“INCOMING!”
Ren glanced up at the shout as another cluster of burning jars crashed down into the city, spreading green flames. Thankfully no soldiers had been posted there this time and all the flames could consume were buildings. The nearby soldiers winced and made distance as Ren raced toward the flames on Cerberus, the lion weaving and leaping past rubble and corpses in the city. He dismounted when he got close to the fire and switched masks once more.
“Lachesis!”
The Measurer of the Thread sprang forth once more into being. With a gesture from her, ice erupted from the surfaces, quickly suffocating and extinguishing the flames before they could spread. The fast response meant that the buildings only suffered some scorch marks. Repairs would be needed but they were at least still structurally sound and weren’t about to collapse anytime soon. Ren sighed with relief, wiping away some of the sweat that accumulated on his brow as he felt his circuits burning throughout his body.
The attack had begun early in the morning, heralded by a swarm of flaming arrows that thudded down into the buildings in an attempt to set everything on fire. It was quickly followed by a hail of normal arrows soaring through the night sky. Thanks to the flaming arrows destroying the soldiers’ night vision, they landed to devastating effect, cutting down swathes of Roman soldiers as the unlit arrows found their mark. As the Romans desperately returned fire, the onagers began tossing projectiles, starting with large stones that devastated people and masonry alike.
More soldiers began surging forward, many of them laden with wheelbarrows filled with wood and debris as they were escorted by soldiers holding shields aloft to ward off return fire. They dumped their cargo into the ditch, filling it up, before retreating to grab more. The Roman onagers within the city fired back with their own ammo – stones made from dismantled structures within the city – but while they slew dozens of URE soldiers, as expected, they didn’t even so much as flinch or hesitate.
However, the soldiers were acting differently than how they were in the past. Instead of silently marching towards them, many of the soldiers were slamming their swords or spears against their shields if they were able to. At first, the Romans thought it was an intimidation tactic, and it certainly daunted many of the defenders on the walls. However, Ren was the first to realize it served another purpose: They couldn’t hear the officers shouting over the clamor, making it more difficult for them to pinpoint their location. Not to mention, the distinctive decorative helmets and trappings were missing, making them even harder to find.
They had their confirmation when both Jing Ke and Loki reappeared to report to the emperor and Ren. “I can’t find the officers,” she growled, looking uncharacteristically annoyed about the whole situation. “Their shouts seem to keep getting distorted in my ears and there’s nothing I can see that gives them away. Seems like the work of a Caster – probably that Waver Velvet guy – but hunting them is a lot more difficult than I expected.”
“What she said,” Loki drawled in confirmation. “It’s like finding a needle in a haystack. Well, more like finding hay in a needlestack at the rate this is going. It doesn’t help that as soon as we get found out, the soldiers immediately turn around to attack us. They’re pretty coordinated this time, I’ll fully admit.”
Nero frowned at the report as she considered her options. “Focus on dismantling their siege engines then,” she ordered. “At the very least we need to minimize their capabilities of destroying the city.”
With their new orders, the onagers and scorpions quickly started being destroyed or dismantled. Yet even that was counteracted as more were erected with inhuman speed. The Roman defenders could see the lumber and various other supplies being carried to the front, and both Jing Ke and Loki were hard-pressed to stem the flow with the sheer concentration of soldiers all around. Thus, while there was less damage from the siege engines, they continued their attacks regardless.
As they expected, the URE proceeded to circle to the north in an attempt to surround them, where Lu Bu was stationed. However, even this ran into its own difficulties: The detachment was led by Alexander himself, riding a beautiful black horse. They had expected Alexander to charge straight at the Berserker, given his boisterous attitude. Instead, he simply circled around the man and did passing charges, swinging his blade and making only superficial wounds. Each and every time, Lu Bu was hemmed and harried by Alexander’s literally fearless troops, preventing him from retaliating or reacting properly. The Berserker’s resulting roars of frustration shook even the city’s masonry.
On top of that, it became evident that the contingent’s aim wasn’t to surround the city – the steady flow of soldiers combined with Alexander’s hit-and-run maneuvers on top of his steed made it clear that it was simply to pin the Berserker so he couldn’t dive right into the front lines and wreak havoc. Alexander, Waver, and the URE officers had accounted for Lu Bu’s sheer strength and thus were dealing with him accordingly.
