Chapter 4
"So, how did you find me?"
Cyd pulled the simple bronze helmet from his head, the magic of Hades' blessing fading as his form became fully visible. He wasn't annoyed, just curious, watching the Red Faction Lancer who had materialized to block his path.
The Servant was a study in white and gold. Flawless pale skin, white hair that defied gravity, golden armor that gleamed even in the moonlight. His eyes, the color of molten gold, held a calm, detached intensity. He held a spear so massive and ornate it looked less like a weapon and more like a divine artifact. Cyd recognized him instantly—Karna, the Hero of Charity.
"Footprints," Karna replied simply, the tip of his spear, Vasavi Shakti (though it was not yet revealed), pointing at a line of faint impressions in the damp earth behind Cyd. The soil near the coast was soft.
"Ah, right. Forgot about the mud." Cyd smacked his own forehead lightly. "Even when you can't sense a presence, the feeling of a blade pointed at your back is hard to ignore."
"Indeed," Karna said, lowering his spear slightly. He made no immediate move to attack. The command from his temporary Master, the priest, was clear: 'eliminate the eastern Ruler.' But the figure before him sparked something deeper than duty—an instinctual recognition of a worthy opponent.
"So, Red Lancer. What brings you to me? Just so we're clear, the other Ruler holds all the Command Spells. I have no authority to command you," Cyd said, tilting his head. "And you two over there in the bushes might as well come out. The hiding's not great."
A rustle came from the treeline. A young man with glasses and a nervous expression stepped out, pulling a girl behind him. The girl was dressed in an elaborate, almost bridal white gown, but the feeling she gave off was anything but celebratory. It was a raw, unstable crackle of electricity and primal fury. Black Faction's Berserker, and her Master.
"Um… Ruler, we were actually looking for you…" the young man—Caules Forvedge—stammered.
"Hmm. Black Faction Servant and Master," Cyd nodded. "I almost thought you were a couple out for a photoshoot. Almost."
The Berserker—Frankenstein's Monster—let out a low, guttural growl. She shoved Caules behind her, wild lilac eyes glaring from beneath a fringe of silver-white hair, fixed not on Cyd, but on Karna.
"You wish to fight? No… you wish to protect him." Karna observed. "Be at ease. I have no current interest in harming your Master."
"Grrrr—!" Frankenstein didn't budge, her body thrumming with defensive energy.
"Hey, kid. Your name?" Cyd's voice came from right behind Caules, who jumped a foot in the air. The Ruler had moved without a sound.
"C-Caules!"
"GAAAH!" Frankenstein whirled, a clawed hand swiping at the space between Cyd and her Master. It wasn't a skilled attack, just a frantic, protective lunge.
"Easy now. I'm the Ruler. No need for that." Cyd sidestepped the blow with casual grace, taking two steps back. Frankenstein didn't pursue, planting herself firmly in front of Caules again, her growls subsiding into a warning hum.
"It's okay, Berserker. I'm fine," Caules said, his voice shaky as he gripped her arm. His mission—to feel out this Ruler, or at the very least not make an enemy—was already going sideways. Why did they send me? My Servant's the least diplomatic one possible! But the logic was cold: Caster was busy with homunculi, Lancer (Vlad) was holding the fort, his sister Fiore couldn't travel easily, and Astolfo… was Astolfo.
Frankenstein shot him a sharp glare, as if sensing his doubt.
"Don't worry. His target's me. We'll probably fight until dawn. You two, do what you want," Cyd said, reaching over his shoulder with his left hand. His fingers closed around the familiar shape of [Pandora, Reforged].
"Can we… help?" Caules ventured. Maybe an alliance with a Ruler could net them a Red Servant kill.
Karna's brow furrowed slightly. A deep, heroic instinct pulled him towards a duel with Cyd. From the moment he'd seen him, there was a sense of… destined conflict. He had no desire for spectators or interference.
"Thanks, but he came for me. Wouldn't be right to drag you into it," Cyd said with a friendly wave. Also, you'd die instantly. You'd be more of a liability.
"Can… we at least stay and watch?" Caules pressed, sweating. At the very least, they might glean the Lancer's True Name, or at least gauge his strength.
Cyd glanced at Karna.
"It is of no consequence," Karna inclined his head slightly. The priest's orders hadn't included collateral damage.
"Then you might want to back up. This could get…" Cyd hefted the black box onto his shoulder. A violent, bloody crimson light erupted from his left wrist, flowing into the artifact. [Pandora, Reforged] began to change. Plates shifted, expanded, locked. The compact box unfolded into a weapon of brutal, excessive violence—a colossal greatsword, its dark metal blade edged with a hungry red glow. The air grew heavy with the scent of ozone and old blood.
