How I Saved History (Fate/Grand Order SI)

[Bear_Mint]

Galahad had a lot of bottled up emotions. Being named the poster boy of the new generation, the next Lancelot, and all the other expectations mounted upon his shoulders. Yea, I wouldn't be surprised to know that he cracked under all the pressure. Combined with the fact that no one in his generation was even remotely his peer, that is a lot of damage.

Looking forward to that eventual duel between Galahad and Lancelot; finally able to prove if he really was the Perfect Knight.

Honestly, I feel the one person in this fic that isn't getting any development is Mashu herself; despite technically being there.

Spoiler

Fou also isn't here, so I wonder how you are going to solve that Beast IV situation. When in canon the little squirrel gave up out of love to save Mashu.

 

[Charles Flynn]

Galahad had a lot of bottled up emotions. Being named the poster boy of the new generation, the next Lancelot, and all the other expectations mounted upon his shoulders. Yea, I wouldn't be surprised to know that he cracked under all the pressure. Combined with the fact that no one in his generation was even remotely his peer, that is a lot of damage.

Looking forward to that eventual duel between Galahad and Lancelot; finally able to prove if he really was the Perfect Knight.

Honestly, I feel the one person in this fic that isn't getting any development is Mashu herself; despite technically being there.

Spoiler

Fou also isn't here, so I wonder how you are going to solve that Beast IV situation. When in canon the little squirrel gave up out of love to save Mashu.

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You're close. Very close. But that's not exactly Galahad's main issue. The stress played a part of it, sure, but neither Bedivere nor Charlie knows the whole story. Only Galahad does.

 

[Fire guard]

You're close. Very close. But that's not exactly Galahad's main issue. The stress played a part of it, sure, but neither Bedivere nor Charlie knows the whole story. Only Galahad does.

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Is it because he died a virgin?

 

[Charles Flynn]

Is it because he died a virgin?

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No, he actually considers that a point of pride. The idea of sex nauseates him.

 

[Bear_Mint]

No, he actually considers that a point of pride. The idea of sex nauseates him.

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Guess sex reminds him too much of his dad.

 

[Charles Flynn]

Guess sex reminds him too much of his dad.

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Lancelot wasn't actually very promiscuous. Something Fate's interpretation of him blatantly ignores. Guenivere was, without exaggeration, the only woman for him.

 

[Charles Flynn]

Good thing it wasn't Serenity or Hundred-face. They might've been insulted, especially tiny Hundred-face.

edit: Wait I just realized that this Chaldea is still on the same schedule as canon, seemingly. They finished Orleans in like the first major encounter, right? How? Didn't want to alter the story or did they spend longer on other things such as poisoning slowing down the staff of Chaldea.

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A mix of the poisonings and Septem taking even longer than in canon. Mostly because Nero insisted on bringing a portable amphitheater with her on campaign.

 

[Reven]

Actually I have an idea. Since you give them more life to grand order. Would it be wrong to create your own singularity?

Basically go to a point in time with your own grail and and in trust it to some servants mostly assassins. Having them remain hidden in the background of history till a singularity crops up and act as on site scouts and possible ending the singularity before it starts. Or if they can't getting things ready for you to show up and minimize damage. Basically acting as your own set of counter guardians

Hell I would say entrust it to the assassins you are with right now but sadly I will agree this singularity is too far gone to wish to maintain.

Basically your gaming the system.

 

[Charles Flynn]

Actually I have an idea. Since you give them more life to grand order. Would it be wrong to create your own singularity?

Basically go to a point in time with your own grail and and in trust it to some servants mostly assassins. Having them remain hidden in the background of history till a singularity crops up and act as on site scouts and possible ending the singularity before it starts. Or if they can't getting things ready for you to show up and minimize damage. Basically acting as your own set of counter guardians

Hell I would say entrust it to the assassins you are with right now but sadly I will agree this singularity is too far gone to wish to maintain.

Basically your gaming the system.

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I know what each of those individual words mean, but I still don't get what you're saying.

 

[Reven]

I know what each of those individual words mean, but I still don't get what you're saying.

