Beta read by Shigiya, Paragon of Awesomeness and Gamercrusher55.
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-Kuoh-
It was safe to say that things had, for the most part, finally settled into a quieter stretch. A period of calm had descended over Kuoh, though the concerns beneath the surface had not disappeared. The risk of new Servants being called always remained, and those already present were still factors no one could ignore.
Still, EMIYA was well aware that fretting over things beyond his control, or ones that didn't directly concern him just now, was pointless. Worrying himself sick about a hundred possible disasters would only waste energy; it wasn't like stewing over outcomes would change what the future held. No, the smarter approach was to keep his hands and mind busy with whatever was right in front of him. If there was something he could actually tackle, then he should focus there.
For him, that meant falling back into two familiar routines. One was his role as a teacher, with a classroom full of students to teach, stacks of assignments to correct, and keeping them in line whenever they caused trouble with their curiosity over his personal life. The other was the return to sparring, something he had neglected far longer than he would have liked. Training again with Tsubaki after such a long time, their current session felt like the beginning again. She stood before him now, glasses catching the light, weapon ready in hand as she shifted into a practiced stance.
"I hope your skills haven't rusted during my absence," he remarked, testing the balance of a regular longsword in his grip as he studied her. The same naginata she used in actual combat, since that was her weapon of choice, and both of them were doubting that she'd be able to land a hit on him anyway, as Archer had still held back a lot from the last time they had spared. No reason to change her weapon to something else she wasn't as familiar with.
The spectacled girl gave a faint nod, lowering into her form with her spear-like weapon held firm. "We've kept up sparring sessions with Rider after your group left for your mission in the Underworld."
"Does that mean you've grown more confident when facing a Servant?" he asked, curious to see just how far Rider must have pushed them. Unlike him, funnily enough, she would be seen as far harsher with her approach — ironically being more Spartan. She shared his beliefs about a tough situation, building up foundations in the shortest amount of time possible, but also pushing that idea with more broken bones. And while Sona's group was capable of all kinds of magic, they did not have a specialized healer like Asia around to restore them.
Tsubaki's smile grew ever so slightly. "Why don't we find out?"
She moved swiftly, her first step carrying her forward with the intention of catching him off guard, most likely. Her power as a Queen with both the speed of a Knight and the strength of a Rook was on full display, twisting her entire body for a swing with added momentum to give it that extra boost.
"Hn!" Since the spar was intended to make her used to fighting strong opponents in the future who might even be as powerful as a Servant, he could not dismiss the possibility of Sona's group encountering someone with ridiculous strength… Saber came to mind. The hot-headed blonde was more likely to eat her own sword than ever think about holding back. So he adjusted his approach in this spar, relying more on pure strength rather than technique to stop her strike with the flat side of his blade.
The impact caused her naginata to bounce off, the sudden stop nearly making her drop the weapon from the force reverberating up her arms. Thankfully, she proved her earlier words correct by a quick recovery and continuing to attack without giving him any space by sending a flurry of slashes his way.
Their weapons collided in a quick exchange, steel blades striking in short bursts. He matched her rhythm smoothly, blocking and countering each thrust. The tempo rose as she pressed forward, her polearm jabbing with force meant to corner him. Yet her pace faltered before long; a small gap in her timing was all the man needed, stepping into her guard and striking lightly against the top of her head with the flat of his sword, and stepping back before she could react.
"Ah!" she exclaimed, retreating a few steps as her hand flew up to her forehead. Her lips pressed into a pout as she adjusted her glasses. "You almost broke these!"
"Do you even need glasses?" Archer asked evenly. "The same question goes to your King. Both of you wear them despite Devil physiology making poor eyesight irrelevant."
"I had them back when I was human, I just keep them around because I've gotten used to them… And we both like how they look."
She let out a small huff, but quickly reset her stance. The reincarnated Devil attacked again, this time with greater speed than before. Her weapon swept through the air in long arcs, keeping him at range as she sought to push him back. Her strikes were faster now, more… bold by clearly sacrificing defense in favor of pressuring her foe, but flaws slipped through. He caught each one, turning them away, wasting little energy while her stamina visibly started to dwindle at great speed at having to maintain such a powerful offense until she finally stumbled and was forced back. Her momentum broken, Tsubaki dropped to her knees.
