Beta read by Shigiya and Paragon of Awesomeness
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-???-
The path to the Capital stretched all along the countryside, well-worn by the passage of countless boots, hooves, and wagon wheels. It wound like a snake between sparse forests and open plains, linking far-flung provinces to the Empire's heart. Somewhere along this desolate stretch, just a few paces from the roadside, stood a lonely tavern — wooden, weather-beaten, and stubborn against the wind. A place not bothered to be recorded in any maps but known by every merchant, scout, and wanderer who had ever passed through these parts whilst craving a warm meal with a stiff drink and a roof overhead. It was there that the former prime minister and his escort decided to rest, bodies aching from the last battle, nerves wound too tight to go on without a breath.
"Hah! Now that hit the spot!" Leone declared, downing a mug of ale and slamming it down on the table with such force that it groaned in protest. She was grinning like a child who'd just won a prize at the carnival.
"Watch it, lass!" barked the barkeep from behind the counter — a grey-bearded man with a scar across one cheek and the look of someone who once knew how to handle a crossbow. "Put any more muscle into that and I'll be charging you for repairs!"
The tavern, though simple in build, looked to be in overall decent condition for something found in the middle of nowhere. Wooden beams lined with old hunting trophies of different kinds of low class Danger Beasts, a fireplace crackling softly in the corner, and the faint clatter of dishes from the back room. A somewhat peaceful lull hung in the air — though Emiya knew well that such quiet never lasted long once the ale flowed and men loosened their belts.
"Don't worry, boss!" Leone waved him off with a carefree smirk. "We're just here for a quick drink and a good night's rest. Then it's back to the road. You better give us your best room while you're at it!"
"So long as you've got the coin to cover it, the room is yours," the old man replied without even glancing back, arms full of mugs as he moved toward a waiting table.
She grinned, took another swig, and leaned back in her chair, visibly relaxing.
Emiya, however, remained standing for a moment longer, casting a glance through the window at the fading daylight. "We shouldn't linger too long," he said at last, being the first one of them to actually address the other directly since before they came in here. "Our main objective is still to get the former minister to the Capital. That hasn't changed."
Leone groaned, rolling her eyes. "Again with the mission talk? You're worse than the boss. It's already getting dark — no way we're reaching the Capital before dawn even if we push the horses so hard it'd risk killing them. Or would you rather try to run the rest of the way? Because I'm telling you now, we both know that the old man could never make such a journey, and while his daughter's tough, she's nowhere near as strong as us — and I am not carrying anyone that far."
"Spear can manage the distance if she paces herself well. I'll take the old man."
She threw him a sidelong look. "Oh? And I suppose I'll deal with any and all Danger Beasts that cross our path? You know, the ones that come out specifically at night? Maybe you can throw in a little sword magic from the sidelines while I fight for my life, yeah?" She scoffed and leaned forward, jabbing a finger into the table. "It's better if we rest here for a few hours, recover our strength, then hit the road again when it's safer. Won't kill us."
"…"
A small sip of his drink was his answer to those words, but he offered no protest for he knew she was right. The road ahead was treacherous enough during the day — twisting paths that cut through forested hills, where everything from Earth Dragons to packs of Wrigglers, giant centipedes and so on roamed, not to mention the classic potential of bandits. The latter few might not pose much of a threat alone, but in swarms they were fast, vicious, and more than capable of overwhelming even a trained fighter. He could handle himself — but protecting others on top of that, especially ones unused to battle, was another story entirely.
"I suppose you're right," he admitted after a pause, folding his arms. "No sense charging ahead just to end up in a worse situation."
"You're still brooding," Leone said, her tone lighter now, but her eyes sharp.
He didn't respond immediately.
"It's been two years since I last saw her," he said quietly. "But I doubt Najenda has really changed. Not in any way that matters. She inherited too much from her father and from the loyalists who stood at his side. She sent me out here for a reason, but I know her. She won't just sit still and wait with what's about to happen at the Capital."
The person next to him neither denied or "I feel like this is one of those 'pot calling the kettle black' moments. That's the phrase, right?"
"What's your point?"
"Are you sure you two aren't blood-related? The way you talk, the way you clash, feels a little too familiar sometimes."
"I've already answered that," he said, taking a slow sip of his ale. "But if I had to guess, she's going to do something reckless. Wouldn't be surprised if she tried heading back to the Capital."
"You make her sound like a rookie." Leone's foot nudged him under the table, just enough to make her point. "Sure, our last mission there fell apart, but that was a rare instance. If she senses anything's off, she'll get out, whether or not she's got the target in her sights."
She leaned back, letting her barefoot tap lightly against his shin again, this time more absentmindedly. "We all know the stakes, Emiya. We signed up for this fully aware of what happens if we mess up. We're not fools. We know death's never far off. Still," she chuckled, resting her cheek against the table as she looked up at him with a tired, almost wistful smile, "it's funny, isn't it? Assassins playing the role of saviors."
She wasn't drunk, this was just her second mug in, but the relaxed edge in her tone suggested it would take a while for the alcohol to begin settling in.
"Doing this has been kind of nice, actually. I can't even remember the last time we were sent to save someone. It's always 'kill this,' 'silence them,' 'make it clean,' 'crush their skulls.' You get used to that kind of life. Sure, you know that killing those assholes will save people's lives, but breaking the pattern now and then… doesn't hurt."
He did not disagree.
There were moments he'd wondered how half the people in Night Raid had ended up there at all. Some were easier to place, Najenda and Bulat, for instance. Both former soldiers, once loyal to the Empire, who'd turned on it after witnessing firsthand the rot that had taken hold of the place they once called home. He understood their reasons, even if he didn't share the same sentiment. The Capital was where he'd grown up, yes… but it had never felt like home.
Then there was Lubbock. Military as well and once the son of a well-off merchant who wouldn't have wanted for anything had he decided to stick with that life. His reasons for joining Night Raid weren't about ideals or vengeance. A big part of it, Emiya knew, was love, or at least infatuation — he was driven by an undying loyalty to someone he cared about deeply. Bulat, a soldier to the core, did not like the path the Empire had taken and wished to change it, unable to overlook it any longer after what they did to his former commander. And Tatsumi had been a bright-eyed idealist who'd been set up as a scapegoat for the sake of someone else's convenience.
And then there were the others — Akame, Sheele, Mine… and Leone. He knew little about them. Too little to form any real opinion. Which made him curious.
"If you don't mind me asking," he said, shifting slightly in his seat, "why did you join Night Raid?"
Leone arched an eyebrow, then gave a quiet laugh. "You're wondering why I'd bother with something as big as changing the Empire… when I grew up in the slums of the Capital and got to experience the worst of what that place had to offer?"
"That's one way to put it, but not exactly," he replied with a shrug. "You don't need to be a former soldier or some disgraced noble to have a valid reason for turning against the Empire. But most of the others, they've got ties to it, people they lost, something they want to reclaim. As far as I know, you don't. So why risk your life?"
She didn't answer right away. Instead, she downed the rest of her mug in one long, practiced gulp. The empty clink echoed softly as she set it back on the table.
"There used to be a massage parlor in the slums," she said at last, her tone casual but a little distant. "I worked there for a while."
He raised an eyebrow. A massage parlor? In the slums? He was familiar enough with the sorts of 'establishments' that thrived in the darker corners of the capital. They usually weren't the kind to offer just back rubs.
"Not that kind of massage parlor, pervert," she added flatly, catching the look on his face. A slight pout formed at the edge of her lips. "Well, sort of. It was that kind of place, technically. There were a few girls who'd sleep with customers if the coin was good. But I wasn't really into it… mostly because shaking my breasts a bit already earned me quite a lot. I thought about it once or twice, but things got in the way, and honestly, I kept pushing it off."
