Nasuverse Holding Back the Sea

[B.B. Rain]

He's a magi. That means:

Lie, lie, lie your ass off if you think it'll give you an advantage, or avoid an unwanted obstacle. Which extends to acting/faking useful behaviors.

Rather then wasting command seals on a diversion that probably wouldn't work (sending Lancer to abduct Rin as a hostage) he's keeping to a practical goal: killing Caster, to directly remove a Servant and score some Command Seals.

Plus now he knows both more about Berserker (and how to avoid getting targeted as a higher priority by him), and that Lancer takes his own honor very seriously.

So rather then taking the Kiritsugu route, i.e. ignore your Servants' own thoughts and feelings and order them to obey without actually using a Command Seal, he'll find a meeting point between his pride and his Servants', and rely on his own sense of superiority rather then scrabbling for every possible advantage.

He'll save himself a lot of headaches that way, and Lancer will be more willing to give it his all.

 

[Ryuugi]

XxXXxX

The battle, which had been approaching its climax, came to a sudden halt. Caught between the sharpened blade of SaberÆs fury and the frank desire for the kill that radiated off of Archer and Rider, even CasterÆs twisted mind was able to come to the obvious conclusion.

He would die.

Even with all his demons, with those three kings united against him in their anger, there was no hope of survive with things the way they were; they would slay him without thought, without remorse, and completely without hesitation.

The current situation was one that it seemed obvious could only end in his death.

ùBut things like that mean nothing to æHeroes.Æ The elevated spirits of mankind that could be considered an actual natural phenomenon, they were existences on par with Divine Spirits; even summoned as Servants, it would not be an exaggeration to say they were some of the strongest beings in the entire world. Even if, because they are fundamentally human, they do not have the personal power to contend with the greatest of Spirits, every Heroic Spirit possessed Noble Phantasms, crystallizations of their legendsùand with them, they could rival even the power of the Gods themselves.

And so, Caster did not feel fear. As long as he still had PrelatiÆs Spellbook there was no reason to be afraidùthat is what he truly believed. A Noble Phantasm he possessed even though he had only funded and participated in the rituals lead by the magus Prelati, it was nothing but an Italian translation of a Chinese translation of the original; but even so, its power could not be denied.

Caster looked past his demonic horde, staring at Saber and ignoring the other two kings completely. Emotions and expressions that sane men couldnÆt hope to understand flickered across his face.

Was he happy about what he was about to do?

Was he sad?

It would take a mind as twisted as CasterÆs own to say.

But in the end, it didnÆt matter what he felt, for the book of Francois Prelati opened at his command and its power gathered in an instant. It swelled up into a dark torrent of twisted magic; like the gasping hands of a drowning man breaking the surface of the ocean, that power bubbled up to the surface and stretched towards the sky.

It was truly something extraordinary; a ritual magecraft that would have taken at least ten magi to be cast, and yet CasterÆs Noble Phantasm handled it alone, distorting the space around it as a mere side effect. An extraordinary prana furnace that could cast magecraft independently of anyone elseùin the hands of a madman, there were few weapons that could be considered as dangerous as this.

The sheer power of that spell rippled throughout the city and it was impossible for anyone who had even the slightest bit of talent as a magi not to notice. The abnormal chaos of the spell was enough to cause pain in a magus.

Caster knew that anyone who had not already noticed the happenings of this night would now know and he knew that there responses were inevitable. In all likelihood, any who wished for the head of Gilles de Rais would be coming for it before dawn.

But that, too, was fine. Even if he was summoned as a Caster, that was merely a result of the ritual that hand called out too him; first and foremost, he was a warrior. He would not hide, but announce his presence as befitting of one and make his enemies scatter before him.

If they wished for his death, then let them come; whoever could take it could have it.

ôYouàHeretic, what are you doing now!?ö Saber shouted, shielding herself from the power the raged around Caster.

And Mad Bluebeard smiled at her, his expression perhaps sad and perhaps joyful.

ôOh, my dear holy maidenàIÆm sorry. I had prepared this banquet for the two of us and to be able to be in your presence is an honor that fills me with joy I cannot describe. But, my dear JeannaàIÆm afraid that you are not the guest of honor tonight.ö

XxXXxX

 

[Coelacanth]

This was a completely different take on Guiles than I expected. Well done. I'm glad to see you working on this fic again!

 

[biigoh]

"Three" kings?

What?

I only see Saber and Rider. That's TWO. Unless ARCHER showed up as well, instead of Berserker?

 

[Ryuugi]

"Three" kings?

What?

I only see Saber and Rider. That's TWO. Unless ARCHER showed up as well, instead of Berserker?

