The sun broke over the horizon, greeting the land with a new dawn. Orange rays of sunlight peeked through, washing over the fertile lands of Gaul and shining upon the drab walls of the fortress. The armor of the United Roman Empire soldiers tirelessly patrolling the walls glinted with the morning sun, an awesome display of power and strength even at a distance. The fortress stood as a solid stone monolith against all the world, a pillar of strength that looked like it would last forever.
In contrast, as the morning greeted the Romans, the sunlight peered through broken holes in tents and illuminated the ruined palisade that surrounded the camp. Grumbling could be heard from within as soldiers woke up from their bedrolls, switching with their comrades who had gotten the night shift. The night had passed by for the Romans with a restless peace, who didn’t have further orders save to reinforce and repair the camp how they could, train, and prepare breakfast.
Throughout it all, a redheaded girl jogged around the outer edge of the camp. She breathed easily as her boots met the damp dirt underneath her, the warmth of her workout easily beating the morning chill. Being able to move like this was a blessing and honestly, she should’ve done this sooner. Her legs felt a bit better thanks to the massage from Tamamo yesterday, and frankly it just felt liberating being able to run.
Of course, aside from some morning exercise to wake up, the jog served another purpose. Sweeping her gaze over the camp as she ran, she observed the condition of the camp and the soldiers as she passed by. “Morning!” she called out cheerfully as she passed by a pack of soldiers. “Working hard or hardly working?” The soldiers looked over at her. Some had an expression of exasperation and exhaustion, and some had an expression of annoyance. After a moment, they simply returned to their business. None of them bothered returning her greeting.
Ritsu puffed as she continued running. That was about what she expected. While the soldiers with Nero at least had a bit of cheer to them, everyone here was morose. And frankly, who could blame them? Their conditions sucked, they were close to nothing but catastrophic defeat and honestly, it’d take a miracle to win. A miracle they had to provide.
Sure, no pressure.
“What’s good topside?” Ritsu hollered at a sentry who was watching over the walls.
The sentry turned and glared at Ritsu. She quickly noticed that it was the same one who had accosted them at the gate the other day. “Don’t get chummy with me,” he snarled. “I know your plan and I’ll be keeping my eye on you. You can’t trust a damn enemy of Rome, after all, especially when they say they’ll fight for your side. Pah, who’d ever believe such bullcrap anyway?”
The Master blinked in surprise, stopping. “Are you talking about Boudica?” she asked.
Once more, the glare trained back on Ritsu. “What the hell do you think?!” he snapped. “You and that damn rebel as well. Foreigners and traitors, the lot of you. The Empire should be won back by damn Romans, not you lot. I’ll be watching all of you for when you backstab us, mark my words.”
Ritsu merely gave a very unimpressed stare at the soldier. “Yeah, good talking to you too,” she replied flatly. “Freaking dingleberry,” she muttered as she continued running. Still, as much as she wanted to ignore it, she couldn’t help but admit that many of the soldiers in the camp were taking a very similar stance towards all of them. The sentry was the most vocal, but she knew it was a common sentiment.
She had to sigh. As if things weren’t difficult enough already.
After a few laps, she stopped, sweat dripping down her forehead. Wiping it away with a sleeve, she looked around. Most of the soldiers were still going about their business, though some gave a few wary glances at her. Most likely they thought she was some sort of spy – and given she hadn’t exactly been the most subtle in observing them, she couldn’t exactly blame them.
A cool breeze blew by, cooling her sweat and leaving her feeling refreshed. It was a nice feeling overall. The only thing that would make it better was if there was a nice, hot shower, but no such luxury here. Well, she’d have to content herself with a wipedown with a hot towel later. In the meantime, she began making her way back to the tent, stretching her arms behind her back.
“It is good to see you training! You must always be fit to fight against oppression!”
Ritsu blinked as she turned to see Spartacus grinning down at her. She suppressed a shiver down her back. The guy was creepy as hell but he didn’t have that… feeling she got around either Loki or Beryl. Chances were good that he was just really, really, REALY intense. Probably. Maybe. Maybe not. She was definitely keeping Boudica’s warning in mind, however.
