People have taken to calling me “the Reaper”. Only once have I ever been thanked for my work.

–

This was awful. This had to have been one of the worst nights of my life.

My pursuers had grown in number once again. They were dividing, at an incredible rate. Monsters who lived only to separate humans by component parts; no matter how many I cut down, I couldn’t stem the tide.

The effects of the Body Augmentations I’d equipped to my own body had long faded. The fetish charms of which I’d prepared so many, into which I’d stockpiled so much mana, had all been expended. My heightened eyesight, my improved cardiopulmonary functions and all the rest were now ragged and exhausted, barely at the level of an ordinary human. All that I had left to rely on now was my own flesh and bone, my own blood and guts: the body that I’d somehow managed to keep intact for these fourteen years.

That, and the lessons that had been carved into my heart by a needle of regret.

The Material Barrier that coated every inch of my skin had dwindled to its base parameters. A single solid hit would be enough to blow me to pieces, like a plate dropped on the floor. But I had a strange premonition that all this was only a prelude to what was waiting for me; to what would really make this the worst night of my life.

–

I sprinted through alleyways, drenched in muddy water, covered in unreclaimed garbage. Once, worshippers would take this road to reach Kanda Shrine. I tumbled down one of the narrow, steep sets of stone stairs that split off into innumerable branches. As I did so, I landed a flying kick on the behinds of the two men ahead of me. The uninvited guests.

“Ugh, we still not at the harbour? My heart’s about to damn well burst, girl! I’m gonna drop dead right here!”

One of the men tilted his neck to look at me.

“You know damn well you aren’t! If you’re gonna live as long as you have, you should try to have the courtesy to scrape together a century or two’s worth of wisdom! Or if you can’t do that, at least just shut up and run!”

“Hey now, hey now! If I’m ever gonna put a sock in it, it’ll be when I go meet the Buddha! You could cut my head off right now and my mouth would still be chatterin’!”

“Like hell it would, because I’d tie it shut myself! With a good metre or two of wire!”

How many dozens of times had he made some dumb immortality gag? It had gone beyond getting on my nerves. He knew better than anyone that he could be carved to pieces or shot full of holes, and it still wouldn’t be enough to kill him. Although, for all that, he was in almost as sorry a state as I was right now.

Even in this day and age, when immortality was hardly a rarity, he was still making me listen to his nonsense. And what was he doing talking about meeting the Buddha anyway, when he was a Jew?

“Just shut up and keep moving!”

“…Understood.” The other man nodded. His partner skidded as he rounded a corner, almost toppling, and he reached out to grab his belt, righting him as naturally as if he were taking hold of a jib sheet.

“Once we reach the docks, they cannot best us.”

His wild black hair and unshaven beard carried the smell of the deep. It was something wholly unlike this town’s artificial landscapes: the scent of real sea breezes and real shafts of sunlight, carved deep into his soul.

“Understood. I’m counting on you, Captain.”

His response was silence.

The starkness of the difference between himself and his companion still took me aback. Could it be that sailors simply disliked wasting words? I didn’t think so. He likely just didn’t trust me yet. In any case, though, I was glad that I had not made an enemy of this strong, silent man of the sea. Things could have easily have gone differently.

And besides, I couldn’t deny that I had found something unexpectedly endearing in the twin grey flames burning beneath his chiselled brow.

–

Needless to say, the captain’s dominion was the sea; on land, he could not fully exercise his power. That was why we were now making haste to the harbour.

I was only collateral damage to the monsters pursuing us. Their real target was my companions: the two men whose protection constituted my current job. One was a Heroic Spirit, who had come in answer to a summons: a Servant. The zenith of necromantic magic. The other was human; was human, for he had abandoned his humanity a long time ago.

Any denizen of this city would have told you that Servants are safe and harmless; but peaceful and happy though this thought may be, only they believed it. That was why people like me existed: to maintain the illusions of their everyday, by doing the work that anyone else would revile. The work of killing Servants with our own two hands.

–

She, too, had been one - someone I had been assigned to dispose of appropriately.

Her name had been Kundry. A pagan woman, gone mad with love. The lingering fragrance of her loathing, the vicious curse from an enemy I should have finished with, her terrifying, meticulous booby-trap had survived her death, and pursued us relentlessly even now. Those little sprites. They would chase us forever, gorging themselves on the mana that suffused this town.

I had expected that she might make her appearance mounted on horseback. I had not expected her to have any knowledge of summoning magic. Nothing to that effect had been mentioned in any of the documents I had scoured.

The creatures Kundry had called forth were little sprites called “gremlins”. Newcomers in the world of magecraft, and monsters for the modern era. They made their nests in machines and electrical appliances. Appropriate for this town, I thought.

Vermin who swarm around open ley-lines. Efficient, I suppose.

This wasn’t the time to be marvelling. Aside from anything else, they had come close to chewing off one of my fingers not a few minutes ago – but this struggle too would end, if I could set these men to sea.

“Over there! Drop down to that waterway! The side street goes straight to the harbour!”

“Damn it, girl, a one-way street? Ain’t my thing at all!” He didn’t even bother trying to put on an air of urgency.

Water shone slick on the concrete of the side street. The tide was ebbing: an ideal time to set sail.

“Well, ain’t that lucky, Reaper girl? Looks like you’ll be able to give us the nice little sendoff you wanted after all!”

“Damn right I will. I won’t be sorry to see the back of either of you.”