Berserker's not even there, atm. Also, don't you remember:

<a href='http://z14.invisionfree.com/The_Fanfiction_Forum/index.php?showtopic=20946&view=findpost&p=11605775' target='_blank' rel='nofollow'>http://z14.invisionfree.com/The_Fanfiction...post&p=11605775</a>

 

[nick012000]

Yeah. A pity the Big C is probably going to get the shit Ea'd out of him, because seeing Percy trying to control him would be hilarious.

 

[ragnarok1337]

It's not dead? Nice.

 

[Ryuugi]

Holding Back the Sea
Dead and Dreaming

Around Caster, the Horrors that had been summoned began to convulse. Their twisted limbs stretched, reaching out towards Caster, who spread his arms as if in welcome of a dear friend. They wrapped around him, intertwining their countless limbs until not a single part of their summoner could be seen.

They were swallowing him.

And yet, even though it seemed as though Caster was being betrayed by his own servantsùand yet, even as he was being consumed, Caster merely laughed. His almost-shrieking tone increased in volume and he shouted his insane words to the heavens.

ôNow then, let us wave the banner of our salvation! IsnÆt it wonderful that we have gathered here! We, the damned! We, the abandoned! We have gathered and I am the leader! I am your commander! Their hatred of us must surely be shared even by God! Oh, Lord of the Heavens, I hear your condemnations and I offer up my body!ö

The mass of demons swelled around Caster, lifting him high up into the air in seconds. In mere moments, the number of demons had increased exponentiallyùby the size of the tower that now rose above the three kings, the host of them was already terrifyingly large.

ôCasteràö Saber murmured, eyes widening as she realized what was happening. ôHeÆs being absorbed!ö

Even as she spoke, the horde continued to grow. Truly, the Horrors summoned by PrelatiÆs Spellbook had to be without end. The countless tentacles that enwrapped Caster had begun to fuse together, creating a single, solid mass of putrid flesh. Slick with shimmering, nauseating mucus, the bodies of the creatures had towered high until it was as high as an actual tower.

CasterÆs form could no longer be distinguished in the slightest.

And yet, even so, his voice did not falter in the slightest.

ôOh proud and cruel God, we shall drag you down from your throne! Oh Lamb of God! Oh Men created in his Image! Scorn us! Insult us! Rip us apart to your heartÆs content! We shall ride upon your grief and agony and strike against the Gates of Heaven!ö

A grotesque form began to form out of the Tower, filthy limbs emerging. This horrid amalgamationàperhaps all the creatures Caster had summoned before had been mere bits and pieces of the creature that now stood before them.

It was a horrible sight. Even the greatest creatures of the sea could not boast of such size; the grotesque being that rose with the night sky as itÆs backgroundùwithout a doubt, this monster perfectly fit the description of æsea demon.Æ

In the face of that creature, who was both disgusting and overwhelming, even Saber had to hold her breath for a moment.

And yetù

ôHo~,ö Archer smiled, crossing his arms at the sight appearing before him. ôI had thought our prey was completely uninteresting, but I will admit I am somewhat amused with you, fool.ö

The moment passed and Saber shot her fellow king an annoyed glare.

ôPlease take this more seriously, Archer,ö Saber said sharply. ôSummoning such a monsterà WeÆve underestimated him.ö

Rider scratched his chin.

ôNo,ö He said. ôCan we really call this summoning?ö

ArcherÆs smirk widened.

ôNo matter how much power that book of his has, there should still be limits to the beings and creatures it can summon and use. However, if it doesnÆt bother trying to æcontrol,Æ but simply æuseÆàö

ôAh,ö Rider voiced, sounding like he understood completely. Saber gave him a strange glance, but he didnÆt even look at her. He nodded to himself. ôInstead of controlling it after the summoning, but simply æinviting itÆàno matter how powerful they are, it should still be possible, as long as you have the power and skill to æopen the door.Æö

Finally noticing SaberÆs gaze upon him, Rider lifted an eyebrow, reaching out absently to stroke one of his Divine Bulls.

But Saber was already distracted, having processed what they were saying.

ôThat creatureàItÆs not under CasterÆs control?ö

Despite not being a magus, it wasnÆt hard for Saber to grasp the situation.