"I still don't see what that has to do with the Revolutionary Army."
"You'd be surprised," she said, smirking. "Our place was popular, more than you'd think for a rundown building in a half-collapsing alley. We had nobles coming in from the upper tiers. Most of them didn't care about the massages, though. Just wanted to feel a woman's warms or seek a good fuck without anyone in their circles seeing or judging them. You know, the standard stuff."
Her tone dropped a little. "The problem was, a lot of them didn't exactly have a taste for women my age or older. Their eyes… drifted younger."
He didn't say anything, knowing where this story was going.
"There were kids. Too many of them. Some were sold by their own parents, others were orphans, skin and bones, doing what they had to just to survive. And those bastards, those rich, smiling bastards treated them like they were toys. I lost count of the amounts of depraved things they done to them before simply discarding them with barely any coins to buy a meal."
She leaned back, her eyes losing some of their humor.
"I couldn't stand it. So I started interfering. Used what little pull I had. Seduced a few regulars and syphoned some money and cashed in on a few favors. Got a couple of them to look the other way, or slip me some coins, or secure a cart when no one was watching. Helped the kids disappear, one by one."
She tapped her empty mug with a fingernail. "Eventually, word of what I was doing reached the Revolutionary Army. They approached me, offered support. Said I had potential. And well… the rest is history, I guess. Not exactly a grand tale, but that's how it happened." She gave a half-smile. "Sorry if it's not the tearjerker you were hoping for."
"I don't know why you think I'd want something like that," he said, arching a brow. "It's different than I expected, sure, but you still didn't fully answer the question."
"Oh?" She looked at him, head tilted.
"Why keep doing it? You got the kids out. You could've walked away then. So why stay? Why keep risking your neck for a cause that never really touched your life directly? Are you hoping to free all of them?"
Leone took her time before answering. Her fingers drummed lightly on the table, eyes fixed somewhere just past him.
"I mean, kinda? Sure, I could've asked the Revolutionary Army to ship me off somewhere quiet. Build a new life, start fresh, maybe even be happy for once." She shrugged, but the motion lacked weight. "But that kind of life… it doesn't sit right with me. Never did. Even after everything that's happened, even with the filth and the blood and the grief, I still think of the slums as home. Call me mad, but I do."
She leaned back, her gaze steady now. "And when some greedy bastard starts circling like a vulture, planning to tear it all down? Well. Someone's got to stop him, don't they?"
Before he could speak, she waved the thought away with a flick of her hand. "Anyway, enough about me. It's your turn."
"Me?" he asked, raising a brow. "What's there to talk about?"
He wasn't hiding much, aside from where he truly came from, but even that hadn't been pried into much.
"If you're going to ask whether you can copy my magic, don't bother."
She rolled her eyes. "It's not that. I'm talking about what happened during the fight."
He tilted his head slightly, curious. "What about it?"
"You hesitated," she said, simply.
Ah. So that was it.
He had to admit, she was more perceptive than he'd given her credit for. He hadn't even seen her watching the fight, yet she'd picked up on something most would've missed.
"I suppose you could say that," he replied after a pause.
"Why?" she asked. "Did you and Liver have history? You're not usually the type to freeze up in battle. If anything, you're the exact opposite."
He gave a quiet chuckle at that. "I'm not some emotionless machine, Leone."
"Didn't say you were," she replied, though the ghost of a smirk tugged at the corner of her mouth.
"But no," he continued. "We didn't really know each other. Met him once or twice. Exchange greetings, that's it. No deeper connection."
"Then why the pause?"
"I was thinking," he said, his voice quieter now. "Wondering if there was another path I could take… besides killing him."
She blinked. He could tell that answer wasn't one she'd been expecting.
"Liver wasn't just another soldier," he said. "He was a decorated general. Decades of service. Experience, strategy, command, men like him don't come around often. If we'd managed to turn him, even just get him talking, it would've done more for the cause than ten Teigus ever could. I wanted to try. Just once."
He exhaled through his nose, not quite a sigh.
"But I already knew how it would end. The man was loyal… loyal beyond reason. The sort who'd march into hell if it was stamped with the Empire's seal. There was never going to be a middle ground. Not with him."
He paused, then added quietly, "Killing every obstacle in our path might be efficient. But it's not the kind of person I want to become again."
His tone was distant now, haunted by something that didn't belong to this world.
He had done it before—ended lives by the thousands without so much as pausing to look back. All in the name of balance, of preserving human history, the greater good as some would call it. Cities reduced to silence, entire populations wiped from existence, and all it had cost him was the ability to sleep at night.
But this place… this world… he never really treated it as a second chance, the chances of Alaya relinquishing him were practically zero. And even if by some miracle it was, he wasn't about to squander it by falling back into the easy rhythm of slaughter. As long as the semblance of freedom appeared before him, no matter how false it turned out to be, taking a small moment to enjoy that sensation was not something he would regret.
Leone studied him for a long moment, her usual cheekiness nowhere to be seen.
"I get it," she said at last, her voice low. "You're not wrong."
A breath slipped from her lips, part sigh, part confession.
"I've been killing for years now too," she murmured. "Since before the Army even knew my name. In the slums, death was just… part of the scenery. I saw it every day. Caused it more times than I can count."
She looked down at her hands.
"The scary part? I don't feel anything anymore. Not really. Someone dies, someone begs, someone bleeds, it barely even stirs me. I used to think that meant I was strong. But now… I wonder if I've just gone numb."
"It's a dangerous slope," he said quietly, his voice edged with something older than weariness—something like knowing.
She grinned, though the edges of it didn't quite reach her eyes. "Yeah, maybe. But I've got nothing else to fall back on. Not unless I fancy roaming the countryside as a merc-for-hire or going back to rubbing shoulders and knots in some dingy massage parlor again. This body is still plenty sexy, what man wouldn't salivate upon seeing me naked and throw a pretty penny just for a touch." She waved a hand dismissively, as though trying to swat away the image herself. "This assassin gig work pays way better, and it means something."
Then, softer, the grin melted into something gentler. "Besides, I've got people counting on me now. Friends. I can't just vanish when they need me most. If I disappear, that's one less person around to back you up."
He chuckled, not unkindly. "Support me? That's the first I've heard of it."
"I'm being serious," she said, her tone cutting the air between them like a blade. The smile had faded completely now, replaced by something far more sober. "I know you're strong — strong enough to make the rest of us look like children playing with swords. You fought that ice bitch back in the Capital and lived to talk about it. But even so, you're not invincible. You're still human."
She paused.
"I heard bits and pieces," she continued. "From the boss. Even managed to scrape what little bits and pieces there were about a supposed redheaded boy adopted by the late general Nagumo. You never say much about yourself, but… I got the impression you were lonely."
Lonely.
The word struck harder than he'd expected.
Hard to remember when was the last time someone brought it up to him, Rin did in one of his summons maybe. But now that she had, he couldn't quite bring himself to dismiss it.
Loneliness. That was putting it lightly.
He remembered the barren hill, a graveyard of steel, swords jutting from scorched earth like the remnants of a forgotten war. An endless wasteland where time stood still and he was little more than a shadow bound to its edge. Mission after mission, world after world, all of them blurred together under the grinding weight of duty. No escape. No rest. No voice to answer his own. Just silence and steel and the ever-tightening leash of the Counter Force, with nothing but his own thoughts and memories accompanying him.
Torture was the only word that fit. Not loneliness. Torture wrapped in regret, sealed in time in a version of hell of his own creation.
He even tried to change it. By creating a paradox. Killing the boy he used to be, trying to erase the mistake before it began. It hadn't worked, of course. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Emiya knew it wouldn't have worked regardless. But he'd tried anyway.
And now, somehow, he'd ended up here.
