[FDJ]Chapter 22 - The Dinner Party

The great sage with the power of foresight still couldn't change the predetermined fate, for those who have reached this level would not use this ability for trivial matters. Even though he explained it over and over again to the brave young girl, the mysteries of the divine era would eventually come to an end, and all their efforts would be like morning mist.

Feeling even more powerless against destiny are the people from the future, as the history of the journey of kings has already been recorded in black and white. Starting from a legendary beginning, crowned with victory time and time again, reaching the pinnacle. The people of that time would never believe that an inconspicuous young person would create such an incredible myth, but the people from the future have already read the entire book.

Knowing that every legend has its end, perhaps an early demise, or a defeat at the brink of victory, or even encountering another destined hero, together they would experience the most glorious moment of their lives. In the eyes of those from the future, knowing the ending in advance makes everything in the process dull.

A lively dinner party was taking place in the Hun camp, serving as the final grand event before the decisive battle. Every Hun soldier received a portion of lamb and wine.

The bonfire dispelled the cold of the grassland night, and the ancient Hun songs echoed through the camp. They sang praises to the heavens, the gods of the four directions, and the king who brought them victory—Attila. The once invincible Eastern Roman Empire had been toppled by their arrows and blades; they had even visited the supposedly impregnable Constantinople. Following King Attila, the unstoppable hooves of their warhorses, the Eastern Roman Empire generously offered countless amounts of gold, using this divine weapon to "repel" the Hun army.

They firmly believed that the king was the representative of the gods, and by following her, they would obtain gold, slaves, livestock, and victory. They firmly believed that the end of this expedition would be the capital of the Western Roman Empire—Ravenna. They were not invaders on this occasion, but responding to the invitation of the princess of the Western Roman Empire, to cheer and celebrate the marriage of their king Attila to the princess. The idea of women marrying women was unimaginable in ordinary households, but their king was different. The king's decisions were always right, even if it meant marrying the king of the Western Roman Empire instead. The only difference was that the Western Roman Empire had to offer half of its territory as a dowry, or perhaps even all of it!

The song had not yet finished, but Suzuki couldn't hear the content of the song clearly because a passionate Hun general accidentally poured him a bowl of wine. Jeanne had returned, and he was already asleep on the blanket.

The banquet continued, and it wouldn't stop until the bonfire burned out.

"Apologies, madam, your partner is even more immature than I imagined. I asked him his age, and he said he was 16. When I was 16, I had already married my second beautiful girl as my wife, so I thought he should be able to drink. He should be able to drink..." The Hun general finished speaking and left with a loud laugh. The female swordsman guarding Suzuki felt a sense of danger instinctively.

Jeanne lifted her Master and prepared to leave the banquet, settling Suzuki. Tonight, she felt the need to remain vigilant. Archer had mentioned it before—Assassin killed Archer's Master. Jeanne had witnessed Archer's archery skills during the day and knew that engaging in close combat with her would put her at a significant disadvantage. Archer's arrows were too precise.

Therefore, the Assassin must possess a Noble Phantasm that could ensure a successful surprise attack and a safe retreat.

"Please inform your king on my behalf. My Master is drunk, and we will be leaving the banquet now." Jeanne explained to the guard responsible for relaying the message, who immediately ran back to the center of the banquet to report to Attila.

Jeanne had a silk fabric hanging from her waist, a gift from the East. She had just participated in the "game" initiated by Attila, effortlessly defeating several so-called strongmen in the camp through a pure display of strength. She had exerted less than ten percent of her power. Attila had asked if Archer would also compete in a test of strength, but the green-haired marksman declined.

Aside from possessing the contemporary knowledge bestowed upon her by the Holy Grail upon her arrival, Jeanne also remembered her memories from her past life. Therefore, she was well aware of the beginning and end of the Battle of Orléans. Soon, the stream would turn muddy, and when she cupped the crimson liquid in her hands, she couldn't discern if it was blood or bloody water.

"Noble guests, is this banquet not entertaining enough for you? We have a magical performance coming up. Our king has prepared many acts to dispel the boredom during your journey." A hunchbacked old sorcerer approached from behind. He was Attila's sorcery advisor, known as Uvi, though Jeanne didn't acknowledge titles like "Great Sorcerer of the Hun Empire."

Uvi was not only a high-ranking sorcerer but also a noble in the Hun Empire.

His disciples stood at a slight distance and did not approach.

"It's not that your performance isn't appealing, but my Master is drunk, and I need to take him back to the camp. Once we leave the banquet area, you can feel the night breeze growing colder. Sleeping outdoors for a night could give him a cold."

"That's a pity. After we defeat the coalition of the Western Roman Empire, we will hold another banquet. Please do attend." The old sorcerer squinted his eyes, and his mouth, with only two remaining teeth, trembled incessantly. It seemed he used some special method to enable him to speak normally.

Although Jeanne considered the Hun's sorcery to be heresy, she wouldn't intervene. After all, this was the territory of the Huns, and as a guest, she couldn't be impolite.

