Chapter 5: Day 1, Dawn

The Shadow in the Dark

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The police station. Rear parking lot."...What's that?"Ayaka and Saber, who had escaped the police station through the back entrance, heard gunshots and looked up from the rear parking lot. They saw a man in the act of leaping from the edge of the roof to the building next door, and a priest stretching out his arm toward him. Then, with a fluid motion, the priest's arm appeared to stretch to several times its length, only for a shell to fire from its mechanical-looking end, striking the man directly and causing a small explosion. Just like that, the man was blasted into a window of the adjacent hotel.A little later, the priest  whose arm had returned to its original length  leapt toward the hotel with several swords in each hand.The hotel might be next door, but there were still more than ten meters between it and then police station. Far enough that any normal human, even a running long jump world champion, would fall. The priest, however, leapt it easily, and vanished into the hotel."Am I dreaming...? Or were those 'Heroic Spirits'?""Don't you feel something when you look at me?" Saber asked anxiously."You're hitting on me at a time like this? Give me a break...""No. You are indeed a charming woman, but that's not what I meant. Don't you get a sort of picture of my physical and magical strength when you look at me? It might pop into your head clearly written out, or...""I'm not really sure what you're talking about...""I see..." Saber pondered, hearing Ayaka's puzzled tone. "Perhaps because you really aren't a proper Master...""What do you mean?""I'll take time to explain it properly later. It's pointless if you can't see it, anyway. Right now, the important thing is that you can't distinguish between ordinary humans and Heroic Spirits. It won't be a problem with ones whose appearances stand out, but a lot of Heroic Spirits look no different from ordinary humans when change into civilian clothes."When he got to that point, Saber checked his own attire, then looked at the paling sky in the distance, and muttered:"I'd like to procure civilian clothes myself, but... Yes, it's just dawn now. I shall leave these grounds, as I declared I would."Inside the hotel.The hotel next door to the police station had been ranked as the safest accommodation in the city, purely due to its location. That evaluation, however, was about to be overturned.No sooner had sounds of gunfire and explosions resounded from the surrounding area without warning than a shockwave struck the building, causing damage in one of the guest rooms. It luckily happened to be unoccupied, but the damage to the hotel's reputation was unavoidable.While the hotel staff were running around, unable to get an objective grasp of the situation... the priest who had trespassed into the hotel through the damaged room was ultimately unable to locate Jester.He had completely erased his presence, and even his magical energy had completely cut off. In its place were a number of injured people, who lay groaning on the hallway floor. They had probably been roused by the sounds of gunfire from the direction of the police station, and come out into the corridor. There were women and children among them, and some were bleeding from cut arms."Hey, are you alright?"What...?"The shocked victims appeared not to realize what had happened to them."Staunch your wounds with cloth. I'll call an ambulance right away," he said, but if the Dead Apostle had done something to them, he could not just allow them to be taken to a municipal hospital. Carelessness could lead to a massive outbreak of living corpses. If that happened, the Holy Grail War would be the least of his worries.Then Hansa noticed a shivering child watching him from the shadow of the stairs."Hey, boy. You see anything?"The pale-faced boy, not yet ten years old, nodded."A scary man... shouted, 'Out of my way!'... Then he...""Do you know which way the scary man went?""...He disappeared.""...I see. I'm glad you're alright. You'll be safe now."Hansa lightly patted the boy on his shaking head, then took out his cell phone."It's me. One of you handle the suggestion on the crowd, and the other three surround the building. He might be mixed in with the evacuees, so be careful. Don't overlook anyone suspicious."When he was done issuing orders, Hansa heaved a little sigh, and muttered:"Good grief... A Dead Apostle after the Holy Grail; it really is the end of the world."Main Street. Near the police station."Please stop."A woman stood in Ayaka and Saber's way as they tried to leave the police station. She was a young brunette, but here features were hard to make out. That was because she wore an odd mask that covered her eyes. The center of the blindfold, which could have been cloth and could have been leather, was adorned with a cross. Her whole body was covered by something like a black wetsuit, and more odd decorations were visible in various