"Hah… hah… hah…" Tsubaki's breathing came out in ragged gasps, sweat dampening her brow as she lifted her gaze toward him. She shook her head, a rueful expression slipping through. "G-Guess I'm still not at that level."
"You actually are closer than you give yourself credit for. But you can only perform that well for a short amount of time; it's just not efficient in the long run. Try to use more controlled movements that conserve energy like I do. They are pretty basic, but are easily among the most effective during combat. It's why the greatest masters of the blade mainly practice the fundamental movements rather than more complicated maneuvers; they're by far the most effective." Archer replied, lowering his sword completely. "Sona should be proud to have a Queen as capable as you." His tone shifted as he added, "Speaking of Sona, what's going on with her lately?"
The question gave the Queen pause. Tsubaki hesitated, her face showing a flicker of discomfort before she composed herself again. Archer watched her carefully, raising an eyebrow.
"Don't tell me you haven't noticed the circles under her eyes," he continued. "I've seen her in the halls, looking worn down. Something isn't right. Is she still worrying about what happened in the Underworld?"
"I think so," Tsubaki admitted at last.
"Stress from the Servant situation, huh."
"She has a habit of taking on too many concerns at once," Tsubaki admitted, getting up with some difficulties but managing to do so without his help. "Usually she manages without trouble, but lately it's been harder for her. She even forgot a meeting today and had to be reminded."
"Knowing that girl, I can make a guess that Sona forgetting meetings is very uncharacteristic of her," Archer said, and she nodded in agreement.
His thoughts ran over the information. 'If it were only about the Servant issue, that would be one thing. But there might be more weighing on her. Perhaps the dream cycle… Rider has been around long enough for her to have experienced several of Rider's memories at this point. A life like Medusa's isn't something easy to glimpse without cost—especially towards the end of her legend.'
"Did Rider say anything?" he asked after a moment.
"She tried to speak with her," Tsubaki replied, her shoulders lowering faintly, "but it didn't change much."
This certainly was a delicate situation. Although Archer was not bound to her as her Servant nor held any obligation, he still believed that, as an ally, it was important for Rias not to see her closest friend in such a state. If Sona encountered problems, sooner or later, the burden would fall on the Gremory group to assist as well.
He finally spoke with a calm nod. "Alright, I'll take a look and see what I can do tomorrow. In the meantime, let's talk about you. You haven't made much progress, have you?"
Caught off guard, Tsubaki faltered, her words stumbling out unevenly. "W-what do you mean? Didn't you just say I'm improving with my naginatajutsu?" Her grip tightened around her weapon, both hands clutching the weapon as doubts started to settle behind those violet and light brown heterochromatic eyes. The nervous look on her face drew a soft chuckle from him, who shook his head lightly.
"I wasn't talking about your fighting skills," he clarified, his voice carrying a teasing lilt. "I meant the other matter you came to me for help with."
It took her a few moments to realize what he was referring to, but when understanding finally dawned, her eyes widened with a startled glimmer. "Oh." The single sound escaped her lips as a rush of color spread quickly across her cheeks. Archer could no longer contain himself and laughed openly, his earlier restraint crumbling into a louder, amused burst.
"It's not funny!" Tsubaki exclaimed, her normally composed voice rising in an uncharacteristic pitch. "Your group went to the Underworld, and I never had the chance to spend any time with Yuuto-kun! And when all of you returned, he started vanishing every day whenever I tried to find him! No one knows where he's going, not even his King! I even tried approaching him earlier today, but he claimed he had something urgent to take care of and disappeared again!"
Archer's smile faded into a more thoughtful look with a hum that soon followed. He understood the boy's behavior all too well, given what happened in the Underworld when Berserker unleashed his Noble Phantasm. Since returning, Yuuto had been training with almost obsessive focus, refining both his swordsmanship and magic.
From what he gathered, the blonde Knight had even found guidance from someone who could help deepen his grasp of his Sacred Gear and various demonic spells. If he recalled, Rias spoke about Okita Souji, the one from this world, being the one who could be training him since he was Sirzechs' Knight.
"Is someone talking about me?"
"Kya!"
Tsubaki leapt into the air like a startled cat, releasing a sharp cry as a familiar voice suddenly rang out from behind her. She spun around quickly and saw the very person they had been discussing. Yuuto stood there, wearing his usual gentle smile, already prepared for their training with a longsword in hand.
"Sorry, I'm late," he said smoothly. "I had to help a client. She had been looking forward to seeing me for days, and I promised her a relaxing date once her work was finished."