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Basically go to a certain point in time with one of the grails you acquired summons or brings some servants with you hook them up to the grail so they have all the power they could need then because they are immortal they can take the long way around to singularities.

Either dealing with the singularity themselves or waiting for you to show up to act as reinforcements for them.

This would not only allow you to have more servants on the ground but have more resources available.

The idea is you have a group of servants out in the world acting as your scouts and if possible alpha strike.

 

[Charles Flynn]

Basically go to a certain point in time with one of the grails you acquired summons or brings some servants with you hook them up to the grail so they have all the power they could need then because they are immortal they can take the long way around to singularities.

Either dealing with the singularity themselves or waiting for you to show up to act as reinforcements for them.

This would not only allow you to have more servants on the ground but have more resources available.

The idea is you have a group of servants out in the world acting as your scouts and if possible alpha strike.

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That will just create another Singularity, and isolate them inside. Or get the Counter Force to kill you on the spot.

 

[Reven]

That will just create another Singularity, and isolate them inside. Or get the Counter Force to kill you on the spot.

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Eh I don't know about that.

If that was the case then the world would not be currently a ball of fire. The future can be changed using the singularity. It just depends on how much. After all even when you resolve the singularity the past is still changed just not to a noticeable degree.

After all the goal is to undo the ball of fire. As long as humanity survives does it matter exactly how it happens?

If this singularity or alter timline is nearly identical to the true timeline just with servants dealing with the issues as they crop up then what would be the harm?

Also I think the counter force would have already stepped in if it could have.

Also I know the cannon story it did not happen but what happens if you find or make a timeline that is overall better than the original timeline. That it left alone not only does the incineration does not happen but humanity is in a golden age.

As I said it was just an idea don't like it that is fine.

 

[Darko]

Killing this version would just be pointless, actually. The whole reason he's seeking out the Hashashin is to team up with them. Thus, he's actively trying to be diplomatic.

And I should note that Camelot!Cursed Arm was aiming for the potential excuse of "I had no choice but to work with them, otherwise they'd have killed me." Just in case his fellow Hassans or King Hassan object to him allying with Chaldea. Thus, he tried to pick a fight.

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After that thing with Karna I think I may be biased in my assumptions on what Charlie is going to do when something he doesn't like happens.

And it makes sense for Cursed Arm Camelot Edition to do that.

Although impressing the original Old Man may be virtually impossible.

I can see this happening:

'Your mask is not completely sinister in a way that inspires absolute dread in your enemies. Present your head to me'

Fou also isn't here, so I wonder how you are going to solve that Beast IV situation. When in canon the little squirrel gave up out of love to save Mashu.

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I really hope Charlie has a flashback to this when it happens:



Fou may still give up for his love of Mash.

True he hasn't been spending much time with them, but I bet he spends some time with her when she's in Chaldea and not letting Galahad take over.

Sadly if he doesn't go with them to the Babylon Singularity we may not see him maul Merlin.

Lancelot wasn't actually very promiscuous. Something Fate's interpretation of him blatantly ignores. Guenivere was, without exaggeration, the only woman for him.

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One reason they may go with another interpretation than that which is generally accepted is because there can more than one interpretation for some myths and the characters in them.

Due to things like translation errors, recorder bias and even just missing pieces, there can be dozens of interpretations of a character and their actions.

One example of bias that is highly popular is the myth of Medusa.

In the original myths Medusa was the daughter of a sea god and was basically born as a monster, but today most of us remember a later version of the myth.

In this myth Medusa was a priestess of Athena who was raped by Poseidon and because of this Athena punished her by turning her into a monster.

The author of this particular story was an exiled Roman who probably didn't like his exile all that much and may have had a beef with authority figures, of which gods tended to be the highest in those days.

The work can be seen as a biased insult against authority figures.

 

[Charles Flynn]

"Sir!" Francois, one of my advance scouts, calls to me. "We found something up ahead!"

"Is it our target?" I ask, almost dreading the answer. Please, God, I'm not ready for Galahad to see me like this. I don't think I can possibly endure my son being ashamed of me. But, all the same, I'm so glad I got the chance to see him again.