“Hey, big guy,” she greeted cordially. “You know what they say: sound body, sound mind. What about you? What kind of workouts do you do to get ripped like that?” She nodded at his muscles in reference. Creepy or not, the guy was built like a brick house. He was a bit too muscular for her liking – she preferred leaner types like Cuchulainn or especially Ren – but she couldn’t argue that he was fit as all get out. Perhaps she could get a tip or two from him…?
With a grin, the former gladiator flexed his muscles proudly. “My strength comes from my will to destroy all oppressors and oppression!” he boomed. “The fire within builds my body and nourishes me, allowing me to grow even stronger! For when it comes to oppression, one can never be strong enough. But I shall match it no matter what form it takes! Do you wish to seek strength to destroy oppression as well, my comrade-in-arms?”
The Master forced a smile as she held up her hands in surrender. “Er, maybe another time,” she replied. Honestly, she should’ve expected that his answer would’ve been completely inapplicable to her, but it was worth a shot, right? Still, her smile relaxed a bit as she glanced up at the Berserker. “Your dedication to fighting against oppression is kinda ridiculously cool, though,” she commented. “You kinda remind me of… uh… some people I deeply respect.”
Spartacus stared down closer at Ritsu, forcing the girl to lean back slightly. “What?!” he roared. “There exists another that seeks to fight oppression?! I must ask you to tell me! Who are these bravest and noblest of warriors?! Any who seeks to oppose oppression must have their name and creed roared to the very heavens for all to hear!”
Ritsu opened her mouth, closed it, then a wry smile appeared on her face. ‘ Sorry guys,’ she thought cheekily. ‘But it’s your fault you’re both so awesome.’
“Have you heard of the Phantom Thieves?”
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The halls of Chaldea were quiet. Aside from the whirr of robots passing by or the lone footsteps of a staff member in the distance, there wasn’t much in terms of sound. Lining one side of the hall were large windows that showed the frigid Antarctic landscape. A cold blizzard blew fiercely, contrasting to the serene, warm environment within. It was both calming yet desolate at the same time.
Jeanne walked through the hall, staring at the snow. She was no stranger to it – she could still remember the cold winters she passed with her family – but this was different altogether. For her, snow and winter were times she huddled together with her family, telling stories to her siblings and praying as the fireplace blazed merrily. On Sundays, they would go to service and catch up with their neighbors. She still remembered the feel of snowballs in her hands and against her face. Though cold and inhospitable, the snow and winter seemed to have a way of bringing people together.
This snow, however, was different. It felt less like a natural phenomenon and more His wrath. No, she shouldn’t think of it like that – this was the natural environment of this place, after all. It was perhaps closer to say that such harshness was His design. And even then, life could still survive and adapt, so gifted they were by His grace. She had to admit, the penguins Marie had shown her were quite adorable.
She had to smile. His wonders never ceased, did they?
Turning, she noticed a door open in the hallway as she walked. Stepping closer, the saint peered in out of curiosity. Within was a conference room, with a singular rectangular table surrounded by chairs. On the far side against a white backdrop was a projection of a map, with drawings and shapes marked. Jeanne couldn’t immediately tell what it was a map of – she’d have to take a closer look. But that wasn’t what drew her attention.
Instead, her eyes rested on the sole person in the room: Artoria. In her hand was a tablet and a stylus, which she used to move the shapes or draw and erase as necessary. She had dispelled her armor, allowing her bare hand to more easily utilize both tools, but her focus was entirely on the map and drawings. It definitely something she hadn’t expected whatsoever.
As soon as she stepped into the room, Artoria glanced over in surprise. “Ah, Jeanne,” she greeted. “I hadn’t expected to see you. How do you fare?”
The saint smiled in response and bowed. “Quite well, thank you, Artoria,” she replied. It was odd addressing the mythical King Arthur on such casual terms, but she had insisted on not using any formal means of address or titles. As far as she was concerned, it wasn’t a meeting between a king and a saint, but rather merely two peers speaking with one another. “You seemed preoccupied in your study,” she remarked, looking at the map.
Artoria shook her head. “It’s no study,” she clarified. “Master Fujimaru has sent us a mission update regarding her situation.” Adjusting the stylus in her grip, she aimed the butt of it and pressed a button, shooting off a tiny red pointer light at the map. Jeanne watched as the red dot illuminated each area with curiosity. Although the Grail had provided her with knowledge of modern technology, witnessing it in person was still an experience.