If that type of creature was unleashed without anyone to control ità

ôThat creatureàitÆs not even here for a fightà!ö

ôNaturally,ö Archer shrugged. ôAfter all, it was merely summoned here to eat. For something like this, devouring that city should only take a few hours.ö

ôTch!ö Saber couldnÆt stop herself from voicing. Without a doubt, that monster would kill everyone in that city if reached itù

ôHmph! Worried King of Knight?ö Archer said mockingly. ôWorrying about the city is pointlessùeven if youÆre weak enough to be defeated by something like this, I have no intention of giving up my prey, simply because he summoned a guard dog. Feel free to run and hide, if you want; I am more than enough to deal with this all by myself.ö

Saber grit her teeth and it took all her willpower to focus on the matter at handùthe innocent people that were now in dangerùrather than the indignation she now felt.

ôRather than run,ö She said, forcing her tone to remain call. ôWhy donÆt I simply join your hunt? I trust you will swallow your words, after you have been defeated, Archer?ö

 

[Ryuugi]

XxXXxX

Berserker hissed, clutching head as pain washed through him. It felt as if someone had shoved a hot poker into his and then decided to stir up his brains just to be an asshole.

Growling, he lifted his towards his target, even as the immense figure rose high above the forestÆs trees. The shadows of the night hide its exact features, scuttling across its skin like some dark raiment and refusing to be cast away by the moonÆs bright light. The trees of the forest shook around himùprobably because of the creatureÆs massive footfalls.

Yeah. That was the reason.

Taking a deep breath to steady himself, he met its gaze firmly, even as it tried to cow him into submission as it spoke to him. It wasnÆt like his fatherÆs voice, which could, when he was calm, be a cool, gentle thing, like the still waters of a lake or the gentle lapping of waves. It wasnÆt even like this when his father was angry and that anger smashed through the barriers of his mind like a tsunami, striking like a hammer against his thoughts until he felt like he had a migraine.

This was not an unconscious effect of having enormous power, though it certainly came to the monster before him effortlessly. This was an intentional thing; a desire to cause pain made manifest. ItÆs words as it spoke to him slid through his thoughts like tentacles made a razors and barbed wireùand it could have held that back, could have smoothed itÆs voice so that it did not catch and tear as it echoed through the corridors of his mind, but it didnÆt want to. This creature may have been vast, perhaps even unknowable in ways, but one this was for certainùwhatever it was, it caused pain and it knew it and, more than that, it revealed in it.

As it spoke to him, its words insulting and mocking and at once untranslatable and easily understood, he had no choice but to listen. It did not so much threaten him as say what it intended to do to him from pretending to power and violating his dominionùa variety of creatively horrific things that Percy hadnÆt been aware there were words to describe until it told him and sprayed the images across his thoughts. It would kill the people in the city that had been laid out before him as a sacrifice and devour them all, turning this city into a horrid canvas for its work; a place to worship itÆs gods with a thousand agonized screams. It had been awoken and that awakening meant death unfortunate enough to cross its path.

There was something, Percy mused, about Gods, regardless of where they came fromùthey seemed strangely compelled to overact.

He sent those thoughts back to it, through the pain, translating it with his growing understanding of its language and coloring it liberally with the insults it and its spawn had already directed at him. When it raged in response, Percy felt his movements slow to a halt even as he felt his mind start to sick downùdown into that nameless, forgotten sea and down to that dead and sunken city.

HeÆd already realized he was at a disadvantage in this regard; that his clairvoyant abilities that were so useful to him most of the time gave it and itÆs servants a pathway straight into his head, like they had in CasterÆs lair. It would drive him mad if it could, or else eat him while it held his mind captive.

But the same trick would work on him twice.

IÆm sorry Kariya, He thought. But it doesnÆt look like IÆll be able to win this unless I go all out.

He closed his eyes and exhaled a long breath before opening them again. That was all it tookùa thought and an effort of will awoke his most powerful Noble Phantasm, Achilles. A Noble Phantasm with two main effects, it protected him and enhanced him, and in this situation it was the latter he relied up. In his life, heÆd never understood the Curse completely and then it was gone and it didnÆt matter, but it had still made him wonder from time to time. Why had he needed his motherÆs blessing? Why had the Curse made him stronger and faster as well as invulnerable?

HeÆd never found the answers to those thoughts in life, but perhaps heÆd found them in death. The ghost of Achilles had warned him about one of the two hidden costs of the Curse, there by the River Styx, but had even he known about the second?

The first costùas well as the first blessingùof the Curse was a result of the Styx alone.

The Goddess Styx, whose name even the Gods swore by, as thanks for her being the first to rush to ZeusÆ aid in the Titanomachy, gave birth to these four things: Zelus, Kratos, Bia, and Nike. And so these four things live in whomsoever baths themselves Hate and survives: Zeal, Strength, Force, and Victory.

He felt it come to him the moment he calledùa rage that would not die, a zeal in which men could drown, and a power that threatened to wash him away.