"No. It's a woman!"

A woman? Out here? Dammit, I can't afford the delay of escorting her to the refugee camp! I'll have to keep her with me and my knights. I can't just send her off into the wilderness alone. "Living or dead?"

"Alive, but she's chained to a rock!"

...This is starting to feel familiar.

"Alright, let's investigate."

---​

She's a pretty one, I'll give her that. She handles the "damsel chained to a rock" look better than most other damsels in distress I've rescued. Usually, if she's been there for any amount of time, the damsel in question tends to look emaciated, unless the sorcerer imperiling her actually bothered to prevent her from starving. Or defecating herself, I've seen a lot of damsel chained to rocks by foul magics, and it is never an attractive or dignified position. Considering that the woman in question is still fairly plump in all the right places, and doesn't smell like shit, I'd have to say she's only been here a day at most.

"Fair lady, what villain has done this to you?" I ask, sticking to the classics. Back in the day, I used that line about as often as I said 'Hello.' Got pretty embarrassing when I started using it as my standard greeting on reflex, though.

"The vile lord of Chaldea, Charles Flynn, has entrapped me here, goodly knight. He bade his foul sorcerers to curse me, that none may move me from this spot, or break these sorcerous chains, until a quest most valiant is performed, and the Blade of Unbinding, the Stone of Sealing, and the Crook of Correction are all found and brought to this place." She sighs woefully, and somewhat overdramatically. "But he has hidden them behind guardians most mighty, laying down obstacles so great that no knight could ever retrieve them, unless they were the great Sir Lancelot!"

"Then fear not, fair lady, for I am that knight!" I call, subtly flexing my shoulders to set my cape fluttering dramatically. Took me more than a decade to get that move down pat, but I have to admit, it was completely worth it. All the same, this is way too formulaic to be anything other than a transparent way to delay me, and one that is making me thoroughly worried about my son associating with the mastermind behind it. Should I really go out of my way to save her? Should I really risk failing my king, just to save one woman?

Yes. Because she's in trouble, and if I turned my back on her, I could hardly call myself Lancelot. I could hardly call myself a knight.

"My lady, have you hungered or thirsted since you've been chained to this stone?" I ask. It's an important question to ask. I'm assuming the answer is yes, since she isn't sweaty in the slightest in spite of being directly exposed to the sun, but it's always important to be careful. I still remember the first time I ran into a scenario like this, when I returned with the necessary items to unchain the damsel, only to find she'd died of thirst while I was en route.

"Oh." She seems slightly taken aback. "No, I have not."

"Very well." I press a waterskin into her hands. "Please, keep this, just in case that changes."

"Thank you," she's looking at me in surprise. I don't know why, though. It's just a basic precaution. Honestly, if she'd told me for certain that she needed food and water, I would have stationed half my men here, to ensure she remained fed and hydrated.

"May I ask if the wicked Flynn mentioned where these items were?"

"Err... yes. I made sure to memorize them, as they were my only hope of freedom." She rattles off a list of directions.

"Thank you, milady. I assure you, we'll have you free soon."

"Wait!" she calls as I turn to go. "You... obviously have some kind of mission to be out here. Why are you letting it go, just to help me?"

Well, now she's just not making sense. "Why shouldn't I? It's the right thing to do."

She doesn't have anything to say to that, so I take my leave, my men following me as I head towards the rookery of the Wicked Wyverns of Wisconsin, to retrieve the Blade of Unbinding.

---​

As I chop yet another wyvern in half, a thought occurs: I am never getting all this blood out of my cape. Three wyverns lunge at me, and I dodge the first, kick the second off course, and decapitate the third in one smooth stroke, even as I contemplate the abysmal state of my laundry, and my wardrobe in general. I've had to clean my armor by hand, with sheep's wool and olive oil (not the best stain remover, but it was all I could get my hands on) to get the crusted blood off of it.