places on the body-fitting fabric. A pure white cloth wrapped around her arm fluttered. Ayaka wondered if she was part of a circus."I'm terribly sorry, but I've been told to investigate any suspicious people in this area.""You seem a lot more suspicious to me," Ayaka said, knitting her brows. Then she noticed: There were large crowds of curious onlookers milling about, even on the rear side of the buildings, but none of their eyes paused on the suspiciously-dressed woman.A chill ran down her spine. Her mind flashed back to a little girl in a red hood. She was on the verge of panic."It's an attention-deflecting barrier," Saber explained in an attempt to reassure her. "Most likely the power of that cloth on her arm. She's choosing to show herself to just us, so don't worry, Ayaka. Still, this smell that's been hanging over the area around the police station... It must be some sort of incense to facilitate mass hypnosis.""Mass hypnosis?""They probably want to conceal the fight between the monster and the priest we just saw. The Holy Church's hunters don't change, even after 800 years. Still, surely you can tell whether I'm a monster, or something else?"The strangely-dressed woman heard Saber's words, and bowed respectfully."I take you to be Servant and Master. Excuse me.""No need to apologize. Devotion to one's duty is a virtue," Saber said, and then caught sight of people beginning to evacuate the hotel one after another."Is the vampire... still in that hotel?""Yes. We have placed barriers over the entrances and exits; they will react if the Dead Apostle crosses them.""Does that mean the vampire might leave?""Yes," the mysterious woman nodded matter-of-factly. Her words made Ayaka glance at Saber."I'd rather not get dragged into trouble, so... I'll be leaving.""I suppose you're right. I'll accompany you.""You really don't have to..."Heaving an exasperated sigh, Ayaka put the area behind her at a brisk pace. She could hear a voice behind her saying, "If you find the time, please come to the central church. The overseer must have something to discuss with the Masters," but that had nothing to do with her."Unfortunately... I'm not a Master. Sorry.""?"Behind the confused-looking woman, a stream of guests continued to evacuate the hotel. One child, mixed in among them, shot a glance in Ayaka and the others' direction. Including the woman from the Church, who ought to have been shielded by her attention-deflecting barrier.The child whose head Hansa had patted shortly before saw the woman executor, and flashed a smile that was far from innocent. Then he thought to himself,Once he had stood with the evacuees for a while, the boy quietly slipped out of line, and vanished into the dawn city. Neither passing through the executors's barriers, nor being showered in the rays of the rising sun posed any problem to him now. Because now Jester Karture's body was not that of a Dead Apostle; it was the body of an ordinary human boy.And that boy murmured, with a smile of childish innocence that belied the twisted lust beneath stamped on his features:"I wonder if Miss Assassin will come back soon!"X XThe police station."Are you alright?"The police station had become a battlefield. The Holy Church's executors had administered their suggestion well, and it appeared that the incident would be settled as an attack by the friends of an arrested armed robber in an attempt to save him from prison. The lobby and parking lot, however, still bore fresh wounds, and the officers were covered in injuries.That was the atmosphere that pervaded the station's medical room, where the officer who had lost his right hand to the Dead Apostle was receiving treatment. He appeared to be undergoing a healing spell from a female officer whose with a large sickle Noble Phantasm, and the flow of blood from the wound was just stopping. Regenerating his lost hand, however, would require an exceedingly high level of healing magecraft. There was always the option of fitting him with an ordinary prosthetic hand, but he could not hope to return to the front lines any time soon in that condition."You have to understand. We'll take it from here.""...No, I can do it. Please give me a chance.""With that wound? Next time we might be fighting the King of Heroes, or Saber, or Rider, who we don't even have data on. Can you guarantee that you won't get in the way in a harsher battle than the one against Assassin?""I..."The officer ground his teeth in frustration., the chief thought.One of the police officers with magic circuits  descendants of stray mages  whom he had gathered from across the country. At first the chief had thought of them as mere pawns, but when he had discovered those filled with zeal, like this man, he had revised his opinion somewhat.That was precisely why he could not allow him to die needlessly. Because the chief needed someone to succeed him after he lost this war and died, for the sake of the next opportunity."You still have a future. Don't throw it away for nothing.""But... I want to protect this city's future.""What do you mean?""If we were only up against Heroic Spirits, I might have given up. But what will happen to the city if we leave vicious people like him to their own devices...? I can't let it go, not as a mage, but as a police officer."The man was barely in his thirties. The chief sighed as he answered."I value your spirit, but I cannot put us all in danger in the blind belief that where there's a will, there's a way. If you say you can still fight, prove that you can handle your weapon with one hand, or with a prosthetic one.""