“The United Roman Empire’s forces are holed up in a fortress here,” the Saber explained, circling around some drawings on what looked to be a large hill. “Current estimates are approximately a thousand men, plus Julius Caesar. Their fortifications are strong, and they have plenty of weaponry and supplies. Food, water, morale, and energy are no concerns of theirs as they are once more utilizing those artificial soldiers.”
Jeanne frowned as she took a seat at the table, following Artoria’s explanation. “I still find it incredibly hard to believe,” she murmured. “When I marched with the French army, their appetite for food and ale was voracious. I recall many arguments and negotiations over who would take what shift for night watches. There were also many prayer sessions to reaffirm faith in the Lord. This almost feels… well… unfair.”
Artoria nodded. “As far as a war goes, they hold a massive advantage,” she agreed. “They’ve also been receiving regular reinforcements as well as what few supplies needed such as arrows, equipment, and rations for the officers.” She circled an arrow that led to the fortress. “Theoretically, as things stand, they can hold out almost indefinitely, or at the very least remain in a much, much better condition than any offensive forces.”
“And speaking of offensive forces,” she continued as she pointed to a cluster of shapes a distance away. “This is where the Roman army is stationed. From what Fujimaru reported, they are led by the queen of Iceni, Boudica, as well as the rebel gladiator Spartacus. They number fifteen hundred, down from the five thousand that was their original force. Their supplies are running low, with only a pitiful resupply that came with us, and morale is incredibly low, with no small number of defections.”
The more Jeanne heard, the more her jaw dropped. “That’s… how…?” she asked breathlessly.
“A large combination of factors,” Artoria summed up grimly. “Not least of which is Caesar’s oration and leadership. He has apparently considerably undermined the Romans’ efforts to take the castle with ease. Retreat isn’t viable, so in short, the Roman army is stuck between a hammer and anvil with no easy escape.”
Jeanne blinked again, trying to process how dire the situation was. “And you are trying to find a way?” she asked.
Artoria nodded once more. “Indeed,” she confirmed. “After hearing of the scenario, I have been trying to devise some counterstrategy to defeat Caesar and take the fortress. I have a few ideas but unfortunately, they are all hindered by the Romans’ lack of supplies and low morale.” She glanced over at the saint. “Do you know much of military strategy?” she asked.
The saintess blinked, then shook her head. “Ah, no,” she responded ruefully. “I’m unfortunately unversed when it comes to the intricacies of war. The generals were the ones who crafted strategy and consulted with me. Many of my victories were won through a combination of battle and luck. I don’t believe that would be a viable method here, however.” She finished with a small laugh, scratching her cheek. She recalled that many of her plans were basically ‘charge straight at the enemy and work from there.’ It surprisingly worked – until it didn’t.
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The Saber seemed unbothered by the answer as she nodded again. “That’s fine,” she reassured her. “Perhaps another perspective is what is needed here. There is something here we can utilize, I’m simply at a loss as to what it is.” She frowned as she turned back to the map. There were quite a few pieces in play here – the forces and circumstances on both sides, the strengths and weaknesses of the Servants, the battlefield itself…
“Consider this a theoretical scenario,” Jeanne spoke up, staring up at the map. “If the Romans were to engage the fortress directly, what would be the result?”
“Complete and utter defeat,” Artoria immediately answered. “The URE forces could easily respond any number of ways. To start with, they would have war machines such as onagers and scorpions easily mounted on the walls that could wreak havoc. They are located on a large hill with strong walls, meaning scaling them would be immensely difficult, and thus they would be funneled towards the front gate – leaving the Roman forces easily focused and routed.”
As Artoria spoke, she outlined each and every point on the map, either drawing it or using the laser pointer. “Not to mention,” she continued. “They don’t have the numbers or strength to easily surround the fortress, meaning they could also easily sally out and slam into a flank. And this is further assuming they don’t simply dig in their heels and just defend, thus inevitably winning by attrition. To sum it up, a headlong assault cannot be done.”
Throughout the king’s lecture, Jeanne narrowed her eyes as her frown grew deeper, studying the map carefully. Both women knew that such a plan was beyond idiotic, but sometimes even the worst plans could reveal some detail they had missed, or at least narrow down what is the most troublesome factor that needed to be dealt with. “What about the strengths of the Servants?” the saint asked.