"I would say speak of the devil, but in this case, that feels a little too on the nose," Archer commented dryly, turning toward Tsubaki, who was now looking anywhere but at Yuuto while more than likely praying — Archer held back a snort at that — that the blond Devil didn't hear their conversation. "Our friend here was just saying how much she misses her favorite sparring partner. She told me exactly how much she wished you were around more often."
"Archer, please!" Tsubaki gasped, her face a mix of embarrassment and desperation as she tried to silence him, trying to jab him with her polearm but failed with each attempt as he just misdirected it, though her blush worsened upon realizing her reaction only made the situation more awkward.
"Really?" the Knight asked. "That's nice to hear. I've also missed our training and daily matches, Tsubaki-san. I'll try to stay around as much as I can, but can't make any promises due to certain important personal matters."
The phrasing, however, struck differently than she had hoped. For a moment, her expression stiffened, and a trace of disappointment flickered in her eyes. It was obvious she had wished to hear something more personal about the way he viewed their time together than sparring, something that would have shown he valued her presence beyond that. Archer noticed, but he simply dismissed it in silence. He was no more than an observer to this little drama, and he had no intention of getting involved further — or more than he already had by setting these sessions between the two of them.
"Alright then," he said firmly, breaking the silence before it lingered too long. "Since both of you are here, we might as well begin properly. Tsubaki, this will serve as your final lesson for the day, so pay close attention." He dismissed the simple longsword he had been using earlier, letting it fade before summoning a weapon identical to the naginata wielded by the vice president of the student council.
"As you both know," Archer continued, rolling his shoulders and then twirling the weapon around with ease as if it were a toy, "there is a growing chance that in the near future we will be forced to deal with Servants, and I can't guarantee that either Rider or I will always be there to protect you. My advice to you is simple: never engage one in direct combat if you can avoid it. However, circumstances may strip you of that choice, leaving you with no option but to fight. To prevent either of you from being cut down in an instant, I'll be teaching you how to survive such an encounter."
"You think I'll be able to one day take on a Servant?" Kiba asked, surprise evident in his voice. He only received a head shake from the white-haired bowman in response.
"I never said you would win in a fight against them yourself. I only said you might survive. Even if you possessed the skill, both of you are at a major disadvantage when it comes to strength alone. Even a Servant with E-rank Strength can bend metal as they are several times stronger than a fit human, and the difference between ranks only gets bigger the higher you go up. Unfortunately for both of you, someone like Saber possesses Strength ranked A+, and even Rider's is ranked at A."
He extended the weapon in his hand, holding it in a stance reminiscent of a certain Irish warrior, though instead of a crimson spear, he carried a naginata. His eyes narrowed slightly.
"Do not worry. I asked Asia to come by and help me."
In the next moment, his form vanished before their eyes as though he had simply disappeared from existence. Both Kiba and Tsubaki froze in place, stunned by the sheer speed of his movement. Kiba's complexion drained pale, old memories from the days before the Rating Game with Riser flashing back to him. His body reacted on instinct, a second blade forming in his other hand through Sword Birth. It turned out to be the correct choice, as the instinctive creation clashed a heartbeat later against a flawless arc of steel.
The strike still shattered his blade in an instant and sent him flying backward through the air.
"Yuuto-kun!"
Tsubaki remained rooted where she stood, struggling to process what she had just witnessed.
"You need to be faster than that. Don't think and just move," was the only thing she heard before she, too, was struck and met a similar end.
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(Next day)
Just as Tsubaki had said, Sona truly looked exhausted. The dark-haired heiress to the Sitri sat slumped against her chair, eyes half-lidded as she gazed blankly at the ceiling. Her violet eyes carried no real focus, dark bags under them, the signs of strain and sleeplessness visible in her expression.
When the Heroic Spirit arrived at the student council office after finishing his regular classes, he found the chamber emptier than usual. Only Sona and Rider were present, with the other members of the peerage nowhere to be seen. The latter was in her regular civilian clothing, reading a book quietly with the sunlight illuminating her figure from behind.
"You've seen better days," he said while sliding the door open, and the sound broke the quiet and startled her awake. She jolted with a small cry, nearly tipping from her chair.
"Ah!" Barely managing to steady herself, she blinked several times, her mind needing a moment to return to the present. Her eyes then settled on him. "Archer?"
