acquainted servants – Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart and Queen Marie Antoinette.
Juro felt his jaw drop at the mention of those two legendary figures, but at this point, it did not faze him as much.
The Dragon Witch had also unleashed a wave of berserk Servants, all of which were extremely powerful, and were actively causing destruction to nearby villages.
Luckily, Fujimaru's group had managed to escape and began searching for further information on the Dragon Witch to help them defeat her.
After almost a day of searching, Fujimaru, the only human in the group, required sleep. They had all decided to find a safe clearing for a campsite to rest for the night.
"On our way to a campsite," Fujimaru continued, "we heard the fight erupting here."
So Fujimaru had his own thing going on, Juro thought. It was kind of recurring to know that Juro was not the only one struggling out here.
"So, this Jeanne..." Fujimaru gestured towards the figure, who seemed to try to stay away from the others, perhaps fearful of her reputation. "Is she the 'other' one?"
Juro shrugged. "Yeah. She saved me earlier from some dragons and introduced herself as such." He scratched his back. "I don't really doubt her being Joan, given the fact she's a servant and all. And..."
Juro glanced at Jeanne.
"...Something tells me that she would never lie."
"Never mind that. What's your next move?" Juro asked.
"First things first," Fujimaru announced, "we need a new campsite. Then, come morning, we'll look out other Servants to help us against 'Dark Jeanne'."
"Wow, Fujimaru Ritsuka, now the leader of the group," Juro smirked.
Fujimaru scratched the back of his head sheepishly.
"Just playing, don't really care if I get ordered around... But wait,"
"...other servants?"
"Indeed," a voice confirmed, seemingly emanating from Fujimaru himself. It was Romani, his words delivered through the Rayshift Communication Device.
"Guh..."
Juro shuddered.
The voice seemingly came from Fujimaru.
"...Doc, where's your voice coming from?... It's kinda creepy,"
"It's only creepy if you believe it is!"
Juro gave Fujimaru a concerned look and lifted his arm as if checking for hidden speakers.
"During a Singularity, the Grail can summon multiple Servants for reasons we're still investigating," Romani explained.
"Remember I told you back in Fuyuki that Servants need Masters to supply them with mana?"
"In this Singularity, though, they're roaming free without Masters."
"But," Romani continued, a hint of excitement in his voice, "you can contract with them!"
"Become their Masters, you mean?"
"Exactly! A Servant without a Master is limited in power. Chaldea channels magical energy through you, allowing you to form contracts. However, we have no idea how much strain taking on multiple Servants will put on you, so be cautious."
Suddenly, Elizabeth, now brimming with renewed energy, declared, in Juro's ear:
"I guess we'll join you! There's nothing else to do here!"
Her voice was especially high pitched, knocking Juro to the ground, clutching his ears.
"Senpai?!"
"Takahashi?!"
Kiyohime, fan fluttering, added, "Suppose I'll tag along, just to keep this mamba in check."
"Grass snake!" Elizabeth retorted.
Juro practically screamed in pain as the constant assault on his ears began once again.
The journey brought unexpected company as Juro learned more about his newfound allies.
Marie actually originally belonged to this country, coincidentally summoned to this singularity, which was interesting.
Marie approached Jeanne, who had been walking in silence. She then clasped her hands.
"Jeanne d'Arc! Your exploits have warmed my heart! Meeting you is an honor indeed!"
Jeanne felt the warmth crawl up her cheeks, unaccustomed to such open admiration. Despite past ridicule and scorn, here were people welcoming her with genuine acceptance.
"Your majesty, I have not done anything to be praised for...."
"Nonsense! Your valiant efforts that saved the country were nothing short of admirable! I have always wanted to meet you!"
"I-I suppose so..."
It was surreal.
After another stretch of walking through the dark forest, which was infested with all kinds of insects, the group finally reached a clearing on the outskirts of Lyon, ideal for their temporary campsite.