"I can manage on my own," he said at last, more to the space between them than to her directly. "Frankly, it's safer that way."
He hadn't expected the reaction.
"Like hell it is!" Her fist slammed the table with a force that made his mug rattle. Ale sloshed violently from the rim, splashing his sleeve and face. He blinked as foam dripped from his chin, slowly wiping it off with the back of his hand.
"And who are you to decide that?" she snapped. Her voice rang sharp and furious. "Safer? That's bullshit and you know it."
He didn't speak. Couldn't.
"You keep going like this, and one day you'll hit a wall you can't break through. You think being alone is some noble burden to carry? It's not. It's stupid. And dangerous. You're not some cursed hero with the whole damn world on your shoulders, so stop pretending you are."
Not a hero huh… for some reason he found himself unable to stop an amused smile from spreading on his face.
"And what's worse?" she continued. "You know it's not logical. You know it's not smart. You're just scared of letting people in, because maybe they'll get hurt, or maybe you will somehow be responsible for their suffering or something else along those lines. You get what I'm saying, right? I'm not usually good with such things so bear with me!"
Still, he had no answer to give, curious to hear what she had to say, he merely nodded his head and let her go on.
"There's nothing wrong with asking for help," she continued, taking a closer seat next to him. "Nothing wrong with relying on the people who care about you. You think we're weak? That we're just dead weight? Think again."
She leaned in, her shoulder pressing firmly against his. Close enough that he could feel the heat radiating off her. "Sure, I might not survive a one-on-one with that ice bitch, but I'd make damn sure leave a nasty fucking wound on her body that won't heal any time soon. And Akame? If she so much as scratches her, it will be enough. Mine is a hell of a shot who can provide you with good cover, Lubbock for all his pervertedness is useful as hell with those strings. Sheele while a bit of a clutz, can handle herself in battle and has no remorse for killing bad people and Bulat is just a freaking beast. If we work together—then maybe we could take the whole fucking Empire down."
It was ironic, really.
The one who spent her nights drinking and flirting, tossing jokes like coins at strangers-she was the one who'd finally cornered him with nothing but truth. In that moment, her words reminded him, strangely, of Esdeath. Something that he honestly never thought would be even possible in the first place, especially how polar opposite both of them were in the first place.
"I'll give it a try," he said quietly, voice barely above the clink of mugs and low hum of their surroundings. Perhaps having this moment with a small break was not so bad after all.
Leone's grin burst onto her face like a firework. She raised her tankard and tapped it against his with a jovial thud. "That's the spirit! Now let's get drunk!—Wait, hold on. Where the hell are those two again?"
With how personal the conversation got at the end, Leone had lost track of the two guests they were supposed to protect in the first place — so did he for a small moment there.
After the brutal clash against the danger beasts, Chouri and Spear had ridden off toward a nearby outpost, where one of their personnel was stationed. They were tasked with more than just delivering a message from what he gathered and to oversee the burial of every dead soldier they fought and the fallen beasts. Every bloated, rotting corpse still lingering on the battlefield was a threat; decay near villages and taverns was as good as a beacon for Danger Beasts.
He'd offered to help, naturally. But the old man had waved him off with that same stubborn pride he always carried, as if handling it alone was a point of honour. Emiya could only watch them ride out, his offer was not accepted.
"They should still be cleaning things up," he muttered, staring absently into the dark froth of his half-drunk mug. "We'll wait until they're done… then be on our way."
"Don't forget they'll need some rest," Leone reminded him, stretching her arms in front of her head like a lazy feline. "So like I said, better we leave at dawn. I'll bet my entire ass we'll have company the closer we get to the capital. There's no way those vultures are letting that old geezer get anywhere near it without trying something first."
He gave a faint grunt of reluctant agreement. "Fine. But not a second later."
"There we go!" she said, clapping her hands with a mock ceremony. "Now, finish your fucking ale! You sip it like a porcelain princess. Be a man, for heaven's sake!"
"I'm not a fan of ale," he replied flatly, lifting the mug without enthusiasm.
"What!?" The blonde's whole body jerked like she'd been slapped. "You're not a fan of ale!? What about beer?"
"It's better to use it when making a batter."
"Wine!?"
"I prefer to use it for a sauce."
"What the fuck is wrong with you!? We need to get you addicted to this stuff immediately!"
Her reaction was so hilariously exaggerated, genuine offence painted across her face like a caricature, that he couldn't help it. A laugh burst from his chest, unguarded and real. It was the kind of laugh he hadn't let himself have in weeks, maybe months.
She laughed too, less of a giggle, more of a hearty guffaw that seemed to fill every corner of the small tavern. And so the hours slipped by, the night darkening around them, cloaking the outside world in shadows with the tavern getting rowdier by the minute.
They traded stories between sips and banter, voices lowering only when the fire had shrunk to embers, most of them being of his younger days when both Najenda and Esdeath were not yet at each other's throats. He found himself studying her more closely, taking notes on how his current opinion on the woman had changed compared to the first time they met.
Leone turned out to be different than what he imagined.
For all her flirting, cheerful bravado, she was observant—dangerously so. There was a quiet intelligence beneath the jokes, even simple questions always asked for answers that slowly gave her more information on his past. She would make an excellent information gatherer, then again, she already was one.
The bright personality certainly helped at lowering a person's wariness around her, naturally charismatic as one would call it.
No wonder Najenda kept her so close.
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(A few hours later)
"I… I think I'm going to v-vomit… Eurgh!"
And of course, he should have known that moment would only last for a brief period.
With the night having fully descended, Emiya found himself crouched beside a creek, gently patting the back of the blonde assassin who'd been retching for several minutes — the same one who just went and consumed an entire barrel worth of ale. Leone had clearly drunk more than her body could tolerate and could barely walk straight.
"How the hell are you not drunk yet, you ba-ba… urgh, bastard…" she groaned between dry heaves.
"Magic," he replied dryly.
She scoffed and weakly jabbed his stomach with her elbow. "You and that damn magic of yours. What can't it do? At least use it to make me stop feeling like death. It's the least you can do for a lady!"
Her complaint was immediately cut off by another retch. She hunched over, breathing heavily, waiting for the nauseating swirl in her gut to settle. "I-I'm finez false alarm… yeah… false alarm."
Good, at least she did not empty the content of her stomach on his clothes. "Unfortunately, it doesn't work that way. I can only do so much. I can fetch you some water."
"No," she muttered, waving him off. "Feels like anything going down my throat will come right back up. Sorry, Emiya. Looks like I won't be giving you that spicy treatment tonight. Rain check for tomorrow. I'll show you my legendary massage skills."
He rolled his eyes. This girl really didn't know when to quit. "As much as I appreciate the offer, I'll have to pass."
"Tch. Killjoy. What, you're scared of sleeping with a woman like me? Or are you just loyal to that ice bitch?" Upon uttering those nonsensical accusations, golden eyes went down to observe and knead her breasts without any shame. "Then again, her chest is bigger than mine…"
"Right. You've officially had too much to drink," he muttered, getting to his feet. "Let's head back inside. A few hours of sleep will do you some good."
Instead of following, Leone stumbled to a nearby patch of grass and collapsed onto her back, limbs sprawled, a content smile on her face.
"Why sleep in that crusty old tavern when we've got the cool breeze and this view?" She gestured upwards. "Look at the stars. Gorgeous, aren't they?"
"You do realize you wasted your money booking that room," he replied calmly, sitting beside her with a sigh. "Don't blame me if you wake up covered in bug bites."
"You've gotten more uptight lately! Drinking's supposed to loosen you up, not shove a stick further up your ass! Relax, will you? Let go for once, or else l just force you to relax."
Without warning, she shot up and tugged him down beside her, wrapping an arm around his shoulder. Using a surprising amount of strength and speed… was she really drunk?