It is thanks this blessing and curse that he qualified as a æBerserker.Æ

XxXXxX

 

[BukkakeNoJutsu]

I'm glad to see this updated. I just read this thing all in one go. It's awesome!

 

[Nasuren]

Nice to see it updated here.

 

[nick012000]

No Percy going Aquaman on Cthulhu. Oh well, this is bound to be pretty damn awesome anyway.

 

[Ryuugi]

XxXXxX

“So then, Goldie,” Rider mused, smirk on his face. “How shall we do this? Should we just have one big free for all?”

Archer smiled as well, blood red eyes looking up at the monster before him in consideration and amusement.

“—No.” He decided after a moment. “I am in a good mood today. I will allow you dogs to try and prove your worth before humiliating you.” He decided, sounding as magnanimous as a king bestowing rewards upon his loyal subject. Even as he said the words, however, space ripped by his side and from the distorted space came…

Waver could only call it a sword, but it didn’t like any he had ever seen. Emerging from an opulent and layered gold hilt and hand guard was a cylinder of some blackened metal, decorated with glowing red markings in the form of strangely drawn lines. As expected of a cylinder, the ‘blade’ of the sword was completely blunt meaning that it should have been fairly useless as a weapon.

Well, he corrected himself. As useless as anything was in the hands of a Servant. Waver was sure that with their tremendous strength and skill, crushing a person to paste with a spatula was probably quite feasible, so in that regard, it was certainly dangerous. But as weapons go, even considering only the weapons he’d seen the Gold Servant deploy, it was an odd choice of a weapon. More than anything, it seemed likely to hinder then assist. Archer would probably have an easier time with a sword or a spear. Or, to be really out there, an actual bow.

—Or, at least, that’s what the logical part of his mind wanted to say. Despite all of this, however, in the presence of that ‘sword’, something felt wrong. Maybe it was his magic curcuits acting up or maybe it was part of being a Master—hell, maybe it was even just the primitive part of his brain reacting. Whatever it was, though, the message was the same.

‘This thing is extremely dangerous. Run and don’t look back.’

Archer looked at it, still as arrogant and amused as ever.

“It’s rather a waste,” He admitted, heaving an exaggerated sigh. “Caster and his trash are hardly worthy of dying on this blade, but…”

Those eyes shifted to him and Rider, glimmering darkly above his widening smile.

“Well, tiresome as it may be, one must occasionally show commoners their place. If none of you have the strength to deal with this…pest, then I shall show you the power of a true hero.” He gestured dismissively. “Honestly, it would be more fitting to kill all of you if you disappoint me so, but I shall keep to our agreement, however unworthy you may be.”

“Oh, how kind!” Rider said, smiling as if he’d ignored everything after Archer’s first sentence. Waver knew better; he’d seen the look in Rider’s eyes when that weapon had emerged and knew that for however he acted, this was still the man titled King of Conquerors. “It seems Berserker has decided to go first. Being the last to arrive and the first to fight…”

Rider shook his head, sighing.

“Well, I’ll go next, I suppose.” He murmured, carefully watching Berserker, causing Waver to focus on him as well. Rider hadn’t said it, but it was obvious that this was a great chance to learn more about the other Servants.

Berserker was certainly living up to his name, attacking seemingly without thought or fear of danger. He seemed to have decided on a frontal assault against something a few thousand times his mass. Waver wasn’t sure if he should qualify that as brave or stupid, but…

“His parameters…” He whispered.

Rider nodded.

“Whatever else you can say about him, those stats of his are flat out ridiculous.” Rider agreed. “If it’s physical abilities alone, he’s probably the strongest of us…but it doesn’t matter. You can see it too, can’t you?”

Waver nodded absently.

“He’s using a frontal assault not because he wants to, but because he has no choice. If it’s in terms of ‘Anti-Unit’, he’s probably the strongest, but…” Waver turned to Rider. “I don’t think he has an Anti-Army Noble Phantasm.”

“Not one he can use freely, anyway,” Rider agreed. “He showed he could fight on that scale if he was by a large body of water, but if he has any other Noble Phantasms that can work on that scale, he seems unwilling to use them even in a situation like this. I can’t say for sure he doesn’t have them, but if he does, they either cost too much to use or have other downsides that make him to activate them.”

Rider scratched his beard with one hand, looking contemplative.

“But I am sure of one thing. If he is forced away from the water, he has to fight like that,” Rider nodded towards the battle. “It’s not something he does because he has a choice. And while he would likely win any battle he could force others to fight on his terms—a purely physical confrontation—he is ill-equipped to fight against foes of truly massive size or against ones who outnumber him hugely. Against Casters monster, he has to use a sword; against an army, he’d have to defeat his enemies one by one. He’s an amazing combatant, to be sure, but…”

Rider glanced at his Master once again, eyes completely serious.