“The Reaper really don’t pull her punches, huh! What was that earlier? “Looks like Hendrick has once more failed to take a wife”? “Maybe you’ll hit the jackpot in another seven years”?” The talkative one cast a glance at his partner’s back. The captain remained as taciturn as ever, but his shoulders seemed slumped just a little.

Seven years. Seven years’ time. Two thousand, five hundred-odd days? I didn’t know how it felt to immortals, but to me, seven years’ time seemed unimaginably far away. It was a world hidden behind a pitch-black fog, with no guarantee that it would ever come at all.

“I’m, well…I’m sorry about that.”

“Ain’t nothin’, girl, I’ll cheer him right back up again. Bit of a shame, though, I liked this town. It’s noisy, and crazy, and it was ever-so-willin’ to look the other way for us.”

“I see.” As long as you two remain here, there can be no guarantee of that. That’s why this was always going to happen.

The sails of the yachts moored in the harbour began to come into view. I expelled an inadvertent sigh of relief. Careful now, Erice. You mustn’t let your composure slip, not even for a moment. “Presence of mind”. Words my master taught me.

Maintaining one’s composure did not mean denying one’s emotions. It meant accepting them. Anger, bitterness, suffering, terror – welcoming each and every one as an old friend, turning none away. Without doing that, it would be impossible to take a step back and view oneself objectively. More than a few times, that principle had saved my life.

We arrived at the wharf, and were lucky enough to find ourselves an unsecured vessel. It was only a small boat, rowed by hand, and cramped enough that even just the two men climbing in would be enough to fill it.

“Are you absolutely sure you don’t need anything bigger?”

“This will serve just fine”, the captain said. He had procured two oars from one of the other yachts. By no means did they look like sufficient preparation for setting sail to the open sea, but whatever the case, I was grateful that they at least hadn’t wasted any time indulging in sentimentality.

I checked the boat meticulously for traps, before turning my attention to keeping watch on the surrounding area for our pursuers. It was midnight on the Kanda river, and the reflections of neon lights drifted lazily across the water’s tranquil surface. The harbour was deserted, and the river was devoid of the silhouettes of waterborne buses. At least there was no need to worry about any civilians getting caught up in this.

“Looks like this is goodbye, huh? My dear little Reaper girl.”

They had already climbed into the boat. The talkative one began to gather up the mooring rope that I had carelessly tossed from where I watched on the jetty.

“Ya know, I wouldn’t’ve minded killin’ you, if it woulda meant I could bum around this town just a little longer.”

“…I know. You’re leaving because the Captain wishes it. You don’t have any concern for me, you’re just respecting his desires. That’s right, isn’t it…Ahaseurus? You’re the oldest man alive. The man who’s lived longer than even Noah or Methuselah.”

He shook his head from side to side, laughing uproariously. Next to him, the captain struck one of the wooden pillars of the jetty, changing the boat’s direction. Still refraining from joining the conversation, he took the oars in both hands, and began to row with powerful strokes.

“You overestimate me, girl. You’re well aware, aintcha? That I’m not the only poor bastard who turned his back on the Lord, and wound up unable to die ‘cos of it. Even nowadays, the world is full of monsters. And what about you, born in this Mosaic City, in this new world - can you really be so sure you’re human? Whaddaya say to that, eh?”

The little boat left the jetty behind, slipping easily through the water, growing smaller and smaller. It was all I could do to hide my humiliation beneath a calm exterior, and offer him a parting gift.

“Ahaseutus! The Wandering Jew of legend! I pray that someday, you will find your place of rest!”

The immortal was now sprawled lazily in the bottom of the rowboat, waving back at me impudently. I wish I had more time to speak to you. I wanted to learn about the way you live. But he was sneering at me now. The same cruel smile, I felt sure, that he had once turned upon someone else, long ago.

“Oh, wake up, girl! There ain’t a single place of rest in this whole damn world! Ain’t nothin’ but inferno, as far as the eye can see! God damn… I ain’t got no mind to thank ya, especially not after everythin’ you did to cut our stay short, but I hate naivety more than a third helping of bagels! How about one last bit of wisdom from an old man?”

The currents of the Kanda river had finally taken hold of the rowboat, and it rapidly receded from view as he shouted from the stern.

“Try and enjoy yourself a little! That’s how you live a splendid life!”

How carefree he smiled. He had spouted nonsense to the end.

“…And how am I supposed to do that?”

It might have been valuable advice from a man with centuries’ more experience than I, but it wasn’t the kind of joke I wanted to hear. I knew no small number of people who had striven to enjoy their lives, and died all too soon for their trouble. What did pain or suffering matter, in the face of that? Above all else, I did not want to die.

–

The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. The gremlins had closed the distance, and now they had cornered us in this place.

A few seconds after my prophetic chill came the sound of claws scraping on asphalt. A thousand chittering shrieks. All at once they burst forth from the shadows of the harbour, and surged across the decks of the boats docked by the wharf.

“Not this again…!”

They had no eyes for me any more. They splashed across the surface of the water, racing after Ahaseutus and the captain. They might have been weak individually, but if a horde of this size reached their boat, it would sink in an instant. The situation sent a shiver of fear through me. I levelled my final trump card - my Arcane Bullet, Freischütz - at their vanguard, and barked a warning across the water.

“Captain!”