As Ren leaned against a wall after extinguishing yet another burst of flames from the onagers to rest his burning body, he watched as a gaggle of exhausted soldiers shuffled past him. Yet another factor they had to contend with was fatigue. It was now almost noon and the attack hadn’t lightened up in the slightest. Exhaustion was setting in, disrupting the aim of the archers and engineers and resulting in several casualties, with the flow of supplies to the walls also slowing down. Joan had taken it upon herself to act as relief, taking over for squadrons as they went to rest and recover or ferrying supplies singlehandedly, but it was only a stopgap. She couldn’t be everywhere all at once, even as a Servant – less so as an incarnated one.
Once more, the United Roman Empire soldiers held their distinct advantages: Tireless, inexhaustible, they did not fear nor shirk their orders no matter what kind of command was given. Combined with their sheer numbers and a competent command, and instead of an army, it felt far more akin to fighting the very tide of the ocean. Morale among was quickly breaking down despite Nero’s best efforts. Despite their overwhelming might, it was clear the URE meant to capture the city, not destroy it. Otherwise, it would’ve been child’s play to simply sweep them aside.
From the beginning, there had been no grand strategy to hold the city of Massilia. Their supply lines were sparse as they needed to be brought in from the east or from ships now that the seaward route had been secured. They severely lacked in manpower compared to the URE. The only advantage they currently held were the fortifications of the city, but no more than that. Right now, all they could do was wait until reinforcements from Gaul and the sea. The combined power of all the Servants would be enough to turn the tide.
Unfortunately, that wouldn’t be for a few more days – and they hardly even started the first one.
Another shout, another cluster of flaming pots, and another outburst of flames. Ren sighed as he switched masks, summoned Cerberus once more, and raced over. He had already discussed with Nero and her officers about Waver – particularly how the man could very well figure out his magecraft and enact ways to counteract that. Either from his own magecraft or some other method, he wasn’t sure, but it was a likely possibility. Thus, he was relegated to the backlines and helped out however he could. The less they revealed to the enemy, the better.
Still, he didn’t expect himself to be a one-man firefighter brigade. It was just as well – these flames were proving to be inextinguishable by water, and grabbing enough dirt to extinguish them took too much time and manpower, neither of which they could afford as the URE kept up the attack. Having ice on hand to suppress them seemed to work well.
Reaching the site of more flames, Ren quickly summoned Lachesis and used her ice to quell them – and his eyes once more widened at the sight of charred corpses. With a scowl, he forced himself to turn away, forcing down the bile and nausea that climbed up his throat. It was a small mercy that the stench of chemicals from the flames drowned out the smell of burning flesh. He stepped away from the site, went around a corner and sat down against a wall, bringing out a bottle of water to drink. His circuits throbbed from how often he had been using them at this point, causing him to scowl.
This siege had been considerably different than the previous ones, which were relatively quick and decisive. Especially the battle at the pass – they had been trying to hold a particular point just like they were holding out in Massilia. However, the soldiers there simply marched up to the walls, thrown in the meat grinder that was Joan, Lu Bu, and Tamamo’s spells. The furthest complication was when Leonidas tried to flank them and strike them from behind. And even then, it was clear that Leonidas hadn’t been trying hard to win.
Here, it was different. The scale was far, far larger. This time, Alexander and Waver were seeking victory, humanity’s existence be damned. Outlasting them like in the pass wasn’t an option, they couldn’t easily assassinate the officers like they had with previous encounters, and the battle would last far longer than any of them wanted, which played into the URE’s strengths entirely.
He sighed. He thought he was used to war or seeing corpses, especially after Orleans, but some things were harder than others to adjust to.
“Are you hurt, centurion?”
Ren glanced up as Nero walked up to him. She looked more exhausted and disheveled than usual, her golden armor dented in a few places from arrows, but her green eyes still remained clear and determined. He had to chuckle to himself at her strength. She was quite a woman.