“How long do you think Berserker could last in a fight, if you were his Master?”

Waver frowned an nearly asked what he meant—before realizing the answer was obvious and considered the question seriously.

“If it was me…” Waver mused. “I’m not sure. Berserker’s normally cost more to maintain then other Servants, because of Mad Enhancement. He doesn’t seem to have that active, but…I don’t think it matters. With a constantly active Noble Phantasm and one that enhances his parameters at that…even if you removed the amount consumed by his armor, he must take at least twice the prana as a normal Servant normally. If he’s forced to fight seriously, he might consume even more than that. I…can’t say anything for sure, simply because I don’t know all the details about him, but if I was his Master, I think I could maintain him for about fifteen minutes in a serious fight. Maybe less.”

“I see,” Rider said smiling. “Then I’m sure of it.”

“…Sure of what?”

Rider tilted his head to the smile, smile growing.

“Well, maybe it’s a bit arrogant to say, but…oh, who cares? If we were to fight, I can see no way in which Berserker could defeat me.”

XxXXxX

 

[MTing]

Theoretically, if Percy could tap into his Earthshaker abilities or use the "Everything was once water" trick, pretty sure he could beat Rider's RM. Hell, he could make a tornado in the desert; he's made tornado's before.

And even then, Rider's working off some wrong conclusions (Percy = Achilles)

But forget all the theory crafting. You updated this story! Hope to see more frequent updates like in the past!

Off to reread everything now.

 

[Sunder the Gold]

For Kariya's sake, Percy should have just run away and let the other heroes handle this one.

Even if he wins, he'll lose by killing his Master. If not in this fight, then later because of the cost of this fight.

But, it's not like Percy can know that the others can easily kill this monster.

 

[Ryuugi]

XxXXxX

Percy shook his head and growled, rising from were a blow from a tentacle had sent him crashing into—through, really—a series of trees. On the bright side, his suspicions were confirmed—this being, though worshipped as a God in whatever twisted home dimension he was born from, was not a Divine Spirit. Like the many creatures Caster had summoned, it was just an organism born from a dimension with completely different natural laws. That meant that he didn’t have to fear any damage from this opponent; Achilles could only be pierced by an opponent who possessed a greater Divinity then he did, barring a few exceptions. When he possessed this ‘armor’ in life, the only things he’d had to fear were the true forms of Gods and Titans. In this war, even without being near water, he didn’t have to fear anything piercing his defense—as the son of one of the Big Three and having been offered godhood in life, his Divinity was A-rank and wouldn’t be surpassed.

On the other hand, precisely how much it mattered was still in question. He could feel it, even now—the constant drain he put on Kariya’s prana. He was running against a time limit and whether he could be physically hurt or not wouldn’t matter if he ran out of prana before he could win a fight.

And he wasn’t making any progress winning this one. Caster’s monster was regenerating at a rate that was hard to believe, the wounds he inflicted closing almost before he’d finished making them. That healing ability and the creature’s sheer size meant that he wouldn’t be able to cause any meaningful injury to the creature, even with the parameter boost he derived from Achilles. Riptide wouldn’t help much either in this situation—while a very powerful weapon in its own way, it had no ability to slow or prevent wounds, only inflict them—and Perseus wouldn’t help him much on a battlefield like this, lacking any real sources of water—though, the idea of trying to use any water to crush a creature like this was probably foolish to begin with. So was the idea of trying to make an earthquake large and powerful enough to meaningfully injure something like this. Summoning water was out of the question even if it would work, due to the drain it would put on Kariya.

For a brief moment, he contemplated his other options—but no, those weren’t even on the table, given how much prana he had currently. It wasn’t even Kariya’s fault, not really—even if he had the best master in this war, that option wouldn’t be feasible. Maybe if he had a hundred times as much prana to draw upon it would be possible, but he couldn’t do it in this War.

It’s amazing how you miss not having to rely on the power of others, he thought, frowning to himself. He glanced over at Rider and Archer, pondering. Would either of them be able to defeat this thing? Thinking about it, he really didn’t know much about either of their capabilities. At the very least, Archer’s rain of swords and Rider’s chariot wouldn’t be enough—but it’d be foolish to think neither of them had any trump cards up their sleeves. But would they be enough? Neither of them seemed worried by the creature, but then, he doubted anything would make those two particularly nervous. Saber, meanwhile, was standing a bit away from the two others, eyes focused on the creature and hand’s grasping Excalibur, prepared to use it but waiting—probably wanting to gather as much information as possible, probably under her Master’s orders given her expression.

