Fate/Apocrypha Volume 1 Chapter 2.1

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Thus, the Yggdmillennia clan have gathered the Servants of Black in their fortress of Millennia. They have already obtained every edge conceivable, but it is too early to lower their guard.

Archer and Lancer have already spoken with the Yggdmillennia magi on many occasions, spending the time by preparing measures against the enemy Servants.

Rider, despite his Master Selenik's strict control, still heads out from the castle and into the streets of Trifas below for his own pleasure. Of course, the clothes he was summoned in would draw too much attention, so he changed into a plain outfit for homunculus use.

As for Caster, having set up his workshop in the fortress, he has devoted himself solely to the production of golems. The workshop, formed by the Caster Class skill of Territory Creation, is more along the lines of a factory specialized in golem construction. Despite being subpar in terms of defence, it possesses the power to produce thirty golems in a single day, each of which a modern magus would barely be able to build even with a year's time.

At this very moment, two men are sitting on opposite sides of a table in the workshop. A slender golem made from spirit wood placed cups before the two of them, its actions fluid and without a trace of the awkwardness typical of golems.

Sipping the tea he was offered, Darnic looked around at the workshop which was brimming with activity. However, the ones busying themselves were not people, but golems – some built in the form of humans, some with several limbs like spiders, and more besides – who are going about cleaning the workshop and organizing tools.

"…Concerning the materials I requested several days ago, may I know when they would arrive?"

Darnic nodded with a smile at Caster's question. Previously, he had requested jewels which would be used as the organs of golems, and parchment which would become their skin. Both must be at least eight hundred years old, he had implored, and in great amounts; even to the Yggdmillennia, whose blood had spread all over the world, searching for such things was most difficult a task.

"It should already be in our hands. The process took longer than expected as we could not go through the Clock Tower. On that front, I must apologize."

Being the headquarters of the Association, all manners of thaumaturgical implements circulate through the Clock Tower. Whether you are looking for eight-hundred-year-old jewels or even thousand-year-old parchment, as long as you have the resources and connection, getting hold of such things would be simple.

However, that route is no longer open to them now that they have seceded. They had no choice but to use other trade routes, or place orders under false names, or slip through the black markets searching for these items. Whatever the case, some time was needed in order to obtain such large amounts of items without drawing suspicion.

"Well, any amount would be welcome. Which leaves us…"

Golem Keter Malkuth

Royal Crown, the Light of Wisdom

– the A-ranked anti-army Noble Phantasm boasted by the Caster Avicebron.

"My Noble Phantasm is made to consume. Once summoned, it will continuously require an infinite amount of prana. As such, it requires a core."

"Yes, I understand. But we must be prudent in our selection. After all, it does not yet exist."

Caster nodded at his words.

"That is true… perhaps I was being somewhat hasty. In any case, I will begin the casting for the components besides the core, and attune it so that the core can be inserted at any time."

"How long will this require?"

"If all goes well, it should take around three days."

"…That will not be a problem. I will leave you to it, then."

As Darnic was leaving, he passed by Roche returning to the workshop. He was carrying a large amount of parchment and jewels in his hands.

"They've arrived, sir."

"Excellent. Let us begin the production of the large models straight away."

"Yes sir!"

Roche gazed at Caster – his own Servant – with respect.

The normal relationship between Master and Servant has been reversed. If a Servant had been a king in his previous life, for example, then he should be treated as such to avoid hurting his pride; however, Caster was neither a king nor a knight. In life, he had been a mere philosopher – and a spell-caster, just as he is now.

But were you to consider the background of the two, it became clear that this relationship is only natural.

Roche Flyn Yggdramillennia – as magi go, the house of Flyn was quite well known in the field of doll engineering. The children of the house are left to be nursed by golems from the moment of birth, and until they reach the age when the family crest can be transferred to them, their parents practically never leave the workshop to see them. The golems have complete responsibility even for their education.

As such, every child of the clan becomes very familiar with golems. The acts and speech of these dolls modelled after human beings – the way they continue to work day and night – becomes what is common sense to them.

Having been raised on such an eccentric upbringing, they become magi for whom golems rather than other humans are the norm. They may have forgotten even the faces of their own parents, but they remember the form of every single golem who has cared for them.