In response, he shook his head. “No, not hurt,” he reassured her. “Just needed a moment to catch my breath.” He slowly stood him, wincing slightly as his body protested the movement. “What about you?” he asked. “I’m guessing things could be better?”
The emperor nodded grimly. “As well as it can be, but as you say, it could be better,” she agreed. “I have to thank you for quelling those flames so the men can focus on the battle.”
Ren shrugged. “Just doing what I can,” he easily replied. “How many of those things do you think they have anyway?”
Nero frowned. “Jing Ke wasn’t able to approach close enough to the camp to check on their supplies,” she replied. “However, I have no doubt that they brought more than enough to level the city if necessary. While I’m thankful that is not their aim, it is only cold comfort.”
Before Ren could respond, yet another cluster of flaming pots flew over the walls and crashed within the city some distance away. “I’m guessing you prefer the cold comfort compared to those flames though,” Ren quipped with a tired smile as he summoned Cerberus, once more mounting the persona.
Nero reflexively recoiled from the presence of the hound (or rather a lion) of the Underworld before collecting herself with a chuckle. “While I do enjoy the warmth, I prefer the fire to be from a hearth,” she quipped back. “I’ll inform Jing Ke to prioritize dealing with onagers that are launching the pots of fire.”
“That’d be great,” Ren replied gratefully. “Take care of yourself, Nero!”
“You as well, Ren,” Nero responded. She watched as the centurion ran off once more to deal with the flames and smiled to herself. As desperate as the situation was, she was happy for dependable allies – with Ren being perhaps the most dependable out of all of them.
“IMPERATOR, INCOMING!”
Shocked out of her reverie, Nero glanced up to see a large stone falling towards her. With a blink, she stepped aside as it thudded beside her, raising a small dust cloud. Brushing herself off, she glanced at the rock as she roared, “Take this stone and load it onto an onager! A gift so thoughtfully received must be returned a thousandfold!”
As the soldiers around her chorused their acknowledgement, she marched off to survey another area. There was much that had to be done, and much she could do. This battle was far from over. But one thing was clear.
If reinforcements didn’t arrive in time, they were doomed.
----------------------------------------
Da Vinci walked through the halls of Chaldea, humming a soft tune to herself. The hall was empty save for her as people either worked at their stations, rested in their rooms or another facility, or ate at the cafeteria. Apparently there was a demand for Ren’s curry and coffee, but given he was still in the singularity, everyone had to get by.
She couldn’t help but laugh as she saw the pile of complaints on Roman’s and her desk as a result. That ragazzo has Chaldea wrapped around his little finger with his cooking already! Ah, he and the gatto have already taken the place by storm in the short time they’ve been here. It hadn’t been all smooth sailing, of course, but it would have been boring if it was. Frankly, despite everything that had happened, she vastly preferred Chaldea now than before.
Her ever-present smile faded a bit as she thought back. Marisbury, Team A, Olga, the countless magi that composed the majority of Chaldea’s staffing…
Mash…
She breathed a quiet sigh. As much as she hated it, she and Roman were privy to a great deal of Chaldea’s secrets by necessity, many of which she despised. But nevertheless, she stayed in Chaldea, partly as damage control, partly because she actually did end up liking a good amount of people here, especially Mash and Roman. And her other reasons?
Well, a genius like herself was entitled to keep those nice and secret, no?
One of Chaldea’s robots rolled by quietly. Glancing at it, she smiled and gave it a pat as it passed her. The robots had been added as a necessity to help deal with the facility’s logistics, be it for cooking, janitorial work, and more. It certainly raised the quality of life for the staff. She had even taken a few models aside to tinker with in her spare time, making them more efficient or even able to play holograms. She hadn’t told anyone yet they could do the latter – she preferred to leave it as a surprise. She just needed to find a good time for it…
Popping by the cafeteria, she stepped back into the kitchen, waving off the robot who tried to request her order as she approached the coffee machines. Glancing over, she smiled at the recipe taped up to the wall. The ragazzo had left that recipe for Roman to emulate. It was simple enough of a recipe to follow, yet the good doctor struggled with it. Perhaps it was by following the recipe exactly? Cooking had always been an art, not a science, and perhaps he just didn’t have that touch? A genius herself could probably make it in a snap, and even teach Roman to do it too.
