Chapter Text
Having grabbed the Wyvern's attention, Saber's next course of action is to bring said Grimm as far away from the populace as it can. Grimm were still spawning from the large beast but with the absence of civilians around, there was no worry for the King of Vale. Still, he might as well make it easier for his people. Each Grimm that had spawned were quickly dealt with.
I will not let you destroy my kingdom any more than you already have, he thought. Now that he was a Servant, he was, in some way, free from the curse of the Brothers that have made Remnant, the same ones that bestowed this curse upon on him. It really had been a gamble. A gamble paid off but still a gamble. He wasn't sure what his Master would have done if it had failed. No wait, he does. He would have summoned someone else for it, probably Gilles.
In life, or rather, in another one, past or future, depending on one's point of reference, Saber had been the King of Vale during one of the harshest periods of Remnant's history: The Great War. It had been a time of great strife and pain. At first, Saber had thought that Salem must have had some way to bring back magic into Remnant what with the information and destruction that he had heard then. It was only by chance that he had learned that it wasn't quite the case.
It began as simple rumor. Making use of that cult that he had built so long ago, he spread the idea that the King of Vale was the reincarnating Infinite Man. Simple enough since he had allies that know the truth and that it technically was; it was only a matter of spreading that into the populace. A legend that he had made for himself. If it were any other time, he would have hesitated in becoming a god among men again. However, this wasn't one of those times. For the sake of Remnant's people, he will take that mantle again. Saber even had traces of Divinity reflecting that.
Gilles had scoffed at Remnant's magic, claiming to have seen magecraft of greater scales than this. At first, Saber thought that it must have been a joke. However, as groups of spawning Grimm were deleted by the bursts of energy that Saber released from his own sword, he could not help but agree. Not even the full magic that he had could match this. Not even the aura slashes that huntsmen and huntresses could do could match this. The magecraft of that other world must have been something else. Or perhaps, was it simply a product of his legend? Ever does it become grander in scale before one looks into the numbers. Perhaps it was with the hindsight of today's technology and advancement that such things seemed grander in scale.
As for the identity of the others in that Grail War? Saber had never learned of that in life; the only thing that he was certain of was that Salem had lost during that Grail War, ironically by her own hand with Gilles' betrayal. There had been talk about a great battle that had occurred at sea but most dismissed it. It was in the open waters, away from any of the kingdoms that served no strategic purpose. That didn't stop the passing ships from talking, though. Much like himself, Salem had been ignorant of it at the time as well, stripping her own Servant of some kind of spell book which had changed Gilles significantly into the Saber-class despite still being a Caster, however that works.
It took time for Gilles to realize it then, but when he did, his betrayal of his Master had been an opportunity that Saber would not let go. The two confronted the terrible monster that Salem had tried to correct with her own variation and while that hadn't been quite as successful as he had hoped, the one thing that was guaranteed was that Salem had lost the Grail War and thus lost her chance of whatever terrible wish she wanted. No. It wouldn't have been a terrible wish. But it was a wish that she would have sought no matter how many lives would be lost along the way.
This time, however, he thought. She must have understood just what she could accomplish. Saber kept running. The sooner he gets to finish the battle here, the sooner that they could begin their counterattack in the shadows. Whether she really had been chosen this time or not, Salem would find a way to be involved in this Grail War. He was certain that she doesn't intend to lose again.
Saber slashed through the hordes of spawning Grimm. These ones didn't come from the Wyvern but were charging into Vale from outside. The Wyvern was still following him from behind. Everything about Saber had been increased than it had been while he had been alive in any lifetime. His strength, speed, agility, endurance, everything about his current status as a Servant had been of greater scales than he had in any life. Feats that have been enhanced by legend and rumor that he had to make for himself.
Checking himself, Saber nodded. The drain on his Master's aura wasn't too drastic yet. There was a greater drain, certainly in this distance. But he could manage it well enough. He wasn't planning on leaving the capital anyway. It should be fine enough.
I really cannot thank you enough, Gilles. Since then, Saber had been making his own preparations since the Grail War, for one reason or another, now exists on Remnant. He needed to ready himself on the chance that he would become this Master in any of his succeeding lives. To think it would come so soon after his time as the King of Vale was both a blessing and curse: did he have enough time to build his own legend? Could he even summon himself since he was technically still alive even though so few people would know about the true nature of the King of Vale? Having manifested now, Saber can certainly say that it paid off.
