“I’m guessing there’s a lot on the horizon then?”

Ren stood in the Velvet Room once more. They had been on the march and were almost in the pass where they would set up their defenses. This was probably going to be the last truly restful night they would all have before the United Roman Empire would be upon them. He thought it would be a good idea to visit the Velvet Room to take care of some last preparations before all hell broke loose. While he was already decently prepared, it certainly wouldn’t hurt to make sure.

Thus, Igor, Lavenza, and Olga were there to greet him. The girls’ expressions were grim, and even Igor’s perpetual smile wasn’t as wide as it usually was. The last time he had seen them so serious was when they had been trapped in Maruki’s paradise. “You are facing a considerable foe, my Trickster,” Lavenza murmured. “This foe is not bound by conventional resources, nor do you have the advantage of the Metaverse to avail you. I have faith in you, of course, but even then the odds are…”

“Not favorable,” Olga completed bluntly with a frown. “Amamiya, you are already aware by now that your persona magecraft has its limits. You have plenty of capable Servants by your side, as well as Mash and Fujimaru, but this battle will stretch your resources thin. I assume you have a plan?”

The Phantom Thief sighed. “When it comes to huge battles like this, I’m as green as they come,” he admitted with a shrug. “I’ll most likely be consulting the emperor and the legates and seeing what they come up with. For now, it’s just getting there and set up, then seeing what we can do from there.”

“Speaking of which,” he continued, looking over at Igor. “Thanks for starting up with the Arcana again,” Ren said with a smile. “I was honestly surprised it took so long for them to form again – though they may have all been filled up with… with everyone from before.” Again, not the time. He had to remain focused. And they were only gone temporarily. He would make sure of that.

Igor shook his head. “Your gratitude is misplaced, my dear guest,” he corrected. “The Arcana are merely something the Velvet Room enables for its guests, but the establishing of them is solely their responsibility. You have been closed off from those around you, and thus it was difficult to establish new Arcana. Even when you trusted, it was out of necessity, not out of your own wishes.”

Ren winced slightly. Igor wasn’t wrong there. And because of his mistakes, everything had started to brew over, especially with Joan. There was no easy way to fix things with her, but at the very least, he could do better. He needed to do better.

The Master of the Velvet Room glanced up at Ren, his eternal smile widening. “However, you have once more demonstrated resolve and fortitude to continue on your journey,” he praised. “Re-opening your heart is no small feat, my dear guest, especially on such a perilous path and after suffering so greatly. And especially learning where you have failed and standing once more. It is truly commendable.”

Ren nodded solemnly. Praise from Igor wasn’t uncommon, but it was never done lightly either. And it also came with blunt but truthful analysis of what he had been doing. He could count on Igor and Lavenza to never mince words with him one way or another. It meant at least he was on the right path. He just needed to continue what he was doing and work things out as he went along.

Olga cleared her throat, catching Ren’s attention. “There are four Personas I want for you to summon again,” she stated. “Cerberus, Clotho, Lachesis, and Atropos. Can you dispel them, then summon them once more?”

The Phantom Thief blinked at the request, then nodded. Without hesitation, he dismissed the four Personas from his mind and glanced over to Lavenza. The little girl gave a happy smile over at Olga before opening her book, the pages flipping to the four personas once more before waving her hand. The four personas once more appeared: Three beautiful women – one bearing a spindle, one holding a thread, and the last holding a pair of scissors – and the white lion-like persona with a scorpion tail.

However, he noticed something odd about them and peered into their information – and blinked in surprise. Not only did their stats increase a good amount, but so were their powers as well. The skills were a bit more costly to use but paled in comparison to the increase in potency. He glanced up at Olga in surprise as he quickly put two and two together. “Uh, thanks, Olga,” he stammered. “What exactly did you do, though? I thought the Velvet Room’s abilities were down?”

“They are,” Olga confirmed. “What happened here was a project of mine. I connected some of your personas to my Animusphere magecraft and aligned them with various celestial bodies and constellations. I only experimented with these four for now and it took some time for me to work out the various nuances. It’s very much an experiment though, so I will require you to inform me of how they perform.”