"So you finally noticed me. Here I am, supposedly the one who should be the most worn down after nearly dying, yet you seem determined to surpass me in that regard."
"It's nothing," she muttered. "I've just been catching up with paperwork and needed to rest my eyes a bit, that's all."
He did not respond to her excuse, instead glancing toward Rider. The Servant's silence said more than her Master's words.
"She has not slept for nearly two days," Rider admitted. "While also barely eating anything all day, aside from two cups of coffee and a bar of chocolate."
"Rider!" Sona snapped, her voice rising. "Where does your loyalty stand?"
"Forgive me, Master. A slip of the tongue, nothing more," Rider replied, though her faint smile betrayed her thoughts. "But he is correct. You are acting as if the world is already ending. Strictly speaking, it should be us Servants who are the most strained. If the summoning system truly will allow for countless individuals to summon Servants without limit, then that in itself qualifies as a possible end-of-the-world scenario."
Sona looked down, then proceeded to answer with a voice softened into a quiet murmur. "For all we know, most of those Servants could be summoned by our enemies. As much as I want to trust both of your strengths, I cannot believe we would be able to hold out against several enemy Servants attacking us at once. Berserker alone was enough of a nightmare from what I heard, and ripped off your arm. This week alone has brought one troubling report after another. Tell me, with matters like this, how am I expected to sleep at all, much less soundly?"
Archer shook his head. Even Rias, who was aware of the dangers, did not dwell so deeply on these matters, for she was happy that he was alive at the very least. There was truth to Sona's concerns, but her perspective was not complete.
"You are forgetting something important," he said while shaking his head. "Even if by some unlikely chain of events dozens or even hundreds of Servants were summoned with the system not having a failsafe limit in place, and even if those responsible tried to push the world toward ruin by using the heroes of the past, what makes you think the summoned would accept such an outcome?"
He gave her a faint smile, and the expression earned him a puzzled look from Sona. "Even in the extremely unlikely case that hundreds of Servants were brought forth, with a system complex and powerful enough to maintain them all, the idea of the world falling into chaos remains doubtful."
"I don't understand," she admitted.
This time, it was Rider who continued, and he let her, seeing that she was also on the same page as him.
"Despite who we were in life, whether human, monster, or Divine Spirit, the majority of the Heroic Spirits hold legends tied to saving others. Some saved villages, some kingdoms, and some even saved the world itself. Even with all our tragedies, most would not wish to see human history itself end."
Archer nodded. "We are not destroyers. If many Servants were summoned under a Master or group of Masters who wished to see the world destroyed, you can be certain a great number would refuse to obey. Destroying the world would just mean going against their very legend and effort that led them to forever become part of the Throne. While there are certainly some bad apples, even those people would not wish to see this world vanish — even if it's not our original one — some would definitely wish to explore it further."
"Bu-But the Command Seals," Sona said, her voice tight. "They could be used to override that free will entirely."
He shook his head again. While she had a point in worrying about those, they were by no means an ultimate tool that would work without faults or consequences for its users. "The Command Seals are only a temporary safeguard at best in the form of a large amount of concentrated mana. I know several Heroic Spirits who could break free from such restraints, even seize control themselves, or just resist them through sheer unnatural will alone, or, of course, Magic Resistance or some similar skill. You only need to look at what happened with Berserker; even with Command Seals, he ended up nearly killing his own Master. Also, do you really think things wouldn't have turned out far worse if that boy had managed to stay in control of his mad Servant?"
"You think Diodora was hiding some grand plan?"
"No, I don't. I never met the boy, so I cannot say for certain. But anyone who would go behind Ajuka's back to steal something of that magnitude, then attempt to summon a Servant for himself and even sell the knowledge to our enemies — tell me, how could I ever consider him an ally? Forgive me if he was close to you, but from my standpoint, he was nothing of the sort."
He spoke plainly, gave his thoughts without hesitation, then turned as though ready to leave. Just as he stepped forward, Sona called his name, stopping him in his tracks.
"Yes?"
"Since you are here, and with how stressful things have been lately, would you mind playing a game of chess with me? It has been far too long since we last played."
Chess. That game again. She certainly held a great deal of interest in it, not unlike his own Master once did. He thought about it briefly. There seemed little reason to refuse, and he could spare the time for a single match.
"Very well," he said, turning back to her. He took his seat as she eagerly began arranging the board and pieces. Rider, who had been reading a worn paperback in the corner, lifted her eyes with curiosity.