The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
Ah, but where was the fun in that? The discovery, the innovation, that moment when one bore witness to one’s own efforts bear fruit? No, she would not deprive Roman of that. Her spirit as an artist, inventor, and so much more would never allow it. If he asked for help, then perhaps she could give him a hint or two. But until then, she would leave him to it.
Besides, she often was a taste tester, and as horrid as some of his attempts were, it was also an excuse for them to spend time and chat together. All in all, it was a win-win situation for her and for Roman too. Whether he’d actually admit to it, she was still awaiting the answer. She knew what it was, but it was more satisfying to hear from him. She could wait. Geniuses did have their patience after all.
Even if it did wear thin at times.
Once she had the coffee brewed, she took the steaming mugs and carried them through the hallways. Now that she thought about it, there was a design she wanted to revisit. A pity her hands were full or she could take a look at them as she walked. Oh, but what if she had a small mechanical hand that could hold it for her? Maybe even have it attached to a small pouch so she could carry more things? Now her brain was putting together yet another design. It would be a very simple project, but it would be an entertaining one and practical to boot! Well, for her at least.
Making her way through the halls, it wasn’t long before she came to the command center. Most of the staff were at their stations taking care of various tasks such as verifying the existences of the Masters and Servants, research, reconnaissance, and more (Da Vinci thought she saw one person playing Galaga but considering the man’s work was getting done, she opted not to say anything). As usual, Roman was at the command table, concentrating on the screens and looking even more stressed than usual.
“Do I need Artoria to cover for you, Romani?” she asked exasperatedly as she placed the mug of coffee beside him, causing the doctor to jump about five feet in the air from being startled. “I understand it’s a tense situation right now but fretting to this degree will only slow down your thoughts.”
She glanced over his shoulder at the screen, looked at the readings, and frowned. “Though I will admit your tension is warranted,” she admitted with a murmur as she took a sip of her coffee.
Roman blinked in surprise, trying to reel in his spiked heart rate from the shock Da Vinci gave him before chuckling. “Sorry, can’t help but worry a lot at times,” he replied, smiling weakly. “Or all the time, rather.”
He could only sigh as he ran a hand through his orange hair. “Lord El-Melloi II,” he muttered. “How on earth is he here? I’m fairly certain he wouldn’t qualify as a Servant but even if he’s a pseudo, who’s he a pseudo for?”
“Perhaps a strategist?” Da Vinci suggested, looking at the map and readings. “Alexander is an excellent commander, but the subtler tactics such as disguising his officers as well as creating noise to hide their verbal orders do not seem to be his specialty if I recall from his campaigns. I could be mistaken though.” However, even as she said it, they knew it didn’t narrow things down much. There were plenty of famous commanders and generals throughout history. Trying to find out which heroic spirit was summoned through such vague methods was an exercise in frustration, to put it mildly.
The doctor frowned. “That’s probably the case,” he agreed. “But even then it means the Romans as well as Ren are in big trouble, since it seems unlike Leonidas or Caesar, they’re actually trying to win here. I’ve already forwarded the data to Artoria to see if she has any insight but even she’s struggling for ideas.”
The Caster frowned as she placed her mug on the table as well and crossed her arms. “How far away did you say the others were?” she asked.
“About three or four days away even if they decided to forgo any rest,” Roman answered grimly. A silence fell on the two as the information sunk in. The Roman forces were waiting for reinforcements that were simply too far away, against the tireless soldiers of the URE while commanded by Alexander and El-Melloi II, all while being outnumbered almost twenty to one.
Meanwhile, the most they could do was act as a communications hub between Ren, Ritsu, and Morgana. They couldn’t send more supplies or switch out Servants as Mash was currently with Ritsu and while the more war-savvy Servants were trying to brainstorm a plan, they were at a loss without taking the field themselves. As frustrating as it was, there was little else they could do besides wait for an outcome while monitoring the situation.