She carried Suzuki Yuki back to the tent specially prepared by Attila for them. It was said to be prepared for two people, but it could comfortably accommodate seven or eight.

Inside the tent, the slaves were arranging the bedding, but they had forgotten to dispose of the eaten fruit peels, thinking that leaving them in a corner of the tent would go unnoticed.

When Jeanne looked at the fruit peels in the corner, the two slaves finally realized their mistake and hurriedly knelt on the ground, begging for forgiveness from Jeanne.

"I've said it before, I won't treat you as slaves, and you shouldn't cause me trouble. If there's anything you need help with, feel free to ask. You can eat the food here, but please dispose of the garbage in the proper place!"

Jeanne didn't care about the Gallic lineage of the two slave girls. She treated ordinary people without threats equally, regardless of their ethnic background. Advising Suzuki not to return the two slaves was also for the sake of convenience. Whether these two slave girls would be executed or not was not her concern.

To her, everyone in this Holy Grail War, except for the Servants and her own Master, were people from the past, just like characters in a book. Their fates had already been determined, and there was no need for her to intervene.

"I need to pray. You two take care of him and let him have a good sleep." Jeanne placed Suzuki on the prepared bedding and motioned for the two slaves to stay by his side. She hadn't prayed to her Lord today yet, and despite not needing to eat, her devoutness to her faith remained unchanged. Praying to her Lord was equivalent to a necessary task.

The night breeze occasionally brushed against the tent, and the 5th-century tent was far from completely windproof. The faint sound of Jeanne's prayer was drowned out by the wind. The two slaves couldn't make out the words she recited, but they didn't need to.

This tranquility lasted for a while. Because they dared not speak, the two slave girls began to doze off. They had been confined in iron cages or driven like sheep by the Hun soldiers for a long time. They hadn't experienced such a peaceful refuge in a while. Even if they could only kneel beside their new owner, it allowed the tension in their hearts to relax. Being able to eat fresh fruits and bread, having clean water, warm candlelight, and a tent—it was the most comfortable environment they had ever been in, even before being captured by the Huns.

Freedom wasn't valuable to them. It was like their lives combined were worth less than a single sheep.

Jeanne heard an unusual sound. It came from less than 500 meters away, from behind her. It was different from the footsteps of the Hun soldiers, and she was able to perceive it, even if it was fleeting, existing only for a moment.

Maintaining her prayer, Jeanne continued to listen to the sounds of the night breeze.

They appeared regularly, every few minutes. Sometimes they approached to less than 300 meters, and other times they moved away to an indeterminable distance. It was as if they were inviting Jeanne, urging her to draw her sword and go over to personally see who was lurking with hostility.

But Jeanne wasn't foolish. She was 70% certain it was Assassin causing trouble from a distance, attempting to deceive her and lure her away from her Master so they could strike.

In a normal Holy Grail War, there would be seven Servants summoned. Currently, Jeanne only knew of the existence of two Servants and couldn't guarantee that there weren't other Servants hiding in the shadows, waiting for an opportunity to kill Suzuki, just like Assassin. If possible, Jeanne wanted to send a signal to Archer, who was still at the banquet and ask her to "reminisce" with Assassin.

"...Where am I?" Suzuki woke up from the bedding, two slaves sleeping curled up beside him, unaware that their master had awakened.

"Just sleep peacefully. Aren't you exhausted? In the Holy Grail War, there won't be many nights for proper sleep." Jeanne turned her back to Suzuki and continued to pray. Servants didn't need food or sleep; they were incredibly powerful and mysterious "weapons."

--*--

At the almost-ending banquet, Attila was also somewhat intoxicated, leaning against her throne, watching the grand finale of the fire-breathing performance. Her slaves had been dismissed by her two hours ago, and she was in a good mood tonight. She didn't want to see those lowly slaves anymore.

"King, it seems like some disgusting person has arrived. Can I leave early as well?" Archer's keen hearing captured Assassin's footsteps and determined their exact location. She was a hunter who shot down the Calydonian boar, and she would never give up on seeking revenge.

"I have given orders that the newly arrived magus shouldn't drink. One of my generals, however, violated my command. Do you understand, Archer?" Attila, at this moment, showed no signs of drunkenness. Her eyes still held the wisdom and composure she had during the day. Attila, the Hun King nearing the age of 45, had long passed her girlish years and had witnessed countless acts of betrayal and folly.

"It seems my enemy is too impatient." Archer, too, remained calm. She desired revenge to cleanse her shame but didn't immediately act. Hunters enjoyed watching their prey confidently step into traps.

"No, Archer. It is our enemy." Attila corrected Archer's mistake. Although they hadn't formed a contract, according to the rules of the Holy Grail War, Attila could be considered Archer's Master. After all, the source of magical power for Archer was within Attila—the Holy Grail.

======

Check Out My Other Work: Shinji Matou At Your Service