"You haven't played a game with her before?" he asked the woman, who only shook her head.
"Most of the time, once you had left to go downstairs, she asked me to help train the others. After those sessions, my Master would be far too exhausted or even asleep to sit down for a game, let alone focus on the board."
"No more delays, let's play!" Sona declared, the fatigue that had weighed her earlier somehow fading away as if it had never existed. In fact, her voice even suddenly carried a loud, clear enthusiasm.
"Since you are the guest technically, I'll let you decide whether you want the first move or not." She pushed the finished board forward, the carved black and white pieces lined with precision on polished wood. It was clear she wanted a rematch after what had happened during their last encounter. He knew she had been waiting for it, and though part of him considered teasing her, he was not arrogant enough to believe victory would come easily. Chess had never been a game he indulged in much during his earlier life, though he knew more than the average person on the street did thanks to his time at the Clock Tower.
"I'll give you the first move," he said, resting his hand against the side of the table with the black king piece in hand, watching as Sona wasted no time moving her pawn to E4. He knew this to be the standard opening, but he felt like not playing a standard game, even if he still intended to give her a challenge.
A similar approach to what he used in real combat.
Rather than the standard response with his own E-pawn, he moved the one next to it to D5, to which she wasted no time in taking with her pawn, and he, in turn, took that piece with the now freed-up queen.
"Two turns in and you have your queen in the center, I wonder what you're planning," she commented while moving her knight to F3, and he just shrugged. Of course, having such a high-value piece in the center so early made it a juicy target he could ill afford to lose, and soon enough the black queen found itself being moved in on while Archer moved a bishop closer to the white line to take the pressure off his queen.
A few more moves and Sona had maneuvered her bishop to protect both her own queen and king, while he mimicked the girl with a knight at C6. This continued with them moving more pieces on the field, and his queen retreated to safety, and then having his first bishop finally take her knight, sacrificing itself to take the momentum out of a possible offense.
"You're playing rather aggressively compared to last time," Sona remarked as she leaned forward, eyes sharp on the arrangement before her. "Are you trying to corner me into an early check?" A trace of amusement tugged at her lips.
"Is that so? I hadn't noticed," he replied with a faint smile. His moves had been made by instinct rather than calculation, guided by what felt appropriate rather than by strategy. Turning slightly, he addressed Rider. "Since you've been training her during my absence, does she still fight the way she plays? Same principles?"
The question caught Sona mid-move as she moved a pawn to avenge her knight, her hand halting for just a moment. Rider's faint smile confirmed the suspicion.
"She does," Rider answered with quiet certainty. "She even attempted to sacrifice a Pawn once, hoping to distract me enough to exploit an opening."
He exhaled, shaking his head slightly. "Poor Saji. I only hope you didn't go too hard on that boy."
"I held back enough," Rider replied without hesitation. "Five broken ribs and maybe a damaged organ, but it was certainly less severe than our first encounter."
He shuddered at the thought, feeling even worse for the Pawn. Being on the receiving end of any of Rider's kicks could easily be one of the most painful things these young Devils had ever experienced. A leg sweep that felt no different than getting hit by a metal support beam full force. Yet the boy had faced it knowingly, even embracing the pain for the sake of his King's plan. Whether that was admirable loyalty or foolish devotion, he could not decide as he took his next turn.
"Oh, a queen-side castle? Didn't think you would know that move. You continue to act as if you are still a novice to the game, but you still surprise me with your tactics," she mentioned after seeing his move, then proceeding with a castling of her own.
'She definitely is playing defensively,' thought the man while moving his knight to D4.
"Are you even taking this match seriously?" Sona asked suddenly after capturing another of his knights with her queen three moves later, after moving her pawn and knight to A4 and B5, respectively. Her eyes flicked toward him, a sharp gleam of irritation mixing with focus. "At this rate, it will be mate in five turns, maybe six."
"I'll pretend I understand what that means," he said casually.
"You absolutely do understand! You used the same phrase during one of our first matches to declare my victory!"
"Did I?" He raised his brows, feigning innocence. "I don't recall."
"You—" Cutting her own words short, Sona's lips tightened as she searched the board again. For the next two turns, she kept busy rearranging her line by moving her pawns and bishop after he took her remaining knight with a pawn.
"By the way, I heard things went quite well with your sister during class observation day," he remarked, watching the pawn he'd used to remove her last knight be taken.
