Chapter 10
Olga uttered those words with an ironic smile dancing on her lips, "I'd be surprised if you could." Her voice carried a touch of disdain so tangible it felt almost possible to touch it in the air. I couldn't help but think that a subtle game of provocation was underway, but the presence of Altria by my side was a constant reminder that there was more at stake than mere scorn.
We continued to walk, Altria and I—an unusual pair amidst the chaotic surroundings—with her majestic posture mounted on her noble steed. I couldn't help but wonder when the Servant Caster would show himself. The uncertainty of his arrival hung over us like a shadow, but the confidence I felt with Altria there was unshakable. I looked at her, letting a fond smile slip, and she, confused by my expression, simply tilted her head, not understanding the reason for my sudden joy.
"It's nothing," I assured her as our gazes turned to Ritsuka and the rest of our group beginning to move. Altria, noticing my gesture, followed me without hesitation, her armor gleaming under the sun that fought to penetrate the heavy sky.
It was then that Romani Archaman's urgent voice broke the mounting tension, "I'm detecting a Servant, it's approaching you! Get ready!" His voice was an alarm, a siren announcing imminent danger. The unknown Servant sliced through the air, approaching with a speed that defied the eyes.
"The Holy Grail shall be mine!" The declaration came with a fierce leap from a nearby building, the figure of the Servant descending like a hawk upon its prey. Olga, who was closer, froze for a moment, vulnerable to the imminent attack.
"Mash!" Ritsuka's cry was laden with concern and command.
"Yes!" Mash's response was immediate and full of determination. She positioned herself in front of Olga with impressive agility, raising her shield in a silent promise of protection. But before the Servant's attack could be consummated, an incandescent sphere cut through the air.
A colossal fireball struck the Servant with the force of a catapult, illuminating the surroundings with its voracious glow and violently hurling it against the nearby debris.
The tension was palpable in the air as Romani, with urgency that reverberated in his voice, exclaimed: "Another servant!" There was no time to lose, the situation demanded immediate action.
And there, amidst the chaos of debris and dust, lay the figure who scoffed at others' obsession. Seated on the fragmented remains of a previous battle, the man—the Servant known as Caster—spoke with a tone of mockery that sounded almost philosophical. "Man, you are too obsessed with the holy grail, that's why you have been corrupted." His staff, a symbol of his power and position, pointed directly at the newly-struck Servant trying to recover among the rubble.
Through the whirlwind of emotions, I barely managed to whisper: "Caster..." It was almost unbelievable that he had chosen that moment to reveal himself. My gaze then shifted to the fallen figure. "Altria." The word escaped my lips as a silent acknowledgment of her imposing presence.
I couldn't help but notice the penetrating and fiery look of the horse which, after being slapped on the rear, turned to me with crimson eyes, laden with a fire that seemed to burn with the promise of turning indignation into ashes. "Understood." Altria's response was a sign of understanding, immediately followed by an explosion of movement. Her horse, as if propelled by an invisible spring, charged towards the fallen Servant, carrying with it the iron determination of its rider.
"Caster! You bastard!" The Servant's cry of anger rose above the noise of the battle, but barely had time to echo before being abruptly cut off by the sight of a threatening lance, slicing through the air towards him. With reflexes born from countless confrontations, he lunged to the side, dodging at the last moment. Altria's lance embedded itself with force into the debris, sending shards flying in all directions.
The servant's escape was by a hair's breadth. He rolled on the ground, covered in a thin layer of dust, in an evasive maneuver that took the breath away from anyone watching. Altria, the embodiment of dexterity and power, did not allow the pace of the fight to decrease. With a smooth yet forceful move, she pulled her lance from the debris, holding it in a combat-ready position once again.
The caster, with his hair of a deep and vibrant blue, ran his hands through it in a gesture of pure dismay. "You've got to be kidding me, two of her," he murmured bitterly, his voice tinged with unwanted surprise and a hint of irritation. He could never have imagined a scenario where he would face two versions of the same entity.
