Chapter XLV: The Plains Dyed Red

"Of all the luck," Emiya said ruefully. "The Roman emperor who drew King Arthur himself to a stalemate."

Mash gasped. "Lucius Tiberius Caesar!"

The name…vaguely rang a bell. Most of the Arthurian lessons I'd gotten as part of my training to be a Master of Chaldea had tended to focus specifically on the Knights of the Round Table and the events in Britain itself. At some point, near the end of his reign and shortly before Mordred's rebellion, King Arthur and his most loyal knights had gone to the continent and fought the Roman Empire — or what was left of it — and eventually had to return home mostly empty-handed.

Then, this guy, he was the Roman emperor of that time? The fact that he'd drawn with King Arthur said something, but… Damn it, there just hadn't been enough focus on him in the lessons to say what he could do with any certainty.

Emiya held out his hands.

"Trace, on!"

A familiar pair of twin swords formed in his grasp, and he braced himself, leaning forward as he bent his knees.

"Mash, guard the Masters!" he commanded her.

"R-right!"

"Take one more step and I'll kick your ass myself!" Aífe barked, and Emiya stumbled on his first step, dumbfounded, as she glared at him out of the corner of one amethyst eye. "No one asked you to stick your nose into things!"

"You…can't tell me you're still going to fight him alone!" Emiya sputtered. "That's suicide!"

"Even if it were," she replied resolutely, "a one on one battle to the death… That's exactly the kind of battle I live for!"

"I agree," Tiberius said, still grinning a bloodthirsty grin. "A fight between two warriors is sacred! You and I, one on one, that's just the way it should be! But your friend there is also right. If you face me by yourself, you're definitely going to die!"

Aífe sneered. "I don't remember asking you…for your opinion!"

She let herself fall, and Tiberius jerked forward under the sudden lack of resistance, and then she swung her legs up, curled them towards her stomach, and planted them in his chest with a sound not unlike the landing of an artillery barrage. Tiberius was launched upwards and away, and branches cracked as he disappeared into the forest at the opposite end of the clearing.

Aífe used her momentum and rolled over her shoulder and to her feet, and as Tiberius came charging out of the forest, cackling like a madman, she charged to meet him. She stepped into his guard as he brought his sword down, and she blocked it by bracing her forearm up under his wrist, then threw her back against his chest, took firm hold of his arm, and pulled him up, over her shoulder, and slammed him into the ground.

"Shouldn't we help her?" Mash asked quietly, gripping tightly to her shield. "That's Lucius Tiberius."

Aífe jumped straight up, flipping midair, and brought her heel down on Tiberius, aiming for his head — but he rolled out of the way, and she struck the ground with such force that it felt like the whole planet rumbled beneath our feet as the earth cratered under her foot.

"I'm…not sure she needs help," Ritsuka replied. "She looks like she's got it handled all on her own."

"Where was she back when we landed in Orléans?" Rika complained.

Tiberius rushed her, leading with his sword, and she leaned to the side, guiding his wrist with one hand, and with the other, she lashed out with a simple punch. A meaty thwack cracked the air as Tiberius caught it with his free hand, and he reared back long and far enough to slam his forehead into hers.

Aífe reeled and stumbled back a step, a surprised grunt torn from her lips, and then she braced herself and slammed her head just as hard into his nose. Blood went flying, spurting from his nostrils and all over her hair, but Tiberius was only more delighted to have been injured, and he leered down at her, towering over her as he did, grinning that mad grin as he cackled.

"Neither of them has used their Noble Phantasms yet, though," I pointed out, "and Aífe's isn't working right at the moment."

Because of whatever "Constantine" was doing. It must have been his Noble Phantasm that was weakening Aífe and Emiya — and interfering with my bugs, somehow — and if Caesar's comment was to be believed, it was also the reason Aífe hadn't killed him with hers.

If Tiberius pulled his out, then to save Aífe, we might have to interfere, no matter what.

"Emiya…"

The words were on the tip of my tongue. I was ready to give the command, to tell him to jump in, regardless of what any of the other Servants thought.

