Cu gestured vaguely at the apocalyptic landscape behind me with Gae Bolg's tip.
"Bit of a fixer-upper, this place," he remarked, a dry, dark humor threading his voice. "Kirei's probably pissed."
I followed his gaze, truly seeing the devastation for the first time. Our battle had reduced the church to a jagged silhouette against the rain, the earth carved into deep canyons, trees splintered like kindling.
A weak chuckle escaped me as I scratched the back of my head. "Yeah... this place might need a bit of repair. Honestly, I'm surprised it's still standing."
Just as those words left my mouth, half of what was left standing crumbled into a cloud of dust and rubble.
My mouth twitched. What wonderful timing.
Kirei Kotomine remained magically pinned to the miraculously intact section of church wall, his dark eyes watching our exchange with that unnerving stillness. He hadn't uttered a sound throughout the fight or its aftermath and remained a silent observer, drinking in the chaos. Well, it wasn't like he could talk much or at all. That, I made sure of.
I walked over, grabbing the stiff, cursed priest by the collar of his cassock. I hauled him upright beside me like a particularly grim mannequin. He offered no resistance, his gaze fixed on my face, searching.
"You two wanna see a magic trick?" I asked, my voice cutting through the rain.
Cu raised an eyebrow. "Kid, after what I just saw, you could probably pull a dragon out of your ass and I wouldn't blink."
I smirked in amusement at his words and raised my free hand, palm facing the ruins. Pure, silent will channeled through the Elder Ring. A wave of shimmering golden light pulsed from my palm, washing over the shattered stone, the torn earth, the splintered trees.
It was like watching time reverse itself in fast-forward.
Stone fragments flowed back together, mortar sealing cracks seamlessly. Pulverized floorboards reassembled like intricate puzzles. The colossal gashes in the earth filled, smoothed, and vanished, replaced by unbroken minerals. Splintered oaks groaned as their trunks knit whole, branches regrew, and leaves unfurled vibrant and green. Even the churned mud settled, leaving the ground outside pristine and untouched.
The church stood whole and imposing once more. Not a scratch. Not a speck of dust out of place.
Cu's jaw dropped. His crimson eyes bugged out, darting from the miraculously restored landscape to my outstretched hand and back again.
"What in the name of the Dagda's beard was that?" he breathed, awe momentarily overriding his usual sharpness. "No way that was magecraft. You didn't even chant! Are you really a magus?"
"Never said I was." I lowered my hand. "There. Good as new." I gave him a vague, easy shrug and a wink. "Treat these things as a knack of mine."
Cu stared at me, the unspoken question hanging heavy in the damp air. Maybe he noticed the deliberate evasion and the casual dismissal I made. A flicker of understanding crossed his face, seemingly recognizing a boundary not to be pressed. He changed tack, pragmatic as ever.
"Alright, keep your secrets, you mad enigma. So, about those Command Spells... How exactly are you planning to pry them from his cold, dead hand?" He nodded towards the immobile Kirei.
In response, I raised my left hand. A short, ornate dagger with a thin blade like crystallized purple glass and shaped like a key materialized from thin air, taken straight from the Inventory. A hilt decorated in red and gold rested beneath the blade.
-o-
Rule Breaker (Type-Moon)
A dagger that is the materialization of the legend of the Witch of Betrayal, Medea. It is mostly ceremonial, with nonexistent capabilities as a weapon, being thin, blunt, and overall useless. However, while it lacks the capacity to murder, its true purpose lies in the destruction of any magic.
The dagger is capable of nullifying all magical effects; once it comes into contact with something connected to magic, such as a person affected by magic, magical contracts, curses, or spells, so long as it is rooted in magic or something adjacent to magic, the dagger can break its effects and return the object to its original state.
When used on magical contracts, it can rewrite them, such as how the Witch of Betrayal used it to steal Saber. You can also use this to cancel other supernatural effects.
-o-
"I'm going to break your contract with him using this," I explained calmly, meeting Lancer's suddenly wary gaze. "After that happens, I'll forge a new one with you. Stay still. This won't hurt."
Before Cu could react beyond a slight tightening of his grip on Gae Bolg, I drove Rule Breaker into his chest with precise intent. The blade sank into the light of his spirit core as if piercing water. Where it struck, a brilliant crimson light erupted from the wound, unraveling magical energy. A resonant, crystalline chime echoed through the restored church grounds.