Ren nodded slowly. As he looked over the personas however, he felt an odd sensation coming from Cerberus. Olga followed his gaze and nodded. “I managed to connect Cerberus to the Leo constellation, utilizing the concept of a ‘lion’,” she explained. “It took a bit of work considering that in many cases, even here, ‘lion’ isn’t typically applied to the guard dog of the Greek Underworld, but I worked with Lavenza and worked it out. I’ve also connected him with the Canis Major and Minor constellations. With that, the connection and strength of Cerberus would be even stronger than the Fates.”

“Yeah, tell me about it,” Ren mulled. While his personas always felt like part of him – I am thou, thou art I, after all – this time Cerberus felt like a full-on extension of him in turn. With Olga’s improvements, coupled with the fact that they were in a Roman singularity and therefore easier to utilize, these personas were going to be extraordinarily useful. He smiled broadly to Olga. “These are going to be handy,” he declared. “Thank you so much, Olga.”

OIga flushed a bit but retained her decorum. “Think nothing of it, Amamiya,” she replied, dismissing his gratitude. “For this situation, you’ll need every advantage you can get. Again, be sure to report back to me about how they handle and I will operate from there.”

Igor chuckled as Lavenza smiled, shaking her head. “Olga worked tirelessly on her project so that she may share her strength with you, my Trickster,” she commented (drawing a shocked and betrayed look from her junior). “We are always doing what we can to support you on your path. Please, have faith and trust, not just in us, but those around you. We will always lend you our strength.”

Ren blinked, then gently smiled to all three. “Yeah, I know,” he replied. “Or I should know anyway at this point, but a reminder is nice. Thanks so much, all of you.” He glanced behind him into his cell. “I should get back. It’s going to be a long day and there’ll be a lot to do.”

“Of course,” Lavenza accepted. “May luck be on your side.”

And with that, darkness swallowed him up, and he knew no more.

----------

Ritsu breathed out, watching her breath turn into fog in the cool air before curling away. She shivered slightly as she walked past several tents on her way back to her tent. The sun had barely even begun to set yet it was obscured by the mountains above them, casting a deep shadow over the camp. The cold air of the mountain pass whistled by – not enough that it was freezing, but still enough to get her teeth chattering.

Nero’s forces were in the middle of setting up what fortifications they could in preparation for the battle, sharpening wooden stakes and implanting them in the ground, hauling massive amounts of gravel for makeshift walls, constructing siege engines such as onagers and scorpions, and more. As speed was paramount, the entire camp would be sleeping and resting in shifts as they worked around the clock, making what preparations they could. Scouts were even sent back to Mediolanum to try and establish a supply line in case it would turn into a siege – something that the commanders hoped weren’t going to happen.

As for the Chaldeans, they were each doing their own thing. Joan was busy studying within her tent, learning what she could about Roman military to try and gain some sort of advantage. Loki was nowhere to be found, though given the lack of anything being disruptive, it could be assumed he was at least behaving himself. Tamamo was currently outside the camp, setting her talismans as traps to help soften up the invasion.

And for Nero’s allies, Lu Bu was currently marching back and forth outside the front, his eyes staring unblinkingly into the pass for the enemy force to arrive. And Jing Ke was right in front of her, sitting in front of a fire with a bunch of off-duty troops, laughing and drinking. Seriously, was there a time where the woman wasn’t drinking?

Then she blinked. Wait, are Servants even supposed to get drunk? The Assassin was certainly proving that could be the case. Jing Ke noticed someone staring at her and glanced over, beaming as she laid eyes on the redheaded Master. “If it isn’t one of the Auxiliaries!” she greeted cheerfully. “It’s… Fujimaru, right? Come, sit, sit! I’ll pour you a cup!”

“Yeah, come on! The more lovely company the better!” one roared.

“Less of a dreary march when there’s more women than just the emperor!” another one shouted.

They all laughed uproariously with Jing Ke joining in. Ritsu smiled uncomfortably. Though she was happy to meet new people, especially ancient Romans, she had a prickling in the back of her mind about the whole situation. “Er, maybe next time,” she began making her excuse. “I’m kinda tired right-“

“Oi, what are you louts doing!?”