Roche is much the same. He has no interests in another human being, or any sort of magus. He can exchange words with other people, of course; he has had dealings with people, just as he has fought others in deadly bids to secure precious resources. But he has none of the cordiality one would find between human beings, or between magi. To Roche, the act of speaking to a dog or a cat hardly meant they actually understood one another.

However, the Caster before him was an exception beyond exceptions.

Avicebron – Solomon ibn Gabirol – was a twelfth-century poet and philosopher, born in Málaga, Spain, and the one who brought Greco-Arabic and Jewish lore and enlightment to the cultural circles of Europe. He had not achieved glory as a knight or a king would; nor had he produced works of art which would live on for a thousand years. However, he was one of the starting points for what eventually became the Renaissance in Europe. He was the father of the concept of Kabbalah – the Hebrew word for 'tradition' – and thus an entire thaumaturgical system; it cannot be denied that he was a 'hero' who heavily influenced the history of the world as well as of thaumaturgy.

In life, due to his poor constitution and pessimistic bent, he had been extremely reluctant to come in contact with others. While he obviously possessed enough rationality to be capable of holding conversations with others, he would never allow a single emotion into the exchange. On the other hand, having excelled at a single type of thaumaturgy as a magus, he had never needed to worry about the miscellaneous chores of his abode.

The reason why Roche respected Caster to the point where he called him 'sir' was because Avicebron's expertise with golems surpassed even his own.

As such, even the peculiar cynic managed to form a very smooth relationship with his Master. To Roche, having been removed from his parents since birth and done nothing but create golems all his life, only one's ability in golem creation was a criterion in gaining his respect and trust.

"Sir… about the parchment, where should it be pasted?"

"For the large models, it is best to employ parchment in such a way as to reinforce their joints… you must take the greatest of care in handling the mercury."

"Got it!"

Even as he bustled about, Roche's eyes followed Caster's every move, filled with admiration. Caster is an ideal teacher to Roche, just as Roche is an ideal Master for Avicebron.

…For the time being, at least.

***

Servants of Black and Red – on this day, the actors have been gathered as ordained. The mighty Heroic Spirits number fourteen, making this undoubtedly the greatest Holy Grail War apocrypha of all.

But it cannot be overstated just how abnormal this situation is. The original Fuyuki Holy Grail War was a fight for dominance between seven Servants; however much one may alter the system, this abnormality encroaches on the authority of the Holy Grail itself.

The overseer is in itself nothing more than outside interference. Regardless of whether such an interloper existed, the Grail will by its own logic call upon a Servant to act as Ruler in this Holy Grail War. They serve not to take one side or the other, but to protect the concept of the 'Holy Grail War' itself.

The incomparable monsters that have been gathered for this Great War are too much to be ignored. As such, the eventual summoning of a Ruler-class Servant has essentially been accepted as fact by both camps.

…In a few more days, the Ruler shall appear before us.

Black Saber, Siegfried.

Black Archer, Chiron.

Black Lancer, Vlad III.

Black Rider, Astolfo.

Black Berserker, Frankenstein.

Black Caster, Avicebron.

Black Assassin, Jack the Ripper.

The Servants of the Black have been revealed. The question now is what Heroic Spirits will face them as the Servants of the Red… and whether they will have the means to resist Vlad, the greatest hero in Romania, and Siegfried, against whom any attack is meaningless.

But let none smear the name of the Association by underestimating their chances. This great organization has been passing down the esoterica of thaumaturgy, generation after generation, since the most ancient of times. The catalysts they possess which could bring back Heroic Spirits to our era number among the stars.

One of the magi hired by the Association, Shishigou Kairi, has summoned Mordred. The Knight of Treachery possessed a power befitting a Saber-class Servant. At this moment, Shishigou is heading to the church on the hilltop in Sighisoara, with her in spirit form.

The city of Sighisoara was formed by a settlement of Saxons in the 12th century. Even within Europe, it is rare to find a city where the vestiges of the Middle Ages so strongly remain.

Sighisoara is also the closest city to Trifas outside the detection borderline of the Yggmillennia and their Servants. It was a wise choice for them to position themselves here. While Trifas is too dangerous to enter, being the enemy's home ground, Bucharest is also simply too far.

The status of the enemy Servants remain unknown, but it seems for their own – that is, the Red – side, it can be sensed that all the Servants have already been summoned. Saber has confirmed that the other six Servants have been gathered.