Rising to the top of the building, Saber turned around to face the Wyvern. The large Grimm was slow in its approach. Though it might have been swift to anyone else, it was most certainly not the case when compared to Saber. It wasn't as nimble either.
"Now then," Saber said. "A strange name indeed but perhaps it has something to do with that faraway place that Gilles mentioned." He closed his eyes and readied himself. It was time to unleash that other thing he could do. Infinite Man may be similar, but it wasn't as flashy. Thusly, he declared, "Noble Phantasm."
Saber's sword then begun to emit a powerful light of green at his declaration. Unlike the others before it, this one was constantly emitting said light. A powerful force was behind it as well for the winds were visibly circling around the blade going past the tip of the blade like a forming tornado. Saber had to raise his blade high in the air to avoid damaging the ground and the walls that the blade was pointing towards. There is no chance that there aren't any witnesses here. Even being this far from the populace, the green light that was emitting from Saber's sword was far too visible and the still standing structures of Vale could do little to keep it hidden.
Both of his hands gripped the blade tightly. Saber's right foot slid back along with the sword that was still overhead. Saber was readying himself for an overhead swing. The Grimm Wyvern, either too ignorant or too proud, kept charging at him. The Grimm roared in protest against the light of the King of Vale.
"Though you are not the breath of that planet, still do you bear its name. It's legacy and majesty..."
The gales of winds intensified. The light grew brighter and harsher. It was as if a green day had arrived on this side of Vale. This will be it, otherwise, it will drain too much of his Master's aura. He would have to dematerialize just to conserve it soon after.
"…just as you have ended the Great War, I call upon you to end all strife and bring peace!"
The winds stopped and the light straightened and solidified like a towering pillar. For the King of Vale, if there was one thing that could be said to be the crystallization of his legend it would be when he had ended the Great War. The sword fell and the great power that came from it struck the Grimm. Though it did not bear the name of the Relic, it carried its destructive power here, mixed into it was an image of a sword of a King of Knights.
"For Remnant! Vytal Calibur!"
A deafening noise was heard that anyone nearby would have lost their hearing as the absolute surge of energy released from Saber's sword shone brightly and harshly. To say nothing of the heat emanating from it would be a crime. Empty and abandoned structures didn't so much burn so much as they had vanished completely; there was no trace of anything in its path, not even ashes. The Wyvern cried out for only moment before being erased from all existence.
The bright green colors spread out. This time, without any doubt, Saber's presence had been witnessed. Whether such news would reach the other kingdoms is beyond him. The CCT Tower was down so it was unlikely. The only reprieve that Saber has for his Master was that no one would believe what the witnesses had just seen. In times to come perhaps, they would simply think of this moment as mass hallucination.
"Heh." Saber shook his head. "I'll have to make sure that time will come at all." That had been his wish since he had been entrusted by the Brothers; that wish hadn't changed from when he had met his Master.
The light soon faded. It didn't last long but it felt like it kept going for hours even long after the Grimm had vanished. There was still some light coming from his sword but that too slowly faded and the sword in Saber's hands was nothing more than a mere sword in appearance, albeit a little ornamental in its design and not the kind that one would reasonably carry into combat unless there was no other weapon to take.
"Now then," Saber said. He didn't have much time left and he was certain that Ozpin would be vulnerable with so little reserves left. "Time to observe if there were any other Masters that might have shown up by now." After a few minutes of waiting and scanning the area. "Ah, there is one."
A pillar of light, smaller from his point of view, was visible from a distance. If Saber were to guess, that place would be either close or just the edges of the evacuations that are being conducted for the people who were close to Beacon Academy. If it were any of the students or the faculty, it would certainly make his and his Master's job easier. There was no need to involve civilians in this.
"I should have asked Gilles for the method of transferring Command Spells," Saber said to himself. There were many things that he had learned about during his life. Things that still retained even the succeeding life that he had as the King of Vale. Then again, perhaps it would be too much to ask Gilles. That man has already done enough.
Saber descended from the rooftops. There was a crack on the ground as he landed. It wasn't a soft landing by any means but he was unharmed. The body of a Servant is most certainly different from a living one. With Ozpin as his Master, Saber had a means of comparisons of the circumstances. The aura reserves were starting to stretch thin but there was no danger anymore, not one that Ozpin couldn't handle anyway. He had his allies and his circle of this incarnation at his side.