Suddenly, one of the monitors flashed red, quickly grabbing Roman’s and Da Vinci’s attention as they both turned to look at the readings. Da Vinci’s eyes scanned the screen, showing the status of Ren’s health – and her eyes narrowed as her smile dropped. “Tropane alkaloids?” she read out loud. “But where would he have-“ Then she recalled a few past chemistry experiments she had done in the past. “Belladonna,” she answered herself in a horrified whisper. “Romani-!“
Roman had already started calling Ren as well as Morgana and Ritsu. The latter two picked up after a few dials. “Er, what’s the panic, doc?” Ritsu asked in concern as Morgana stared quizzically.
“Ren’s been poisoned,” he replied tersely. I’m trying to get into contact with him now.”
Both Ritsu and Morgana’s eyes widened. “He’s been WHAT?!” they simultaneously shouted.
Ignoring both of them for now, Roman continued staring at the dialing screen for Ren. “Please, Ren, pick up,” he murmured desperately. “For fuck’s sake, please pick up…”
----------------------------------------
Ren collapsed with a groan on his bed. His accommodations had been a building well away from the western wall that used to be someone’s house. It wasn’t anything too special – two stories with the basics for a Roman household – but the governor’s house was reserved especially for Nero and her senior officers, while the rest of the army took over the larger compounds and mansions to act as an impromptu barracks. The house was meant for Chaldea, but considering that, aside from Joan, Servants didn’t require much of anything, it was more than enough for him.
Frankly, Ren didn’t mind. With a kitchen and dining room on the first floor with a small living room and the bedrooms upstairs, it surprisingly resembled LeBlanc, albeit smaller. When he first saw it, it caused a pang of homesickness in his heart, then he smiled. Despite everything, he was glad to at least have a tiny reminder of home. In fact, it was pretty cozy. If he could adjust some things and bring certain ingredients and supplies, he could even open up a LeBlanc here.
A LeBlanc in the Roman empire. He wasn’t sure if Sojiro would laugh his head off or just sigh while grumbling about his ridiculousness. Knowing him, probably both. The very thought of it made Ren chuckle to himself in amusement.
Outside, the sun had started to set. Despite the tirelessness of the URE soldiers, their supplies weren’t as equally inexhaustible. Their attack slackened during the afternoon and now, both sides were taking their turns sniping each other or keeping their heads down as they moved supplies in preparation for the next wave.
The Phantom Thief rolled over, grunting in pain as he felt his exhausted circuits throbbed within his body. He had spent most of the day racing to and fro on Cerberus, putting out fires from the flaming pots as well as healing any wounded soldiers he came across. When the battle had slowed, he offered to head to the warehouse that was serving as a sickbay, but again was shooed out – he was already doing a lot and having the soldiers pop back up so quickly would be giving their hand away too soon, they said. And so he was sent packing.
Sighing, he frowned as he stared at the ceiling. The reasons made sense but there was a niggling feeling in the back of his mind. Something wasn’t adding up. It didn’t help that Loki couldn’t figure out those soldiers he sent them to track the other day either. Was he overthinking things?
A knock on the door caught his attention. “One sec,” he called out as he slowly stood up, wincing a bit before shambling over and opening it, finding a Roman soldier holding a tray with a bowl of porridge, cheese, and bread. “Is that for me or is something else going on?” Ren asked in curiosity, leaning on the doorframe.
The soldier grinned. “Indeed, it is,” he confirmed. “We’re extremely thankful for putting out the fires and also for aiding us where you could. Though with how tired you are, I thought you might like dinner brought to you.”
Ren blinked in surprise, then grinned gratefully as he took the tray. “Heh, you didn’t have to, but thanks,” he acknowledged gratefully. “How’s the situation out there?”
The man shook his head. “Tiresome,” he grumbled. “We’re getting more barrels of pitch up to the walls and loading up jars for the onagers to fire back, plus bringing up arrows. All while trying to keep our heads down. My knees are killing me but hey, a battle’s a battle, right?”
The Phantom Thief winced. “That bad, huh?” he commiserated. “It wasn’t all me, though. You guys are doing a great job out there. So long as this keeps up, we’ll easily hold out until backup shows.”