Seeing as they have been preparing for this for some time, it would not be strange for the Yggdmillennia to also have summoned all their Servants. In all likelihood, war will break out at any moment.

In any case, Shishigou walked up the dome-roofed staircase towards the designated location. Said to contain one hundred and seventy-two steps, this staircase as well as the Church on the Hill are both famous sights.

Suddenly, Saber spoke to Shishigou.

"…There's something I want you to do, Master."

"Yeah? What is it?"

"Buy me some clothes."

For a while, Shishigou could not find the words to respond to this utterly unexpected request.

"…Why?"

"Staying in this form makes me ill at ease. I cannot calm myself without my own feet planted on the ground. And I cannot walk around the city, even during the day, whilst wearing this."

It is true that her 'clothes', or rather, full suit of armor could not possibly be worn in public. Then again, the majority of the Holy Grail War is to be conducted during the night, so it is not exactly a pressing need…

"Do this for me. I trust that my Master is not such a miser that he would begrudge sparing some coin for mere cloth?"

"…Guess I don't have much of a choice."

Selfish git, Shishigou sighed. But it was nine in the morning, so they probably would not find any shops open yet. For the time being, he decided to leave it until after the meeting.

Just before he reached the top of the stairs, he saw the vaguely rocket-shaped church. Confirming that there was no one nearby, he reached out towards the door; it was nine o'clock, just as arranged.

When he stepped past the heavy doors and into the church… a man was standing before the altar at the far end of the nave. Judging by the way he showed no surprise at the appearance of the visitor, he must be the one who invited Shishigou.

"…Welcome."

Shishigou held up a hand and put a smile on his face.

"I've got an arrangement here. I'm guessing you're the one who called me?"

"Yes, of course."

Nodding, Shishigou walked down the aisle while muttering to Saber.

"…Are there any Servants here, Saber?"

"No… none that I can sense, but I've got a bad feeling about this. Watch yourself, Master."

She could not detect any other Servants, yet felt that something was not right – but the puzzled Shishigou did not have the time to figure out the meaning of her words.

When he sat down on the first bench and looked at the man again, it occurred to him that his host was younger than he had thought. It is quite possible that he has not even passed twenty years of age. Judging from his robes, he is likely the priest sent by the Holy Church.

With a very mature smile on his innocent boyish face, the priest said.

"It's my pleasure to meet you. I am Shirou Kotomine – the acting overseer for this Great Holy Grail War."

…Something brushed across Shishigou's mind when he heard that name. But it was very small, simply a trivial sensation of something seemingly out of place, and he let it pass without comment.

"Shishigou Kairi. I'm guessing you've done your homework, so I'll spare the introductions."

"You would be correct."

There was something quite crooked about the look on his face. It was a very judicious smile, not something that a boy not even over twenty should make.

"Could you please materialize your Servant?"

"No, I don't-"

"Do it, Master… something's not right."

As soon as he heard those words, Shishigou immediately joined the link. Specks of gold gathered at once, as Mordred made her appearance and began cautiously watching over their surroundings, as though defending Shishigou.

"Oh my…"

Shirou gently rubbed his eyes with his fingers, a frown on his face.

"What is it?"

"Oh, it's nothing. Now then, allow me to show you my Servant… reveal yourself, Assassin."

"As you wish, my liege."

Startled by the sudden ring of her voice, Shishigou jumped to his feet. Assassin had taken form on the bench right beside where he was sitting before.

"Tch. Assassin, huh…"

When an Assassin gains entrance into this world, it obtains the Class Skill of Presence Concealment. While under this skill, and in spirit form, an Assassin can never be detected by others unless she moves to attack.

"I am the Assassin of the Red. We look forward to your assistance… Shishigou, was it?"

A pleasing aroma emanated from the depraved beauty, who was wrapped around by a dress as dark as midnight. She wore a thin smile as her fingers crept towards Shishigou's hand.

"…Yeah, thanks."

With a stiff smile, Shishigou backed away from her. In Fuyuki, it had been fixed so that Hassan-i Sabbah would always have been summoned as Assassin. Is she one of them?

His instincts told him otherwise.

Hassan

The Old Man of the Mountain

was purely a killer; he erased his targets using skills obtained through training of the body and mind. That is certainly not the image that this woman gives. The deaths she caused were not done in secret, but deliberated and premeditated. All it took was a single word – a single glance – and her targets would die by the hands of others.