Simultaneously, Kirei groaned, a low, guttural sound of violation and unexpected pain. The intricate, jagged helix of Command Spells tattooed on the back of his left hand flared crimson, then faded, dissolving like ink in water, leaving only unmarked skin.
On the back of my left hand, new Seals burned into existence. They weren't a jagged helix. Instead, they formed a complex, interlocking pattern: a central, stylized gate motif surrounded by two rings of two crimson, circuit-like lines, pulsing faintly with restrained power.
I withdrew Rule Breaker. It vanished.
"And with that," I stated, flexing my new Command Spell-adorned hand, "I am now an official Master of this war. And you, Lancer, are officially my Servant."
Cu touched his chest where Rule Breaker had pierced him, a thoughtful frown replacing the surprise. The connection was there now, a subtle, binding thread of magical energy flowing between us.
"Hmph. Official formality's done then. So, Master," the title sounded strange, almost amusing on his tongue, "what's the plan? Declare war on the other Masters? Find a decent pub?"
I opened my mouth to answer, then paused. Those were all legitimately interesting suggestions, but something nagged at me.
"Lancer... Kirei summoned you back mid-mission, correct? What was it?"
Cu's expression shifted to annoyance. "Oh, that. Kirei sent me to put down that Caster skulking around her now dead Master's place. Nasty piece of work. But she was weakened, so I took my time whittling her down. I was in the middle of a scrap with her when the Command Spell yanked me back here."
My thoughts ground to a halt. Caster. Weakened. Dead Master.
"Did you finish the job?" I asked.
"Nah," he scoffed. "Had her on the ropes, but the summon cut it short. Why? Planning to mop her up yourself?"
I didn't answer.
Instead, I summoned the scrying orb from the Celestial Inventory into my palm. Its surface shimmered with magical signatures, and I chose the flickering one close to Ryuudou Temple. The orb's display resolved into an image of the rain-lashed forest near the foot of Mount Enzou. Panning swiftly, it zoomed in on a figure stumbling through the undergrowth near Ryuudou Temple's base. It was a woman in dark, tattered robes. Blood, diluted by rain but unmistakable, stained her garments and dripped onto the muddy path.
We watched silently as she tripped over a root, falling heavily into a small clearing, her body wracked by pain and exhaustion. She didn't get up.
Cu leaned closer, peering at the orb. "Looks like she won't last another ten minutes without a Master or some serious healing. Saves us the trouble."
But I wasn't moving. My eyes were fixed on the orb, scanning the edges of the clearing, the treeline. Waiting. Seconds stretched into tense moments. My face grew increasingly worried, a frown etching deep lines on my brow.
Where was he? Why wasn't he here? He was supposed to meet her by now.
"Master?" Lancer's voice broke through my focus. "What are you waiting for? A formal invitation to her funeral?"
The realization hit me like a physical blow.
Shinji.
"Wait… That face." Lancer stared with a deadpan expression. "Don't tell me you're planning to help her. If you could convince her to join our side, that would be nice. But I'd wager that to be impossible."
Shinji's humiliation earlier... the detention... Kuzuki had to stay late to supervise his cleaning. Kuzuki Souichirou, Caster's unlikely Master and anchor in this world, wasn't coming. He was stuck at school at the beginning of the night—delayed. Which meant Caster, critically wounded, alone, and rapidly depleting her magical energy... would fade and dematerialize.
"Damn it," I cursed, the word sharp with sudden urgency. "Stay here and guard Kirei," I said to Lancer.
Before he could protest, I focused.
The world twisted, compressed, then snapped back into focus. I stood behind the broad trunk of a soaking wet tree, the scent of pine needles and damp earth thick in the air. Rain drummed a steady rhythm on the leaves above.
Peering around the trunk, I saw her.
Caster lay crumpled in the muddy clearing, just as the orb had shown. Her breathing was shallow, ragged. Then, a sound cut through the rain. It was a low, broken laugh. It was a sound devoid of humor, filled with a deep, aching sadness.
"In the end," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the rain, yet carrying an unbearable weight, "is this how I shall die once again?"