Grinning, the soldier nodded. “That’s the best thing to hear,” he replied cheerfully. “But I’ll leave you to it – don’t want your food getting cold. Have a good rest, centurion.”
“You too,” Ren responded, closing the door as the soldier left. As he recalled, the soldiers were having their meals closer to the western wall so they could be brought up at a moment’s notice. It certainly would’ve been a walk just to grab dinner, admittedly, so it was a nice gesture.
Sitting down, he dug in. Honestly, he was missing the curry and coffee he made all the time, but considering the Romans barely had any spices (and he recalled that spices were incredibly expensive pretty much everywhere in any older time period), he had to make do. Besides, it wasn’t like he could ask Chaldea to just send him the ingredients even if Mash was here. That was just wasteful.
He considered maybe studying the MRE rations and seeing if he could emulate that, then immediately tossed the plan out. As much as he liked the curry, he had standards. Subjecting his beloved curry to such a cruel fate was beyond even his worst. Plus, he was certain Sojiro and Futaba would spontaneously manifest themselves to smack him upside the head for even trying – and honestly, he couldn’t blame them.
As he contemplated, he took a spoonful of the porridge… and noticed something was wrong. It was oddly sweeter than he expected. Did they add some fruit to this? He noticed the darker coloration in his food. But as far as he recalled, fresh fruits weren’t distributed for the soldiers – they were still one of the things Nero reserved almost exclusively for herself. So where did these fruits come from…?
Then his communicator went off. He opened it to see the panicked faces of Roman, Da Vinci, Ritsu, and Morgana. He immediately turned the volume down. “Hey guys, what’s happening?” he asked casually. At the same time, he gave a sharp look at all four of them before glancing in the direction of the door. The message was immediately clear: There may be someone listening.
Roman struggled before forcing himself to calm down and speak in a strained whisper. “You’ve been poisoned, Ren,” he hissed. “Just take deep breaths and stay calm. Your Master uniform has built-in magecraft to deal with toxins and poisons. Recite the aria while activating your circuits and-“ He was interrupted by Da Vinci jabbing him on the shoulder and pointing. They both looked off-screen – and their eyes widened.
Meanwhile, Ritsu and Morgana looked fit to burst. “Ren, are you alright?” Ritsu asked desperately. “Do you feel nauseous or sick or anything? Can you induce vomiting and get it out of your system? O-or maybe, uh, s-sweat it out or something?” With each word, she looked more and more terrified, her face pale and her eyes bulging. Mash wasn’t with her – she most likely hadn’t received the news yet.
Morgana, however, seemed more collected, if only slightly. “Do you have any personas with Me Patra or Amrita Shower, Ren?” he asked worriedly. “They should work to clear out any poisons. We probably need to ask more about this anti-poison system just in case something like this happens again but for now- what are Roman and Da Vinci doing?!”
At the catlike being’s hissed exclamation, they looked toward Roman and Da Vinci, who were still staring off-screen in disbelief. “Your… your tropane alkaloid levels are dropping rapidly,” Roman explained in shock. “From what I can tell from your other readings, it didn’t even affect anything in your body. They’re all just breaking down.” He glanced back over at Ren. “Did you use a persona to cure yourself or something?” he asked.
Blinking in surprise, Ren slowly shook his head. “I haven’t yet,” he murmured. “Is the anti-poison part of the uniform supposed to kick in automatically or something?”
“I should add that function,” Da Vinci mused. “But no, ragazzo, it is not supposed to. I do not know what’s going on, but something seems to be rendering the poison ineffective. We were extremely fortunate.”
“Tell me about it,” Ren muttered. “I’m going to report to Nero about this. She might have an idea what’s happening.”
Roman blinked in surprise. “Wait, wait, you’re going to talk to the emperor?” he asked, flabbergasted. “You don’t think she’s the one behind this? She’s the one with enough pull for this, after all!”
The Phantom Thief immediately shook his head. “Honestly, I suspect Nero the least,” he replied confidently. “Considering how passionate she has been about defending her empire and how well she’s treated us, to turn around and poison us makes no sense. No, I don’t think it was her. She might have some insights.”