But before my shout had even reached him, he had pushed his oars onto Aheseutus, and now stood upright in the unstable little boat. I heard the rushing sound of him sucking in a great breath.

“Yooo-ho! Hoo-howay! Yooo-hoo-howay!”

He bellowed, as though awakening after a long silence. Or rather, he sang, in a mighty, booming voice that could only have been produced by his broad chest. A sailor’s song. A sea shanty, of the kind true men of the ocean hummed under their breath.

And in that moment, I saw. Aheseutus’ scrawny arm, thrust lazily upwards. The distinctive pattern on the back of his right hand, that for an instant flared dull red.

“We’re setting sail, Hendrick. Looks like it’s goodbye to dry land for a while.”

“Hee-sa!”

A order made by Command Seal, one of the crown jewels of magecraft. From Master, to Servant. And the captain responded instantly. His piecing whistle echoed throughout every corner of the harbour. Space began to warp, and a barrage of concentrated magecraft struck my cheek.

“Raise the anchor! Unfurl the sails! Set the lookout! Tonight we set to sea! Tonight we are bound for the sea of endless storms!”

The captain roared – and voices answered his call, from below the water’s surface.

“Hee-ya!”

Vile laughter, now, like the creaking of bones. And voices that continued in song even so.

“Hah!” “Hah!” “Hah!” “Hah!”

“Where’s yer bride, Cap'n!”

“Give us drink from the shore, Cap'n! Give us spirits, to put fire in our throats!”

“Hee-sa!” “Hee-sa!” “Hee-sa!”

Beneath the boat, a host of pale wisps swirled. From the gremlins who had been racing across the water to close in on the boat, not even flinching at the unveiling of the captain’s magecraft, now arose a shriek of warning.

An edge of red cloth sliced upwards from within the water. It met with the gremlins about to reach the boat, cutting them quite literally in two. A crimson sail.

A black pillar now rose from the water, knocking the rowboat aside. As though they had been waiting for this moment, the pair abandoned their vessel to leap to it. The waters of the Kanda river boiled and churned, as an enormous hull slowly revealed itself.

A sailing ship. An oak-wrought galleon, of the kind that forged the path across the Atlantic Ocean during the Age of Discovery. A bowsprit that thrust forth threateningly from the prow. The gentle curve of a sturdy hull. A quarterdeck like a fortress, towering intimidatingly over all it surveyed. Three tall masts pierced deep into the night sky, and from them billowed sails coloured the red of blood.

The greatest Noble Phantasm of the Wandering Dutchman.

“So that’s the wandering Dutch galleon, the Flying Dutchman! A ghost ship, cursed to drift eternally upon a stormy sea…”

I was bearing witness to the manifestation of a most unique kind of magecraft. My cheeks began to tingle. A shiver ran through me at the sight of the sails and the hull – blood-red and pitch-black, just as the legends claimed. A ghost ship cursed to share the fate of its captain, the Wandering Dutchman, never to rest or be granted relief.

The waves lapping at the jetty were getting higher now, and threatening to sweep me away, but I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the spectacle of the ship, and its manifestation amid a mighty corona of energy.

The gremlins who had evaded the attack from the sails tried to cling to the ship’s hull, but the wisps on deck would not brook such a means of boarding their vessel. One by one they changed form into the spirits of sailors and descended to the deck, brandishing the cutlasses at their belts. It looked almost like a fairground attraction.

They, too, were bound by the curse of the Flying Dutchman. One more part of a terrifying Noble Phantasm. There was never any mercy to be found in their blades.

“Hah!” “Hah!” “Heeeee-sah!”

“Worthless scum! Ain’t even worth turnin’ the cannons on 'em!”

“Give us more blood, Cap'n!”

“Hee-sa!”

This battle was theirs. To watch the ease with which they overwhelmed the foe, one would never imagine how much we had struggled on land. Aheseutus watched from on high. It might have been the correct approach for a Master, but something about it grated on my nerves.

The final gremlin was dispatched with a blow from the captain’s oar.

“Stow the chatter, my lads! Now, set a course for open sea!”

Once more, he gave the order to set sail, brandishing his oar towards the night horizon. Lightning flickered there, and there came a distant roll of thunder. It had been the same on the night of their arrival. Now the eternal storm waited for them once again.

The ghost ship forged onwards, wind swelling in its tautened sails. Its silhouette grew smaller, until it was lost in the darkness. All that remained on the deserted shoreline was the mournful echo of the pale spirits’ song.

“Dalais, Nicht, Eijikeit…

Dalais, Nicht, Eijikeit…”

I hummed it to myself. I’d heard or seen that phrase somewhere before, in the classroom library.

“Dalais…Nicht…Eijikeit…”

“The Devil’s curse lies on these sails…they shall not tear 'til Judgement Day…”

I could no longer see the figure of the captain. All that remained was a single slender silhouette reclining against the railing of the poop deck, never waving, simply staring back at the town’s lights until it faded into the distance.

The storm passed, and silence returned to the harbour. I sighed in relief. Now that they had set sail, I could barely move. I was overcome by exhaustion, of course, to some degree. But more than anything else, I wanted to cast my mind back over these past few days, over the ways in which these two man had unapologetically pulled my heart to and fro, and commit them firmly to memory.

–

I let out another sigh, and then touched my fingertip to one of my forelocks. My magic circuits, set to refuse communications, once more return to open…and as if on schedule, a message came in. The familiarity of the voice immediately put me at ease.