He felt like the game was reaching its end soon, with Sona's approach becoming more aggressive as the board became more open now. But she betrayed no reaction at the mention of that day. Only when she repositioned her own pawns with deliberate care and took his own did she finally respond, giving him a glare.
"I still haven't forgiven you for that," she muttered with a slight pout. "Do you have any idea how overbearing, let alone embarrassing, my sister can be? She dragged both me and poor Rider into her ridiculous concert and forced us to sing and dance in front of the entire audience while wearing her ridiculous outfits! By the end, I was convinced she was planning to kidnap my Servant and take her to the Underworld just so she could feature her in one of her TV shows as a backup dancer, or worse, make her her sidekick! I will become the laughing stock of the Underworld at this rate!"
Her Servant, standing just behind her, did not flinch at the complaint, but she did give Archer a look that told him that she wasn't happy about that incident either. To that, he wore a sly grin as he pulled his phone from his pocket and tapped the screen. "Oh, you must be talking about this? It has been making the rounds among the students. Quite popular, I must admit."
In real time, he watched as the student council president's eyes widened in horror. The small video that began to play showed her singing alongside her sister, stumbling awkwardly over the lyrics at several points, her expression betraying both reluctance and awkwardness.
"You are a wonderful singer, Master," Rider said with a faint smile, amusement coloring her words.
"Shut up! I-I am not!"
He was not finished. Swiping the screen, he played another recording. This one made Rider's own expression falter, a rare mirror of her master's embarrassment. It showed the purple-haired woman dressed in a magical girl outfit several sizes too small, which further emphasized her generous curves and exposed far more skin than was allowed on school grounds — which was already a low bar to begin with given the length of the girls' skirts — cheeks flushed red as she tried to hide behind her Master while the crowd cheered her on, and Serafall forced her to dance.
Something she did very well.
"This might be the first time I've ever seen you make a face like that," he said lightly, watching Sona, Serafall, and Rider making several poses that would've looked no different from a pin-up model shoot. "That alone speaks volumes. Though I am a bit curious as to why you were so embarrassed, your combat gear already hugs your body in a similar fashion, doesn't it? Ah!"
In an instant, her hand darted forward, faster than most eyes could ever follow, shaped like claws to snatch the phone from his grip. He had been expecting it, though, and leaned back a fraction sooner, keeping the device just out of reach.
The movement caused her upper body to press against him, where her warmth mixed with his, with her arm stretched forward but unable to close the gap, and instead, she clasped his forearm. Strands of her purple hair brushed his face, tickling his nose, though what caught his attention most was her expression. It matched the embarrassed look from the video, but was now sharpened by anger as her eyes locked onto his.
"Give me that. You wouldn't like me when I'm angry," she hissed.
"Oh, I'm not so sure about that. I've had more than a few experiences dealing with beautiful women who have fierce tempers," he replied with a crooked smile. "And I'm afraid I can't let this masterpiece slip from my hand. It may very well be more valuable than plenty of the Noble Phantasms in a certain King's treasury. Even he would be envious of this little piece in my hand."
His words, purposefully made to trigger the beautiful woman in front of him, worked wonders.
"You've gotten rather arrogant… Shirou," she whispered, deliberately choosing the name she knew would strike a nerve. Ironic that it was also the same alias he used when acting as a teacher, and her use of it carried a mocking edge. "I've learned a great deal from my alternate self on what can and can't break you… And I do wonder if the same tricks that made him obedient also work on you."
"You're comparing me to that brat?" he asked, voice becoming low and challenging, but the teasing tone in his voice was still evident.
"Hard not to, considering how you're behaving the same way," she answered coolly, her hot breath caressing his cheek, her violet eyes staring into his. Her face drew closer until he could feel the faint brush of her breath against his skin. "If you want to prove me wrong, then be a good boy and delete it."
"You're only making it harder for me to do so when you are making such cute reactions."
"Shir—"
"—Ahem!"
A loud throat clearing broke the air. Both froze at once and turned their heads to see Sona standing nearby, arms folded across her chest, her expression stern but tinged with a red flush.
"I would appreciate it if the two of you refrained from flirting in the student council room, much less when I am present," she said firmly, though the heat on her cheeks betrayed her annoyance was mixed with embarrassment. Rider released a long sigh, her eyes sliding toward him again. Her glare was still sharp, her glasses reflecting the light as if to punctuate the point.