"Allow us introductions," Marie announced, taking center stage. "Marie Antoinette, your Rider at your service."
One by one, they revealed themselves:
Elizabeth Bathory, Lancer.
Mozart, Caster, who apparently knew Marie from back in the day.
And finally, Kiyohime, Berserker.
Juro glanced at Kiyohime, surprised.
Berserkers weren't supposed to be beautiful Japanese women, were they? He envisioned some hulking brute with a weapon the size of a house.
Fujimaru, confused, leaned in next to Mash and whispered, "I'm not exactly a history buff... mind explaining to me who these guys are?"
"Allow me Senpa—" Mash started, only to be cut off by Juro.
Taking a deep breath, he launched into his introductions.
"Marie Antoinette, Queen of France, met an unfortunate end during the revolution. Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, Austria's musical prodigy, you most probably know him already. Elizabeth Bathory..."
"Guh.."
Juro shuddered. Good thing she wasn't listening.
"...the Blood Countess, known for bathing in the blood of young women, a figure who inspired vampire legends." He said in a single breath, eager to explain before he was caught by the small girl.
A shiver ran down his spine as he uttered the last part.
"And Kiyohime..." He turned to her. She was waving her fan as she argued with Elizabeth.
"Well, uh, she turned into a big angry dragon, and roasted her fiance, I think."
"Those last two are definitely... something," Fujimaru whispered.
Romani's voice crackled through the Rayshift device. "Surprised you know so much, Juro. I thought you weren't too keen on history."
"Hey, I just didn't know much about Joan,"
Juro clarified, glancing at Jeanne.
"Er... No disrespect, of course."
"It is fine."
"Anyway," Romani continued, "these are definitely Servants, but the sheer number of them in the singularity is strange."
"Strange how?"
"In Fuyuki, the Holy Grail War only allowed seven Servants at most. Here, there are many more."
"We have a theory," Mozart began, responding to Romani's voice.
"In a Grail War, only the victor claims the Grail. Yet, the Dragon Witch already possesses it. There are many inconsistencies, but they might be clues. We believe the Grail itself summoned us to rectify these anomalies."
"The Grail can summon?" Juro scratched his head, bewildered.
"Impossible," Romani scoffed. "There's no precedent for that."
"But we are proof, are we not?" Mozart countered, his smile unwavering. "Servants without Masters. You, too, Jeanne d'Arc, are you not?"
Jeanne's gaze remained downcast. "I... I do not fully understand myself," she mumbled.
Juro watched her, noticing her sadness and withdrawn nature.
It was understandable.
Jeanne d'Arc, someone who bravely fought for her country, was now berated and derided, simply for even being present in an area.
It filled Juro with a sense of injustice.
"So that's our story," Mozart concluded. "Now, tell us your purpose, voyagers. ....Or should we say, drifters?" He asked, directing his question to Romani.
"Ah, well you see..." Romani began.
Understanding dawned on the group as Romani relayed the dire situation - humanity's incineration and Chaldea's desperate mission.
Shock etched itself on the Servants' faces.
Marie rose to her feet. "Then we have all the more reason to defeat this Dragon Witch!"
"But we're at a disadvantage," Romani cautioned, his voice grim.
Fujimaru frowned. "What do you mean? Don't we have more Servants?"
"Numbers alone won't suffice," Mozart explained.
"Marie and I aren't suited for frontline combat, and Jeanne and Mash seem weakened. The Dragon Witch's Servants, on the other hand, are formidable warriors. Additionally, they have the mighty dragon Fafnir at their command. Finding allies is crucial."
Romani added, "It would be ideal for you two to split up, Fujimaru, Juro, but that also increases the risk of encountering an enemy Servant alone. Stay together. Remember, the Dragon Witch likely knows of the other Servants. Recruit them before she does. Our ultimate goal is a final battle in Orléans, where we reclaim the Grail."