"There we go! Now I've got a living space heater in case it gets cold."
"I'm not sleeping outside."
"Then stay just an hour. Talk with me."
He shrugged. "About what?"
"The stars," she said, her fingers dancing through the air like she was tracing constellations. "It's rare to see this many. No moon, no noisy lights. Just us and the sky. Don't you think it's beautiful?"
It was. With only the faint glow of the tavern in the distance, the sky stretched endlessly above them, dotted with stars that looked close enough to touch. He had to admit—it was a breathtaking sight. Not unlike the hideout, also tucked away in the middle of nowhere, isolated and quiet. He supposed she never took the moment to check it out from there, or was just too lazy to do so.
"You know," she continued, voice softer now, "I never really get the time to think about stuff like this. Always moving, always fighting, going on missions, training and keeping an eye on Lubbock. But looking at those stars… Have you ever wondered if there's another world out there like ours?"
He blinked, slightly caught off guard by the question. "That's a bit out of nowhere, why do you ask?"
Leone chuckled faintly. "Just a silly thought. Something that popped into my head and wouldn't go away. I used to know a kid, back in the slums. Didn't have much, didn't talk much. But every night, he'd stargaze. I was his only friend. One night, he asked me that same question."
"And what did you say?"
"I said, why not."
Her hand curled into a fist as her eyes wandered skyward, her expression shifting, fleeting traces of emotion flashing across her features as if stirred by the stars themselves.
"It'd be kind of awesome, wouldn't it? A different world with people like us. I know it's unlikely, but just imagine that. Makes me wonder what kind of life they're living… if they're going through the same bullshit we are. And if one day, maybe, I could go there—just to see what it's like. I wonder if their ale would taste better or not, probably the latter, the ones made by the old man at the boar's bar is the best"
He didn't respond right away. Her words settled in the air between them, carried off gently by the night breeze. His gaze followed hers, rising to the tapestry above, and a different set of thoughts stirred in his mind.
"If there are other worlds out there," he said quietly, "then they probably have their own sets of problems to deal with."
Leone turned her head, blinking at him. "What do you mean?"
"If there are humans over there, then conflict is inevitable. It always is. People fighting people for land, for power, for beliefs and so much more. There'd be corrupt kingdoms just like ours. Monsters, disasters, maybe even worse things than danger beasts. I know it's not the most comforting thought, but… for all we know, this world might be the safer one."
He wasn't even sure he believed that himself.
"Nevermind, I'll take back what I said at the end."
Safer was a relative term. The Empire was one thing—an oppressive, blood-soaked regime—but the Danger Beasts were something else entirely. Monstrous and numerous, they were far beyond anything imagined in children's bedtime stories. If anything, they were like the phantasmal creatures of old myths, except still present, and far too numerous in terms of their numbers.
Perhaps someday, this world would follow a path similar to his own, where creatures like that became rare, fading into legend as the march of time buried them under centuries of forgetting. A future where mankind would treat them as folklore, stories to scare children, with only a few knowing the truth of what once was. Who knew if the Empire would still exist by then? Or if anyone would even remember the names of the Night Raid, the Revolution, or the weapons known as Teigu?
Mostly depended if Orichalcum and the knowledge itself continued to survive the passage of time.
Maybe, just maybe, everything they were fighting for now would be swallowed by history and reduced to fragments, unearthed centuries later, studied and misinterpreted by those who never truly knew.
"That's a bit funny to think about," Leone murmured, her voice softer now. "That our world is the safer one."
She let out a breath, slow and tired.
"I honestly doubt it. Even if Esdeath didn't exist, someone else would've taken her place. There are enough twisted bastards in this world to fill the void. And that's not even counting all the other shit we've got to deal with. As much as I hate her… I doubt even other worlds have monsters like her walking around."
"You'd be surprised."
The words left his mouth almost thoughtlessly with several faces flashing within his mind. Esdeath might've been a terror to everything that breathed within the Empire, but this world was vast, uncharted, wild in places he had never set foot in. For all he knew, there could be others like her, lurking on distant shores or hidden in different continents and kingdoms, just as dangerous, just as monstrous. And in his own world? There were entities worse than any general—Apostle Ancestors, crazed maged with too much power at their disposal, Beasts, certain Servants, Divine Spirits, eldritch entities and old monsters like Zelretch who could play with dimensions for amusement if he so desired and the list just went on. Compared to that, Esdeath almost seemed… Trivial at best.
"You sound kind of confident," Leone murmured, her voice edged with curiosity, slurring only slightly. "How would you even know?"
"Just a guess," he replied, letting the moment hang in silence.
She didn't answer. Her head lolled slightly, eyes blinking slower now, her entire body sinking deeper into relaxation. He watched her, waiting for sleep to claim her so he could bring her back inside.
But then, her voice floated through the dark again—soft.
"Hey, Emiya… I know you probably don't take me seriously. You probably think everything I said earlier was just drunken rambling. But I meant it. You don't have to handle everything on your own… You're not the only one who's strong. It's okay to let someone else carry the weight for once. To lean on someone else's shoulders."
She shifted in the grass, curling against him like a large cat seeking warmth. Her head found his shoulder, and before he could react, her arm draped around his waist—followed by one leg sliding over his lap, hooking loosely around his thigh. She tucked herself close, snug and comfortable.
He glanced down, exhaling slowly. "I see I've become a human blanket."
"Lions in a pack always cuddle up when they sleep," she whispered, her voice sultry despite its sleepiness. "I'm just following instinct."
He rolled his eyes followed by a sarcastic tone from his voice. "Sure you are. I wonder what other instincts your Teigu's been messing with."
Rather than respond, she shifted again. Then, before he could stop her, her lips brushed against his jaw—warm and teasing. And the next moment, he felt it: the slow, wet glide of her tongue tracing up the side of his cheek, hot breath brushing his skin like silk.
The sensation sent a jolt through him.
His hand immediately rose, catching her face and nudging her away, but not too harshly. Her smile was wide, smug and playful.
"Caught you off guard, didn't I?" she said, eyes gleaming in the starlight.
"You're going to blame that on lion instincts too, aren't you?"
"It's not an excuse if it's true," she purred.
This girl… One moment she was having a deep, heartfelt conversation—next, she was licking his face like it was some kind of joke. His cheek now reeked of alcohol and ale, sticky and warm despite the night breeze. Wiping it off wouldn't help; the scent clung stubbornly to his skin.
He looked down again, sighing with resignation.
She was already asleep. Out cold with a doopy smile on her face.
Her snoring was soft, rhythmic, and she hadn't moved from her position—head still resting against him, arms and legs wrapped securely around his body like he was a living pillow. He shifted slightly, trying to get more comfortable, but didn't push her off.
"…Tch."
Still, he didn't move her. Not yet.
{Break}
-The Capital-
Things had really taken a turn for the worse, for this was the last person Bulat wanted to confront with the new kid around.
"I won't be fooled by that trick again. Now—I'll ask you once. Why isn't he with you?"
She had Tatsumi—her grip vise-like around his wrists, squeezing hard enough to make him wince. Pain visibly shot up the boy's, and he struggled against her hold, but there was no budging her. Somehow, she reacted in time, stopping Tatsumi from using Shambhala to escape. To make matters worse, they were now surrounded—several figures emerging from the shadows, forming a loose circle around them. Most of their faces were familiar, former subordinates of the Prime Minister's son, now clearly aligned with her.
Najenda did mention about the Wild Hunt merging with the Jaegers.
'It's been so long since I saw her this close…' His thoughts flickered beneath the helmet, the distorted voice of memory whispering. 'She hasn't changed much physically, but something about her now… she's terrifying.'