“I presume your assignment has been completed?”

“Mm-hm.”

My master and I always contacted each other this way. Delicate vibrations were transmitted into my inner ear, and I perceived them as her voice. This was a method of communication with no need for electromagnetic waves, being derived from automatic transcription magecraft. The average citizen had no need for it, but this was one of our little tricks.

“This assignment’s targets – the “Wandering Jew”, the immortal Aheseutus, and his Servant, the “Wandering Dutchman”, Captain Hendrick Van der Decken – have been successfully escorted from the Akihabara ward of Mosaic City.”

“If so, then it should be seven years at the earliest before we see them again?”

“I think so. I can’t speak for anyone else, but it should be that way for them, at least. Aheseutus didn’t appear to have contracted with any Servant other than Hendrick.”

The captain’s ghost ship was an oddity among oddities.

Even among the various wards of Mosaic City, Akihabara – also known as the Maritime City – was, as its name implied, in notably close contact with the ocean. However, its topography did not make it defenceless. If anything, it was the reverse; it was protected by a stronger barrier than the other wards. And the Grail would not permit an act so barbaric as breaching the barrier and forcibly making port.

However, a powerful curse lay on the captain and his crew: they were forbidden for making landfall more than once every seven years. And by the same token, once every seven years, they could make port wherever they wished. If they had come to Akihabara with more aggressive intent, it would have been virtually beyond me to stand against them.

“Understood.”

I could tell from her breathing that she was satisfied. Now her confirmation checklist moved on to the crux of the matter.

“And what about Kundry?”

I bit back the response that immediately rose to my throat, and paused for a moment to steady my breathing.

“Dead. I confirmed the destruction of her Saint Graph myself.”

A brutal matter to discuss openly on the street. I once more cast a quick glance around the midnight harbour, but it remained unchanged, deserted as ever.

“But…I think there’s a chance that some of her enchantments might be remaining somewhere. I’ll investigate again soon.”

“Oh? So you’re telling me that an autonomous-type Servant’s enchantments still remain, even after the Servant themselves has disappeared?”

“That’s right. And I’ve suffered for it, too.”

“What a unique case… This whole situation has turned out to be rather troublesome. I can lend my aid as far as scanning the city for unauthorised ley line access goes, but…”

“I don’t think it’ll show up on a scan. I don’t know how, but she’s managed to conceal it.”

“I see. In that case, it seems I will need you more than ever.”

“Perhaps so.”

My master responded to me with a deliberate silence, and I followed suit. I got the distinct sensation that we were feeling each other out. If we had been talking face to face, I somehow felt certain that she would have seen right through my nervousness. It was of course possible to equip a communication circuit with video functionality – in fact, it was possible to directly send input from all five senses – but I disliked being so open about my work. And in the first place, I didn’t even have the mana remaining right now.

Anyway, it seemed that she had accepted my report, for the moment.

“Understood. You can tell me about the details in person, later.”

“I don’t mind coming by tomorrow, if you want. I’ll be coming to class anyway.”

“…I see. In that case, I’ll hear what you have to say then.”

“Alright.”

“Your hard work is appreciated, as always. Goodnight, Erice.”

“Thanks.”

My master was unfailingly polite and courteous. Odd it may have been to wish someone who had never known a true night’s sleep a good night, but it did not bother me. I was just on the cusp of a suitably witty retort when I was interrupted again.

“Oh, that’s right. I ought to have mentioned, Erice.”

“Eh?”

“Karin was terribly angry earlier.”

“…Karin?”

“It couldn’t have been more than half an hour ago. She was rather fierce about it. She was complaining that you were ignoring all of her text messages, and wondering if there was something wrong with the network. I had to explain to her that you were engaged with your work, and were likely blocking all communications.”

“…right. I’m sorry about that.”

“As am I.”

–

“As am I”…?

Blocking communications had been the correct call. My master had nothing to apologise for…did she?

“That Karin…”

I left the jetty from which I had watched the Flying Dutchman’s departure. A forest of white sails passed me by as I cut across the harbour, and set out on the road home.

Something so distracting as idle chatter with Karin while I was working would have been fatal. I would be hanged before I would allow my concentration to be so disrupted in a battle with my life on the line. But in the end, I had still been careless. I had been elated, buoyed up by the success of a job well done.

To the edge of the wharf. Into a break in the yacht harbour. Past rows upon rows of warehouses, at the top of the stairs that led to the overhead roadway – she was there.

The tail of her habit fluttered in the sea breeze. Once hidden beneath her veil, her hair now danced proud and wild.

“Pray tell me – how do you feel, in this moment?”

She asked with painstaking courtesy, her voice dripping with merciless contempt.

“Boor that you are, to steal away my love, and think to strike me down. And in the end you did not even finish me, but left me by the roadside. For indeed, you had every chance to kill me, but in your arrogance you pitied me instead. I can only imagine the self-satisfaction you must feel.”

Kundry, the pagan. Her hair was ebony, and her skin was walnut. The lids of her rich, dark eyes were lowered, as though she were half asleep. Powerful awakening magic resided within her captivating lips. Her face proudly showed her Mediterranean heritage, and it was near-flawless in its beauty…or so it seemed to me, at least. Provided I could pinch my nose to the stench of the machinations writhing in her guts.