I absent-mindedly grab a wyvern by the throat as it tries to attack me, and then hold it up as a shield against its brother's attack, before slicing through the both of them while they're entangled. Still, while I can clean my armor, my cape is another matter entirely. The whole thing a patchwork of dried bloodstains nowadays, moldy green, and grey, with the occasional splash of rust brown. It's ugly as sin, and I can't get it cleaned, mostly because we don't have anyone doing our laundry. The King said it was a frivolity and a waste, but really, why can't we have washerwomen? The Crusaders had washerwomen.​

I notice that the wyverns are all dead as a dragon, one of the dumb ones, erupts from the mound, roaring its fury to the heavens, and I decide to table my lamentations over the state of my clothing, at least for the moment. This might actually take some concentration.

Right, just like riding a horse: just follow your muscle memory. Sidestep the fire breath, dodge the claws, and then, when it tries to bite you, dodge to the right, grab it by the horns with your left hand, and then...

"ARONDIGHT OVERLOAD!" I cut its head straight off.

Alright then, time to go back a mile to where I told my men to wait for me, and then tell them to help me search for the Blade of Unbinding. I walk off, leaving the various draconic bodies behind me. Thirty-two wyverns and a dragon. Easily handled, but still, a pleasant workout.

Now then, onto the rest. And then... and then I'll have to go see my son again.

I firmly redirect my thoughts to a more optimistic bent. After all, who knows? Maybe the other monsters will take me a week to get through.

 

[Silver W. King]

Yes. Because she's in trouble, and if I turned my back on her, I could hardly call myself Lancelot. I could hardly call myself a knight.

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The need to get laid has been ingrained in the Du Lac line for generations!

Seriously this shit is hilarious.

 

[Charles Flynn]

The need to get laid has been ingrained in the Du Lac line for generations!

Seriously this shit is hilarious.

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More, "the inability to see someone in need and not help them" has been ingrained in the Du Lac line for generations. He has absolutely no untoward intentions towards Mata Hari. To rescue a damsel merely for the hope of a carnal reward would be unchivalrous, after all.

 

[Darko]

Okay now I really hope Lancelot and Galahad have a reunion that can help them work out their issues.

I also really hope that if they summon him in Chaldea he and Mata Hari can start a romantic relationship somehow.

The girl deserves that after the craphole life through her in.

Speaking of romantic relationships, will Chaldea summon Nero so she can renew her relationship with Flynn?

Their romantic moments and the way they interacted with each other reminded me of this:



Nero even left him some physical mementos that are going to stay with him for a long, long time, just like the woman in the movie.

 

[Charles Flynn]

Okay now I really hope Lancelot and Galahad have a reunion that can help them work out their issues.

I also really hope that if they summon him in Chaldea he and Mata Hari can start a romantic relationship somehow.

The girl deserves that after the craphole life through her in.

Speaking of romantic relationships, will Chaldea summon Nero so she can renew her relationship with Flynn?

Their romantic moments and the way they interacted with each other reminded me of this:



Nero even left him some physical mementos that are going to stay with him for a long, long time, just like the woman in the movie.

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Nero, I'm sorry to day, won't be getting summoned, by the gacha's inscrutable will. Lancelot, on the other hand, will be summoned during the Epic of Remnant. As a Berserker. Romance possible, but difficult.

As for the Lancelot-Galahad reunion, it's happening. Unfortunately, while Galahad resents his father, Lancelot was always completely unaware of that. He honestly considered Galahad to be the greatest thing he ever made, and saw him as a shining example that something unabashedly good had come out of what was, before Camlann and Agravain being a massive asshole, the worst day of his life. Thus, Galahad dropping the Stepford Knight act is going to be an unpleasant surprise for Lancelot.

 

[Darko]

Nero, I'm sorry to day, won't be getting summoned, by the gacha's inscrutable will.

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And another potential romance dies before it can take off.

As a Berserker. Romance possible, but difficult.

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Beauty and the Beast type romance?