...I'll try."The young officer's voice was full of fighting spirit. The chief was wondering whether he ought to address him at greater length, when the phone in his breast pocket rang, and forced a break in the conversation."...It's me.""Hey there, bro! That sure was a disaster! A vampire! Imagine that. You sure you wouldn't have been better off summoning Frankenstein instead of yours truly, and getting him to whip you up a big batch of monsters?"The chief sighed at Caster's usual demeanor, then replied coolly."If that was a joke, I'm not laughing. There were no actual fatalities, but we still have seriously injured people here.""Come on, don't be that way. Ya can't have a war without somebody getting hurt. You realize you got real lucky not to lose anyone against that monster? I should be able to up the power on your equipment based on this experience.""I'll be looking forward to it."It was a heartfelt statement. Just as they themselves needed to gain more experience, it was also necessary to raise the limits of their Noble Phantasms. They weren't drawing out their full power yet, but one by one they would manage to release their true names and unleash their full potential. Most Noble Phantasms, such as Excalibur or Gae Bolg, were able to demonstrate their maximum power only when one intoned their true names. If all the officers managed to achieve that, then victory against the higher-ranking Heroic Spirits would finally be in sight."At the moment, the one closest to releasing its true name is... Why, bro, it's that Japanese sword of yours.""I see. I'll get the rest caught up soon," the chief declared, at the same time telling himself that he could not afford to be overly optimistic."By the way, bro," Caster added, "the thing from that Shishigō guy came in.""...Good. He works as fast as they say. Fast enough that I wish I could have brought him in as a Master on our side.""Shishigō" was the name of a freelance mage known for his remarkable ability. The chief had paid him a large sum of money to acquire a certain object. He had estimated that there was a fifty-fifty chance of it arriving in time for the Grail War. The fact that it had come so soon could be called the silver lining on the dark cloud hanging over him.As if to prove it, Caster reported his findings on the other end of the phone."If I work on this thing, I bet it'll cut to the heart of most anything, Heroic Spirit or vampire."What he said next, however, defied the chief's expectations."I'll make it for the wounded lad lying next to ya, bro. To replace the dagger that got eaten up.""...If he proves that he can fight.""Yeah. I'll be waiting, ya hear? In the meantime, I'll be rehydrating dried goods from the age of the gods, and making the ultimate weapon."Caster spoke as if he was certain that the officer would recover. Then he spoke the thing's name."With this hero-killin' hydra venom dagger for a model, it'll take no time at all. Ha ha!"Western Snowfield. The great forest.Deep in the woods, several kilometers removed from the city... the woman Assassin crouched, repenting her own immaturity.She had barely questioned the fact that her magical energy was never exhausted. She had only been looking ahead. Her duty had been all she could see.And this was the result. She had used the arts of the great chiefs with magical energy given her by a monster.They were many reasons why she had not been chosen as the chief of the assassins, the "Old Man of the Mountain," beginning with the fact that those around her had feared her fanaticism. One of those given, however, had been that she was simply too honest for an assassin.In the affair at the police station, no ordinary assassin would have chosen a frontal assault. They might sometimes opt to carry out an assassination in a visible place in order to announce the power of their order to the masses, but the majority of the chiefs who took the name Old Man of the Mountain conducted themselves in manners truly befitting the name "assassin." It was precisely because she was seen more as a warrior than as an assassin that the leaders of her time had feared her becoming chief. They had sensed a risk of the organization changing, and exposing their own vitals on the center stage of politics. The woman Assassin, who lacked self-awareness, had continued to blame her own immaturity.Kneeling on the ground, she felt ashamed of her own weakness.Her internal clock warned her