It was a good tactic. He might have been worried about it but, honestly, she knew about most of his NPs already, as did most of the others. He thought about backing off and letting one of the others fight, maybe doing some information gather himself, but—

Well, they didn’t have this creature half in their head. They probably knew the basics, but they didn’t know the details—if this creature reached the city, it would kill everyone in it. And by the time it did, it would probably be a blessing, considering what it intended to do first. Could he risk this thing getting to innocent people? He had no way of knowing if the others could actually stop it.

Damn, he missed actually having the power to back up his heroic streak. He eyed the beast again. In all honesty, he really didn’t want to get closer to it; proximity strengthened the connection between them, filling his mind with horrific imagery and carving things into his brain. With Achilles and his personal skills, he could still fight, but that didn’t make having a monster shouting in his mind any more pleasant. But still, up close and personal was basically the only option he had. Caster was in that monster somewhere, holding the Noble Phantasm that kept this creature in the world. If he could get to him and kill him, he could win. Of course, that would mean literally carving a way into the beast to find the bastard, even while the beast itself tried to kill him and constantly regenerated, but it was at least theoretically possible. That was a far cry from him being able to do it, but it was possible.

The ground shook as the monster took another step and he came to a decision, dismal as its chances were. But before he could even step forward, Lancer appeared beside him.

“It won’t work,” Lancer said bluntly, having obviously considered the same idea—which really said a lot about Lancer, honestly. At least he had the excuse of being invulnerable to justify his insane plans. “I’ve already tested it; progress inside the creature’s body is slow and it attacks and tries to devour foreign objects. Separately, neither of us have even a one percent chance of reaching Caster in time for it to matter.”

Hearing someone planning and going through their odds made him suddenly miss Annabeth, which was probably what made him stop even as the monster took another titanic step.

“What do you propose, Lancer?” He asked. “Even if we worked together, would we be able to progress much faster.

Lancer pursed his lips in a moment of consideration before nodding and lifting his spear—not the one that had pierced his armor before, but the shorter, yellow one.

“It’s possible with this.” He stated. “Once I begin to use it, however, that creature will notice and focus on me. I would need you to keep it from doing so while I carved a path.”

Percy frowned, thinking again. Defending someone from a beast of that size would be hard as hell, even for him, simply because it didn’t need to worry about only hitting one of them at a time. But if Lancer had a way of actually inflicting damage on it at a reasonable pace…

“Yes,” He said, shifting his grip on Riptide in preparation. “If that’s all, I can do that much.”

“Belay that plan for a moment,” The voice of Lancer’s Master interrupted, coming from the gem on Lancer’s person, halting them as they readied themselves. “It would be a waste of resources. I have determined the location of Caster’s Master and am approaching him now. Ensure the beast doesn’t reach the city while I remove the source of this problem.”

XxXXxX

 

[Ryuugi]

Because a lot of people have asked for a profile for Percy or his stuff (which I haven't revealed for a number of reasons, laziness and wanting to keep things hidden as long as possible, chief amongst them), I'm going to start revealing things at the end of relevant and plot important chapters. A few of these will go up in the final drafts on ff.net and such, as well. But for now, well, here's the truth about Achilles. This is pretty much everything, unless I goofed up and made a mistake somewhere.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________


XxXXxX

Achilles—Through the River of Broken Dreams, Let These Prayers Become Armor
Rank: EX

One of the most powerful defensive Noble Phantasms in existence, the legendary Curse of Achilles is also a target of much confusion—something that is to be expected of a mystery on the level of True Magic. Despite being possessed by several individuals in life, neither they nor anyone else showed true understanding of how it truly worked.

Functionally, it can be considered a conditional ‘Elimination Rank Armor Class,’ which ignores all damage except that which exploits it weaknesses. Rather than being a strong defense which blocks a certain amount of damage with a specific amount of power, it is a conceptual defense that simply doesn’t allow damage to occur as long as its criteria are met. Damage from an attacker with a lower Divinity is ignored completely, unless they hit the ‘Achilles Heel’ of the armor. It is generally believes that the source of these weaknesses stem from the creation of the Curse itself: The River Styx and the removal of the owner’s Mortality.

Born from the Goddess Styx, the Curse itself is born from a Divine Spirit and attaches itself to its target and is fueled by them. However, concepts are defeated by concepts. Even the powerful Curse of a Divine Spirit can be subverted by a greater concept—in this case, an even more powerful Divine Spirit. Because it is powered by the host, it uses it’s bearers Divinity to determine its defense; to Percy, the son of one of the most powerful Gods who was even offered Divinity himself, very few people are able to overcome the defense of his A-rank Divinity, but he was still vulnerable to things like the true forms of Gods and could have been destroyed if the Titan Kronos had obtained his full power.