[Pandora, Reforged] — Ares Manifestation
"...a little intense." Cyd finished, a flicker of crimson dancing in the depths of his eyes.
Frankenstein's eyes widened. Primal survival instinct screamed. She didn't think—she moved. In one motion, she scooped Caules up like a sack of potatoes and bolted, covering twenty meters in a blur of white and crackling purple energy.
"Whoa! Was that really necessary?!" Caules yelled, his glasses nearly flying off.
"Uuuh!" Frankenstein grunted, her voice urgent.
[Danger! Extreme!]
KRA-BOOM!
The ground where they'd been standing a second earlier erupted. Not from an attack, but from the sheer, concussive force of the first clash.
Cyd's greatsword met Karna's divine spear. The impact wasn't a clang; it was a localized thunderclap. Sparks, white-hot and massive, fountained into the night. The shockwave flattened grass in a perfect circle around them and sent a visible ripple through the earth. Cyd stood his ground, muscles corded. Karna's feet sank an inch into the softened soil.
"Impressive strength," Karna noted, his expression unchanged. He was being pushed back, purely in terms of raw power. And Cyd was using only one hand.
"You think so?!" Cyd grinned, a wild, fierce expression. His right hand clenched into a fist. From the scaled cloak on his shoulder, obsidian-black plates detached and flowed over his knuckles, forming a set of brutal, jagged knuckle-dusters that tapered into short, draconic claws.
Karna's eyes narrowed a fraction. He tilted his head, but not fast enough. Cyd's right fist shot forward in a blindingly fast jab. The claw-tips grazed Karna's cheek, drawing three fine, parallel lines of golden ichor.
The attack wasn't over. Cyd's right hand, now a weapon in itself, opened and lunged for Karna's face, fingers curved like talons to crush or gouge.
Mana Burst (Flames).
Karna didn't dodge. He erupted. A cyclone of searing, divine fire exploded from his body, a miniature sun igniting on the coastal plain. The intense heat and force blew Cyd's grasping hand aside, the scales on his knuckles glowing red-hot. In that instant of displacement, Karna twisted his spear, using the leverage to hook the flat of Cyd's greatsword and heave, sending the Ruler flying backwards in a controlled arc.
Cyd landed lightly, skidding to a stop.
"You have fought for a span of time I cannot easily comprehend," Karna said, touching the thin cuts on his cheek. They were already closing.
"Ah, it felt like forever," Cyd admitted, shaking out his sword arm. "But Red Lancer, if you're here to take my head… why are you holding back?"
"My apologies. It is not disrespect," Karna said, and he sounded sincere. He had his reasons. He wished to conserve his Master's (whoever that turned out to be) magical energy. The command came from the priest, not his contracted Master. And his ultimate Noble Phantasm, the spear of heaven's wrath, was a one-use trump card, reserved for securing the Grail for his true Master's wish. Wasting it on a Ruler was poor strategy.
"Fair enough. You don't seem the type for pointless cruelty. So… let's enjoy this, even if we're not going all out!" Cyd raised his greatsword again. As he did, the weapon began to transform. The brutal, cleaving edge retracted, the mass redistributing. In seconds, the greatsword was gone. In Cyd's hand was a long, elegant spear, its shaft dark and its head a sleek, silver-grey leaf shape. It hummed with a different kind of power—sharp, precise, strategic.
[Pandora, Reforged] — Athena Manifestation
"Thank you," Karna said. He launched himself forward, not with a blur, but with a jet of concentrated flame from his feet. His spear, Vasavi Shakti, swept sideways in a blow meant to decapitate.
Cyd laughed, bringing his own spear up in a smooth parry, deflecting the blow along its length. At the same time, the crystal of Zeus on his bracer ignited. Forked lightning, blue-white and furious, wreathed his body, clashing and crackling against Karna's mantle of fire. His right hand, still scaled and clawed, shot forward through the storm of opposing elements, aiming to grab Karna by the breastplate.
CLANG-SCREEECH!
Karna rotated his spear, using the shaft as a barrier. Cyd's claws scraped against the divine metal with a sound that set teeth on edge, throwing off a shower of golden and black sparks.
"Got you!" Cyd's left hand, holding the spear, twisted. He didn't try to stab; he used the leverage and his grip on Karna's weapon to bodily lift the Lancer and swing him through the air. With Karna momentarily off-balance, Cyd's spear became a blur of thrusts—dozens, hundreds of precise, lightning-fast jabs aimed at every opening.