His lips twisted into a faint, strained smile, hidden beneath the metal. He remembered her from the days under General Liver—back when she was just a rising prodigy with potential. Back when she was still human.
But now? Now she radiated the same overwhelming presence as a Danger Beast—an unstoppable force of nature wearing the skin of a woman. If not for the armor protecting his body and nerves, he was certain he'd be paralyzed with fear, already dead on his knees.
"I asked you a question," she repeated, her voice a cold dagger.
"—Hah!"
He didn't answer with words.
His response came in the form of steel. The spear—Neunote, bound to his Teigu—flared in his grip, and he thrust it forward with everything he had, a blinding lunge aimed directly at the blue-haired monster. She released Tatsumi, just for a moment—but it was enough.
He shot forward like a Bulat, grabbing his comrade by the shoulder and yanking him back, adrenaline fueling every movement.
"Aniki!" Tatsumi's voice cracked with relief, their escape bought by the narrowest of margins.
"Teleport us out of here, now!" he barked at the boy, urgency flaring in his voice. His instincts screamed that time was almost up. At best, he could only buy them a moment. Their initial mission—to rescue the old healer—was already a complete failure… she wasn't even here.
"I don't have it! She forced it out of my hand!"
Just as he'd feared. Shambhala lay behind Esdeath now, the Teigu discarded and out of reach. If they wanted it back, they'd have to get past her and the rest of the Jaegers who were quickly closing in.
"Grand Fall!"
"Look out!" Tatsumi's shout pulled him back to the moment.
He barely had time to react before a looming black shadow descended from the sky like a meteor.
"Hang on!"
He dove aside, just in time for a massive figure in heavy, dark-purple armor to crash down where he had been standing. The impact cracked the stone beneath their feet, a shockwave rippling outward.
His eyes narrowed behind his visor as he took in the new arrival.
The armor was unfamiliar in design, but unmistakable in essence with several minor traits that paralleled his own Teigu upon closer inspection. Even though this was the first time Bulat eyes gazed at this armor, his instincts flared up along with the very armor around him, almost resonating with those emotions as if recognizing a part of it itself.
'Damn it… Grand Chariot.'
Years of wielding Incursio had given him insight into its origins—into the Danger Beast whose body had been used to forge it, and into the second set of armor made from that very same creature.
The successor to Incursio, the latter of which happened to be a prototype. This one being none other than the perfected counterpart.
"Stay behind me," he commanded, spear rising to guard position. "No matter what, do not try to fight that thing in your condition. Shambhala or not—you'll die. Wait until I can make an opening big enough for you to escape."
"Then what about you?!"
Even when faced with the imminent threat of death the boy still worried, Bulat's lips curved faintly, a flicker of warmth piercing through the weight pressing on his chest. It being not even that long ago since he joined them, showing potential at first which both him and the others felt like could suit Night Raid's goals, even with a few days of training he absorbed a lot of knowledge like a sponge. Had he been granted more time… no, this was not the moment to think like that.
Whatever the case, Bulat saw himself as almost his mentor and like any good teacher, he couldn't allow the boy to fall here.
"I'll manage," he said, voice calm, resolute. "Who do you think you're talking to? It will take more than just a few bits of frozen water to take me down."
Even though he knew how this battle might end, he wore that confidence like armor—because if the boy sensed even a crack of doubt, everything would collapse.
Not today.
He'd hold the line—because someone had to.
"You're late, Wave."
Esdeath's voice echoed from the opposite side of the field, calm, composed, and yet laced with lethal expectation. So that was the name of the armored one… Wave. It didn't spark any memory, which meant this was likely someone new, or perhaps a soldier who had only recently become compatible with a Teigu. Unlike the other members of the Jaegers and Wild Hunt who were quite infamous in their own way, this person turned out to be different.
"S-Sorry!" came the muffled voice from within the imposing armor, laced with slight embarrassment. Physically trying to scratch the back of his head only to realize he was wearing a helmet. "Um, I just wasn't expecting Incursio to be here too, and he was, I'll do better next time!"
Wave bowed toward Esdeath quickly before facing forward again, his stance shifting, preparing to engage. 'No weapons? Strange, best to not rule it out yet. He can bring it out in the middle of combat for all I know, it's suppose to be an upgraded version so having a weapon like me makes sense.'
Even from a distance, he could almost feel a reaction—an unnatural tension between the two armors, as if the beasts sealed within Incursio was stirring at the sight of one another. A trick of the mind, no doubt. A stress-induced illusion… but an eerie one nonetheless.
"Another one!"
Following Tatsumi's shout, the clang of metal rang out sharp and fast, forcing him back into motion. His spear swung up in sync with Tatsumi, who had raised his sword to intercept an ambush that came from the side. A katana gleamed in the dark—mere inches from Tatsumi's head before it was deflected.
"A-Akame?!" the boy gasped.
"That's not her!" he snapped, eyes narrowing as he got a better look. A black uniform with gloved hands, eyes that mirrored his friend's but much more lifeless and filled with rage… possessing a Teigu of which he already knew the abilities and thus kept his eyes open to any other sneak attacks. 'So this is the person Akame wants to kill, good thing she did not come or else this mission would have been a bigger mess.'
He had his own thoughts on the matter, sisters trying to kill one another did not particularly sit right with him. But this was Akame's decision and he doubted words could sway her regardless.
A heavy push knocked the girl backward, his foot slamming into the ground and sending a thick cloud of dust erupting into the air. Neunote twirled sharply in a practiced arc, shattering several ice shards that whistled toward them without warning.
Most were destroyed in the flurry, though a few slipped past. They shattered harmlessly against his armor, yet he still felt a bit of a sting.
"Hn—!"
Bulat's instincts flared again, jerking his head back just in time, a silver blur slicing through the space he'd just vacated. A rapier gleamed against the swirling dust, missing only by a breath. Incursio's red eyes met ice-blue as their gazes locked—her eyes cold and unreadable, his hidden behind the crimson glow of his visor. 'Fast, more so than Akame… '
They were less than a meter apart now.
"Hah!"
With practiced ease, Neunote twirled again in his hand before slamming into the ground. The force of the strike sent a shockwave tearing through the stone beneath them, creating a crater between him and the General, forcing her to retreat as debris and fractured rock shot upward.
His breathing steadied as he stepped back, resetting his stance.
"I'll give you a chance to live a bit longer," she offered once more, dusting off her clothes without any injuries in sight. "If you answer my question. Night Raid already has been given the orders to kill on sight, but that can be changed with a bit of negotiation if you cooperate. Holder of the Incursio armor, former subordinate to General Liver, your past deeds can and will be taken into account despite your treacherous actions."
Giving him a way out? Surprising considering her past history with any enemies of the empire, he wondered what changed. Worst of all, he genuinely believed her words, for not even Honest would have the audacity to ignore her words so easily.
"Sorry, lady, but my friend's a bit busy on another mission with Leone. He doesn't have time to always look after you," he said mockingly, almost regretting his actions when the next thing he saw was her figure move and appearing in front of him. Her hands blurred at nearly the same speed as his, each clash sending sparks flying through the air until a sharp crack rang out. His grin widened when he saw the rapier in her hand shatter from the pressure with his next attack. "Worry about yourself instead!"
In that brief window of vulnerability, his fist shot forward and slammed into her gut with full force, every ounce of his strength behind it. He gritted his teeth, hoping it would be enough to put her down. Her body slid back, heels scraping deep into the dirt before she summoned another sword and stabbed it into the ground, halting her momentum. A flicker of surprise passed through her eyes as both of them glanced down.
There, just beneath where he had struck, a thin layer of ice covered her torso—cracked but still intact.