The soldiers immediately began panicking as an officer marched towards them, his rage extremely clear through his helmet. “You’re on duty and you’re here drinking?!” he roared. “This ain’t a romp through some vineyard with maidens! Now get moving before I have you flogged and thrown into the front lines as meat shields! Move it, move it, move it!”

They immediately began scrambling, grabbing their helmets and running as the officer continued marching after them, yelling threats and reprimands. Both girls just watched until they disappeared behind a corner of tents, their shouts echoing into the air.

“Huh,” Jing Ke huffed as she poured herself another cup. “A shame. They were giving me some good information too.”

Ritsu blinked in surprise. “Information?” she asked.

The Assassin nodded casually. “Drunk men often have loose lips,” she explained. “And collecting every scrap of info you can is essential when you’re carrying out assassinations. Coupled with my appearance and attitude and, well, many end up dropping their guard around me.” With that, she took another drink and sighed. “A shame they don’t have anything better than this watered-down wine,” she grumbled.

The Master could only stare flabbergasted as she moved to sit beside the woman. “So, what did you find out?” she asked, her curiosity now brimming over.

Jing Ke shrugged. “About what you’d expect, really,” she replied. “Some gossip here and there, some health issues like foot rot or chafing, oh, and a bunch of soldiers that were planning on deserting to the United Roman Empire while giving them our plans for defense. That’s always entertaining.”

Ritsu, who had poured himself a bit of wine and was sipping it, proceeded to spit it out into the fire, causing the burning wood to hiss in protest. “I-I’m sorry?” she spluttered in shock as she wiped drips off her chin with her sleeve. “Deserters with plans? Isn’t that serious? Aren’t you gonna do something?!”

The woman shrugged. “Oh, that’s not my specialty,” she replied casually. “I just happened to let the officer know. From what I could tell, he was gonna keep them over in the front, well away from any plans. Even if they defected, they wouldn’t have anything good to give them anyway and will probably be cut down.”

The redhead’s mouth dropped open slightly, then her mind started putting pieces together. “Y-You mean those soldiers-“ she stuttered.

“Indeed.”

“And that officer-“

“The same.”

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

“So they’re-“

“Either going to help us fight or they’ll be harmless, yes,” the Assassin finished as she poured another cup (how did she drain them that fast?). “I’m aware Roman armies typically have much harsher punishment for treason, but morale is shaky enough as is. Best not to make public displays of killing. Punishment, yes, but killing? Not so much.”

The Master could only blink, dumbfounded. “Wow, uh, I… didn’t expect that,” she muttered.

“Did you think I’m sort of drunkard who probably wouldn’t be good for much?” she asked, raising an eyebrow over her cup – and burst out laughing as Ritsu’s eyes immediately widened in panic. “I joke, I joke!” she chuckled. “I do love my drink, yes, and many would not recommend it. However, there are quite a few advantages to it. For me, at any rate.”

Jing Ke smiled as she reclined, her muscular legs showing through her light white robes (which Ritsu was doing all in her power not to ogle at). “As I said earlier, a drunkard is often underestimated, and for good reason – their reasoning and coordination are compromised, and under any normal circumstance would be an easy target. Thus, they drop their guard and allow you to get the drop on them. Whether for information or for killing, it’s one and the same.”

She stared up at the darkening sky. “And also, it’s a surprising social skill,” she added. “Many frequent taverns, and parties often have good booze. If you know your way around alcohol, you’d be surprised at how many doors you’d find, and what words you’d catch. Quite handy indeed.”

Ritsu blinked in surprise and pondered as she took a sip of the wine – and her face scrunched up in disgust. “Ugh, gods, good to know,” she croaked out. “But I don’t think that kind of method works for me. This stuff tastes awful!”

The Assassin laughed again as Ritsu set down her cup. “It is certainly an acquired taste,” she admitted. “Perhaps you’ll get used to it in time.”

“Yeah, not happening,” the Master grumbled before looking curiously at Jing Ke. “So out of curiosity, what’s your legend?” she asked. “I know the big guy is Lu Bu and he’s honestly nothing but trouble from what I know about him. But I haven’t heard of you.”