Her hand, trembling, lifted weakly towards the stormy sky.
"Passed around for others' convenience... exploited... reviled as a traitor..." A shuddering breath. "All I wanted... was to return to my homeland."
The raw despair in her voice, the profound isolation, struck a chord deep inside me. While I wasn't well-versed in Greek mythology and its many stories, I knew about Medea's tragic tale. This was the Witch of Betrayal, yes, but also Medea of Colchis, forever exiled, forever yearning for a home she could never reach.
I stood there at the edge of the clearing, looking down at the broken figure in the mud. What do you say to a dying woman drowning in sorrow? The weight of her history, her pain, and the choice before me pressed down. I opened my mouth, the words forming slowly, carefully, in the heavy silence broken only by the rain and her ragged breathing.
"…You won't die today, Medea," I called out through the curtain of rain. "Not like this."
Rain stuck the dark fabric of her hood tightly against the obscured shape of her head. Only the pale, blood-streaked line of the bottom half of her face was visible below its deep shadow as her head turned towards my voice.
The hand that had been reaching weakly towards the sky trembled violently before dropping back into the mud with a soft splash. I caught the faintest, dying flicker of violet light sparking weakly from within the shadow of her sleeves—a sputter of defensive magic utterly spent.
Her voice scraped out, raw and thick, echoing from the hidden space beneath the hood. "You... Who are you? A Master?"
She tried to push herself up, gasped sharply and collapsed back. Fresh crimson bloomed dark against the wet fabric covering her ribs and left shoulder.
"A scavenger, perhaps? Come to finish what Lancer started... or claim a broken tool for yourself?" The bitter edge in her tone was unmistakable.
I took another step, slow and deliberate, hands visible. Rain instantly soaked my hair, icy trails running down my neck, but I ignored it. My focus was locked on the broken form in the mud, her magical energy feeling dangerously thin, fraying at the edges like an old rope about to snap. The sight of a legend come to life bleeding out, alone under the indifferent sky, sat heavy in my gut.
"I'm neither," I said. I stopped a few paces away—just close enough, but not looming. "My name is Kayden. Saw you fall. Couldn't exactly just walk away like nothing happened after seeing that."
A low, wet cough shook her frame. "Saw...? Spying on me, I see. But then… why do you speak my name? Why... interfere? Having one less opponent in this war would only be an advantage for you."
Suspicion warred with exhaustion in her rasp, and just forming the words seemed to drain her further.
"Because I wish to help you. And because hearing you wishing for home before the end isn't something I could ignore," I stated, plain and simple. "Plus, dying alone in the mud? That doesn't seem like the right curtain call for the Princess of Colchis. I don't think that's what you deserve."
I deliberately avoided the 'Witch' title. I didn't want her to hate me within the first few minutes of our meeting.
Her breath hitched audibly. The use of her name, her real title, spoken without the usual venom, clearly struck some kind of nerve. I saw the tension in the line of her jaw beneath the hood, the slight tremor in her shoulders. Confusion radiated from her hunched form. Even without Legilimency, I could tell what was going on in her mind.
"Deserve?" she echoed, her voice trembling now. "What do I deserve?" The bitterness surged back, a desperate defense. "Betrayal is my nature. Exploitation my fate. To be used. Cast aside. Reviled. Why... why would you care about my end?"
The raw edge beneath the words was unmistakable now, almost like a plea she couldn't suppress.
I lowered myself slowly, deliberately, kneeling in the mud before her.
"Maybe I see the woman behind the story," I offered, keeping my gaze level towards where her face would be hidden in shadow. "Maybe 'home' is a wish I understand."
Memories of the past flickered through my mind. Warmth. Loneliness. Sorrow. I shut my eyes for a moment, shoving the emotions to the back of my mind.
"Or maybe..." I paused, letting the rain fill the space. "Maybe I think people deserve a shot at defying the script others wrote for them."
Silence. She remained utterly still for a long moment, the only movement being the raindrops tracing paths down the dark fabric she wore. I could almost feel the war raging inside her—ingrained distrust battling against the terrifying, fragile possibility offered by a stranger kneeling in the mud.