Artoria frowned. “Therein lies the unknown factor,” she mused. Switching to a new window, she pulled up notes she had written down in her research. “On the Romans’ side, there is Mash Kyrielight, Tamamo-no-Mae, Boudica, and Spartacus,” she listed out. “Among the URE forces stationed here, presumably there is only Julius Caesar. No doubt Boudica or Spartacus would have informed Master Fujimaru if there were any other Servants.”
Jeanne blinked. “Then at least we hold the numerical advantage, no?” she asked. “And as far as I’m aware, both Boudica and Spartacus are capable combatants, and Tamamo-no-Mae’s magecraft is not to be underestimated. And of course, Mash’s skills are rapidly developing. They should be able to defeat Caesar, should they not?”
“They should,” Artoria agreed. “However, there is one issue: his class.”
The saint blinked. “His class?” she echoed.
The Saber nodded as she pointed out some notes she took of the man. “As you can see here,” she explained. “Julius Caesar was a remarkable general and administrator. Skilled in warfare and politics alike, he was the reason Rome was no longer a republic but an empire. However, throughout my research, there’s one key thing I noticed: He has no legends or tales of actually fighting.”
The saint’s eyes widened in realization. “Then… what class would he qualify as?” she asked.
Artoria breathed a sigh of frustration. “That is a good question,” she muttered. “By my estimation, without any mention of his martial prowess or some legendary mount, he is unlikely to be one of the knight classes or a Rider. The fact that his presence is known would exclude the possibility of an Assassin – though it would truly be ironic if he was one. He wasn’t a mage or even a spellcaster, so we can write off Caster. And that leaves…”
“Berserker,” Jeanne finished for her. However, she didn’t seem convinced. “But he has proven himself with his oration abilities that he still is in control of his faculties, does he not? I find it hard to believe that he would be a Berserker.”
“Berserkers are not all utterly mad,” Artoria pointed out. “We have both met Kiyohime and Spartacus is among our allies. And from what Morgana reported, Tamamo Cat is a Berserker as well, yet all three were fairy lucid overall.” That said, even the Saber didn’t seem particularly convinced by that reasoning, staring hard at her notes and considering the scenario in her mind. Something was missing or off here, she felt, and to proceed without resolving that would be folly.
With a sigh, she set down her tablet and stylus. “We require more information,” she concluded. “Especially about Caesar. I will contact Fujimaru. Would you like to come, Jeanne?”
Jeanne considered for a second, then shook her head. “No, I will remain here for now,” she replied with a soft smile. “I wish to consider the map and the notes further. Perhaps there was something we both missed.”
Artoria nodded in understanding. “Very well,” she accepted. “Then I shall see you later.” With that, she turned and walked off, turning into a shower of golden light before vanishing, leaving the Ruler sitting by herself in the conference room.
The Ruler turned back to look at the notes and the map. Taking hold of the tablet and stylus, she began brainstorming herself. Much as she believed in Him, he wouldn’t be able to help here. It was all up to them.
And this entire situation would definitely require a miracle.
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“Welcome back. I hope you are all well rested?”
Boudica looked over at the three girls standing around the table in the command tent with her. Ritsu Fujimaru had dark shadows under her eyes but had a bright smile regardless. Right beside the girl was Mash, occasionally shooting worried glances over at her Master but otherwise made no outright comment. On the other side of the table from them was the Caster Servant, who seemed impassive if not for the fact that her tail was swishing impatiently from side to side.
It was only the four of them in the command tent. Any officers that normally would be privy to their plans had either died or defected, or at the very least had proven themselves to be ultimately untrustworthy. The last thing she needed was an officer taking her plans and immediately running to Caesar with them. After a second loss from such a defection, she learned not to leave anything to chance.
As for Spartacus, while he was good at tactics, his madness precluded him from really helping with some stratagem beyond ‘destroy the oppressors’. At least the Berserker was well aware of his limitations and was off either patrolling, training the soldiers, or keeping a surprisingly quiet vigilance around the camp. As exasperating as it was to deal with him at times, the Rider found him a surprisingly dependable ally when push came to shove – so long as the push came from the right place, anyway.
Ritsu grinned in response and waved. “Eh, sleeping on hard ground never gets any easier,” she replied easily. “But other than that, I slept like a baby. If anything, I couldn’t wait to get to planning! After all, we got a helluva all-star group here!”