Jing Ke laughed once again. “Then I’m doing my job at least somewhat right or I’d be a terrible Assassin!” she pointed out. Ritsu chuckled with her in turn, agreeing to the point. The laughter eventually faded and they sat in silence for a little bit.

Just when the redhead thought she wouldn’t answer, she spoke. “You know Qin Shi Huangdi?” she asked quietly.

Ritsu blinked. “Er, the very first emperor of China, I think?” she guessed as she racked her brain for whatever history knowledge she had in there. “Was known as an absolute tyrant, threw a lot of scholars into puts to be buried alive, burned a lot of books, and all around was a pretty nasty guy. Why?”

The Assassin smiled, though there was little humor in it. More a mixture of sadness and wistfulness. “I was an assassin signed on to kill him,” she murmured. “It was a suicide mission, but I agreed regardless with a smile. It was for a great cause, and I might as well go out on a poetic note. I made what preparations were needed and had an assistant with me to help facilitate the assassination. We came close. So very, very close.”

She sighed. “The assistant, however, was inexperienced,” she continued. “So many soldiers and guards all around us, so many walls, and the gaze of the emperor himself left the boy petrified. I had to continue on alone. I approached the emperor, a present in hand – and within was a knife, coated in a poison that would have killed him with a single scratch.”

The woman fell silent. “What happened next?” Ritsu pushed, her eyes wide in rapt attention.

A bitter smile spread on her face. “Ten steps,” she stated. “Ten steps were all that I needed in the end to kill him. But he saw the knife and dodged my strike just in time. He ran, yelling for the guards as I pursued him.”

Then she broke into laughter – a laughter that was partially bitterness and partially genuine amusement. “In the end, we both ended up running circles around one of the huge pillars in the Imperial Palace!” she chuckled. “Because of the size of it, I could not get to him, and he could easily elude me! We must’ve looked like a right pair of fools! But it did its job – it bought the emperor enough time for his guards to arrive.”

“And that was the end?” Ritsu guessed quietly.

Jing Ke shrugged as she poured herself another cup – and frowned in consternation as the flow slowed to a drop. She stared at the partially filled cup before shrugging and downed it regardless. “Well, almost,” she admitted. “The emperor wanted to make an example of me, as the one closest to killing him. To that end, he marched me out into an open field and had the capital watch as an entire battalion of archers served as my executioners. My bonds were even cut so I could’ve attempted to run – not that it would’ve made much of a difference.”

The Master blinked in surprise. “And did you?” she asked.

The woman shook her head. “I told you before, didn’t I? I knew it was a suicide mission from the moment I signed on,” she pointed out. “I simply smiled as I watched the cloud of arrows descend on me like a storm – and that was that. The emperor made his example of me in the end – he survived until old age with only one more assassination attempt. The Throne was nice enough to even tell me he tried to seek out the elixir of immortality but guess that didn’t work out.”

Ritsu could only stare, utterly transfixed. “Wow,” she murmured. “You are so…. AWESOME!”

That caught the Assassin by surprise as her mouth fell open. “I… perhaps you misheard my story,” she replied, confused. “I failed as an assassin – my target lived, and I’m known because of my failure. I doubt that qualifies as ‘awesome’ in any regard.”

“Yeah, but you came close to someone who should’ve been unkillable!” Ritsu retorted. “Sure, your plans didn’t go through because of stuff you didn’t expect, that didn’t change that you came within feet of succeeding! What you did took a lot of nerve and again, you were so close! That makes you awesome in my book!”

Jing Ke could only blink several times, trying to process what she said. Then she began laughing. A quiet chuckle at first, then uproarious laughter that had her collapsing on her back laughing, causing everyone – from Ritsu to the surrounding soldiers – to stare in concern and/or consternation. “Wh-what a refreshing perspective on it!” she laughed. “Many would focus on the results – especially magi – yet you focused on the work and preparation behind it! How spectacular!”

“It’s not that funny,” Ritsu pouted.