The two Masters from Chaldea nodded solemnly, understanding the gravity of the mission and the weight of their responsibility.
The dim lantern illuminated a cramped tent, casting dancing shadows on the worn canvas walls.
Juro stared at the ceiling, his thoughts swirling like the smoke rising from the nearby campfire. Sleep eluded him, the weight of their situation pressing down on his chest.
"Hey, Fujimaru, you awake?"
A rustle stirred from the other side.
"Yeah?" came a muffled reply.
Their tiny shelter barely accommodated them. While Servants like Mash could endure without rest, humans like Juro and Fujimaru craved the solace of sleep.
Yet, sleep felt like a stolen luxury in the face of impending doom.
"About this whole mess," Juro began, his voice barely above a whisper, "don't you ever feel overwhelmed?" He stared at the ceiling,
Fujimaru was silent for a moment, the tension tangible in the air.
"Yes," he admitted.
"More than ever. But... leaving everything as gone, giving up? I can't accept that."
Fujimaru glanced at his hand, his expression unreadable.
"I want to survive, sure. But more than that, I want to make a difference. Even if I'm not some grand hero, if I have the chance to change things..."
A chuckle escaped Juro's lips.
"Hero or not, you've done some pretty damn heroic stuff, Fujimaru. Stuff that takes guts, and that's pretty heroic if you ask me."
A beat of silence followed. "What about you?" Fujimaru asked, his voice curious.
"Me?" Juro scoffed.
"...Honestly, it's all a lot to process. But..."
He took a deep breath.
"Saving others, being a hero... maybe it sounds childish, but that's what I truly desire. I want to help people, make a real impact."
No answer came from Fujimaru. Juro turned, concern creeping in.
"Fujimaru?"
He found his companion fast asleep, his face serene despite the turmoil they both witnessed.
Restless, Juro slipped out of the tent, the cool night air nipping at his face.
Outside, Servants milled about, some conversing in hushed tones, others lost in their own thoughts. He wandered to a clearing, gazing at the vast expanse of the night sky for the first time in years.
Growing up in San Francisco, a city perpetually cloaked in light pollution, he barely remembered seeing real stars. But here, they winked down at him like countless tiny diamonds, each holding its own silent story. The moon, a luminous pearl, bathed the forest in a gentle glow.
The beauty of the scene was oddly jarring, a stark contrast to the horrors they faced. Images flashed in his mind – the burning village, the fallen villagers, the Director's hopeless screams.
He squeezed his eyes shut, forcing down the rising tide of nausea.
He wouldn't succumb to these emotions. He was a hero, a tool for humanity's salvation. Personal feelings were a luxury he couldn't afford.
At least, he had taken down the Dragon that had made those villagers suffer so much.
Dragon.
Dragon Witch.
His fists clenched. Her name tasted like ash in his mouth. She was the source of this chaos, the one unleashing dragons upon an unsuspecting land. He understood her anger, her desire for revenge, but this? This indiscriminate slaughter against her own people?
A sigh escaped his lips.
"Takahashi, are you alright?"
A gentle voice startled him. He whipped around to find Jeanne d'Arc standing there, her expression etched with concern.
"Joan! Just couldn't sleep, that's all," he muttered, embarrassed.
"Ah. Well, I'll be going then."
Jeanne turned around, a false smile etched face. Juro felt a need to confront her.
"Wait!"
"?"
"Well, I just wanted to ask: Are you alright? I've just noticed that ever since I ran into you, you've been... how can I say, sad?"
No response.
Juro shook his head.
"...Ah, sorry for asking. It's probably something personal..."
"The stories of this witch," Jeanne confessed, her voice heavy, "they grow darker with each passing day."
"Yet, the most troubling thought..." she paused, biting her lip, "is the uncertainty of my own identity. Am I truly Jeanne d'Arc?"
"..."
Juro's gaze drifted back to the star-studded sky.
"...If the Jeanne d'Arc I heard about wouldn't do these things," he said slowly.