Her clothing was stitched with horsehair, said to be worn by those who wished for atonement, and it had become torn and ragged in our battle. Here and there, her skin now lay unashamedly bared to the world. At our first encounter I had thought her a virtuous woman of the cloth, but the scandalous costume she now wore would have drawn stares even on the night of Halloween. Although what was more, the one who had damaged her so beyond repair had been me.

“Ahh…You. I believe you named yourself Erice? Nay, I misspeak. “The Reaper” was your name, was it not?”

“Kundry…”, I whispered. She was a woman beyond my help.

I had used a trap I had laid to deprive her of her mount, before engaging her in a vicious melee and damaging her heavily – or so I had thought, but it seemed that she hadn’t been as immobilised as I had believed. I would have to revise my assessment of the Rider class’s base stats.

I called out to her, in as simple terms as possible, trying to make her understand.

“Are you listening, Kundry? I’m repeating myself here, I don’t know how many times this makes it, but all I ever did was encourage Ahesh and the captain to prioritise evacuating the city. I did not steal your lover.”

She remained silent for a long moment. Her eyes stared down at me, boring into me, not moving a millimetre. I was fully aware that she was not an opponent I could negotiate with – but more than anything else, in my current situation, I wanted time to observe her. There was something more here - something that lay behind how she had maintain control over so many gremlins even after losing consciousness, behind the ease with which she had appeared before me now - and I wanted to know it.

I knew I was outmatched. Should I request aid from my master through my magic circuits? Unthinkable. This was my whirlwind to reap. But even so, I couldn’t see my decision to spare Kundry the finishing blow as a mistake. There was no doubt that leaving her unchecked would have been catastrophic for this town – but only if Aheseurus and the captain had stayed. At the end of the day, Kundry too was an outsider, and she had only appeared here in their pursuit.

“I’ll tell you once more, Kundry. Leave this town. Your wounds are too deep to heal if you don’t. You’ll be destroyed, and I’m sure you don’t want that.

“I too repeat myself. Return my love.”

“”My love”…?” I was surprised. So blinded was she in her pursuit, that she had followed us here without realising even that simple truth.

“You’re too late, Kundry. Your love has already set sail, and unfortunately, all the monsters you set in wait for us have been destroyed. Continuing your chase any more would be pointless.”

Their departure I was sure about. The destruction of her traps, I was not. But whatever the case, all I wanted was to persuade her to give up.

“My love has…left me behind…? Aahhhh….”

A wail of grief arose from her throat as she bent over double. From between two hands tearing at her hair, her burning gaze pierced into me.

“I will take my vengeance! The hammer of retribution will fall upon you!”

She had firmly grasped the wrong end of the stick, and she wasn’t letting go. The flames of jealousy burned bright within her. Was putting an end to this my only option?

“You would be a fool to try. You can’t win against me, Kundry.”

“Do you truly think so? I still retain my Saint Graph, Reaper. As you can see.”

She tilted her neck exaggeratedly, as she advanced down the stairs, one step at a time.

“What makes you so certain that it is not you who is the weaker of us? Already, your mana has dwindled such that you did not notice my approach. The battle with my gremlins has expended your talismans and gemstones to the last. Is that not so?”

I kept my silence.

“You are naught but a girl, not even come of age. For your courage in taking up the night watch in this fortress, and for the heavy responsibilities you bear, I admit my admiration. However…” A tatter of her habit tangled around her leg, and she dispassionately tore it away. “In the end, you are a human – and I am a Servant.”

“I know.”

If this mad queen had some awareness of her nature as an autonomous Servant, then there was only one more step left.

“That’s why, Kundry. That’s why Akihabara will never accept your existence. That’s why, no matter where you go in Mosaic City, you will be rejected as an outsider. I installed a classification tag into your Saint Graph. Your supply of mana from the town in order to sustain yourself will be closed to you. Not only that – just by your existing in this place, the tag will pollute your Saint Graph, poisoning you from the inside out.”

There was hardly any need for me to give her the warning. Just trying to absorb mana through the act of breathing should already be wracking her body with pain. But she seemed to be interpreting it instead as the agony of parting, as suffering that proved her bond with her beloved.

Kundry furrowed her eyebrows resentfully. She shouldn’t have been able to manage more than standing still while still maintaining her corporeal form. And conversely, my strength was recovering by the second.

“My talismans and gemstones might have protected me, but that wasn’t their true purpose.”

“Know that whatever nonsense you are speaking, it does not sway my heart.”

“I suppose it wouldn’t.”

Kundry, you learned that this place would become a battlefield, and used Akihabara for your own ends. But you must have neglected to thoroughly investigate the Reaper who lurks in the shadows of this town. The moment you learn the reason I bear this name will be the moment in which you are destroyed.

But even so -

“I do not want you to disappear here, Kundry.”

Her face twisted in incredulity.

You are a Servant. A being summoned by some unknown party - a magus of high rank, most likely. A wandering fragment of myth, fitted with a thaumaturgical perpetual motion machine of the second kind. If left alone, you will eventually fall to sustaining yourself with the life energy of the common people. You are a clear threat to this city.

“It would be such a waste…”

But it was nothing short of a miracle, I thought. That a Servant had fallen in love with another Servant. This was no destiny assigned by the Grail. It was an impossibility, one that would not come around twice. Kundry’s lover had been the Holy Knight of the Swan – someone all too different from the wild captain of the Flying Dutchman.