Rather than quickly make his return to his Master's side, Saber had opted to look around him. Namely, the kingdom of Vale whose huntsman academy he would become the headmaster of. It was strange really, he knew what the kingdom of Vale would look like, he would reincarnate into the headmaster of Beacon Academy after all, it was still a rather strange feeling seeing it knowing that the eyes on his being wasn't exactly the same pair of eyes that had seen the kingdom.
When he had been first summoned, it was a surreal experience for both Servant and Master. Despite the preparations that have been made, it wasn't something that they—or is it he—had expected to actually work. They both certainly thought that Ozpin would get someone else instead or an ally that he hadn't seen in a long time. Long Memory had been tailor-made in this instance just to make sure that it was him, coincidental though it may be.
Looking at his hands, the hands of a face that had once had, there was a strange nostalgia to it. Saber could still remember the time he had this face. His first reincarnation from before everything went downhill. Both he and Salem had lived as gods for the people and had the most luxurious of lives by the standards even of today.
His fingers traced the walls of the building closest to him. How much liveliness had been had in this structure? Was it someone's home? Business? It was hard to tell. Much of what was inside had been destroyed and abandoned. Looking further, Saber wouldn't be surprised if this had been looted. If it hadn't, it probably would be in the days to come.
His hand clenched into a fist. This was his kingdom. This was the home that he had made. While he would eventually go and create the four Academies across all the kingdoms of Remnant, Vale had a special place in his heart. To see it destroyed and ruined was heartbreaking.
All for what? A power that Cinder should have known would have been worthless in the end? She would one day be old and die even if she managed to overcome every obstacle in her path. That is not even assuming the Grail War that she is now a part of.
Something had gotten his attention. Saber quickly slashed against a distant Seer Grimm.
"So, you've been watching, have you, my dear?" Saber said. "Fine. Know that there are only two ways this will end." Given Ozpin and Salem's circumstances, Saber firmly believes that the Grail War could only ever come to the two of them.
"For the kingdom of Vale," Saber added. "For Remnant, this will be the last battle that we will fight, my dear. I and my Master will make sure of it. One way or another, this conflict of ours will come to an end."
The words never reached Salem on the account of the Seer Grimm having been slain. However, there was a chance that Salem had another somewhere in the distance, kept far away enough that they could still gather information. He had been proven right when he saw a balloon-like figure move into hiding in the shadows of the forests outside the borders of the kingdom.
Saber's sword dematerialized and he followed suit, returning to his Master. His aura was low enough that he would have been forced to if he hadn't.
/-/
In the castles of Evernight, Salem was musing at the sight that she had just witnessed through the Seer Grimm before it had been mercilessly cut down by the opposing Servant.
"How long has it been since I saw that face?" She mused. There was a nostalgia to it, reminiscing those days when she had been ignorant. "A bit poor in taste, isn't it, Ozma? Or Saber now I suppose."
Her hand hovered over her book. It was true. Back during what had come to be known as the Great War, Salem had been ignorant of the ways of the Grail War. All she knew at the time was that three marks appeared on her hand one day and she managed to summon her own Caster. Her Servant at the time had a book in his hand that was of great interest to her and is as far as she went.
"I was the first to lose too," she said out loud. "I wonder what the wish the winner had made that time?"
"Perhaps it has something to do with the other one, Master." Ah yes. Her Servant, Caster as well, this time. When those same marks had appeared on her hand, she made sure to do it right this time. She had a catalyst as well: her version of the original book that she had taken. Distant as it was from the original, it was still mostly connected to Gilles de Rais.
When the ritual had finished, there he was again. Bearing that same face as the Caster she had in the last war. However, rather than those robes that he initially came with, he had worn the armor that he had on him after the book had been taken away from him. When he had introduced himself, he claims that he is not the same as the Caster that she had known. Despite the name, his hair wasn't blue and he most certainly didn't have a beard; he had a clean shave.
Salem looked to her surroundings before addressing her Servant. There was no one else there but she didn't want to take any chances. Not everyone needed to see what Caster could do. "Caster. How was the book I lent you?"
Caster, the current one, scoffed as he slammed the book closed. "He sought redemption and foolishly believed that he could be saved. He sought salvation through killing evil when such atrocities are the very salvation that he seeks."
Salem rolled her eyes. Compared to Gilles de Rais, the Caster before her now, Bluebeard, was certainly more ecstatic to death compared to the individual that he claims to be the inspiration for his creation. He takes pleasure in death and suffering as though it was his life's callings, brides in particular.