But I hesitated, because as much as she might hate the comparison, Aífe was just like Cúchulainn. They both had the same sort of pride as warriors, one that they didn't suffer being trampled upon, and because we insisted on interfering back in Fuyuki, Cúchulainn had used a curse to ensure we couldn't. Whether he won that battle or not wasn't important to the fact that he'd used the curse in the first place.

If we interfered now, Emiya could definitely turn the tide of the battle in Aífe's favor, but it might cost us her trust — the trust of a powerful combatant with a chariot that could ferry us safely across the whole of the continent. Especially since she didn't seem on the backfoot, if Emiya jumped in now, it would almost certainly alienate her.

It went against my first instinct. Even so, I had to force myself to recognize that the best course of action here was to stand back and watch, at least for now.

Arash, I sent to my Servant in the hills, don't interfere unless she looks like she's about to lose.

There was a pause, and then his reply: Roger that, Master.

"If he pulls out an Anti-Army Noble Phantasm, defend her," I ordered Emiya. "But until then, we'll let her do this her way."

To break the stalemate, Aífe stepped in, hooked her leg behind Tiberius', and pulled him off balance far enough that she could safely let go of his sword arm to land another thunderous blow against his armored torso. The metal groaned and cracked, but didn't break, and Tiberius was sent backwards almost ten feet. He turned his uncontrolled tumble into a roll and was back on his feet almost instantly.

Aífe didn't wait. She raced off to Caesar, who squawked as she got near, and she took hold of the red spear that was still lodged in his armor. With a brutal twist and a yank, she pulled it free, and several hunks of golden armor came with it, clattering to the ground as the red thorns sprouting from the head retracted back into the blade.

"Leaving it to the last possible second… You're willing to risk things that far, are you? I'm surprised," said Emiya. "I would've thought that you would insist on winning, even at the cost of Aífe's pride."

"I do," I answered. "But if there's one thing I learned about leadership, it's how to deal with strong personalities that don't normally give ground."

That was the only reason I'd had Lung's respect, at the end of it, however grudging it might have been. If I had shown him weakness when he cauterized my ruined arm, if I had begged and pleaded or tried to appeal to his nonexistent human decency, he might just have left me to die or killed me himself.

The difference here was that I didn't have Aífe's leverage point yet. Lung was a petty tyrant, a bully; standing up to him was enough to earn his respect. Aífe was also a tyrant, but of the charismatic type, and I just didn't have a good enough handle on her personality to use it to my advantage. Until I did, I had no good way of convincing a woman as strong and prideful as her to follow my orders. It would not be anywhere near as easy as getting her to carve more runestones had been.

Aífe kicked off the ground, throwing up chunks of dirt as she seemed almost to teleport across the clearing. Her spear met Tiberius' sword with an echoing, metallic ring, and then again, as with Caesar, their bodies blurred and faded as they exchanged dozens of blows the space of seconds. They swiped at each other, parried, swiped again, blocked, over and over again with such speed that I had no hope of keeping up.

Unlike with Caesar, they moved around, ping-ponging across the ground as streaks of silver and maroon. The trees around us shook with the force of their blows, and the air cracked with each exchange with the steady staccato of a machine gun.

I could believe that Tiberius had fought King Arthur to a draw, watching them. Not only did they have the same sort of strength I had seen from Arthur's corrupted form in Fuyuki, but they were just as lightning fast, leaving behind only flashes — snapshots of motion — to the normal human eye.

It was like watching a flip book, if half of the pages had been torn out.

The flurry of exchanges lasted almost five minutes as they bounced across the clearing with no clear victor in sight and no one with an obvious upper hand. When they separated, flying apart until there was almost twenty feet between them, Tiberius had clearly come off worse from the fight, although his mad grin didn't show it. Deep grooves had been carved into the metal of his armor where Gáe Bolg had cut into it, and blood still flowed freely from his twisted, broken nose and a couple of shallow slices along his cheeks where he had narrowly missed having something important gouged out. The armor on one of his forearms was even missing, and when that had happened, I had no idea.

As though none of it mattered, he reached up with one hand, snapped his nose back into place with a sickening crack, and snorted out a glob of blood from one of his nostrils.

Aífe had not escaped unscathed, not by the cut on her cheek that bled sluggishly or the neat splits in her clothes where Tiberius had come closer than any of us would have liked to dealing a serious wound, but she was by far better off than him. The rest of the blood on her clothing was very obviously not hers.