As for the Lancelot-Galahad reunion, it's happening. Unfortunately, while Galahad resents his father, Lancelot was always completely unaware of that. He honestly considered Galahad to be the greatest thing he ever made, and saw him as a shining example that something unabashedly good had come out of what was, before Camlann and Agravain being a massive asshole, the worst day of his life. Thus, Galahad dropping the Stepford Knight act is going to be an unpleasant surprise for Lancelot.

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I'm still hoping they can work it out.

Speaking of Charlies odd relationships, I was rereading this story and read this again:

"Who's a good girl? It's you! You're such a good girl!" I coo, ruffling Foxmamo's ears, before sighing. "Okay, yeah, it's not working. You're fluffy and all, but it's just not the same."

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It reminded me of this:



I'm betting that a lot of Fate fangirls, and possibly boys, who saw this song hope that it happens to them, but the dog is Cu.

 

[ArKFallen]

And then... and then I'll have to go see my son again.

I firmly redirect my thoughts to a more optimistic bent. After all, who knows? Maybe the other monsters will take me a week to get through.

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Yeah, uh no wonder Galahad has daddy issues when it sounds like the only reason Lancelot accepted him as his son was because it would be un-knightly to not do so.

 

[Charles Flynn]

Yeah, uh no wonder Galahad has daddy issues when it sounds like the only reason Lancelot accepted him as his son was because it would be un-knightly to not do so.

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More that he doesn't want to face his son as a knight of the Lion King. After all, he knows that what the Lion King is doing is wrong, and he's only following out of personal loyalty. He doesn't want Galahad to be ashamed of him.

 

[Wheenesss]

More that he doesn't want to face his son as a knight of the Lion King. After all, he knows that what the Lion King is doing is wrong, and he's only following out of personal loyalty. He doesn't want Galahad to be ashamed of him.

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Hey he doesn't have to worry about that. Galahad was already ashamed of him beforehand.

 

[Darko]

Hey he doesn't have to worry about that. Galahad was already ashamed of him beforehand.

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That'll certainly...make him feel even lower than he does now.

Galahad may have previously at least thought that he was a somewhat good man due to his service to King Arthur, who was practically the epitome of the perfect ruler, even if he disliked him greatly.

Now he probably just sees him as the attack dog of a tyrant.

These two are going to need a lot of counseling if they are to reconcile.

 

[Darko]

A bit of a spoiler for the finale of Doom Patrol, but:



Does this remind anyone of something?

A somewhat assholish protagonist meeting a biblical Jewish figure with a deep connection to the Abrahamic deity who acts weird and turns out to be a world ending monster pretending to be said biblical figure.

 

[Delta Green]

Again, Flynn, I suggest that sometimes you sacrifice the whims of the gacha to the needs of the narrative.

 

[Darko]

Again, Flynn, I suggest that sometimes you sacrifice the whims to the gacha to the needs of the narrative.

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Going against the gacha may be beyond the power of most mortals.

 

[Charles Flynn]

Once we've spent the day helping the refugees settle into Cursed Arm's village, and hunting up food alongside Arash, we're called into Cursed Arm's hut.

I notice, as I step inside, that it's easily the most worn of all the structures in the village, and certainly the plainest. I mentally bump my estimation of our ally up a few notches. He clearly takes the responsibilities of command seriously.

Other!Cursed Arm is waiting for us inside. We file in, with My!Cursed Arm bringing up the rear. Okay, that's it, we need to do something about the name situation.

"Before we begin," I interject, holding up my hand. "Can we please address a situation I've noticed?"

"By all means," Local!Cursed Arm says amiably. "What issue would this be?"

"The name situation. We have two Hassan-i-Sabbahs of the Cursed Arm in our group right now. I think we can all see the potential for confusion there."

The Cursed Arms nod reluctantly.

"Cursed Arm?" both look at me expectantly. "Okay, my Cursed Arm?"

"Yes, Master?"

"Since we're the new guys, at least in this Singularity, I think that we should be the ones to yield on this matter. If that's acceptable with you, that is?"

He hesitates for a moment. "…What do you have in mind?"

"I was thinking we could give you an alternative cognomen while we're in the Singularity, to distinguish you from your doppelganger over there." I nod to Local!Cursed Arm. "I mean, since you're both Hassan-i-Sabbah, the cognomen describing your unique talent is the only thing that really differentiates you, at least namewise."