She could still remember that grin he had when she asked him if he could kill her, immortality and all. He had brought her to his Red Room and she couldn't remember the number of hours it took for them to realize that it wouldn't work that way. Her eyes trailed the marks of her hand, she only had two left. A waste really but it was worth a try.
Having failed that attempt, it was clear to her that the only way was to win this Holy Grail War herself. Caster didn't care too much either way. He reveled in the act of murder and the prospect of having an entirely new world for it? Salem had to burn those bed sheets that she had prepared for him. She also made sure that his little workshop was not close to her at all.
Bluebeard had a strange respect and even admiration for the Grimm. Calling them the most beautiful creatures to ever exist, she had to hold both him and Tyrian back from trying to kill each other. Salem scoffed at the image. Tyrian may be devoted to a fault but it didn't take a genius to realize that he would lose. He would try, certainly, and he would think of himself a martyr. There is just no way that Tyrian would survive that Red Room. Not like Caster would bring the male there; he only had a preference for brides.
After Caster had manifested himself, Salem sought to recruit the other Masters if they haven't already been chosen. When Cinder had been chosen? Well she knew just what to do. She granted her request of picking her own catalyst and raised an eyebrow when Cinder had brought it with her. Honestly, could she really not let it go after all these years?
It was during that time that her Servant whispered to her ear. It was advice and a means of putting themselves ahead while also making sure that Cinder would stay loyal to her and her alone. For someone who revels in bloodshed, he did have a strangely good read on women. Then again, considering the victims that Caster had, it was to be expected. Perhaps he especially revels in seeing the loss of hope from their eyes. She allowed him and so Cinder, much like Salem herself during the Great War, had been ignorant and didn't know any better. Salem could still remember it.
"…Yet," Cinder had begun, ignorant of what was to come. "Thou serves with thine eyes clouded in chaos. Thou, bound in the cage of madness. I am she who commands those chains."
Caster had cackled for hours when the Jabberwalker had manifested. Cinder had looked at her as though she had been betrayed. She simply gave the excuse that needed a powerful Servant and those of that class often are. However, that wasn't what hurt the girl most. What hurt was that it wasn't her beloved hero that responded to her call but the monster.
In that instance, both Caster and Tyrian had some camaraderie. Salem made sure that those two would never be on the same mission together. Even she wouldn't be that cruel to her enemies.
Another Seer entered the room. It stopped in front of her.
"Milady," a voice of an elderly gentleman was heard.
"Ah," Salem replied. "Archer. Is Watts not with you?"
"Master is watching the rooms, outside," Archer explained. "Better to be certain that there aren't any listeners, of course. I am but an elderly gentleman."
"I see." She nodded. "And what of your status?"
"We are currently making our way back to you, my queen. The stage here in Mistral has been set."
"Your web, no doubt. Impressive."
Those two had their own plans. That much she had been certain. Watts always had a bit of an ego to him. Seeing him humbled by his own Servant made her suspicious. However, she allowed it. There were only two ways this Grail War could end after all. It was either her or her dear Ozma.
"Elementary, my Queen," he bowed. Archer certainly liked saying that. It sounded like a mockery of someone else's words. It must have been from someone he knew in life. Archer's liking towards his Master must have been an extension of that.
"Very well, I am certainly curious as to who this connection of yours is but you are correct, Archer. The other one isn't one of the Seven that should have been here. What was it he called himself again? Evernight's Companion? For someone who calls himself companion, he wasn't at all aligned to our goals."
"I take it that Miss Fall has encountered the True Saber of this war?"
She nodded.
"I see." He nodded as well. "Within my expectations though it was certainly earlier than expected. That leaves Rider and Lancer."
"Oh?" Salem raised an eyebrow. She could not hide that little amusement she felt. Archer had always appeared all-knowing to a point of omniscience even. "Something that actually caught you off-guard? I had thought that you could see a lot of things."
"I must correct you, milady. I do not see but observe."
"Of course." Personally, she couldn't tell the difference. She waved her hand dismissively. "My apologies."
"Unnecessary, madam." Archer waved his hand. "I believe that this is where things will have to end for now. With Master out on lookout for as long as he has, it is to be expected that some might be rather curious as to what is going on."
"Ah yes, your consultation business. Continue as you are, then."
The Seer soon left the room. Three Servants under her employ. With one other who still refuses to submit. She'll give the other one credit, he had spirit, for however long that he could last. If there are others, then it is simply a matter of finding them and binding them to her. She supposed she had Gilles to thank for that, giving her a baseline to work her own book.