"I can heal you," I continued, voice low and steady. I extended my right hand, palm open and empty, towards the shadowed space beneath her hood. "Properly. Not a patch job. If you wish, we could even establish a Master and Servant contract. But it's your call, Medea. Would you like to fade here, or see if another path exists?"
The offer hung between us in the downpour. The silence stretched, thick with the ghosts of her past and the weight of my outstretched hand.
I felt her hidden gaze on me, intense and searching, scanning for the trap she was certain lay in wait. But I kept my expression calm, open. Waiting.
Slowly, agonizingly slowly, her mud-streaked hand lifted from the ground. It trembled violently, hovering in the air between us, shaking with weakness and the immense weight of a choice she likely hadn't dared make for a long time.
Her hand felt cold to the touch. And with my current hulking physique, her gloved hand seemed like a child's compared to my own.
This wasn't acceptance. Not yet, at least. But for now, this was all I could expect to receive from her.
I gently placed my other hand on top of hers. A gentle golden glow burst from my palms, pulsing outward and enveloping her body. Caster's breath stabilized. Her wounds healed as if they had never existed. The grime and blood disappeared, washed away by the wave of energy.
"Done."
With her hand still on top of mine, a soft smile adorned my lips as I stood up, hoping she would follow. Thankfully, she did, rising to her feet in one smooth motion. Only then did I let go of her.
Caster turned her hands towards herself and stared at them for a moment before raising her head, craning her neck out of necessity. Despite her hood covering her eyes, I sensed her gaze locking with mine.
"You are quite… tall," she remarked, fascination coloring her voice. "I did not expect a magus of such imposing stature to perform incredible healing and cleansing spells without an incantation."
At her words, I could only respond with a sheepish grin. "I'm not normally this big. But thank you. You actually just reminded me of something. Give me a moment while I go back to how I was before."
If memory served me right, for Celestial Inventory, I included complete control over any aesthetic changes that were caused by any item. That meant I could do this.
Focusing my intent, I willed the change I desired. A ripple passed through me. My height diminished, the imposing Heracles/EMIYA fused armor vanished like smoke, replaced instantly by my old clothes. My white hair shortened and darkened back to its natural dark brown color.
However, despite the physical changes, the power the cards granted me remained as strong as before, unchanged.
Caster tilted her head slightly within the deep shadow of her hood. "A shapeshifting ability as well? Or perhaps a Bounded Field altering perception? Most intriguing."
Her voice, while still cautious, held a note of genuine academic curiosity now, a stark contrast to the raw despair minutes before.
"Just a small trick of mine," I deflected with a small, easy smile. The rain continued its steady drumming, but the oppressive gloom had lifted slightly. She was healed, standing, and curious. That was progress.
Her posture remained wary, but the trembling weakness was gone. She stood tall within her dark robes, an aura of ancient power, though diminished, radiating once more. "You offered more than healing, Kayden. You spoke of a contract. A Master and Servant bond."
"I did," I confirmed, meeting the unseen gaze beneath her hood. "It would stabilize you, give you a steady source of magical energy. But," I paused, the weight of the next words settling in. Honesty now was crucial. "Before we discuss that further, there's something you need to know. Full transparency."
Caster's hooded head inclined slightly. "Transparency is a rare currency. Speak."
"The Servant who wounded you… Lancer. Cu Chulainn."
A sharp intake of breath. I felt the air around her chill, a subtle gathering of hostile mana. "The Hound of Ulster," she hissed, the name dripping with venom. "Your point?"
"He was bound to Kirei Kotomine. The Overseer of this war." I kept my voice level, factual. "I encountered them at Fuyuki Church. We fought. I defeated Lancer. And then… I severed his contract with Kirei using a powerful artifact. He serves me now."
Silence. Thick, heavy, charged with the sudden crackle of her suppressed magic. The rain seemed to fall harder for a moment.
"You…" Her voice was dangerously low, trembling with fury. "You stole the Servant who nearly ended me? And now you stand before me, offering a contract? Is this some elaborate jest? A final cruelty before delivering me to him?"
Caster took a half-step back, one hand rising defensively. "Do you intend to parade his victory over me? To gloat?"
"No," I stated firmly, holding my ground, my hands still open and visible. "Absolutely not. I'm telling you because I won't hide it. Unnecessary secrets breed distrust, and I need you to understand the situation fully if we're to work together. Cu serves me now. His previous actions were under Kirei's command. His current loyalty is to me."