“Is that so,” Boudica replied with a small chuckle. “I thank you for your confidence.” Despite that, her sharp eyes glanced at the other two. Neither Mash nor Tamamo seemed to particularly share her confidence. If anything, they looked more worried and annoyed than before, respectively. She sensed it was less from disloyalty and more concern, but until it disrupted the fragile unity they had, it wasn’t her business to interfere.
“But anyway, let’s get the show on the road,” Ritsu exclaimed, clapping her hands for emphasis. “Out of curiosity, were you guys able to find out what class Caesar is? It’d be easier to plan if we knew, after all.”
The Rider blinked, then sighed. “Unfortunately, no,” she admitted. “We have not seen Caesar in the front lines and so we don’t have a particular measure of how he fights. All he has done is make speeches – which frankly has been far more effective than any weapon or martial skill so far.”
The Master considered. “So, suppose all four of you decide to just bumrush the fortress and take him out,” she mused, glancing at the Servants in the room. “It’s not like those Roman terminators would be able to really stop you guys, right? It would certainly expedite things. Take him out, then be back before lunchtime.”
Caster’s tail swished in annoyance. “Master, you know better than most that that would be a most foolhardy plan,” she admonished. “A Servant could have any number of abilities, and for someone as famed as the Roman emperor Julius Caesar, he would be a formidable foe. To go against him without knowing of his capabilities would most likely end up in our defeat, our greater numbers notwithstanding.”
“Not to mention,” Boudica added. “Even if he’s not able to defeat all of us, he would most likely have the capability of delaying us, while his other soldiers sally out and attack the remaining Romans while we’re occupied. The soldiers here wouldn’t last – it would be an immediate rout. Even if we won, it’d be at best a pyrrhic victory.”
Ritsu blew out a breath. “Right, scratch that, then,” she muttered. She knew it wouldn’t be easy but frankly, she was throwing stuff at a wall and seeing what stuck. Ultimately, it was like what Artoria had said when she contacted her: They needed to know what Caesar’s class was and what he could do. Otherwise, they were stuck in a rut. If they had Jing Ke, perhaps she would’ve been able to scout him out – or hell, maybe even eliminate him altogether. This definitely seemed like her specialty.
Immediately, she cursed herself. Why the hell didn’t she think about bringing Jing Ke with her?! The whole situation was practically custom-built for her! She put a mental note to contact Ren and see if the emperor could spare the Assassin. In such a scenario, it’d be the smart thing to do. Hell, at this rate, it might be the only thing they could do. All they needed to do was maybe hold out a few days, and then they’d be able to-
“Enemy sighted!” came a shout from outside the tent. “It's Caesar!!”
Boudica scowled. “Of course he wouldn’t pass up this opportunity,” she growled. “You guys better come with me so you have a better idea of who and what you’re dealing with.” With that, she marched out of the tent with an expression of pure frustration and anger etched onto her normally fair features. The Chaldeans looked at each other before quickly following.
Climbing up the palisade, they had a clear view of the walls. It was distant but there were details one could make out. However, Ritsu had to squint her eyes to see. While her eyesight wasn’t horrible, trying to see this far was demanding. The most he could pick out was some sort of red dot on top of the battlements.
“Senpai? Here.”
Glancing over, the redhead noticed that Mash was holding out a pair of binoculars for her. With a grin, she gratefully accepted them. “What would I do without you, Mashumallow?” she remarked. The shielder turned red for a split second before nodding with a smile, then turned back to the wall. Ritsu had to chuckle to herself. Mash never stopped being adorable in her eyes.
Getting back on topic, she lifted the binoculars to her eyes and looked. It took a bit of orientation and adjusting to get a clear view, but soon she could see the URE soldiers lining the walls. She could even see their eyeless faces, which only sent shivers down her spine. Frankly, they wouldn’t look too out of place in a horror game with how uncanny they looked. They even acted like horror game monsters too, with how… mechanical they were. Moving the binoculars over, she quickly found her mark.
And could only feel her jaw drop at what she saw.
Standing there was a large man, and not large in the same way Spartacus was. She would consider him fat if it weren’t for the fact that she could also see his broad shoulders and powerful-looking arms. In short, the man was stout in the same way a lumberjack was. In short, not someone Ritsu would want to mess with, Servant or no.