Olga, with her upright posture and determined gaze, was not so easily intimidated. "Who are you! What do you want?" she shouted at the caster. Although she sensed he might be an adversary, there was something about him that made her hesitate; he had offered help, and that deserved at least the chance for an explanation.
The caster simply shrugged, indifference painted on his face as he casually replied, "Just passing through." At that exact moment, his gaze shifted to Altria, who firmly held her servant's arm. With a fluid and precise movement, she threw her lance, which pierced the servant's body and brought about his death.
"Hm, he doesn't seem hostile," Romani commented, his voice laden with doubt. The true nature of this caster was an enigma; an ally or an enemy, he could not yet say.
The caster, in turn, showed intrigue at the situation. "Ein? Is this some kind of Magecraft?" he questioned, clearly interested in the phenomenon before him.
Meanwhile, I watched the scene with a subtle smile on my lips, murmuring to myself, "Another 10 saint quartz in the pocket." Joy was hard to contain - after all, who wouldn't be pleased with a reward? Romani, for some reason that eluded me, continued to explain the situation, even though I didn't trust a servant who appeared out of nowhere to help without any apparent reason.
"What a wretch," the words escaped my lips in an inaudible whisper as I cast a look filled with contempt at Olga. She, on the other hand, maintained a facade of distrust, silent, but clearly hesitant to trust. Her attitude toward me was almost an insult - she dared to question my reliability.
Suddenly, I felt movement on my head. "Fou!" The furry creature, which had chosen the top of my head as its throne, muttered something incomprehensible. This small and mysterious being seemed to mess with my hair as a form of communication. Fou, ever enigmatic, might understand more than it let on. And as it played with my hair, an intriguing question crossed my mind: could it be capable of reading thoughts? The creature seemed to react to my most eloquent silences, almost as if dancing to the rhythm of my internal musings.
I approached Altria with calculated steps, maintaining a steady gaze and a serene demeanor. My thoughts about the current situation needed to remain veiled, as imprudent revelations could compromise more than just my intentions.
However, I couldn't resist an impulsive gesture of disdain as I passed the horse, slapping it with a sound of disapproval. The animal, in turn, grumbled, clearly displeased with the treatment. Its response was an indignant snort, a clear sign that it did not appreciate that form of abrupt contact.
"Please, master, don't do that," Altria's voice sounded cold, but still, there was an undeniable beauty that intertwined with each word she pronounced.
It was just a joke on my part, but I realized that perhaps I had gone too far. "Alright, I'll stop," I said, but I couldn't resist one last gesture of provocation. I flipped the middle finger at Altria's horse, which reacted with a disdainful snort in my direction.
I turned to Altria, whose noble presence always made me a bit more uneasy than I would like to admit. "Altria, what do you think of them?" I asked, gesturing with my head towards the group nearby. Curiosity burned within me; it's not every day one has the privilege of hearing the opinion of a legendary king.
"Hm, they are good people," Altria pondered the question for a brief moment before answering. Her countenance was serene, and the smile that blossomed on my lips was inevitable – how could it not be, in the face of such simplicity and honesty?
"Yes, they are good people indeed," I echoed her words but maintained a reflective silence after. I wasn't sure if she had grasped the depth of my question, or if perhaps she simply preferred not to delve into the answer. However, a part of me suspected that it was the latter option that was correct.
"Why do you ask, master?" Altria inquired, her curiosity mirroring mine. For a moment, I considered sharing my true thoughts with her... but then, I shook my head, dismissing the idea.
"Well, I think it's time for us to part ways with them," I declared with a firmness that I hoped to be convincing. "I have some things to sort out." My words contained a half-truth. Yes, there were matters to resolve, but I omitted the main one: my greedy quest for saint quartz. I could not risk having others interfere in my personal hunt for these precious fragments of power, for, deep down, I already considered them mine and mine alone.
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