The second weakness was believed to have a similar cause. The Curse itself was though to work by burning away the concept of ‘Mortality’ from its bearer. However, a weakness was necessitated, for if it could, the River Styx would burn the life out of any mortal who entered it. In order to survive the Styx, one had to hold onto at least some of their mortality or else they’d be dissolved completely.

But all these guesses were made without a true understanding of the Curse. In addition to bathing in the River Styx and holding on to one’s mortality, there is a third condition that is needed in order to obtain the Curse—the least well known and the one that doesn’t seem to fit. In order to survive the River of Broken Dreams, the third requirement is a mother’s blessing. It doesn’t need anything special, just a few words of permission are enough—and yet, it’s what makes it all possible. Without those few words, everything is meaningless; lacking them, even the strongest will has no hope of surviving the Styx. Why are they so important?

Even beyond that, however, if one thought about it seriously, one could even start to see flaws in the manner the curse supposedly worked. It rendered the user invincible by removing their mortality—and yet, the immortal gods can be wounded. One could survive the river and come out invulnerable by keeping a hold of the last of one’s mortality—and yet, the River Styx wields power even over Gods, who can lose their voices for years after drinking its waters.

Then how did the Curse do what it was so famous for?

In a way, it was simple. The invulnerability the Curse was famous for was not granted by the River Styx—it was forged within it. And since something cannot be created without something of equal value being lost, it could only be made out of something that could, itself, be considered unbreakable. Because of that, it was made of the only thing it possibly could be—for there was only one thing that could be considered indestructible in the material plane. That is, the Soul.

In giving her blessing, a mother volunteers to use their own Soul to protect their son’s and keep it from being dissolved by the current, bearing the river’s cost with two where one would surely fail. It is not something that requires immediate payment, but after death, that soul will pay the price it offered itself for, finding no path to Akasha or the Cycle of Reincarnation, but instead clinging to their child as an eternal and unbreakable defense, wherever they may go, even if that should be the Throne of Heroes.

The soul is the container for both ‘Magic Circuit’ and ‘Memories’ which is eternal and indestructible in the material plane—but for it to survive in the material realm, it requires two things: a ‘Body’ and a ‘Mind.’ Without both, it should not be able to bind itself to this world and has no choice but to return to the Root where it will break apart and disperse. This is something that applies even to Servants, which require support from both their Master and the Holy Grail.

But the power of the River Styx was a Magic that was considered unbelievable, even in the Age of the Gods. Similar to the Third Magic, it stops the dispersion of the Soul, essentially makes it transcend to a higher form of existence, if in a different way than the Third Magic. Rather than armor, it could be considered to be a bounded field that closes off what is inside it from the rest of the world, separating what is within it from what is outside—at least, mostly. If it disconnected the ‘contents’ of the armor completely, it would render them unable to interact with the world at all—therefore, rather than the ‘last of their mortality,’ one could consider the Achilles Heel to be the ‘last of their connection to the material world.’ If severed, the contents cannot survive, quickly resulting in the death of the wielder.

Additionally, the Curse causes a massive increase in energy expenditure, as the ‘owner’s’ existence has been effectively doubled, for they now have two souls. This is especially true when summoned as a Servant, for the Master is effectively forced to support two Servants. As for the increase in its owner’s parameters, that is what is caused by the Divine Blessing of the goddess Styx (Hate), who was the mother of Nike (Victory), Zelus (Zeal), Kratos (Strength), and Bia (Force). It empowers the wielder tremendously, further multiplying the cost on a Master. As a result, several hours’ worth of prana can be consumed in minutes once of fight begins. In return, a ‘+’ modifier is granted to each Parameter besides Mana. However, intensive usage can cause detrimental effects on the servant himself, as the power of the Curse starts seeping into his mind. It is for this, together with the cost on the mother, that it is called a Curse.

 

[Sunder the Gold]

Cool. Interesting. Clever.

 

[Ryuugi]

Holding Back the Sea
And So the Heroes March

“Awesome! Totally awesome!” Caster’s Master, Uryu Ryunosuke, cheered. He was over five hundred meters from the battle but…even from that distance, he could see the towering figure of Caster’s monster, and he watched it with glee.