Aside from his body figure, everything about the man radiated authority: His rich red coat that shone brightly in the morning sun, the laurel that rested on top of his brown hair, and his piercing eyes as he looked towards the camp. Though he had a face that looked accustomed to smiling and laughing, his lips were pressed in a grim line as he picked up an object. Wait, was that a microphone?
“That’s Julius Caesar?!” Ritsu squawked before she could stop herself. She had seen portrayals of Caesar before. The statues and other records always showed him as a lean, strong looking man. Hell, she honestly had thought he was what would happen if you took an eagle’s appearance and translated it to human features. She hadn’t expected that the Servant would be quite so… well, pudgy.
But everything, from his regal demeanor to his fashion to his power… there was no mistaking any of it.
She watched as the Roman emperor lifted the microphone to his face. “ My fellow Romans,” his voice boomed out. “ I salute all of you for fighting and lasting so valiantly to this day. Your loyalty is what makes the pride of the Roman Empire. Without your bravery, your dignity, and your strength, it would crumble. Any emperor would truly be blessed to have such capable individuals fighting with and alongside them.”
“Here I stand now as your opponent,” he continued. “ And full well I know that you are all formidable enemies. For how are you not? Once more, you are proud Romans, fighting for your home and for the glory of the empire. Leaving your homes and all you have known behind to fight against your countrymen, with no guarantee that you shall be victorious? Brave soldiers, you are to be commended.”
Ritsu noticed all around them that the soldiers were shifting uncomfortably, muttering among themselves, and felt a shiver down her spine. Even from here, the emperor’s words had a powerful, magnetic draw to them. She certainly started feeling guilty for dragging all these soldiers so far to fight in a distant campaign, one where they possibly would never return from. After all, how many of these soldiers had also seen their own comrades fall or worse, in some distant land where they were all alone-
The Master immediately shook her head and caught herself. She knew how those thoughts could spiral, but the fact that Caesar could cause such a thing to happen so easily was dangerous. She glanced at Mash and Tamamo. Both of them were listening as well, with the shielder looking more and more concerned while the Caster had her arms crossed, frowning. Looking over, she noticed that Boudica was gritting her teeth. She was trying to find some way to refute the emperor, but there was currently no way to do so without indirectly insulting the soldiers as well.
“ There is one more thing the empire prizes above all, however, ” Caesar continued. “ And it is resourcefulness. Strength may be found and gained from all corners of the world – such is the empire’s reach and is its greatest asset. Inducting foreigners as auxiliaries and learning from them has always been a trademark of our glory, and it proves no different now! I can see among you new recruits! They are powerful, intelligent figures that may turn the tide of battle! No doubt they would rise high in the empire when all is resolved!”
Blinking in surprise, she was alarmed when she heard the angry grumbling among the soldiers get even louder. She remembered the words of the sentry earlier, decrying them for being foreigners and traitors, and gulped. They just got an even bigger target pinned on their backs now. She’ll have to ask Tamamo for some protective bounded fields tonight. No way in hell would she be comfortable without them now.
“ It pains me that I must fight my own brave, loyal countrymen, ” he said, the grief in his tone clear. “ But rest assured, I have no intention of pillaging or raiding your homes and despoiling the people. I simply wish to bring the empire back to its full might. Proud soldiers of Rome, I know you fight for the same cause! Know that we both fight for the same reasons! Thus, I only ask this of you: Do what gives you pride in the end! What will allow you to stand tall and declare yourself that you are Roman! No less! Never let anyone take that from you!”
A few of the men within the Roman camp started cheering as Caesar stepped away, only to be violently stopped. However, the damage was done as the soldiers witnessed the violence of their disciplinary officers. Worst off, Boudica was at a loss for words, gripping the palisade so tightly that the wood started cracking under her white-knuckled grip. After all, how could she, the queen of Iceni of all people, retort?
“That was Julius Caesar?” Mash commented quietly to Ritsu as the army tried to restore order. “He’s… different in appearance, but otherwise, he seems formidable.”
“That’s putting it lightly, Mash,” the Master replied grimly. She had to amend her plans – they couldn’t wait for Jing Ke, not when betrayal and defeat were so imminent.
“We’re in seriously deep shit.”