"Fair. Slightly hurtful, but fair."

"Oh, I'm sorry if-"

"No, it's fine." He waves his hand dismissively. "What alternative cognomen would you propose?"

"I was thinking Scaevola, actually."

He looks at me skeptically. "'Left-handed?'"

I blink. "Wait, it means left-handed? I thought it meant scorched hand."

"No, it means left-handed. I'm not sure why you'd think otherwise."

"It was the cognomen of a famous Roman assassin," I recount, one hand sheepishly behind my head. "Gaius Mucius Scaevola. So called because, when on a mission to assassinate the Etruscan king, Lars Porsenna, he set his right hand on fire, as a demonstration that he and the two hundred and ninety-nine other Roman youths who'd sworn to assassinate Porsenna would sacrifice anything and everything in order to see Porsenna dead, including their own bodies. I thought you might like it."

"Well, now that you explained it to me, I have to admit that I find myself warming to the name," the newly redubbed Scaevola admits. "I think I'll keep it. Although that Gaius Mucius fellow does sound familiar."

"You don't remember? We fought him in Rome, when we were storming Romulus' city. He swore to kill Nero, and we had to stop him." That was a tough fight. Not because he was a very good assassin, mind you, his sense of tactical planning mostly boiled down to 'walk up to whoever looks most important and stab them to death,' but those Noble Phantasms of his were a nightmare to deal with.

"Oh, yes!" Scaevola says, smiling. "That one shouty fellow whose hand was on fire? Kept screaming about how his hand burned bright, and its red glow told him to destroy us? And screaming 'FOR ROMA!' at the top of his lungs?"

"That's the one. I'm surprised you didn't remember him sooner. We had to kill him three hundred times."

Cursed Arm clears his throat, and we all turn to him. Da Vinci looks slightly annoyed, so I'm guessing she wanted to chime in. That's right. She's Italian, isn't she? I suppose it would be expected of her to be familiar with the classics. "Much as I appreciate the discussion of my counterpart's new name, and as fascinating as those old war stories of yours may be, we are on a bit of a time crunch, here. Could we perhaps table this discussion for later, and move on to the main issues?"

"Certainly, Lord Cursed Arm." I dip my head respectfully.

"Thank you. Now, our enemies, the Round Table, are deadly adversaries. To face them, we'll need to muster up as many Servants, and as much military might as we can. I would propose that…"

'Master.' Georgios interrupts over the mental link, and I turn my attention to my distant Servant, and away from Cursed Arm's tactical briefing.

'Georgios? How go things at the village of the Hassan of the Hundred Faces?'

'Somewhat poorly.'

'Shit. Is she not letting you in?'

'No, she recognized me from the desert, and the refugees all vouched for us. Currently our primary issue is that we're under attack from Sir Mordred, and his retinue of artificial Holy City Knights.'

Thaaaaaat's a problem. I'm about to speak up, when Arash runs into the tent. "Cursed Arm! Hundred Face is under attack!"

"WHAT?" Cursed Arm bellows. "Are you sure?"

"I can see it right now," Arash says.

"I can second that. The Servants I sent to the village with the other half of the refugees contacted me to tell me they were under attack."

"Damnation. Well, we were already planning on visiting Hundred Face in order to recruit them, I suppose this simply means we'll have to visit even more swiftly."

Arash lights up like a kid on Christmas. "Soooo…"

"Yes, I mean that damned Arrow Express of yours, you absolute lunatic."

"Alright, let's get going!" He ushers us out from the tent and up the cliff face with a cheerful smile that doesn't reassure me in the slightest.

"We'll need someone to stand guard on this village," I point out.

"Damn." Cursed Arm looks at his counterpart. "Scaevola?"

"It would be my honor."

"All right, that's settled!" Arash is still grinning like the cat that got the canary as he ties some ropes to one of his arrows. "Now get on the slab and lie down!"

"Flynn?" Galahad asks, looking nervous.