“Ah, forgive me, forgive me,” the Assassin apologized as she tried to rein in her mirth. “I confess I have not heard of such a response before. Normally, a failed assassin deserves nothing more than mockery, so hearing praise like that is rather surprising.”

She stared up at the darkening sky, a content smile on her face. “Still, I thank you for your kind words,” she murmured. “You are correct – while results are important, it would be foolish to discard what follows up to that point. I can take some solace in that, at least. And I even have an opportunity to make up for it and give better results as well.”

Suddenly, Jing Ke began beaming as she sprang up. “This calls for a drink!” she cheerfully stated. Looking around, there was another jug the soldiers had left behind. Snatching it, she filled her own cup as well as Ritsu’s, almost up to the brim before passing the cup back. She raised her cup. “To the path we treaded, and to a redeemed future,” she toasted.

Ritsu blinked, then grinned. “I’ll drink to that!” she cheerily agreed as the two clanked their cups together, a bit of wine spilling out. With a grin, Jing Ke immediately downed the drink as Ritsu brought the cup to her lips and slowly, agonizingly drained it. She gasped for breath as she finally got the last drop down her throat. “Oh gods, maybe next time, we celebrate with something a bit… nicer?” she pleaded, reaching for her water bottle.

The Assassin only laughed in response.

---------

The next day came. The overhead skies were dark and heavy, pregnant with rain. The soldiers had worked throughout the night, creating more fortifications as supply carts rolled up with more building materials. There was a tension gathering in the air that couldn’t be missed. There was more work to be done but there was absolutely no doubt that it was simply the calm before the storm.

The Chaldeans had already met in the command tent with Nero and Asisculus as they discussed and debated plans, whether they wanted to hole up in the impromptu fort or meet them in the field, the positioning of the Servants, troop formations, and where would the Masters be placed. Mash, of course, would be situated near the Masters to protect them. There was some argument whether having her there to protect two seemingly innocuous people might draw attention, but it was eventually agreed that the protection would be needed.

And of course, there was one more debate that became rather heated: Whether Nero should be in the front lines or not. The emperor believed that as befits her office, of course she’d be in the front lines. The legate believed that as befits her office, of course she’d be in the back away from the heat of the battle, especially in such cramped quarters. That was when the Chaldeans dismissed themselves before Nero could ask for their opinion on the matter.

Ren glanced over at Ritsu who had her arms crossed, her finger tapping impatiently on her arm as the two of them as well as Mash stood on the battlements of the makeshift palisade wall. All around them, soldiers were reinforcing the wall or dropping off baskets of building materials and arrows. “You nervous?” Ren asked.

Ritsu blinked as he spoke then sighed. “Yeah, a bit,” she admitted. “But more just… impatient. All this waiting around here is driving me nuts. I mean, sure, more time means more preparations can be done but it’s kinda like waiting for your exam results, you know?”

The Phantom Thief chuckled. “It does feel a bit like that, doesn’t it,” he commented. He looked over at Mash. “What about you, Mash?” he asked. “You feel the same?”

Mash bit her lip. “A bit,” she confessed. “It reminds me of Lyon, when we were waiting for the doppelganger and her entire army of dragons and Servants. Only… well, the wait is longer. And against a larger number of foes. It should be familiar yet despite everything, I still feel nervous.”

Ren smiled gently. “That’s only natural,” he reassured her. “The days leading up to a heist – our do-or-die moments – were much like this too. At the end of the day, the best thing we can do now is just prepare and when it hits, we’re ready for it in every way.” He stretched, loosening his muscles and joints.

“Do you have any advice on what to do then, Ren-senpai?” Mash asked.

He thought about it. “Some light exercises,” he suggested. “Or reading. Whatever helps you relax but you can easily get into action when you need to. We typically did that whenever we found a safe room in Palaces.”

Ritsu nodded. “Yeah, you’re right, that sounds like a good idea,” she agreed. She glanced over at Ren and Mash. “Wanna join me in some exercises, you two?” she asked, smirking.

Ren could only shake his head at just how unsubtle Ritsu was being, but Mash being Mash nodded eagerly. “Of course, Ritsu-senpai!” she said cheerfully.