"...then I believe you're the closest representation I've seen."
He smiled.
"Maybe it's not based on facts, but I trust my gut that you're the real Jeanne."
Jeanne smiled back.
"Thank you, Takahashi."
Any man who saw that face would instantly melt in seconds.
Juro felt a blush creep up his neck.
He scrambled to his feet, hoping she hadn't noticed his flustered state.
"N-No problem! Just, uh, doing my Master duty! Anyway, I think I'm suddenly..." Juro forced his most sincere fake yawn. "Oh, soo tired all of a sudden! Wow-"
Suddenly, the embarrassing moment was shattered by the rustling of nearby bushes. Mash and Fujimaru emerged, their expressions etched with urgency.
"Senpai, Miss Jeanne!" Mash exclaimed, barely catching her breath. "There's a battle underway! Innocent people are being attacked right now!"
A band of knights fought desperately in a clearing, surrounded by smaller dragons.
Wyverns.
These creatures lacked size but swarmed relentlessly, their attacks picking off the defenders one by one.
Leading the knights, a man with long black hair barked orders, urging them to stay vigilant against the cunning beasts.
"They're intelligent! They'll pick you off if you show your back!"
Due to the fact that they could fly, the wyverns often swooped down, delivering deadly strikes from above.
"GAH!"
The formation faltered as another knight fell, a wyvern tearing into his back.
Panic flared, echoing in a knight's desperate cry before another wyvern silenced him.
The leader gritted his teeth, despair creeping in. They were seconds away from annihilation.
The sound of footsteps came from the front of the group.
It was Marie Antoinette.
She smiled at the group, despite the dire circumstances.
"...Excuse me, noble knights. I'm going to sing a little."
She sang a melody that blossomed into a breathtaking song. Her voice, a symphony of pure magic, soared through the air. Pink light erupted from her, bathing the clearing in an ethereal glow.
This was one of her abilities, Alluring Euphony.
With her voice alone, she possessed a strange charm, influencing minds, especially those susceptible to its melody, most effectively working on males.
As it turned out, all the attacking wyverns were male.
Unable to resist the irresistible song, they turned on each other, a macabre dance to their own destruction, tearing each into each other as their numbers began to dwindle.
Seeing this, the knights sped up the process by slaying all of them.
With the dragons eliminated, the knights stood bewildered, shaken back to reality by the silence. They stared at Marie, awe replacing fear.
"My voice," she explained, her voice sweet and melodic, "is the symbol of royal authority, a remnant of past kings. It embodies a king's power to lead and guide." She smiled, "Or, in simpler terms, my voice is a weapon."
Surveying the fallen dragons, she added, "It seems my voice reaches dragons too. Lucky chance indeed."
"Who are you?" the knight leader inquired, still stunned.
"Marie Antoinette!"
A voice called from inside the forest.
Marie turned to greet Jeanne, who emerged from the woods with Juro, Mash, and Fujimaru.
"Oh hello!" Marie said in a sing-songy voice.
"Are Amadeus and the others with you?"
"Oh no, they're still at the tent.."
"Ah, well! More importantly!" Marie clasped the maiden's hands. "Running to aid civilians in distress just like the Maid of New Orleans! You live up to
my expectations, even surpassing them!"
Jeanne blushed, embarrassed, "Please, Marie Antoinette, stop! It's embarrassing to be praised without actually..."
"Thud!"
Suddenly, a rock slammed into Jeanne's head. It was followed by another, thrown by an enraged French soldier.
Soon, all soldiers turned on Jeanne, their faces contorted in anger.
"HEY!"
Juro called out from the back.
He felt anger rise up.
"What the hell is wrong with you all?!"
He pointed at the group, all of which ignored him.
All of them had an enraged look on their faces, one that consisted of both pain and anger.
"Jeanne d'Arc!" One of the soldiers called out as they all brandished their swords.
