Despite my words to him, I did indeed look into the spandex-clad Lancer I had faced on the road to the Church not so long ago. What I found was incredible, awe-inspiring, and wholly baffling. He was not some random hero to be lost in some pages, passed over for another, or forgotten at all.
Cu Chulainn was the Hero of the Ulster Cycle. A demi-god born to a great God, pupil to a mythic witch, and the greatest of warriors.
The Hound of Ulster.
Son of the Great God Lugh.
Disciple to the Witch of Dun-Scaith.
It was no lie that I held a certain admiration for this mighty figure of legend now that I knew every single word written in his tale was true. I wanted to shake his hand, and I wanted to punch him in the face so that he would punch me back with all he had. I wanted to push him, bother him, and goad him.
Or, at least, those had been my wishes when I was investigating him.
Right now, my mood was soured. I needed sleep. The bad taste in my mouth from discussing the Matou household would ruin any battle I fought, and any victory or loss I incurred as a result. So, for a first, I did not want to fight him.
"That's a nasty look you got there, kiddo. What? Aren't you supposed to be a magus?" He craned his neck, a half-grin on his face. "You're the one that called me here, aren't you? Don't go ruining our fight now."
Rin gave me a pointed look. She was definitely wondering if I was mad for that. She did that a lot. The Tohsaka heiress suddenly slapped herself on the cheeks and as they reddened, she raised a clenched fist. The two command seals on the back hummed in the night.
"Archer."
"Yeah. Yeah. I hear you, Master." Archer let out a tired sigh, appearing beside us. I lowered my aviators briefly, just as the dual blades he typically wielded formed in his hands.
Kanshou and Byakyua, my eyes told me. Yet, I was not at all interested in what they did, more in how he had drawn them. They weren't like Noble Phantasms wielded by Nobunaga or Cu Chulainn, no, they were imitations. I knew that instinctively. Imitations he had... drawn from within himself.
What kind of blasted magecraft was that?
Tilting my head in confusion, I narrowed my eyes on them.
I couldn't understand. I couldn't trace them to a beginning.
From where I stood, he had just drawn those imitations from nowhere. That made no sense. They were not his legend. They were mere replicas, produced through high-level projection magecraft. Replicas he had made... but when? And, since when was projection magecraft so potent, so easy to cast?
When my gaze rose to meet his, Archer gave a ghost of a smirk, like he knew exactly what I was thinking, and wanted to taunt me for it.
"What? You're going to gang up on little ol' me?" Lancer leapt off the bridge. With a largely unnecessary spin, he landed in front of us. Then, he began twirling his crimson lance in his hand, at a speed barely perceptible.
"That's fine!"
Drawn from my thoughts at his abrupt declaration, I snapped my fingers at Nobunaga.
She brought her hand to her side, as though she were grasping for the hilt of her blade. The blade came into the world amidst a burst of red flames, and hissed as she pulled it free to hold it aloft, the sharp edge held towards Cu Chulainn's neck.
"This time, I shall make no effort to bide my time."
"Oh, look who it is." Cu held out his lance, "Sorry it took me so long to recognise ya, I tend to forget what losers look like."
"You only won because I was disinterested, vile creature. I will not repeat the mistake."
"Whatever gets you going, lady."
Lancer was about to get juju-jumped from the looks of things. Nobunaga was no longer playing around, and Cu Chulainn was a being of divine nature. His fate would be the same as Heracles'. Then, there was Rin's Archer to back her up.
His chances of victory were dubious at best.
That was why...
"Hey, Lancer. Just leave. Tell Bazett I'll fight her tomorrow."
The blue-haired servant furrowed his brows, his eyes gleamed, "Sorry, can't do that."
There was... something unnatural to the way he spoke then. I was too mentally tired to delve into it, but, for the respect I bore his legend, I tried again.
"C'mon. You're fighting two servants. And me, on top."
The folly of my words hit me the moment I finished them.
Cu stared at me in silence for a moment, then barked out a sordid laugh.
"Kahaha! You think that's gonna dissuade me?! You really don't know who I am, do ya, kiddo?!"
He was Cu Chulainn, the Hound of Ulster. At his end, he had tied himself to a rock with his own spilled intestines and fought an entire invading army on his lonesome from there, fighting like a madman, for so long that his enemies became too terrified to even approach his corpse after his death until an actual symbol of death came down to confirm his passing.
Telling a man like that he was outnumbered was like telling an Irishman he was drinking too much.
Absolutely bonkers.
"But, for a first, I'll apologise to you. This isn't what I want, just what I've gotta do."
Suddenly, he twisted his spear and gripped it with both hands. The mana in the air froze in place. Time itself seemed to come to a screeching halt as the spear glowed a bright crimson. Cu Chulainn grit his teeth.
Archer moved instantly.
"I'll be taking your heart!"
"Henry!"
One moment, I was stood there. The next, I was flying through the sky. The cold wind dragged across my face like nails. Archer had thrown me, I realised. With all the strength that he had, he tossed me away.
I didn't get to ask why.
"Gae-"
Lancer reeled his hand back as veins popped on his features, his teeth grit even as Nobunaga began to cut down on his neck with her golden katana. Without a thought, I activated Infinity. The greatest defense of the modern era formed around me, cutting me off from the rest of the world.
"-Bolg!"
"Gay what-"
He thrust his spear. Archer attempted to intercept it with his blades but the bony weapon twisted haphazardly at the last moment, transforming into a brilliant red light that slid away at the final moment. It bypassed Archer and crossed the distance between us in the blink of an eye before... inevitably blowing through my heart.
To that spear, my defense may as well not have existed at all.
The nigh-infinite distance between us mattered little. The pockets of imaginary space became real.
My heart being pierced was a forgone conclusion from the moment he'd thrust his spear.
Ah... I should've never put my aviators back on.
"Huh."
I looked down. The spear was gone. Warm blood gushed like a fountain from the gaping hole it left in my shirt and my chest as I fell from the sky. My body froze up, as though every single bit of it was suddenly gripped by an invisible force.
Then, pain.
Pain like never before.
It felt like I was in the hottest desert and atop the iciest peak in the same moment, with nothing to protect me from the elements. I never even noticed the ground hit and shatter my back. My only thought was that... I really needed to give noble phantasms some more credit.
Apparently, those crystallizations of mystery, of legend, were not to be taken lightly.
I chuckled, coughing blood right after.
"Small... wonder."
This wasn't enough. Nowhere near enough.
-
Hope you enjoyed.
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