"Heheh," Tiberius chuckled. "This is fun. This is so much fun! You're the strongest fighter I've met since I faced down that twerp, Arthur!"

"Twerp?" Ritsuka choked out. "Did he just call Saber Alter a twerp?"

"I still have nightmares about that fight!" Rika agreed.

I could see why — she didn't have the personal menace Alexandria had, but that corrupted King Arthur had been a force of terrifying speed and strength, capable of casually blowing us away with a single swing of her sword. She was a force of nature, inevitable and unstoppable, and it was only Mash's shield that had protected us from being utterly destroyed.

And this smug prick was calling a hero that powerful a twerp?

"Tiberius," Mash murmured, brow furrowing as her fingers clenched tight around her shield.

Even Emiya looked disturbed. Scowling, as though he himself had been personally insulted.

Aífe's trademark smile broke out on her face. "You're not so terrible yourself. I would gladly have fought you to the death, had you been around during my era."

"But." Tiberius took hold of his sword with both hands, squaring his shoulders and bending his knees. "You're too strong. Even weakened by Constantine's Noble Phantasm, the best I can hope for in a contest of raw strength and skill is a draw. As much fun as all this is, if we keep going, I'm just going to keep risking a pointless, meaningless death. The only area I know I outclass you…"

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The floral pattern along the flat of his sword's blade slowly lit up, red light rising along it from the base to the tip. The edge, already a deep magenta, began to glow a deep, ominous crimson, like a bloody mist was seeping out of it.

"…is my Noble Phantasm."

He lifted his sword above his head. The magical energy flowing out of him and into his blade increased, and then increased again, surging.

Shit!

"Emiya!" I shouted.

"Mash!" the twins cried.

Emiya threw up one of his hands.

"I am the bone of my sword!"

Blooming

"Florent —"

Mash leapt in front of us, then hefted her shield and slammed the bottom spoke down. "Lord —"

Aífe dropped to her knees, pressing one palm against the ground. "Ochd —"

Tiberius swung.

Blood-stained Flower

"Cruentus!"

"Chaldeas!"

"Rho Aias!"

"Deug Odin!"

Red light raced towards Aífe — towards us, who stood behind her.

A towering rampart of blue light etched itself into existence in front of Mash, protecting us from the blast.

A seven-petaled flower bloomed to life in front of Aífe, absorbing Tiberius' attack even as several of the petals were torn apart like tissue paper.

And around the clearing, several runes, unseen before, burned up as Aífe drew on us Masters to power them — all located in spots where she and Tiberius had clashed, and where she must have carved them as she fought.

A flash of light detonated. Ochd Deug Odin ripped through Tiberius' Noble Phantasm, dispelling the beam of bloody light and going on to strike the owner. The twins gasped, and I had to close my eyes against the intensity of it, and even still, the bright light seared itself onto the backs of my eyelids like a branding iron.

In the trees and around us, thousands of bugs suddenly died as the density of magical energy overloaded them in an instant.

There was a rush of air as the attacks passed and dissipated, the great whump of heat rising as cool air rushed to fill its place. The tug pulling on me from the inside eased up and returned to the almost unnoticeable trickle it had been before, and finally, the light died down as the whole clearing descended into silence.

Several seconds passed before I could squint my eyes back open, and Emiya panted as the seven-petaled flower — reduced to a meager three by Florent Cruentus — vanished into nothingness. After another moment, the rampart of Lord Chaldeas disappeared, too, apparently unneeded.

Beyond it, Aífe climbed to her feet, utterly unscathed, and across the clearing from her, Tiberius lay on the ground, broken and defeated. His armor had been ripped and destroyed, his red cloak in tatters, and the ground around him was wet with blood.

He was still, somehow, alive.

"No way," Rika breathed. "Does this guy have extra lives or something?"

"Rika," I ordered her quietly, "heal Emiya."

She startled, and then looked over at Emiya and gasped. "Emiya! Oh my god, what happened?"

He was little better off than Tiberius, because he looked like he'd just come out of a pitched, life and death battle himself, and even then, only barely.