"Caster." She turned to her Servant. "Any news yet of Assassin?"
"Assassin is outside the main kingdoms," he replied. Like a soldier, he stood in attention and stayed quiet unless addressed to. Otherwise, he would freely indulge himself in whatever depravity he felt like. "But their patterns have a commonality among them. It is only a matter of noticing."
"You've picked up a thing or two from Archer?"
Caster scoffed at the thought. "Perish the thought, Master. Killing is its own art and I would be most remiss if I cannot identify the style of such an artist. A sharpened knife could paint crimson colors just as well as any other paintbrush."
"Of course, of course." Salem would never understand it herself but to each their own, she supposed. "We will be reconvening in a few days, Caster. Prepare the dining hall with our finest cutlery. I am certain that new information could still be had between now and then."
Caster bowed courteously. "And of Cinder's new guests?" There was a curious tone behind his words, as if hoping for a particular answer. "Should I also warn them of my workshop?"
"As a courtesy." Salem couldn't care about those two really. They are disposable as far as she is concerned. "However, should their curiosity get the better of them…"
His grin was as Cheshire as ever. "Then, they only have themselves to blame."
"Do try to at least dissuade them." Let it be a reminder if any of them even think of taking this chance away from her.
Caster was gone that he didn't hear her last words. Too delighted at the prospect of fresh produce, he would most certainly would warn them and Cinder would no doubt make sure that they would heed that warning. She could already imagine the frustration of her Servant would be having. She could only pray for whatever woman Cinder would bring along. Caster does have a preference for finding brining the perfect bride for his room. Not even Salem herself could take that role though she had been told that she was the closest.
Salem sighed as she shifted her position on her throne to a regal position, better fit for a queen. She had been a bride once and that didn't end well for her. Between the two though, it really isn't saying much that she would rather have Ozma back than Bluebeard.
Noticing that Caster had left it behind, Salem used her magic to lazily bring the book towards her. Of Faith and the Way of the Sword, the title said. It was the book that Ozma had written ever since the Great War. He even used his real name as a pen name for this one. A classic from what she had heard. The standards must have been lowered. Then again, a classic is nothing more than a piece of work that has been beloved enough to last.
The lengths that you would go to, Salem thought. And yet, while a little late for our anniversary, I must thank you for the gift, my dear. Bitterness filled her heart in that instant. She should not have thought of him in that manner again. It only ever brings a darkness blacker than the Grimm pools. She will admit to being a little flattered about the evil queen in the book though. Part of her still wonders if that is still true to what he feels about her even after all this time. The king in the book certainly still held some flame for the evil queen which made her think.
"I'm sorry, my love," she whispered. "But our difference lay in how far we are willing to go. You would not sacrifice others and take it upon yourself alone if you could." It was one of those traits that she certainly admired in the man. Despite his attempts at being this clever master of games, deep down, he cares about those under his command and would rather lay down his own life for theirs. Since he could always come back, it was hardly a loss. The only loss was in his hosts which no doubt hurt him every single time.
Sounds could be heard from within Evernight Castle. It had come from the dining hall. No doubt that Caster was busy redecorating it to fit his own taste. At least, he wasn't about to remold it into his twisted forms of artistry. He had still come from a noble family and had taste in the finer things. It was one of the few…normal things that he had.
Salem will admit that Caster creeps her a little. She was unbothered about most things in her long, immortal life. Yet, there was an unnatural feeling about him that nearly made Salem wished that it had been Gilles instead. Either way, she had a Servant and she wasn't about to lose again. Her life will come to an end here. Whether the lives of others would end as well matters little to her.
She turned back to the Seer, the same one that had given her the image of her ex-husband. Sighing, she thought, all I ever wanted was to see you again. Many lifetimes later, she wasn't sure if she should feel happy at all now that she could see him for eternity. There was a bitterness to it and a pain struck her throat.
She shook her head. She could not reminisce now. Salem could not think about what ifs now. She had a Grail War to win and her own husband was participating, twice over as both Master and Servant. She could not let it slide this time.
"Perhaps," she said. An idea had entered her mind as she stared at the other book in her possession, the imitation that she had made. "I wonder what would happen if you were to be in that room. I am certain that Caster has a book shelf in there somewhere. Now what should I call you? Ah. I know. Let's call you R'lyeh."
Salem put the book down for now. The other one was still struggling to break free from it. It had taken three Servants to contain him. But in time, he will have his part to play. What was his name again? Sasaki Kojirou?