The Phantom Thief could only chuckle as he shrugged. “Sure, sounds like a good idea to me,” he easily agreed.

The redheaded girl grinned. “Sweet!” she cheered. “Race you guys to the training grounds! Last one there’s a rotten egg!” With that, she quickly dashed off, leaving the two blinking.

“R-Ritsu-senpai!” Mash cried after her before quickly running off after her. Ren once more could only chuckle as he followed at a more leisurely pace.

All the while the clouds above were darkening.

---------

The march had been proving to be a surprisingly easy affair overall. The soldiers didn’t require much in terms of necessities – they were constructs, after all, and quite sturdy. They could be easily supplied in the thousands while also proving to be as resilient and effective as an actual Roman legion – provided they were given proper commands. Thus, peppered into the expedition were a number of human officers that issued orders to their units, who would obey them without question. Without having to feed much of the rank and file, as well as their food supplies also provided for, logistics were hardly an issue either.

Leonidas could only sigh. This hardly felt like a proper expedition whatsoever. The soldiers around him were soulless, they were fighting for goals that just about nobody except the officers really believed in, and to top it off, they were marching through a mountain pass where it was almost guaranteed their opposition would’ve set up forces waiting for them. Coupled with the fact that they were ten thousand strong and they were perhaps a thousand at absolute most…

The irony was so thick he could practically thrust into it with his spear.

Frankly, he didn’t even want to fight in this battle or war. They had all been summoned by that magician, Lev, and commanded to fight against the Roman Empire. Honestly, it had been so easy that he had been utterly dissatisfied the entire war. Battle after battle, the Roman armies collapsed or defected easily to their superior forces. Even after the Roman emperor had summoned some Servants, they were either holding places too far into the empire or were occupied otherwise.

And the point was, absolutely none of them wanted to fight this war. They only did because they were commanded to. Thus, they all took their time and made careless mistakes intentionally. But even then, victory was inevitable eventually, given their resources… until now.

He stepped out of the tent, his powerful body easily weathering the cold wind that blew through the pass. His stern gaze turned skyward as he looked at the weather. It would rain soon. That would certainly make the attack more difficult, given they were fighting upward. Visibility would also be heavily reduced as well.

The Spartan king turned his eyes towards the cliff sides. Would there also be a chance of mudslides? If so, would it fall on his forces or the Romans’? Or both? Frankly, under normal circumstances, he would wait for the attack until weather conditions were more favorable overall, while having his men keep careful watch in case the Romans were idiotic enough to sally forth. Fighting here would mean considerable losses for his forces.

But frankly? He didn’t give a damn. The soldiers here were just constructs and the officers with him were greedy fools. It could be a damn trap for all he cared. He recently had gotten reports from survivors and deserters that apparently, the Roman Empire had some new mercenary force with them, one with powers equaling that of Servants (which meant they probably were Servants).

Now the Roman Empire was on the offensive, and frankly he was giddy. Did the Roman Empire have the tenacity and the determination to survive and truly determine human history? He couldn’t wait to see for himself. This battle would determine it. The whole situation might be a reverse of Thermopylae, but he had the same, familiar sensation run down his back:

He wouldn’t survive this battle. And he wouldn’t regret it for an instant.

Suddenly, a construct soldier ran up, holding a rolled-up parchment in its hand. The Spartan king took it, frowning. Along with having no eyes, the soldiers weren’t capable of speech either. They could still hear, read, and write, but that was about it. They were truly automatons, made to execute orders and nothing else. If they had life to them – families and lives to get back to, hobbies they enjoyed, a past they had come from, a present they lived in, and a future they would carve for themselves, he would certainly not be so reckless in this attack. But they weren’t.

He unrolled the parchment and read the report. A few of the officers had seen to ask the locals about the lay of the land, and now this was the result. As he read it, the irony became even thicker and thicker. Leonidas had to smile. It had looped around from eliciting consternation back into being rather amusing. It would even be a fun little diversion for him.

The king looked back up the mountain pass, towards where he knew the Roman camp awaited him as an eager grin spread on his face. How would proper human history weather his challenge? He couldn’t wait to find out.