"A consequence…of the Aias," Emiya grunted. "The damage to the shield…is reflected on the user."

That might have been more useful to know earlier. It almost certainly would have changed Da Vinci and Romani's calculus on who should be on the vanguard team.

"Rika," I said sharply.

She jerked, and then lifted her arm, pointed at Emiya, and said, "R-right! U-um… First Aid!"

Some of Emiya's wounds healed, but not all of them. Apparently, he'd been hurt badly enough that just the one use wouldn't do it.

"First Aid!" she chanted again.

This time, it was enough to get him back to full health, and he took in a deep breath as he straightened.

"Thanks, Master."

"Y-yeah, sure. Anytime."

Slowly, Aífe walked across the clearing towards Tiberius, who was struggling to stand.

"Your tenacity is admirable," she told him. "Even reduced twice over, that should have been more than enough to kill you, and yet, still, you cling to this second life. You were a worthy opponent."

"S-screw…you," Tiberius grunted.

Aífe snorted. "And you Romans claim that it's my people who are the barbarians."

She spun her spear around until the point faced him and reared back her arm for the finishing blow.

"Goodbye, Lucius Tiberius Caesar," she told him. "I will remember your name as someone who gave me a good fight."

A blur suddenly shot towards her from behind, moving so fast that my eyes could barely see it.

"Aífe!"

It was all I could do to shout her name in warning, but I was too slow, because even as she spun around, there was almost no way she would be fast enough to block the incoming attack.

Dodge!

"Crocea —"

"Hrunting!"

Caesar stumbled to a stop, arm and sword still raised, to look down at the narrow shaft of the wickedly barbed sword that was sprouting from his chest, pierced straight through where Gáe Bolg had destroyed his armor. Next to me, Emiya let out a long, slow breath as the string of his bow vibrated for a brief moment. He clicked his tongue.

"I almost missed that one," he said ruefully.

I hadn't even had time to realize he'd materialized it, let alone formed an arrow and drawn it back.

"Oh," said Julius Caesar as he plopped onto the ground. "Well then. I guess that's it."

Aífe's shock gave way to thunderous fury. "You — !"

"Bitch!" Tiberius snarled as he surged to his feet. He wound back his arm and took aim for her neck with his sword. "Die!"

Oh no you don't!

Arash's voice hadn't even finished speaking in my head before a single arrow shot down from the sky and punched through Tiberius' wrist. Florent dropped from his limp fingers to clatter to the ground as he let out an angry yowl, clutching at his wounded arm with his other hand.

Aífe whirled about, lightning fast, and Gáe Bolg lashed out as a streak of crimson to carve a line across his throat — but she wasn't done with that single fatal blow, because she took aim and thrust her spear home into his neck.

"Oh god," Rika whispered, sounding somewhere between horrified and queasy.

Her brother agreed with a quiet, "Holy cow."

Tiberius opened his mouth, but all that came out was a wet gurgle as blood spilled down his lips and chin. Aífe pulled Gáe Bolg free with a savage yank and a spurt of arterial spray, and Tiberius fell like a puppet with its strings cut, already disintegrating at the edges into motes of glittering light. He vanished before he could even hit the ground.

Her gruesome task done, she turned on her heel again, eyes wide and mouth drawn into a tight line, and she marched over to Caesar, who managed to muster a weak smile.

"My dear," he tried, "has anyone ever told you that you are absolutely ravishing when you're angry?"

She ignored his words and reached down for his collar so she could use it to yank him to his feet.

"You promised answers," she seethed like the chill of winter. "So deliver, you spineless dog."

And Caesar chuckled. "Of course, that would be the worst insult that could ever leave those beautiful lips of yours, isn't it? After all, the only man to ever best you was a spineless dog himself, wasn't he?"

Aífe let go of Gáe Bolg, and it balanced itself perfectly on the rounded butt, jutting straight up into the air. She reached for the sword protruding from Caesar's body and pushed it back slowly, dragging the barbs back through the wound with fleshy squelches.

"I think I'm gonna be sick," Rika murmured.

"You realize…the more damage you do, the faster I'll disappear, don't you?" Caesar asked tightly, smile strained.

"If you won't talk, then we have no more use for you," was her chilly reply.