"Damn it, so that's what he meant about the ice armor…"
When Emiya and the others returned from their last mission, the white-haired man had given them a briefing—mentioning Esdeath and the peculiar defenses she possessed. He remembered specifically being told about an armor of ice layered over her body, though back then he hadn't given it much thought. Having assumed no simple sheet of ice could block a full-powered blow from his spear which could even pierce the hide and shatter scales of a high ranked Danger Beast. But this… this was just ridiculous, an attack that should've shattered boulders had only left spiderweb cracks across the frosted shell.
"Can that even be called ice at this point? Not even blue ice is that hard." he muttered, displeased with his odds. "Let's fall back! You handle any soldiers or enemies that show up ahead—I'll keep these ones at bay!" he shouted.
"Got it, Aniki!" Tatsumi replied, giving a firm nod.
More projectiles were launched at him, but this time, he paid closer attention to their angles and intercepted them before any could break past his defenses. Neunote whipped through the air, generating enough force to create a small dust devil, the swirling debris forming another obscuring wall to break line of sight. Several of Esdeath's shots missed as a result, while others among her team closed in for direct attacks.
"No you don't!"
He crossed both arms just in time to block a crushing kick from Wave. The impact was brutal, nearly forcing his knees to buckle, the ground beneath him spiderwebbing with fractures. The sheer pressure made it clear—taking too many hits like that would break through eventually.
"Don't think you'll be able to escape without atoning for all your sins, Night Raid!" Wave shouted from behind the mask, his voice spreading across the area. "Justice will be served today for all the people you've killed!"
"That's rich coming from you! I don't know who you think you're fighting for, but don't forget who you're serving in the first place!"
Another powerful clash between the two sent Bulat sliding several feet back. If Tatsumi had taken a hit like that, it would've snapped his body in two. The sheer force behind the exchange only deepened the man's resolve—he had to keep everyone at bay no matter what.
"Don't talk to me about justice after everything that's happened in this Empire! I don't know who you are, but surely you can't be blind to everything that has happened around you, boy."
Wave flipped through the air and landed cleanly a short distance away, settling into a ready stance. 'That form… definitely trained by the army, but the stance is a bit different from what I learned, marine maybe?' Bulat mirrored him, grip tightening around his spear.
"I know the Empire isn't perfect. It has its flaws—but the way Night Raid is handling things isn't right!" Wave shot back. "You can't fix everything just by murdering people. All it does is keep the cycle going!"
Wave surged forward again, his fists and legs moving in a blur. Bulat, unwilling to risk his limbs and worsen any injuries, used Neunote defensively—parrying strikes and redirecting blows while looking for chances to counter.
"I'm sorry, young man," Bulat said through gritted teeth, keeping his voice steady despite the onslaught, "but the Empire passed the point of redemption a long time ago. I want peace as much as you do, but corruption runs far deeper than you realize. Without extreme measures, peace is nothing but a fantasy. I wish we were in a better situation for me to show you that but you'll need to take my word for it."
"You killed my friend's mentor and made her cry! All because you were paid a few bags of coins!"
Wave's strikes began slipping through, an elbow to the ribs, a punch to the gut, a knee to the forearm. The pain piled up, and even Incursio's armor began to show thin fractures from the relentless pressure. His bones ached, but Bulat remained focused, relying not on brute force but on refined technique to stay in the fight.
"We don't target random people for no reason just for money. Whoever this person was, I can tell you had innocent blood on his hands. I don't know who you really are, but I can tell you've got a good heart," Bulat said as he repositioned, taking a moment to grab his breath. "So I hope one day you open your eyes and see the rot that's consumed this Empire—and that peaceful methods alone won't change anything!"
With a deep breath, he drove the spear's head into the ground, letting the impact propel him upward. Twisting midair, he yanked his weapon free and spun it around, building momentum before bringing it down in a heavy arc.
"Euurrgh—!"
Wave caught the blow just in time, bracing under the force, but Bulat gritted his teeth and forced more strength into the weapon until the spear itself began to bend ever so slightly. The strain was immense, and Wave was pushed back—inch by inch—until Bulat landed and immediately followed through.
He pivoted low, then surged upward.
"So grit your teeth… 'cause this is gonna hurt!"
By letting go of Neunote, his fist slammed into the underside of Wave's chin with a brutal uppercut.
Following the exact same military combat techniques they'd drilled countless times before, Bulat repeated each strike with precision—every blow aimed at vital points. The armored glove of Incursio cracked further with each impact, shards of blood-stained metal scattering with every hit. But Bulat didn't care. He kept going. Another uppercut. A rapid volley of punches to the face, ribs, waist, and chest. A spinning knee slammed into the side of Wave's face, and without losing momentum, Bulat seized the boy's leg and hurled him across the field like a ragdoll.
His target? Kurome, who had tried to sneak up during the chaos. Now she was forced to abandon her stealth and catch Wave mid-flight, barely managing to react in time as the weight of his armored body crashed into her.
"Hah… hah… hah…" Bulat breathed, every inhale scraping against his lungs like fire. Rough, but it bought them time. He doubted Wave would stay down for long—Grand Chariot had shown no visible cracks even after everything he'd thrown at it.
"Coast is clear!" Tatsumi's voice called out, strained and hoarse. Bulat turned toward him, seeing the younger fighter soaked in blood and sweat, sword dripping with the aftermath of the skirmish against multiple soldiers and emerging victorious. "More are coming! We need to escape now!"
Despite everything, a small grin tugged at his lips behind the mask.
"I'm impressed." Esdeath spoke calmly, the sound of her clapping cutting through the air, slow and deliberate.
His gaze snapped forward.
The entire time, she hadn't moved from where she stood after their prior brief confrontation, her posture relaxed, hands coming together in measured applause. That same faint smile lingered on her lips, unreadable as ever.
"Amazing," she said, clapping slowly. "I must give props to Najenda for having such capable allies on her side. You would've made a fine addition to the Jaegers, or even the beast had you not sided with them. Kurome, Wave, that's enough for now "
"Damn it…" Bulat clenched his jaw. In his current condition, he had even less of a chance than before. The woman looked completely untouched, even though that earlier punch had barely fazed her, and it wasn't likely to do any more damage now.
"Thanks for the compliment," he replied with a sharp grin hidden under the helm. "But even if I hadn't joined Night Raid or the Revolutionary Army… your methods aren't really my style. There is a reason why I stopped working for the Empire in the first place."
"Oh? That is a shame indeed," she said, unfazed. "Like I said before, I understand you were once a subordinate of General Liver. A wonderful man. Loyal. A true warrior according to him showing plenty of potential, one that I can see was not a lie. You would've grown tremendously by his side. He would have wished nothing better for you."
"Unfortunately… that's not the General Liver I knew," Bulat answered, voice laced with pain and acceptance. "I don't know what spell or trick you used to gain his loyalty like that—but it won't work on me. I won't betray my friends."
"I see," she said quietly. The pleasantries drained from her tone, her smile vanishing. Her gaze locked onto his, the air around her growing colder with the shift in mood.
"Then so be it. I gave you your first chance to answer my question… and then I gave you a second one and finally this. You rejected all three opportunities."
Her heels took one step forward.
"Unfortunately for you—there will not be a forth time."
The air shifted—and in that instant, a wave of goosebumps raced across his skin.
Bulat leapt into the air, instincts flaring just in time as the ground beneath him turned stark white. A split second later, massive spikes of ice erupted skyward, jagged and glinting, nearly impaling him mid-air.
"You'll have to do better tha—!?"
His words froze in his throat.
A sharp, burning sensation stabbed straight through his side, slicing past even Incurseo's enhanced defenses. The pain lanced deep into the bone. His head whipped around, eyes wide in disbelief.
Esdeath stood above him.
Somehow, impossibly, her heel had connected cleanly with his back mid-air, and she now pressed it down, an amused smile on her face. "You should've paid more attention, your first mistake was to take your eye off me for even a second." she whispered softly, almost mockingly.