"It's all your fault!" Another called out.
They all began pelting stones at Jeanne, except the knight with black hair, desperately trying to stop them.
Juro was just a heartbeat away from charging at them. Why was no one else doing anything?!
Why?!
But then, something clicked In his head.
It clicked.
These were rocks. Large, heavy, hurled with hate. This was not just random cruelty; it was pain seeking a target, grief lashing out blindly. These soldiers did not know.
They hadn't seen the true Dragon Witch, the twisted doppelganger that had ravaged their country.
Juro watched as the group began to pelt stones at Jeanne in silence.
He clenched his fist.
But he could not let someone who had suffered so much for her country be pelted by it, even if they did not know she was innocent.
A heavy silence descended as the stones rained down on Jeanne. She stood there, absorbing the blows, silent and stoic.
Even if it meant taking it on himself...
Takahashi Juro took a step.
Even if it meant taking it on himself to endure pain, he would resolve this problem.
Stones kept raining.
"Traitor!" "Witch!" they screamed, their faces filled with pure hate and pain.
The pain flared, but Juro ignored it, his gaze fixed on the angry mob.
He raised his hands, open and vulnerable, inviting the onslaught.
The soldiers paused, confused by his sudden act.
Jeanne raised her head, only for her eyes to rest on the back of the head of this so-called 'hero'.
A stubborn, truly stupid hero who thought his actions would be translated to the other side as 'heroic'.
Of course, being a pure maiden, she saw this as a moment of absolute strength.
She had never been shielded in her life, so seeing this was a shock for her.
...
...What truly stupid individuals.
But morally correct ones.
The soldiers were not to blame in this situation. They had been fighting a war for their country for over a hundred years, only for their country to fall to one of its so-called heroes.
Taking all of it down in just 3 days.
They were not to blame.
Takahashi Juro acknowledged that.
"DIE! Die again!" One of the soldiers called out.
They loved their country.
Takakshi Juro acknowledged that.
"It's all ruined because of you!"
"Your death will be an apology for all those you killed!"
They were angry.
Takahashi Juro acknowledged that.
JJuro inhaled sharply, his lungs ready to fuel the storm of words he'd unleash upon these misguided soldiers.
But before he could bellow, a new voice cracked the tense silence.
"Good evening everyone," it drawled, dripping with false cheer. "what a lonely night."
The speaker emerged from the shadows, her purple hair cascading down her back. Her attire screamed danger – a black bodysuit ripped at the edges, its drape pooling ominously on the ground, along with long ribbons on the sides of her head.
She screamed DANGER.
Mash instinctively adopted a battle stance. "It's one of the Dragon Witch's servants!" she cried.
Juro felt his eyes widen.
"We need to head back to camp to-"
"Don't concern yourselves with your friends," she said, each word dripping with honeyed venom.
"I'm certain they're… otherwise occupied."
The cryptic remark hung in the air, heavy and suffocating. Back at the camp, Mozart, Elizabeth, and Kiyohime clashed with two berserker servants, echoing the unsettling symmetry of their predicament.
Juro gritted his teeth, wiping away a trickle of blood from his temple. "She's not the Dragon Witch," he muttered, his voice low and gravelly, "but she seems like she probably packs a hell of a punch."
"We've got a weakened Jeanne, Mash, and Marie... But I don't think we can win." Fujimaru added.
Juro's breath hitched. The weight of their situation pressed down on him, heavy and suffocating.
The enigmatic servant stepped closer, her gaze lingering on Jeanne. "What a poignant narrative," she began, her cold eyes softening with a ghost of pity. "
Twice you've strived to save your nation, yet both times branded an enemy. Tell me, Jeanne d'Arc, what consumes you now? Does your love for France remain unwavering, so much to the point you would die for it again? Or perhaps… does a darker desire stir within you? The desire to kill them all?"
Silence stretched, thick and heavy. Every eye was on Jeanne, waiting for her answer.