"Yeah, I have a bad feeling about this too." I say as I lie down on the slab. "But if Cursed Arm says it's our only way to get there in time, then I believe him. Hold on a sec, have you actually seen Star Wars?"

"Mash has," Galahad says, looking a little irritated for some reason. "Doctor Roman made sure to show her all three movies."

"What about the prequels?" I ask without thinking.

"There are prequels? Roman never mentioned thoseaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaagghh!" His words turn into a prolonged scream as Arash finally seems to find the angle he was looking for, and then, in a move antithetical to a Newtonian understanding of physical motion, shoots an arrow that drags the slab we're on after it at Mach 2.

That's not an exaggeration, by the way. I can hear the sonic boom. The g-force is absurd, and I feel like my flesh is peeling from my face as I hurtle forward, shooting straight towards a nearby cliff face.

Just when I think that we're all going to die, Galahad kicks the plate we're on and hurtles forwards, shield in hand.

"LORD CAMELOT!"

And the shining walls cushion our fall.

Well, most of our falls. Cursed Arm and Arash both get smooshed between the plate and the rock wall, but they walk it off. Sometimes, Servants are just stupidly tough.

I just lie there where I fell for a second, feeling my heart racing, and marveling at the strange and almost miraculous fact that I'm still alive.

Then I get up and cuss Arash out.

"Okay, okay, let's all agree that we've made mistakes," Cursed Arm says, placing himself between us. "But we're here now, and we need to deal with the problem at hand."

"Alright."

We head up the bluff, and see the battle currently unfolding. Mordred is going toe to toe with Siegfried inside the village, the dragonslayer easily holding his own against the Pendragon bastard. Meanwhile, Cu, Georgios, and Vlad have managed to bottleneck the invading knights at the valley leading into the village, beginning to form a barricade out of the broken bodies of their enemies. Hundred Face, for their part, seems to be finishing up evacuating the village.

'Siegfried, how goes the battle?'

'I'm faring well, Master,' he reports. 'I have proven able to penetrate Sir Mordred's armor, while he proves incapable of doing the same to my Armor of Fafnir.'

'Analysis of the enemy: has he given anything away?' I mean, sure, only an arrogant idiot explains their plans and capabilities to the enemy before they've actually won, but then, Mordred kind of struck me as a bit of an arrogant idiot.

'He loudly bragged that he, like the other Knights of the Lion King, has been granted a Gift of some sort, which he calls 'Rampage.' I can only assume that this empowerment elevates them beyond even their normal counterparts.'

'Damn. What does his do?'

'It burns through his soul, but allows him to utilize his Noble Phantasm an unlimited number of times. Consequently, I haven't let him use his Noble Phantasm so much as once.'

'How'd you pull that off?' I ask, somewhat impressed.

'His armor doesn't let him use his Noble Phantasm. He has to remove his helmet in order to use his Gift, and thus, whenever he tries, I make a point of reminding him of the proper importance of head protection. With my pommel. And my fists.'

Mordred, taking advantage of Siegfried's momentary distraction, disengages, his helmet sliding back in some sort of intricate unlocking mechanism. He's actually done fairly well for himself. The only rent in his armor is on his right bicep, and I don't think that cut actually did much damage. His nose, on the other hand, is quite thoroughly broken, and he's missing a few teeth.

"Clarent Blood- FUCK!" his attempt to use his Noble Phantasm is interrupted by Siegfried, who brings Balmung down on Mordred's head in a vertical chop, forcing the Knight of Treachery to block. He wreathes himself in crackling red lightning, but it does nothing against Siegfried's armored flesh, as the taller knight relentlessly pushes his opponent back. With a growl, Mordred returns the favor, helmet re-engaging as he rushes Siegfried in a flurry of frantic blows. But it does nothing. Siegfried has the reach advantage, and he's clearly the more skilled swordsman. Mordred's Mana Bursts can never quite penetrate the Armor of Fafnir, and they can't buy him enough distance to fire off his Noble Phantasm

"Well I'll be damned," Cursed Arm says with grudging respect. "I'm beginning to get the impression that they could've handled this without us."