His eyes darted toward the person he had been speaking to moments ago—only to watch, stunned, as that figure shimmered and dissolved into a statue of solid ice.
"Damn it…!" he hissed. "Oof—!"
Bulat's body slammed into the ground like a meteor, carving a deeper crater than before. The impact sent fractures splintering out in all directions, spider-webbing across the surface as the weight of his armored form smashed down. One of his helmet's eye visors cracked with a sharp shatter, and a trickle of warmth slid down his face behind the mask.
The scent hit him first—copper and iron. Blood.
Esdeath sighed, disappointment flashing across her eyes. The only genuine he saw on her face, even the smile from before, felt entirely fake as if to hide something much colder. "If you won't answer my question," her voice rang out calmly above him, "though I already suspect the truth… then I'll simply give him a reason to be here. As insurance."
A blade hovered just inches from his helmet, the tip made of glistening ice. Dozens more floated above him in the sky with several dozens of great swords bigger than himself hovering above those. When faced against such a sight, the man couldn't help but grit his teeth, not yet… he could still keep going.
"That Teigu of yours is quite impressive." She whispered, saying nothing else afterwards before dropping everything upon him. In a strange way, everything seemed to slow down in his eyes, brief images and instances from his past replaying right before his eyes. A childhood that was filled with challenges just like many others in the capital, where he strived to become someone… to make a name for himself and not end up rotting in the corner of the street. Recalling the time he spent as a student under Gensei, his time serving as a subordinate to General Liver and finally the Night Raid.
Hundred Man-Slayer Bulat, in a way, he had achieved his initial goal and made something of himself that his past self dreamed of for years.
Would he see the friends He had lost a long these years once more? Doubtful, for even if he fought for the Empire and for the well-being of its people, his hands were still staying with the blood of countless people, both the innocent and the guilty.
"Ah, I can't."
His voice was immediately drowned by the sound of pure carnage and destruction as the swords crashed upon him, with one last iceberg being dropped on him and destroying an entire chunk of the old manor itself.
.
.
.
Another one fell.
That's how to admit, she saw potential in this person but his loyalty remained unshaken even till the end. Najenda had a good eye for people, she always had that talent even back in the day when they were still studying in the academy. It was a strength she acknowledged, something that may seem trivial to the likes of honest and other officials but if used properly could prove to be just as dangerous as any other Teigu in the Empire.
The Jaegers, while formidable as a unit, were never truly that loyal in the first place, not entirely, at least. That much she understood all too well. The only ones she could truly call loyal were the Beasts, and even then, she had only two under her command for the time being. The soldiers in her ranks followed her out of fear, respect, or some mix of both—but that wasn't loyalty. Not the kind she valued.
"Damn you!" someone shouted.
Another one remained, one who dared attack her, face twisted in grief, rage clear in his voice. A new recruit from Night Raid. A former soldier. A boy who had once worked alongside one of the Jaegers.
"You can handle him. Just like I promised," she said quietly, making no move to stop the incoming strike.
Instead, another stepped in.
A blur from the shadows crashed into the boy's path, intercepting the blade with a heavy mace. She hadn't been idle—just waiting.
"Thank you, General. Now I will correct my mistakes," Seryu said evenly, though Esdeath heard the suppressed fury woven into her voice. "I will make these shitty criminals pay for what they've done! For tricking me and the entire Empire with their lies and delivering their long awaited justice!"
Tatsumi, stumbled back in disbelief at the familiar face. "Sergeant Seryu…" His voice barely rose above a whisper, but the shock vanished almost instantly, drowned out by fury. "Get out of my way!"
"No. Koro. Number Five."
He swung at her again, putting every ounce of strength behind his sword. But Seryu didn't budge. At her side, the small creature at her feet, Koro, let out a growl before suddenly doubling, then tripling in size. In moments, the beast towered over them both, jaws wide as it opened its mouth. From within, she reached inside and drew a giant saliva covered sword.
A handy Teigu, Esdeath mused, though a bit sloppy. Over the last few days training the girl, she had come to understand the weapon's true nature. As long as Seryu had the will, her Teigu would continue to grow stronger alongside her the more she learned to properly fight side by side it. And with Stylish's recent upgrades, the odds were no longer in the boy's favor.
"I made a mistake before," Seryu said, voice low, her grip tightening on the hilt. "A mistake that cost me Captain Ogre. I trusted you, Tatsumi. I was blind to the signs."
She brought the blade crashing down. He barely managed to roll aside, the weapon striking the ground where he'd stood a moment before. He fell back, landing hard on the dirt.
"It's criminals like you that need to be gutted and paraded through the streets," she snarled. "Examples must be made of everyone who dares to break the law! You took my trust—and twisted it. You, and that Archer, will pay for your crimes against the Empire! By my hand."
With nothing to shield him, the blade came down fast—too fast for him to dodge. Esdeath waited, half-expecting to see a splatter of crimson erupt beneath the strike, when something sudden and sharp cut through the air beside her.
"C-Catch…!"
To her astonishment, a small blue object soared through the chaos and landed squarely in the boy's hand. Her eyes widened the instant she recognized that annoying Teigu, Shambhala. The very moment it activated, glowing rings of light pulsed around him, and in the blink of an eye, he vanished. The sword met empty ground a heartbeat later, cutting through stone instead of flesh.
Another sound snapped her attention away—a pained cry.
Seryu stumbled, blood trailing from her arm as this time one of her own ice swords was thrown and pierced straight through the limb that had been holding her blade. It had skewed the strike, saving the boy by a mere second.
Esdeath turned back toward the icy rubble, eyes narrowing as movement stirred. From behind the fractured remains of her frozen decoy and all of the different sized weapons she dropped earlier, a bloodied figure rose—barely standing, with long strands of hair clinging to his face, his armor gone. He used his sword to support himself, breath ragged and shallow.
"You survived that… I underestimated you."He didn't reply. Just glared. Even in this state, his eyes held the same quiet defiance. "You can't fight me like that, I doubt you'll survive even if left alone."
His answer came not with words, but with action. He slammed the blade into the earth beneath him. "Aaaaaah! INCURSIO!"
"—!"
A roar split the air.
Wind burst outward from him, kicking up dust and shards of ice. Esdeath's eyes widened as she covered her face, the world around them warped, and above him, hovering like a summoned god, a new monstrous form emerged. A spectral figure of the armor itself, massive and looming with chains flying across the sky, its hands lowered toward the wounded warrior. Behind its visor, Esdeath saw it: not just power, but fury. Madness belonging to that of a beast that refused to die.
"General!" Wave shouted, to which she raised her hand to see where this was going.
Light flared, bright, wild, overwhelming. Armor reformed around him, but not like before. No longer was it the same shell, this one pulsed with reddish light, its design bulkier, more jagged, plated in golden strands that wrapped tightly around his limbs.
"The flesh of the Tyrant…" Esdeath muttered, lips curling into something like amusement. "A demonic beast with a life force greater than any yet discovered. Even sealed within an Imperial Arm, it still lives. I see now—it's not the armor that's evolving… You're abandoning your human body, letting it take you over? Or are you sacrificing your sanity?"
She grinned, genuinely, for once.
"To choose power over flesh and become a slave to your Teigu, how disappointing."
"Wave!" Kurome's voice rang out beside her, urgency in her tone.The deep blue-haired man surged forward, leaping high into the air, Grand Chariot glowing with a deep, oppressive purple.
"Grand Fall!"
Perhaps he thought he could end it before the transformation finished. But Esdeath already knew, he was too late.
"Aaaaargh!"