He was not alone, though everyone else seemed much less excited. Even at night, the simple fact of the matter was that Caster’s monster could not be missed—someone had noticed it and sounded the alarm, waking people from their sleep and flooding the streets with people to watch the events that followed. Even as he cheered and celebrated, no one paid any attention to him; with their mouths agape, everyone simply stared dumbly at the sight before them, seemingly incapable of even comprehending the reality before their eyes and the logic they believed in came crashing down around their ears.

‘How about that!?’ He wanted to scream. ‘Do you see it? Can you believe it? I bet none of you could even guess how amazing and bizarre this world really was, huh? But I knew! I always knew and I always went looking for it—and I found it! I found the thing I’ve been searching for—I found proof that God exists!’

Caster, his friend and his hero, had saved him. The demon he had summoned just to get a chance to meet—he tore apart the common sense that normal people believe in and dragged monsters up from the Abyss that they refused to believe was real, just for the pleasure of doing so and of seeing the horrified expressions of the foolish people that gathered to watch.

With this, he could bid farewell to his dull and boring life. With this, he could abandon the tedium he had to put up with day by day. Even the trouble he’d had to go through for so long was a thing of the past now! There was no reason to hide any more, no reason to put effort into his murders to keep from getting caught and punished—from now on, with Caster by his side, tons of people were going to die every day. They’d be crushed and broken, cut and ripped apart, torn open and devoured, and they’d die, die, die, die, die. He was excited just thinking about the sights Caster would surely let him see—every age, every race, every kind of person that existed in this world, he’d get a chance to watch be subjected to Caster’s artistry.

“Ah!” He shouted, grin on his face as he pumped one fist in the air. “Hey guys, look! He’s come, he’s come! The Lord is here! Come on Sir Bluebeard! Crush them! Destroy them! Let them all see our art!”

Suddenly, something pushed him and he staggered a step forward before falling to his knees. All around him, people turned to look at him and screamed, as if he’d metamorphosed into one of Caster’s Monsters.

“Huh? What…?” He tried to ask them, but even as he did so, he found his answer. Unconsciously lifting a hand to his chest, he felt something hot and slippery and his attention immediately swerved down to his hand and the liquid that had died it red. “Oh.”

He understood immediately. For someone like him, a person who had searched for it endlessly, tearing through all kinds of people and places just to see a little bit more of it—of course recognized it immediately. The sight of blood—even his own blood—brought a blissful smile to his face. How silly of him; he’d searched for it everywhere, but he hadn’t realized until now that that lovely color could be found even somewhere this close to him.

“For someone as pathetic and disgusting as you to be chosen to take part in the Holy Grail War…” A disembodied voice said, anger filling his tone. “Unbelievable. You’re a disgrace to the word magus. Just fall to pieces and die right here, you filth.”

The next blow came in from an angle, an invisible force hitting the side of his head before everything went black. But even with everything above his nose torn completely away, his smile never faltered.

XxXXxX

Kayneth stared down at the corpse before him in disgust, before turning around and walking away. He wasn’t worried about being found—no one would recognize him, thanks to his illusion magecraft, just as no one had seen what he’d done to Caster’s Master.

Even before the War, dealing with something like this was his duty as a magus and a member of the Association—and one that in this case, he was happy to perform. But, even so, his expression soured. It sounded petty, given the circumstances, but this was not what he’d wanted or expected out of the Holy Grail War. His reasons for participating were rather simplistic—he simply wished to attain fame by fighting other Masters of great skill as well as the legendary heroes of the past that have been forth. What he had seen so far…this was not what he had expected. And for more reasons than just Caster’s master.

Worse still, it seemed to be one thing after another.

Sighing, he turned his attention back to the distant battle. This was bad, any way he looked at it. Thanks to his Master’s Perspective, he could see the details of Caster’s summon clearly—and it was not an opponent he wanted Lancer to fight. Indeed, both Lancer and Berserker seemed ill-equipped to combat such an opponent, both seeming to be Anti-Unit combatants. He’d heard Lancer’s plan and while he could acknowledge that it was possible that it would work, it would be a difficult and risky fight, for both of them. Worse still, the only thing he’d been able to do was hunt down Caster’s Master—in such a battle, he was almost useless.

But even now that Caster was dead, it would take time for that Monster to dissipate. Having seen it once, he knew the power of Caster’s spellbook and could tell that it would be able to sustain this creature for quite a while. Worse still, if it could find another source of prana, such as by devouring people…

In this battle, what did it say that he—the best magus in the entire War—could only do this much.

Swallowing his pride, he activated the gem that let him communicate with Lancer.

“Caster’s Master is dead,” He said. “But Caster will persist until he runs out of prana. If that monster reaches the city and is allowed to start eating people…I’m sorry Lancer, but I’ll have to leave the rest up to you.”

XxXXxX