"Normally, I would feel frustration, despair," she began, her voice steady and clear.
"The burden of my flawed existence would also weigh heavily on me. But…"
Then, a smile bloomed on the Maiden of Orlean's face, as radiant as the sun breaking through storm clouds.
The world seemed to hold its breath.
And then, her words shattered the oppressive tension. "If by hating me, it helps them stand up, then I think it's a good thing."
Everyone in that area had a surprised look on their face.
Everyone.
Juro felt a pang in his chest – a mixture of admiration and heartache.
This girl, she loved her country with a love so profound, so selfless, that she was willing to be its shield, even if it meant being pierced by its very own arrows.
"If they can stand together, that matters more than I do. I think that's much more important." She continued.
'Matters more than I do.'
Juro stood frozen, a tempest brewing within him. This girl, Jeanne, did not deserve to sacrifice her well-being for others.
He did.
He did.
As a hero, he did.
"I like that answer you know? It's simply too bad that she wouldn't however." The servant replied to Jeanne, smirking.
Juro's fist clenched, knuckles white.
"Magical energy fluctuations detected! Master, she's approaching!" Mash shouted to Fujimaru, deploying her shield on the ground, protecting both masters.
Juro raised his fist. Now was the moment.
Jeanne needed mana, and the only way she could get mana was by contracting with a master. So he would be that source of mana. Maybe that would help turn the tide of this battle, so he was going to...
"I'm going to form a contract."
"?!"
Confusion washed over Fujimaru and Mash. Romani's voice crackled through the communicator, "Hold on, Juro! You're in no condition! The magical drain could be fatal!"
"Sorry doc, I'm not the type to sit on my ass. I'm just the stubborn type who'll do stupid shit."
Juro imagined the cracking of bones as he raised his left arm.
He was the only one that was going to struggle.
He was the only one who was going to save EVERYONE.
A searing pain ripped through his arm as his command seal pulsed with a dangerous red light. His body convulsed, wracked by the strain of channeling mana he didn't have.
His sleeve exploded.
Fujimaru rushed to his side, but Juro pushed him away with a weak hand. "Stay back," he gasped, his voice raspy.
"I got this."
The servant finally grasped what Juro was doing. Panic flared in her eyes, and she lunged forward with a menacing cross-shaped weapon.
Mash intercepted her, blocking her attack with her shield. Marie launched herself at the servant, desperate to buy Juro some time.
Juro ignored the chaos around him, focusing all his remaining energy on the contract formation. It felt like his circuits were screaming, threatening to overload. But he pushed on, driven by a single unwavering thought: to help Jeanne, to save everyone.
"Hear my call!"
"The chant of a contract...!" The servant yelled.
"THOU BODY SHALL BELONG TO ME!"
"THOU SWORD SHALL ABIDE BY MY FATE!"
With each booming declaration, agony lanced through him, but Juro pressed on. He saw it now, mana flowing from him to Jeanne.
The boy did not know something, however.
This was not mana.
"IN ACCORDANCE WITH THE HOLY GRAIL! IF THOU SHALL OBEY THIS FEELING! THIS REASONING!"
Across the battlefield, the servant saw her opening.
Mash and Marie lay stunned, her path to Juro clear. A cruel smile twisted her lips as she raised her cross like a macabre cannon.
"It is over!" she roared, two portals snapping open around Juro, spewing energy he ignored.
"I only need a second to raise my cross! Pulverize my opponents!"
A warning shrieked in Juro's ears, Fujimaru's desperate cry.
"Takahashi!"
"Senpai!"
His eyelids snapped open, burning with a defiance that transcended pain.
"OBEY MY COMMAND!" he bellowed, his voice resonating with the intensity of a dying star.
"THEN WITH THIS FATE! THOU SHALL BEAR OUR FLAG!!!"
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A burst of light erupted from the sky.
Takahashi opened his eyes.