The raw, furious scream of a man being overtaken by the Danger Beast tore through the battlefield. With one vicious swipe of his spear, a vortex of wind exploded outward, slamming into Wave and sending him flying. The moment the gust settled, Bulat vanished—only to reappear directly in front of her. His spear was already pressed against her midsection, and with a sharp crack, it pierced through the ice armor shielding her stomach.
"Guh!"
The grunt of pain escaped her lips as her body was violently launched backward, slammed into what was left of several walls, and then crashed through a boulder that shattered on impact.
"Cough… cough…"
She spat up thick globs of blood, her vision momentarily swimming. The spear hadn't impaled her entirely—just the tip had broken skin—but the force of the blow had crushed something vital. Her ribs ached, and something inside her pulsed with pain.
Still, even through all that, she grinned.
"Sorry, General," Bulat rasped. His voice was hoarse, strained from the weight of power overtaking him. "But I couldn't let your subordinate kill my protégé."
"Sacrificing yourself for someone like him, you have been fooled just like Emiya."
From behind the helm, she imagined him grinning. "We'll see."
In the next breath, her body was coated in glacial armor. Blades of ice formed around her and shot through the air like javelins. But Bulat was faster now—far faster. His spear shattered every projectile mid-air, not a single shard making it past his guard.
"How long can you fight like this," she muttered, "before the armor consumes you?"
"That's none of your damn business!" he roared.
He lunged forward again, the tip of Neunote flashing with every thrust. Esdeath dodged and deflected, layers of her ice armor cracking under the relentless storm. With twin blades created out of ice, she met him head-on, their weapons clashing in a brilliant display of strength and precision.
Each time one of her swords broke, a new one took its place. Slowly but surely, she began turning the tide, their once one-sided clash shifting into a ferocious stalemate.
"As expected of a student of Gensei," she breathed, parrying a blow. "But don't think brute force alone will be enough."
With a snap of her fingers, a massive block of ice, nearly the size of a small house, fell from above, crashing onto Bulat with a deafening crack. He was stunned, his momentum briefly halted. Esdeath seized the chance and delivered a brutal kick with her heel, launching him back through the air. He crashed deep into the ruins, bringing down more rubble with him.
"Your form is still not stable or rather incomplete, shame. Ice Cavalry," she whispered.
Soldiers formed of ice sprang into existence around her—dozens, till they reached a hundred. Without hesitation, all charged toward the cratered ruins. Bulat emerged moments later, trying to force his way toward her, but the sheer numbers overwhelmed him. One by one, he struck them down, his spear dancing like lightning. Each shattered construct returned its energy to her body, and the wound at her stomach began to seal by a thin layer of frost to stop the bleeding.
From a hundred icy warriors to only half remaining, he kept going.
His stamina, however, was waning. She could see it in the way his footwork faltered, in the slight delay between his strikes. Others noticed too.
"Eurgh!"
Still surrounded by her constructs, Bulat failed to notice the shadow creeping up behind him—until a blade pierced straight through his back, emerging from his lower stomach and managing to pierce the armor itself.
Kurome emerged, face twisted with a cruel smile, her katana dripping with his blood.
"You'll make a fine puppet."
The others didn't sit back and watch.
A storm of missiles rained down as Seryu, having retrieved a rocket launcher from Koro, let loose with a barrage of explosives. Not long after, Wave came crashing in from above with another Grand Fall, slamming straight into Bulat's chest. The impact shattered the remainder of his reinforced armor, sending fragments scattering across the battlefield.
"Feeling alright, General?" Dorothea called as she rushed to Esdeath's side, a small medical kit in her hand. "I noticed one of them managed to get away."
"You were hoping he'd stay?" Esdeath asked with a touch of genuine curiosity.
The little blonde hesitated, shifting her weight uncertainty before giving a slow nod. "I thought he was kinda cute…"
The woman hummed at the thought. Though deciding that she was not about to comment on that bit. Admittedly, the boy had a puppy-like charm that some would find endearing. "Unfortunately for you, I've already promised Seryu she can deal with him herself. You'll have to negotiate with her if you want something else."
Dorothea's face scrunched up instantly. "Nope! I'm good. I'd rather not go begging for trouble with the crazy girl—I-I mean my comrade!"
"It's fine." Esdeath waved off the apology. "I'll let that one slip. But if I catch you showing excessive hostility or trying to sway her from her duties in any way…" she leaned in with a smile that could chill bone, "I'll make another example out of you. Understood?"
The color drained from Dorothea's face. She trembled and nodded fervently. "Yes, yes! I won't cause any trouble!"
With that settled, Esdeath continued her approach to the large crater in the ground. Bulat lay at the center of it, what little remained of his armor flickering before vanishing entirely, reverting into a chained short sword wrapped around his arm. His energy was gone—he barely had the strength to lift the weapon, but even so, he pointed it at her defiantly.
"A shame to lose such a rare gem," she muttered.
She gave him no further opportunity. In a blink, she closed the distance, summoning an ice saber and swinging it cleanly through his arm. The blade sliced through flesh with precision, severing the limb holding the weapon. Blood spattered across the stone as he let out a deep, guttural groan and staggered backward, clutching his stump.
"Any last words?" she asked coldly, raising her rapier to deliver the finishing blow. His life was slipping fast, and the blood loss would kill him soon regardless—but for a warrior like him, she would grant the dignity of a swift death by her blade.
Bulat gave a faint, bitter smirk. His eyes, though glazed with exhaustion, held no fear.
"I've already done my part… Just make it quick," he rasped, barely audible.
"Very well."
She lowered her rapier to his chest, aiming for the heart, only for a sudden flash of light to burst above and blind her. A blur came down from the sky, and a foot smashed into her face, knocking Esdeath backward. In that brief instant, from the corner of her eye, she manage to catch a glimpse of the individual
The boy who previously escaped.
Smiling from ear to ear, "Finally got you!"
He landed beside the dying man and, without hesitation, grabbed him. In the same instant, both vanished, teleporting away from the battlefield.
"..."
"..."
Silence fell like a blanket.
Everyone stood frozen, stunned by the unexpected turn. Seryu dropped to her knees, fists trembling as she slammed one hand against the ground in frustration. Koro whined softly beside her, trying to comfort her.
"That Teigu…" Wave muttered, dismissing his armor as he walked over to check on Kurome, "That's going to be a serious problem for us, isn't it?"
"But of course, there is a reason why our former leader liked it so much." Dorothea answered, standing near Wave only for the latter to take a step away. "It's not a combat focused one but extremely versatile. With enough stamina and marks, you can practically be anywhere and everywhere at the same time without getting hit."
Esdeath nodded slowly, her gaze still fixed on the spot where the boy had disappeared, her lips twitching upwards before she let out a low chuckle. "That puppy's got more bite than I thought."
Her eyes drifted downward—and there it was: the severed limb still tightly gripping the chained sword. A glint of interest passed through her eyes as she bent down and took the weapon, inspecting it closely while letting out a thoughtful hum.
"Well… it didn't go quite how I wanted," she mused, securing the weapon to her belt, "but this wasn't a complete loss."
Without another word, she stood and gestured to the others.
"Gather up. We're leaving. Have Stylish and his people come here to clean up the remains. I want every scrap of information about how they got here. I doubt it was just Shambhala alone."
"Yes, General!"
She did not get to kill the target herself.
But she had no doubt this outcome would provoke and possibly infuriate Emiya to some degree.
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The next 5 chapters of Snafu, and my other Fate fics (Fate Coiling Sword with 3 chapters, A Fake Familiar Reborn with 3 chapters, Steel Eyed Faker soon to be 3 chapters, Hound having 3 and To love a sword having 4 chapters) are already available on my P@treon. With 4 more Broly chapters at /NimtheWriter. Also, I post commissioned arts on each story, already posted a few on an Archer's Promise, Broly and Snafu.