"Loyalty shifts like sand," she spat. "Why should I believe you? Why should I trust the Master of the one who hunted me? How do I know this isn't a trap? That you won't bind me and then hand me over to him?"
Each question was a dagger, sharpened over years of betrayal.
"Wait." Her fury faltered momentarily, eclipsed by something sharper: pure, unadulterated disbelief. "You claim you defeated the Hound of Ulster? In single combat?"
I nodded. Took her a while to comprehend that. It was a bit amusing to see, though my face hadn't changed. Laughing at her reaction would be… inappropriate.
Her voice turned icy, razor-edged with skepticism. "Impossible. You bear no Spirit Core. You are not a Servant. No human, no matter how potent their magecraft, could stand against such a powerful Heroic Spirit in direct confrontation and win, let alone subjugate one. Explain that absurdity before speaking of contracts or loyalty!"
"Fair questions," I acknowledged, meeting the unseen intensity beneath her hood without flinching.
It seems I had my work cut out for me. Gaining her trust was a harder challenge than beating Lancer.
I gestured vaguely at myself, transforming back into my Servant form for a moment before returning to my normal form. The different height perspectives of a giant and a mundane man were staggeringly different. "Let's just say I have access to power that lets me punch significantly above my weight class. Power that let me match Lancer blow-for-blow and ultimately overpower him."
"I suppose you wouldn't mind explaining what that power is." Her tone was skeptical.
"Not at all." I gave her an easygoing smile.
Harmless info in exchange for a little trust? A fair exchange.
"I have artifacts that allow me to harness the complete power of a Servant. This includes their combat experience, parameters, skills, and Noble Phantasms. At the moment, I have two such cards installed, allowing me to wield the combined power of two Servants without issues."
"What?!" Shock colored her voice. "That's… absurd! Do you speak the truth?"
"Would you believe me if I just showed you a Noble Phantasm?"
A slight pause.
"…Yes."
Raising my hand in a calm manner, I traced Bakuya, holding it out for her to take. The thought of showing her Rule Breaker came to mind at first, but I'll save that surprise for another day.
A small gasp escaped Caster's lips as she received the pearly blade. For a moment, she didn't speak and merely stroked its surface. Her eyes remained glued to the blade.
"Remarkable…"
No longer needed, I willed the projection to fade into golden motes. "Do you believe me now?"
Caster's lips pressed together. "It seems I am left with no choice but to do so. However, you have yet to prove your good intentions."
"Hey, I'm being honest here." I crossed my arms, face stern. "You know, I could have bound you while you were helpless if that was my goal. I didn't. I healed you freely. And now, I offer the contract after revealing all this. As for Cu…"
I met the darkness under her hood squarely. "He follows my orders. If I tell him you are under my protection and an ally, he will stand beside you. His fight with you was a mission, not personal. He respects strength and a good fight. Seeing you survive, thrive, even after the circumstances you were in… he might even respect you now. Believe me, because I saved you when I had no reason to, and I'm telling you the truth when a lie would have been easier."
She didn't respond immediately. The crackling energy around her slowly subsided, replaced by a deep, contemplative stillness. I could almost feel her weighing my words, testing them against the bitter experience etched into her soul. The rain filled the silence.
"You possess… unsettling candor," she finally murmured, the fury and skepticism warring with wary calculation. "To reveal such potential conflict and prove such an… outlandish claim… It speaks either of profound stupidity or genuine, terrifying power. Or perhaps both."
"It's both," I admitted with a faint, wry smile. "But my intent stands. I want you as an ally. I believe we can achieve far more together than apart. And I believe you deserve that chance to seek your homeland, not fade in the mud."
Another long moment passed. The rain continued its relentless rhythm. Then, slowly, she lowered her defensive hand. "Very well, Kayden. Your honesty, however reckless, has earned you… consideration. I accept the offer of a Master-Servant contract." Her voice was regal, decisive. "Establish it."
Relief washed over me, warm despite the cold rain. "Good." I raised my left hand, the one bearing the stylized gate and circuit Command Spells. "Do I need a specific ritual, or…?"