"Aífe!" I barked at her, and she stopped, looking over at me as though daring me to command her to show mercy.

Maybe I should have. The person I was trying to be probably would have. But I had no room to chide her for her cruelty, not when I'd done things that were arguably much worse and much crueler.

Instead, I walked over to them, and I called up a simple ant as I walked, directing it subtly through my uniform so that no one could see it beforehand, and most especially not Caesar. I kept it up my sleeve — quite literally — even as I reached them, already thinking up my ploy for if and when I had to use it.

"Are you a man of your word, Gaius Julius Caesar?" I asked him.

"I would like to think so," he said, smile still strained, "but then, I've broken plenty of promises and quite a few oaths in my time, haven't I?"

"You promised to tell us about the Holy Grail if we beat you," I went on. One of my eyebrows rose pointedly. "You look beaten to me."

"Yes, I suppose I am," he agreed, "and yes, I suppose I did." He sighed and briefly closed his eyes. "Very well, since a beautiful rose like yourself is asking, then how could I possibly refuse?"

My cheek twitched, but I didn't let him see any other reaction to the flattery.

"The Holy Grail you seek is indeed located in the United Empire's capital city," he told me, "in the seat of the empire's power. Although there are several 'emperors' who have been called to serve and guard it, the Grail itself remains in the possession not of any of them, but the Court Mage who serves our leader."

So, Romulus wasn't the one holding onto the Grail, but instead it was this court mage, whoever that was. Could that guy also be the one who wished on the Holy Grail and summoned the Roman emperors? If that was so, who could it be, and why would they want such a thing?

Assuming, of course, that it wasn't Lev — or Flauros, or whatever he might be calling himself now — and was someone else instead.

"This court mage," I began, "does he have a name?"

Caesar smiled. "Ah, but I've already told you more than enough, don't you think? After all, no matter his true identity, you will still need to seek him out to take the Grail from him, won't you?"

"And knowing who he is could make the difference between victory and defeat," I retorted.

"That much is true," he admitted. "But I've already given you what I promised, and to give more would only advantage you, my enemies, against the allies I've sworn to fight beside, won't it?"

"And Constantine?" Emiya called as he and the others drew closer, now that the fighting was over. "This Noble Phantasm of his, is it truly reaching us here from all the way back at your capital city, or do we have another Servant we need to worry about nearby?"

Caesar grinned, even as he started to fade into glittering dust at the edges. "Ah, but would you expect me to tell you that either? My handsome Eastern friend, if I were to assist you that thoroughly, shouldn't I just tell you all the true names of my allies and how you might go about defeating them?"

Emiya sneered. "So it's like that, then. Figures. It couldn't be that easy, could it."

"Is there anything we could do to convince you to help us?" Ritsuka asked earnestly.

"I'm already dead." Caesar chuckled. "There are no more of my wishes that are within your power to grant, Chaldean Master. Why did you think I went along with this mad scheme, if not to find a chance to steal the Grail for myself?"

He burst apart into motes of light that flickered and died, and he was gone. I clicked my tongue and had my ant retreat; I hadn't had the chance to use him as a prop to convince Caesar to be more generous with his information.

It probably wouldn't have worked anyway. Anything with the oomph to affect a Servant likely radiated enough power on its own that the absence of that power would give me away. I was going to have to figure something out for that, or else just figure out how to enhance a few bugs so I could use them in a few more useful tricks.

"Servant presence dissipated," Mash reported quietly. "He's gone, Senpai. Julius Caesar has been defeated. Lucius Tiberius, as well."

Ritsuka's fists clenched. "He didn't tell us anything we didn't know."

"No," I agreed, "but he confirmed a few things that we weren't sure of. Like the fact that the Grail is in the United Empire's capital city — Aífe?"

She spun suddenly, and the backs of her knuckles smashed into Emiya's face with a thunderous CRACK. He stumbled, jerking to the side, and nearly fell.

"Emiya!" Ritsuka and Mash cried.

"What the hell are you doing?" Rika demanded, lifting her arm up — uselessly, because Aífe had Magic Resistance at A-Rank, which meant she wouldn't even be tickled by our Gandr.

"Everyone, stop!" I ordered, prepared to use my Command Spells just in case.