“You fell in love with the captain, didn’t you? You came to this town in pursuit of him, knowing all the while that your love was impermissible. How many decades did it take you, Kundry? How many centuries?”

I advanced towards her, slowly, deliberately, one step at a time.

“You aren’t a Servant, Kundry. You aren’t some spectre of the past. You’re a human, living in the present. A human being.”

The story she was living now was something entirely new, untouched by any human eye. She had slipped the yoke of the Grail.

“I kill Servants who violate the rules of this town…of the Grail. That’s my job. I can’t lend you my aid.”

“And so you’ll let me go? At your convenience? My, my… Such kind consideration…”

She descended into feeble, self-deprecating laughter, her posture slumping. Her face was pale and drawn, sickly from loss of blood.

“Kundry, you have to leave this town. You can still make it in time, if you take the train. The last one hasn’t left the station!”

Cut off from her means of replenishing her mana, she likely had less than an hour. And if my master learned of the truth of her survival, all would be lost. There was no chance whatsoever that she would overlook my transgression.

“Will his ship…return someday?”

She put the question to me, her hostility faltering. Her voice was hoarse as an old woman’s, but it carries the innocent words of a lovestruck young girl.

“I cannot say.”

I didn’t have any answer to give her. Although at the very least, I knew that they had shown no such intention during their stay here.

Their curse was “to wander eternally”. Working from the definition, it was unlikely that they could return to any city where they had already made landfall. After all, travelling back and forth periodically between two cities could hardly be considered “wandering”. Even if they did visit the same land twice, it would only be after the name of the city had changed, and its people and the age it had existed in had moved on, that they would be permitted to dock.

What was more, Kundry too was deathless, a creature of legend fated to wander eternal; but the form her curse took was different from that of the Dutch captain or the Wandering Jew. It was from world to world that she wandered, reincarnating over and over, yet retaining her memories. Once, she had been a witch; once, the consort of King Herod II. It was even said that she was once a Valkyrie, one of the daughters of the Allfather Odin. It was her fate to serve men of strength in every life, only to be used as a tool and cast aside – and that fate would never end, until she was at last united with her true love, and granted the salvation of death.

Now she had been summoned again as a Servant, and was being used once more by another. Ordinarily, her memories of her different summonings would be reset, but the effects of her unique circumstances extended even here. The hell she was living differed from Aheseurus’s in form, but that made it no less tragic.

“But…”

There was only one thread of hope I could give to this woman, struggling beneath the enormous weight of her past.

“I am sure that you will meet them again. It all turns on you. No-one knows what will come…I am sure that your future can be changed.” I drew level with her now. She was close enough that I could reach out and touch her.

But in the end, my cheap words and my naive heart were not enough to move her. I was answered with an unwavering gaze, and steely rejection.

“You lie.” She shook her head, distraught.“What makes you think I will permit such self-centred, ill-mannered applause – on my stage? What would you know of my despair?”

She had seen right through me. The desperation that had seeped my words – words that would certainly have violated the rules of Mosaic City – was plain as day to her.

“The future can be changed? My future? Well then, come, Reaper – come and kill me, if you can!”

“I’m sorry…Kundry…”

The legends told: that Kundry, the pagan woman, would never tell a lie. However, nor would she ever serve the cause of good.

She brandished her hand high above her head. In her palm, mana began to gather, and crystallise into the form of something straight and long: a spear. A long-handled soldier’s spear, in the fashion of the ancient Roman empire.

“That spear…that spear is-”

I was reflexively diving away before I could even complete my mumbled sentence. This was a Noble Phantasm! The Holy Spear – Longinus!

Once more, I had been careless. Her Noble Phantasm had been neither her mount, nor her lips of awakening. It had not even crossed my mind that she might possess this spear, both blessed and cursed.

With the spear held aloft, the mad queen arched her body backwards like a whip, never once taking her eyes from my fleeing figure – and threw.

The attack closed on me faster than the speed of sound. I activated a single-action incantation. All I could manage was to instantaneously fire a sure-hit arcane bullet into the spear’s path, deflecting it a little from its arc straight to my heart.

The blow skewered me deep, sending me flying sideways out across the harbour, bouncing across the surface of the Kanda river. The spray from the impact splashed high, reflecting the neon illumination of the town like tacky fairy lights.

“…Porca…miseria…”

The last effort I could muster went into that curse, and then I sank towards the riverbed.

I saw a dream. A dream of a tiny pain.

When I lost my parents, I was placed in the care of my grandmother, who was my only living relative. She lived in an old-fashioned wooden house on the outskirts of Shinjuku. As a child I never showed my emotions outwardly, and did very little to endear me to my grandmother, who must have struggled to know what to do with me.

One afternoon, she laid out newspaper in one corner of the narrow garden, and cut my hair. I sat in the chair, letting her do as she wished. I was not yet old enough for my feet to have touched the ground.

My grandmother’s hands were far from deft. The toothed tip of the pair of thinning scissors she was using brushed against the top of my left ear, the metal cool on my skin - and with a snip, cut it along with my hair.

It hurt, of course, but I let nothing show. I had simply accepted it for what it was.

In the end my grandmother realised her carelessness, and her mistake, only when she noticed the thin rivulet of blood trickling down my neck as she was finishing her work. She stared at me, lost for words, with an expression so deeply grieved that the world might as well have ended.

For a long time after that, she was silent. She treated my wound, and then she spoke. “If it hurts, Erice, you have to tell me it hurts.”