She extended her own hand. "A simple channeling of will and intent through our connection will suffice. Focus your magical energy. Offer the terms."
I focused. The image of the contract formed in my mind: Mutual support. Protection. Shared purpose in navigating this war and finding a way for her goals. A steady flow of my immense magical energy. I channeled it through the Command Seals, a soft crimson light emanating from my hand and reaching towards hers.
Her fingers met the light. Violet energy, intricate and ancient, wove from her touch, intertwining with the crimson. It felt like forging a link, subtle but strong. A thread of understanding and obligation settled between us. The light pulsed once, brightly, then faded, leaving only the faintest hum of connection in the air.
"It is done," Caster stated, withdrawing her hand. The bond solidified—a steady stream of my energy flowing into her, stabilizing her form completely. "You are now my Master, Kayden."
"Glad to have you, Medea," I said, feeling the new connection settle beside the one I shared with Cu.
It felt stable. Strong. Good.
"Now," I said, gesturing towards her. "Grab onto my arm. We need to move."
She tilted her hooded head. "Move? To where?"
"I'm taking us to Fuyuki Church."
A flicker of tension returned. "The Overseer's den? And… Lancer."
"Yes. Time to introduce you to the team. Properly." I kept my tone matter-of-fact, projecting confidence. "Trust me."
Medea hesitated for only a heartbeat, then her gloved hand closed firmly around my forearm. "Very well, Master. Lead on."
I focused. Apparition.
The world dissolved into swirling darkness and crushing pressure, then snapped back into solidity. We stood inside Fuyuki Church, the scent of old incense and polished wood replacing the forest damp.
What the fuck happened while I was gone? The first sight that greeted us was… unusual.
Cu Chulainn stood near the altar, a look of intense concentration on his face. He was rhythmically tossing Kirei Kotomine's frozen, stiff-as-a-board form into the air like a grisly juggling club. The priest sailed up, reached the apex of his arc, hung for a split second, and then plummeted back down into Cu's waiting hands with a soft thump, only to be launched upwards again. Cu wore a wide, utterly mischievous grin, utterly absorbed in his macabre game.
Medea's grip on my arm tightened. I felt the surge of her magical energy, defensive and hostile, so I held my hand up, signalling for her to stay her hand.
We watched in silence for a few seconds. Up. Thump. Up. Thump. Up—
Cu caught Kirei on the downswing, his eyes flicking towards the door as if sensing our arrival. His grin froze. His eyes widened in surprise, flicking from me to the hooded figure gripping my arm. Recognition dawned, followed by pure, unadulterated shock.
"Ah, shi—" he started.
The distraction was fatal to his juggling act. Kirei's rigid form slipped from his grasp.
The priest hit the stone floor head-first with a sickeningly solid sound, landing in a perfectly stiff, horizontal position, still utterly immobilized by the Full Body-Bind Curse. His face remained impassive, but his eyes… his eyes burned with an intensity that could have melted stone.
Cu stared down at Kirei, then slowly looked back up at Medea and me, his expression a priceless mix of chagrin, surprise, and utter bewilderment.
"Uh… Master?" he managed, scratching the back of his head awkwardly. "What a surprise. Wasn't expecting company. Or… her." He gestured vaguely at Medea, then down at Kirei. "And, uh… he kinda fell?"
Medea's voice, cold and sharp as ice, cut through the awkward silence. "Fell? It looked remarkably like you were using the Overseer as a plaything, Hound of Ulster." Her grip on my arm remained vice-like. "Though I suppose I shouldn't have expected any less from a dog."
Woah! What was with the sudden hostility? I mean, I get that he almost killed her, but still.
"Hoh?" Cu grinned and held out his hand. Gae Bolg returned to his grasp like an eager pet. "Barking already, Caster? Sounds like you're itching for round two. I'm happy to oblige."
He shifted into a loose, predatory stance, his eyes locked on Medea's shadowed hood.
Medea's free hand began to rise, violet sparks dancing at her fingertips. The air crackled with nascent power, the scent of ozone cutting through the incense.
I felt a headache coming on. What the hell did I just sign up for?
-=-
A/N: This one's a beefy chapter. 4.7k words in total. Was gonna split it into two, but cutting it off in the middle didn't feel remotely right.