"That," said Aífe, "was for interfering."

"That's a funny way of thanking someone for saving your life," Emiya grunted, wiping a streak of blood from the corner of his lips. "Not the worst thanks I've ever gotten, I'll admit, but far from the best."

"You would've died!" Rika agreed.

"Which is why it was a slap instead of a punch," said Aífe. "I'm no fool. This Noble Phantasm of Constantine's is weakening all of us, to the point that our Noble Phantasms are almost useless. In that sense, my fight with Lucius Tiberius was never a proper one on one duel to begin with, so there was nothing lost on my end from accepting your help. That doesn't change the fact that you inserted yourself, unwanted, into my fight."

Emiya snorted as he straightened. "I see. So it really was just a matter of pride, wasn't it?"

"I didn't break my oaths to the man who cheated me out of my victory," she told him dangerously, "even though it inevitably cost me my son's life. Do you think I would start now?"

"I don't have any use for something as pointless as pride." Emiya shrugged and smirked. "I just feed it to the dogs."

Aífe smiled, a thing of cold and sharp edges. "So you do."

"Enough," I cut in. "There's no room among Chaldea's forces for infighting." I turned pointedly to her. "Aífe, if you're dissatisfied with how things are, then we can have our contract nullified."

"Wait, what?" Ritsuka demanded, panicking.

"We can?" Rika asked, surprised.

"A powerful Servant is not more important than a cohesive unit," I went on, pretending they hadn't spoken. "If you can't work with Emiya, then we won't force you to stay."

For a long moment, Aífe searched my face, looking for…the lie, I had to assume, but although I didn't want to let her go and didn't actually plan on it, nothing I'd said was really untrue. We couldn't afford to have our Servants at each other's throats all the time, and if they couldn't work together, we'd be better off knowing now and calling Siegfried or Bradamante as reinforcements than trying to force a square peg into a round hole.

Finally, Aífe snorted and smirked. "No, we understand each other perfectly well, I think. Very well, Master of Chaldea." She reached out, and her spear seemed almost to leap into her hand as she snatched it back up again. "In the interest of mankind's future, I do believe I can set aside my pride and work together with you and your Servants. If future fights prove to be as entertaining as this one was, then I think I can be satisfied with that."

"How gracious of you," Emiya said sarcastically.

"Wait, I'm confused," said Rika. "Did Senpai just win a staring contest with Super Action Mom, or am I just dumb?"

"I'm not sure what happened either," Ritsuka admitted.

"Fou, fou, fou-fou, fou kyuu fou," the little gremlin on Mash's shoulder said, in a tone that suggested it was explaining things. Like it could actually talk.

Fuck me, where did it keep going whenever it ducked out of sight? Even something that size should still be noticeable to my bugs.

"I told you earlier that you Masters would have to prove yourselves to me as well," said Aífe. "You didn't think it would be as easy as standing there behind your Shielder and watching me fight, did you?"

"Is that what just happened?" Rika asked disbelievingly.

"Well, I'm certain you'll have more opportunities in the future," Aífe told them with a smirk. "And more than that… Emiya, have you noticed it?"

Emiya's brow furrowed, and then he straightened, head swiveling as he looked around. "Constantine's Noble Phantasm…"

My eyes went wide as I noticed it now, too.

"I can't feel it anymore."

Neither could I. That oppressive feeling, like there was a wall of mist between me and my bugs, was gone now. My powers were back to normal.

"A Noble Phantasm that absolute in effect isn't easy to use," said Aífe with the air of a teacher. "To have that much reach, the only way it could be enforced is if it relied not on such things as distance, but territory. Then, if all the lands of the United Empire are his territory —"

"It covers the entirety of the United Empire," Emiya realized with dawning horror.

My stomach clenched. Ice raced through my veins. "What?"

If Constantine's Noble Phantasm could do what it did across the entirety of the enemy's territory, then wouldn't that mean we'd be all but crippled if we tried to fight them in it?

"Just as he said." Aífe grinned, mirthless. "As long as you stand upon Constantine's land, you are subject to his laws. Under his rule, Rome saw its greatest era of prosperity and wealth, bolstered by a unity it hadn't seen before or since. Peace across the breadth of the empire — that is Pax Romana."