"Well, I am their mana supplier, so I suppose that me being here is boosting their performance," I point out. "But yes. I sent my heaviest hitters to protect the group I wasn't with."

"And you didn't save some for your own group?" Cursed Arm asks, and I can practically hear the raised eyebrow from behind the mask. "Confident of you."

"I suppose." I say, looking down at the fight.

'Siegfried, stop toying with him. Finish the job.'

'As you command, my Master.'

Mordred takes another leap back, only to find himself backed up against one of the cliffs encircling the village, with a determined Siegfried bearing down on him like a freight train.

"Clarent- FUUUUUCK!" he screams, as he's forced to frantically parry Siegfried's lightning-fast attacks, limbs blazing with red lightning as he brings his sword in to block.

"You, know," Siegfried says conversationally, as he hammers Mordred back into the wall. "Your technique is terrible. You rely too much on overwhelming the enemy and can only parry according to your instincts. Against someone with enough combat experience, though, that advantage of yours becomes meaningless. Further, your over-reliance on your Noble Phantasms leaves you vulnerable."

"SHUTUPSHUTUPSHUTUP!" Mordred roars, desperately pushing him back.

"I was only trying to help." He pommel bashes Mordred's nose, and I see it cave in. "My apologies if I unintentionally offended you."

"FUCK YOU! CLAREBT-"

Siegfried brings down his blade, and, as Mordred desperately brings his blade up to parry, Fafnir's Bane says but one word.

"Balmung."

The glowing, etheric blast of Siegfried's mighty Noble Phantasm disintegrates Mordred's unarmored skull and carves a new canyon at least a mile long into the cliff face.

Mordred's now decapitated corpse twitchs, desperately trying to cut into Siegfried, but it misses. His head is gone, and his torso has been bifurcated, a twisted, half-melted, burning mess of mangled meat. His left arm dangles somewhere around his waist, and his right arm, and the corresponding right half of his torso, is barely any better, drooping over under its own weight as it desperately strikes at Siegfried, barely held up by the charred and melted remnants of his spine.

This sight engraves itself in my mind, and I know that, soon enough, it'll be joining my nightmares.

Finally, mercifully, Mordred's body fades.

I turn to Galahad. "I'm sorry that you had to see that."

He sighs. "No. It's fine. Mordred was my friend, but… this is how he'd want to die. In honorable combat, fighting for his king. I'm not going to hold that against you. It's just…"

"What?"

"When we face my father, promise me that you'll let me fight him. Honorably, with no tricks." He looks at me sternly. "I don't want our match to be tainted by your interference again."

What is he- Oh. When we first met, and he first took over Mash's body. I had almost forgotten about that.

Do I make the promise? On the one hand, it's a major disadvantage against Lancelot. On the other, this is important to Galahad. Briseis-level important. If I don't give it to him, he might pull an Achilles.

I suddenly remember Sir Phelot, and how well he fared against Lancelot. Okay, yes, maybe treachery and dishonorable combat can't carry the day against the Knight of the Lake.

"You have my word. But I reserve the right to bail you out if it looks like you're about to die. Mash is still in there, and I'm not letting you drag her down with you. Are we clear?"

"Crystal." He grins. "Thank you, Flynn."

"Anytime."

And so, as Cu and Cursed Arm begin hunting down the knights that fled, Galahad and I descend into the valley, to deal with the battle's aftermath.

 

[Truck-Sama]

I guess Siegs anti-dragon properties does do extra damage to Mordred since s/he has the dragon trait

 

[Charles Flynn]

I guess Siegs anti-dragon properties does do extra damage to Mordred since s/he has the dragon trait

Click to shrink...

It's more that thanks to the Armor of Fafnir, it's functionally impossible for Mordred to hurt him. Beyond that, Siegfried is just flat out a better swordsman, and has the advantage of reach and superior strength. Mordred was screwed from the start.

 

[Limbo]

Man, I kind of feel bad for Mordred. I mean, she had this super powerful gimmick only to be denied it's use entirely. Just, Bonk after Bonk. She got done dirty.