I nodded mechanically. She managed a feeble smile, although she still looked as though she were about to cry.

I still have the scar from that day on my ear. A scar like the mark left on a train ticket by the ticket punch.

I awakened from my momentary dream.

A heavy, cold pain lanced pierced through my abdomen. The moment I became aware of the irregularity, a burning numbness spread throughout my body. It had been a magnificent blow. Although I should have expected as much from the spearwork of Valhalla.

I knew this was real – that I was submerged, sinking to the bottom of the Kanda River – and yet it felt strangely like a dream. Perhaps I was numbing my own senses, in order to spare myself unnecessary suffering.

–

I was running my recovery systems at full power, but they still couldn’t keep pace. The mental processing power required for self-analysis, and the underwater respiration functionality I had loaded in case of emergencies, would only last a few more seconds at best. Through my wavering vision, I watched the edges of the lance skewering my stomach begin to blur and lose cohesion, coming undone from the outside in.

So this spear…was a projection… It wasn’t a genuine…Noble Phantasm…

It had been a counterfeit, reproduced by the hand of someone other than its rightful owner.

That would…make sense… If it had been…the true Holy Spear…an arcane bullet couldn’t have…

But still, there was something in its framework that came extraordinarily close to the genuine article, forged with incredible precision. My lips curled into a self-deprecating smile, at the absurdity of my lapse in judgement and the situation I had been placed in.

The projection’s creator showed no sign of coming to retrieve her spear, or any intention of making sure of the death of her foe. She must have found the satisfaction she sought, believing her vengeance complete. Now, she should no longer have any reason to remain in this town. I prayed that she managed to escape Akihabara before her Saint Graph disappeared in totality…although I reserved the right to register a complaint or two with her, should we ever meet again face-to-face.

–

I had lost all sense of up or down, but it seemed I must have been sinking face-up. The colours of reflected neon coalesced before my eyes on the water’s surface, spreading out in front of me like a sky filled with stars.

It’s…so beautiful…

My vision began to dim, and the spectacle before me felt as though it was receding into the distance. The darkness drew me silently under. My life slipped out from between my lips, in little bubbles that rose into the sky.

–

And then, I met with my fate.

–

First to come was the music. A lone piano, a woodwind ensemble, a vocal chorus; even, somewhere, the whimsical tones of an electric guitar. Melodies played by a multitude of instruments faded in and then out again, one after the other.

It wasn’t a real orchestra. It was unmistakably being played back - and its recording quality was hardly the best, at that. It would have been extremely low-fidelity, even if I hadn’t been underwater.

And then, suddenly, I noticed. That beyond where my eyes’ drifting focuses met, a tiny, pale blue light was flitting back and forth, as though frolicking among the bubbles rising through the water. It swam gleeful and free.

What…is that?

Next to enter my ears came the words, although they were in languages unknown to me. But all of them were short, like words of greeting. Some of them even seemed as though I had heard them somewhere before.

My consciousness dimmed once more, and I blinked, long and slow – and then he was there. A child of gold.

A young boy floated before me, phosphorescence dancing across his golden hair.

His form was all too unreal, but somehow, it seemed reassuringly familiar to me.

…A…a Servant…?

I could easily have told myself it was just an illusion, shown to me by my dimming consciousness. A hallucination brought forth by my oxygen-starved brain, as its suffering reached saturation point. But still, somehow, an inexplicable expectation filled my breast, swirling, warming me from within.

His mouth opened.

“I…ask…you…”

He spoke, in halting English. He was calling out to someone – to me, directly.

“Are…you…worthy…of…being…my…Master…?”

I had no way of understanding what was happening. All I knew for certain was that on this night, my war had begun. That a Holy Grail War had begun. And that single truth overtook anything and everything else, to strike deep into my chest.

I stretched out towards him, reaching with fingers that had lost all feeling.

And in the next moment – my arm was grasped by sturdy claws, and I was dragged up once more to the world above the surface.

–

Several minutes later, I was laid flat on the concrete of the wharf, desperately hacking up water. The hand of someone drawing up close to me gently patted my back.

“Hey, you awake? You’re awake, right?”

The girl who had been nursing me now leaned over to peer directly into my face – and then yelled mercilessly, directly into my ear.

“OY, OLD MAN ERI! AWAKE IN THERE, YA ROTTEN SACK OF STUPID? THE HELL YOU THINK YOU’RE PLAYIN’ AT, HUH? YOU BETTER BELIEVE I’M GONNA KICK YOUR SORRY ASS FROM HERE TO NEXT WEEK!”

It was her. The girl my master had talked to me about, and one of my very few friends.

“Oh, it’s just you, Karin.”

My mood had taken a sudden turn for the worse. The inside of my nose was beginning to sting.

“Blegh. …Hang on…Karin, don’t tell me…artificial respiration?”

“LIKE HELL I DID, YA DUMBASS!”

“I’m telling you, keep it down.”

“Ah, yeah, nope. Not gonna lie, I thought about it for a bit. But Momi was sayin’ you’d be fine, so…”

That would explain it.

“So you were the one…who helped me, Kouyou. …Thank you.”

The hulking form next to Karin rustled a little, in place of a response. The visage of this creature who had fished me from the water was a clear oddity, even by the standards of Mosaic City. She resembled nothing so much as a black dinosaur, with great horns growing from her head. This was the Servant who called Karin Master: the Berserker, the Ogress Kouyou. Karin had nicknamed her Momi, short for Momiji – another reading of Kouyou, “autumn leaves”.