that the time had come for prayer, but she considered that her present, defiled self did not have the right to offer them. Instead, she had decided to give herself over to meditation, and confront her own weakness.How much time had passed since then? When she slowly rose to her feet, her eyes were filled with a dark, razor gleam.Under normal circumstances, she might have given up the fight, her spirit broken. Or she might have compromised, saying, "What does it matter if it's a Dead Apostle's energy?" But she chose to do neither. Nor did she run. She reevaluated her position.Whether she was acting to settle her own feelings, or for something else, she did not know. Assassin felt ashamed of her own weakness for wasting these minutes crouching here.There was no longer any hesitation in her eyes that noted the morning sun filtering through the trees. Having acknowledged her weakness, she had chosen the path of fighting once again.An inhuman devil. It was true that she had once succeeded in crushing his heart with Delusional Heartbeat: Zabaniya. But it was also true that he still existed.Assassin reconsidered the powers she possessed. Imitations of the chiefs' techniques. But while they were the same in kind, they were not completely identical in strength. She herself considered that all her techniques fell short of the chiefs', their actual effectiveness varied. Some had the same power as the techniques used by the actual Old Men of the Mountain, while others surpassed them, and still others were inferior.For example, there was a skill called Delusional Poison Body: Zabaniya, which had once been wielded by an Old Man of the Mountain known as "The Tranquil." The power that "The Tranquil" herself had acquired had been truly fearsome. It had turned every part of her, including all her bodily fluids, her nails and skin, and even her breath, into deadly poison. A dreadful legend told how she had slaughtered an entire army by spreading her poison on the wind.Assassin, however, merely mimicked that power temporarily by concentrated poison in her own blood. It was said that this was because she imagined a scenario in which indiscriminately scattering death on her surroundings might result in the deaths of comrades or innocents, and the concentration of the poison was consequently reduced.Capricious Fleeting Shadow: Zabaniya was a technique for extending and controlling the hair on her head, but oral tradition had it that the Old Man of the Mountain who had actually used it had been capable of making each strand of their hair as fine as a spider's thread, and lopping off their target's head with no one being any the wiser.On the other hand, unknown to Assassin, her Ichor of Reverie: Zabaniya, which manipulated her targets with song beyond the realm of human hearing, surpassed its original in power. Against a large group, as she had used it earlier, its effects ended at jolting her targets' brains and causing their magic circuits to go out of control, but if she concentrated her "song" on a single person, it was capable of bringing the average Servant to their knees, or completely dominating a human brain. The original had not been so powerful. Even if she had known that, however, she would not have accepted it. As far as she was concerned, the instant she had worked it out with her own power, it was an irreplaceable, divine work.Assassin continued to list the countless techniques that reached the level of Noble Phantasms in her head, and to ponder which was best suited for eliminating the monster. In the midst of her ruminations, however, she felt a faint unease. It was a doubt she had sometimes harbored in life as well."Meditative Sensitivity: Zabaniya"  a technique allowed her to sense every feature of the surrounding terrain as part of her own body. It was the art she had employed to locate the police station's power source. Concerning that technique alone, she could not shake a strange feeling that something was not as it should be.It was said that this venerable technique had been used by an Old Man of the Mountain, but in what era they had lived had not been definitely known. Not only to herself, but also to her peers, her instructors, and even to the present Old Man of the Mountain. Only a tradition that an Old Man of the Mountain had used such an art remained. She had attempted to recreate the skill based on that, and yet...Even she, who was called a fanatic, was forced to wonder. Or perhaps it was precisely because she had given everything to copy each and every one of those legendary techniques that she harbored such doubts.At that point, she forced herself to stop wondering. She must not doubt. She was ashamed to have even considered such a thing; it was a sign that she was, indeed, immature.Once more she sank into thought to overcome her enemy.All the while, she felt that weird unease and a fateful premonition that "something might happen" groaning softly in the depths of her heart. Almost as though it was resonating with something.