39 The Golden King

Rin's lips quivered, her dirty clothes no longer a matter of concern as her eyes parsed the sight before her and her mind worked to accept what had just occurred.

"Damn it..." Sharply contrasting with her usual over the top reactions, her words this time were barely a whisper. Rin clenched her fists and grit her teeth in frustration, her servant had been a complete asshole for most of their partnership but, he was dead now.

The lack of connection between them left no room for doubt and Rin wasn't stupid enough to become delirious.

She couldn't deny the facts.

He'd acted selfishly, didn't remember anything about himself, was weaker than most other servants in the war and constantly belittled her! He treated her like a child! She was a magus! A magus!

Archer's smug grin in response to her prodigious prowess annoyed Rin to no end. His complete disregard for her plans and thoughts made him insufferable.

Rin clenched her fists harder, to the point where her nails threatened to draw blood while a storm raged overhead, as if proportional to the storm brewing in the young magus' mind.

So what if he'd been nice sometimes?

"This is good." She whispered in a miserable attempt at consoling herself.

So what if he'd made her breakfast or acknowledged her hard work that one time?

So what if he'd grown on her? Or protected her life?

Pragmatism suggested his downs outweighed his ups.

But then again, Rin's 'friends' were born of a facade, her hard work was written away as genius and her father had died when she was but a child. Archer was possibly the first person to know and show care, help the real her, not the 'perfect Tohsaka heir'.

"But.."

Instead of some snide remark or sarcasm, Archer had told her to run and save herself, telling her that there was no longer any way to win this war, for her at least.

Normally that would upset her but considering the lightning storm in the sky, it didn't seem all that farfetched.

Shivering from what she believed to be the cold, Rin raised her hand to wipe the dirt from her but found her cheeks wet,

"R-Rain's getting pretty intense."

It wasn't the rain.

*

Bazett pondered over her next course of action in silence, running as fast as her rune-enhanced legs could carry her even if her speed paled in comparison to the Saber servant hectically rushing to the conflict.

Shirou had been, easy to convince. Bazett had made use of his strangely occupied and disarrayed state, something about that purple haired girl she'd seen with him before, and manipulated him into handing over his contract.

He was stubborn, no denying that, but his selfless nature made him prone to manipulation.

Bazett licked her dry lips, smiling wryly at the teenager's disposition.

It wasn't that she got the contract through her own words but instead through Artoria's reasons for wanting such an arrangement. He'd all but shoved his seals down her throat once he learned of the nature of their servants' relationship but this nagging feeling at the back of her mind made Bazett think this wouldn't be the last she'd see of him.

Shaking her head to be rid of such thoughts, Bazett slammed her foot on the road, cracking it as she shot for Ryuudou Temple, intent on aiding Lancer.

Having her servant's wish granted was the sole reason she had for fighting in this messed up Holy Grail War that had chosen children as it's participants.

*

Medea found herself smirking in amusement when a supercharged spear crashed between her and Heracles, the lightning it carried ripping open the ground in a massive flash just as it's wielder appeared between them, his back facing her.

"Get rid of him, Lancer." The Witch of Betrayal spoke in a low voice akin to whisper, crossing her arms underneath her chest. This was going to be a curious exchange, maybe Heracles could turn it around?

They were almost evenly matched in strength save for the fact that Lancer was probably running low on prana from combating two servants one after the other seeing as how she hadn't given him any magical energy to speak of.

His speed would let him take a few lives from Heracles, he'd lost several already to other servants and she could remove the rest herself, effectively getting rid of any servants that posed an actual threat.

It was a completely efficient plan of action and she owed it all to the heroi- STUPID nature of some of her adversaries.

Medea's thoughts were brought to a halt by Aston clearing his throat and pointing at Berserker, "Er.. I know you possess no qualms regarding stabbing an opponent in the back, craven as you are, but I most certainly do.." The knight paused for a moment, as if pondering over something, "Even if I do find their relationship morally questionable."

Illya had been hit by a sudden wave of drowsiness and was stumbling, struggling to stay on her two feet. Heracles, worrying for his Master even in his berserker state, completely disregarded him and attempted to attend to her.

"Morally questionable.." Medea however, latched onto something else entirely, "Are you implying they.." She left her next words unsaid, tilting her head in feigned confusion.

"We're not!" Illya shouted at the two servants, furrowing her brows in annoyance, what the hell was wrong with these people?! Weren't they supposed to be heroes of legend?! "What even makes you think that?" She was well aware of her body's lack of appeal!

Aston cleared his throat and pointed a finger at the raging Demigod, "Pardon, he's Greek." He spoke as if his words completely explained his actions, making the two other servants feel fundamentally insulted.

"Grrr.." Heracles growled, clutching his abomination of a cleaver.

The Knight of Atrocity didn't answer the act, instead slightly raising one side of his head and looking to either side several times. He could hear a sharp noise, "What is that?" As if something was cutting through the air, something sharp and narrow?

His question was answered by a volley of ornate weapons, from swords to spears to axes, raining down from above followed by an almost obnoxious laughter.

"How di-" Medea failed to even turn around, surprised with how she'd failed to noti-.. She glared at her Lancer servant, remembering that he'd shattered her bounded fields.

Aston only leaned to the side, easily avoiding the volley, "A little too slow I'm afraid." The speed of sound was nowhere near fast enough to be problematic. Berserker used his body to shield Illyasviel with the projectiles simply bumping off his body, failing to do anything more than leave a scratch on his massive form.

"You've got some courage ignoring me, mongrels."

Flamboyant as always, the Golden King made his entrance with a massive grin on his face, a hand on his waist and the other held out to the mongrels that had the guts to displease his venerable self, his fingers were pointed downwards, telling them to prostrate themselves before him.

Ignoring Gilgamesh, Aston yawned a bit before shoving his lance through an already injured Medea's guts, impaling her through her stomach before raising her to the sky, "I suppose you'll never be penetrated with consent." The effects of his disturbed state began to show.

"Dog, we meet again."

"I would say it's a pleasure but it really isn't, greetings all the same." Aston did a small curt bow, throwing Medea to the side. Her Command Seals had long stopped working and Gilgamesh wasn't an opponent he wanted to face without his complete attention.

* * *

You can find up to 7 chapters ahead on patre0n.com/Bleap