The doctor frowned in concern, then nodded. “Alright,” he acceded. “I’ll trust your judgement. Just report back as soon as you can with what’s happening.”
Ren nodded. “Thanks for your concern, all,” he murmured. “I’ll let you know what’s happening in a bit.” With that, he closed the communicator and stood up. He couldn’t help but admit he felt utterly terrified. Someone just tried to poison him, and it was sheer luck it didn’t take. He didn’t know who could be gunning for him – and considering the Roman forces, there were frankly far too many people who would.
“Loki, we have a situation here,” he called out mentally as he stepped out of his room and went downstairs. On the first floor were two soldiers chatting to each other. They turned to him as he stepped down. One of them was the soldier who had brought him his dinner, who grinned broadly. “Going for seconds?” he asked, amused. “Better hurry – the boys seem to be wolfing it down like mad. Guess battle or not, every man’s got his appetite, huh?” He laughed loudly at his own joke.
The Phantom Thief couldn’t help but blink. That… wasn’t the tone or attitude of someone who was trying to poison him – and most importantly, failed. The man felt too genuine to be faking his reaction. Was he simply unaware and was just sent in to deliver a poisoned dinner? To what end?
His train of thought was interrupted as another soldier came up to the door. “Oh, is it time to switch shifts already?” the first soldier asked. “Guess it never ends-GHCK!” Ren whirled in surprise and his eyes widened in horror as the second soldier had snuck up behind his companion and slit his companion’s throat with a dagger. Then he heard the slither of a blade being drawn and rolled aside – barely dodging a gladius that was aimed at his gut.
His heart was beating in his ears as he processed everything that was going on. The one who just killed the first soldier drew his own gladius as the other turned towards him as well. His mind raced as he thought about his options, everything from the Chaldean Arms to his personas. He had numerous ways to take them down, or he could simply just run out the door that was now behind him, but he needed to get to the bottom of this.
And he had just the way to do it.
“Dionysus!” he called out.
In a burst of blue flame, a new persona appeared: A humanoid figure completely covered in a veritable rainbow of colors that was both hypnotic yet nauseating to witness. A red cape draped over his shoulder as a staff hung by a string on his neck. Posing, his white gloved hands were splayed out as, in contrast, his stern face stared down at the two offending assassins, both of whom cried out in shock and collapsed backwards at the presence of a god in their midst.
With a wave of Dionysus’s hand, a wave of purple energy washed over the two soldiers. They stilled, then silently stood back up, their eyes now glowing with a faint purple light. Brain jack – a spell that brainwashes enemies with a moderate chance of succeeding. It was probably one of his least favorite spells – it reminded him far too much of Shido, Yaldabaoth, and Maruki – but it was necessary here. He needed information, and they could give it.
Then his eyes rested on the soldier, gurgling on the ground, and he was shocked out of his contemplation. With a curse, he raced forward as he placed his hands on the man’s neck, trying to staunch the bleeding as he hurriedly switched personas as quickly as possible. Dionysus faded away – though the brainwashing remained – as he called out another persona.
“Atropos!”
The grey-garbed Cutter of the Thread once more appeared. With a mental command, a green glow appeared all around them – Mediarama, a more powerful healing spell that healed multiple targets he wished for. He had long since trained himself to have her heal both himself and his companions, but he could direct at others as well – in this case, the soldier. The wound on the soldier’s throat began rapidly closing… then it stopped. The man was no longer moving.
Ren could only stare, horrified, at the man’s body, then growled as he placed his bloody hands on the man’s chest and began pushing. “Come on, come on,” he snarled desperately as he pounded, trying to restart the man’s heart. As he kept compressing, yet the man remained motionless, his glassy eyes staring up at the ceiling.
Finally, Ren collapsed backward. Adrenaline fading, he was only left feeling like his bones were made of water, hearing his heartbeat gradually slowing down. He leaned himself up against a carved chair and rested his head. Lifting his hand, he stared at the thick blood of the soldier clinging like mud, then slowly turned to look at the brainwashed assassins still standing there. Slowly, he let his hand drop, bouncing against the cold, hard ground, and sagged against the chair.
The siege had only just begun.