Even knowing her true name, I still struggled to reconcile it with her appearance. But by no means did I mean to denigrate her worth by saying that.

“Hold on a-! I’m right here, y'know! The girl who told Momi to dive in and save your sorry ass! So, you’re rewardin’ me for my efforts, right? You’re treatin’ me to takoyaki, right…?”

“No idea what you think I’d do that for. Although I’ll gladly treat Kouyou to as much as she wants.”

“Wha-!”

Karin’s mouth kept running, and it showed no signs of stopping any time soon. I rolled over exasperatedly and made to pick myself up, but was pushed back down decisively by Kouyou. No moving yet. You would never think her arms ended in such wicked claws, so gentle was her touch – but even so, it was firm enough so as to permit no disagreement.

I tried to twist my body around as I lay sideways, and a wave of agony crashed through my midriff. I winced, almost passing out.

It shouldn’t have surprised me. After all, I had been skewered through by a spear up until a few scant minutes ago. The weapon itself might have vanished now, but it had left its mark clearly on my flank.

“C'mon, just rest for a bit. Listen to Momi. Where do you think you’re going, anyway, with a hole in your guts you could drive a bus through? Don’t you realise that if it weren’t for Momi’s healing you’d be dead by now?”

“…Ugh…I guess so…”

Heat blossomed steadily throughout my abdomen as my metabolism began to accelerate. Even though Kouyou was a Berserker, she was oddly well-versed in the healing arts. I placed a great deal of trust in her capabilities – her Master notwithstanding. This was not the first time I had unexpectedly found myself having to make use of her power, or even the second.

“She’s incredible, isn’t she? Kouyou, I mean. I don’t know why I’m even surprised any more.”

“Well, maybe you’d be a bit more surprised if she wasn’t having to patch you up all the time, dumbass! And how many times did I tell you, anyway? That you should call on me to help you for big jobs?”

Karin paused in her tirade to heave an exaggerated sigh.

“Well…in the end, I guess you’re just lucky to be alive, huh.”

“…You’re telling me.”

I managed to catch a glimpse of the pattern of the Command Seal glowing on the back of Karin’s right hand. Normally it would be transparent, indistinguishable from her bare skin, but now, thanks to her use of healing magecraft, it was awakened. The majority of its strokes had been expended. It looked like it would take a few days to recover.

Ah…

Only now did I realise that spread out beneath me lay Karin’s shirt. It was soaked through, and wet with blood, although the bloodstain was smaller than I would have thought. My wound was still agonising, but the flow of blood had stemmed, and it had already acquired a thin covering of granulation tissue.

“Karin…this is…”

“Don’t worry about it.” Karin produced an antibacterial patch from the pouch she carried, and gave a little smile. I must have been more fragile than I had thought, to have been on the point of showing her a moment of weakness.

–

Kouyou, still as silent as ever, was keeping watch even as she applied her healing magecraft – although no matter how much time passed, all remained quiet on the wharf. Kundry had disappeared, and left this town, or so my intuition told me. But even so, unanswered questions remained. They stayed lodged in my memory, as items requiring urgent investigation.

I quickly turned to Karin. “How did you know where I was?”, I asked.

“Ain’t it obvious? I had to wring it out of your 'master’. On account of a certain somebody not picking up their phone. Got anything to say about that, eh? Hmm?”

Karin prodded one of my forelocks, an exasperated expression on her face.

“Hmm. So that’s why.”

So that was the story behind my master’s oddly pointed final line. She had decided that it was prudent to send Karin to the scene to lend me her help. Which ultimately meant that I was not yet strong enough to be worth of her unreserved trust.

And I suppose she wasn’t wrong, either…

I grit my teeth in frustration. Still lying sprawled, I covered my eyes with my arm. Just how long would it take, before she would acknowledge me as worthy? How long would it have to be before she would assign me work outside of Akihabara?

This time it was Karin’s turn to ask me a question, as I lay despondent.

“Hey, by the way, Eri-pie? Just wondering, but…”

I turned my neck to peer in the direction she was pointing, behind Kouyou.

“Who’s the shrimp? Someone’s kid or something? He’s a Servant, right?”

“…What?” I started.

My premonition earlier this night had not been mistaken after all.

–

That boy was there.

His ethereal radiance was nowhere to be seen, and now he was just as sodden as I was. As I watched, he approached Kouyou’s tail, brimming with curiosity – and then came too close and was smacked away. He was rolled first one way, then the other, like a kitten playing with its mother’s tail.

“Hang on, Eri, don’t tell me…he’s not anything to do with your work, right?”

Karin probed me, hesitantly. I knew well that Servants should not be judged by their appearances. But even so…

“What’re you gonna do? You’re not gonna kill him, are you? You’re really gonna kill him?”

“Uh…” I was at a loss as to how to answer her. “I honestly don’t know. I’ve only just met him.”

What class was he? Where did he live? Who was his Master? The questions came thick and fast, and the only answer I could offer was a vague shake of my head.

“Huh? So you’re telling me he’s some sort of stray Servant?”

“I…I suppose he must be.”

I had finally regained enough strength to sit upright, and I looked down.

The back of my hand remained devoid of Command Seals. Just as it had always been, ever since the day I was born.