Karna didn't panic. His calm was absolute. His own spear became a golden disc of defensive motion, each of Cyd's thrusts meeting the exact center of his own spear-tip with pinpoint accuracy. He used the impacts to adjust his aerial momentum, turning what should have been a disadvantage into a neutral stalemate twenty feet above the ground.
"I… actually thought about asking him for help," Caules mumbled, sitting heavily on the grass, his legs finally giving out. He stared, slack-jawed, at the aerial duel.
"Uuu…" Frankenstein scratched her head. There was no doubt. If she intervened, a stray shot from either of these monsters would vaporize her.
"And… I still have no clue about the Lancer's True Name. But the Ruler…" Caules' face took on a strange, awed expression. "I think I know who he is."
"Great technique! But try this!" Cyd's pattern changed. He stopped thrusting. In mid-swing, he reversed his grip and swung the spear like a baseball bat, leaving his torso wide open.
"Hm?" Karna was perplexed, but the opening was undeniable. Instinct took over. He thrust his own spear straight at Cyd's exposed chest. Taking a hit from the shaft wouldn't be fatal.
The transformation was instantaneous. The sleek spear in Cyd's hand morphed. It thickened, shortened, the spearhead retracting as a massive, blocky hammerhead forged itself from the shaft. [Pandora] had become the star-forged hammer of Hephaestus.
Karna had no time to react. The hammer, swung with all of Cyd's considerable might, connected solidly with his side.
DONNNGGG—!
The sound was less an impact and more the tolling of a gigantic, broken bell. Karna shot away horizontally, a golden streak carving a trench through the earth and smashing through a line of small trees before skidding to a stop several hundred meters away.
"That… power…" Caules swallowed hard, his throat dry.
"Oooh!" Frankenstein tugged urgently on his sleeve.
"Right, right, we should…" Caules began, but didn't finish. The fight wasn't over.
Cyd looked up at the sky. The moon had dipped below the horizon. The first faint hints of grey were smudging the eastern sky. "A few hours till sunrise."
A golden streak returned. Karna landed, looking slightly disheveled, a smudge of dirt on his flawless armor. "A fine strike."
"You can fly?" Cyd raised an eyebrow.
"A simple application of Mana Burst," Karna replied, dusting himself off.
"You should probably head back," Cyd said, stretching. The hammer shrank back into the neutral black box.
"The sun is not yet up," Karna stated plainly. He intended to fight until dawn.
"Plenty of chances later. It's only the beginning. And besides…" Cyd glanced at the transitional sky, where the last vestiges of night bled into the first promise of day. "It's the time when the moon yields to the sun. I might…"
On his left arm, the crystals of Artemis and Apollo pulsed simultaneously. Interwoven patterns of cool silver and warm amber light flowed from the bracer, etching themselves like living tattoos across his skin. The chaotic energy around him shifted, harmonizing two opposing domains.
"...force you to get serious."
Karna was silent for a long moment, his golden eyes studying the change. Then he gave a single, slow nod. "I will anticipate our next encounter."
He dissolved into particles of golden light.
"To watch all that and not run away screaming… kid, you've got nerves of steel. You'll go far," Cyd said, slinging [Pandora] back into place.
"My legs just stopped working," Caules admitted, pushing his glasses up his nose. It had been a priceless opportunity to observe an enemy Servant, even if the True Name remained elusive. The sheer, overwhelming scale of the power on display was now burned into his memory.
"Yeah, that Lancer's something else," Cyd agreed, poking a finger through the clean slice in his tunic over his ribs. A faint smear of red—his own blood—was visible on the fabric. "He actually drew blood. I was starting to think only a full-fledged god could scratch me."
"Um… Ruler… would you consider coming to the Black Faction's stronghold?" Caules asked, finding his voice. He was now about 90% certain of Cyd's identity. If he was right, he had the perfect leverage.
"You guys drive here?" Cyd asked, throwing Caules completely off guard.
"No… we walked from the edge of the forest."
"Then never mind. You probably couldn't keep up," Cyd said, clapping a friendly hand on Caules' shoulder. The impact nearly knocked the young magus over. "Good luck with the War!"
Before Caules could form another word, Cyd's form shimmered and vanished into spiritual particles, just as Karna had.
"Berserker… is he gone?" Caules asked, dazed.
"Mmm-hmm." Frankenstein nodded.
"Arrrgh! He could have at least let me finish my pitch!" Caules groaned, grabbing fistfuls of his own hair in frustration. The night had been informative, terrifying, and ultimately, a spectacular failure of diplomacy.