"You've made yourself quite a dangerous enemy today, Archer."
"Have I?" he answered without missing a beat, meeting her look with calm amusement.
"Two can play this game," she shot back, pushing herself off him with her palms pressed firmly against his chest. Straightening her clothes and sliding her glasses back into place, her voice cooled but carried a warning. "I would advise you to watch your back in the next few days. Of course, I won't act if you delete those pictures and videos of mine."
"Hey, why just yours!?" Sona cut in sharply from the background, slapping the table and accidentally having some pieces fall, which she quickly tried to recover. "Tell him to delete mine too!"
The young woman's interruption was ignored entirely by both parties, who were wholly focused on one another. Rider's gaze stayed locked on him, her expression unflinching. She should have known how he would respond; in truth, she already did. The faint curl of her lips only grew colder when his answer came without hesitation a second later.
"No. I don't think I will," he said casually with a smirk.
The two remained fixed on one another for a few drawn-out seconds, the air between them taut, before Rider scoffed and turned for the door.
"Where are you going, Rider?" Sona asked, curiosity piqued.
"Just making sure no one outside this room has that footage," Rider replied, her hand resting on the handle before sliding the door closed behind her. How she intended to accomplish that, Archer did not know. He had no intention of finding out either. Despite her job being that of a librarian, that would do little to inconvenience her, and he knew perfectly well what she was capable of.
"Even I wouldn't poke Rider like that, Archer," Sona said, her tone carrying a mix of caution and amusement. "You never struck me as such a daredevil."
Archer leaned back slightly, his eyes falling to the chessboard nearing its conclusion with both mostly moving their bishops, pawns, and for Sona, both of her rooks. "You would normally be correct. I suppose I'm simply curious to see how she will act. I don't really have a reason beyond that. Though I will admit she does look cute in the video. As do you."
His explanation was thin even to his own ears, but it was the truth. Their current situation had been unusual enough, where neither was forced into bloodshed or survival against the other. In this state of uneasy calm, he had discovered something surprising. Despite her calm and stoic exterior, Rider was genuinely amusing to tease, a rare kind of entertainment in a setting where most things were pressed down with rules and restraint.
"Hmph. Whatever," Sona muttered, narrowing her eyes but hiding the faintest blush beneath her composed demeanor. "I'll pretend I understand. But you should stop with the flirting. It is against school policy for teachers to involve themselves with one another romantically."
A smile played on his lips as he made his next move on the board, by just moving his King one position to his left on C8.
"What?" Sona blinked, startled.
Instead of the move she had been expecting from one of his skills, he deliberately shifted a piece in a way that left her with a wide opening, one even she could hardly believe. Sona, who, despite her earlier words, had in fact been pushed closer to defeat in this game than most of her opponents had ever managed, found herself staring at the board with widened eyes.
"Oh my… that was quite a blunder. An embarrassing mistake on my part, but I'm afraid it's too late to take it back," he said with a small shrug. Though in truth, the move had been far from careless.
Sona's mouth parted in surprise, her hand frozen above the board. She didn't move immediately. Both of them could see it clearly: there was only one path left for her, one that sealed victory in her favor. The realization left her almost stunned with just how… quickly it happened.
Archer reached forward and took her hand, gently guiding her queen across the board himself to C6. "Congratulations, Sona," he whispered, his tone light. "You have me in a corner, whatever moves I try to pull won't matter since you'd win on the next turn either way. The best I could hope to do is drag this out for a couple more turns. I believe they call this a resignation on my end. No point in fighting a losing battle, that's not my speciality."
The irony of his words shortly after fighting a battle against two Servants and a Dragon King in the Underworld was not lost on him.
He accepted defeat without hesitation, while the Sitri heiress sat there as though she hadn't even processed her triumph.
"Forgive my lack of skill. I am still far from being a master at this game like you are," he continued. "Hopefully, the next time we play, I will provide a better challenge."
With her expression showing signs of a better mood, Archer pushed himself from his chair and began walking toward the door, content that the game had served its purpose.
"Wait!" Sona's voice rang out again, filled with urgency.
He paused and turned slightly, giving her only a sidelong glance.
"You were leading me to this outcome from the twelfth round, weren't you?" she pressed. "You knew about the blunder with that pawn piece. You saw it much earlier than I did!"
"My Mind's Eye can be quite helpful for many things, but it does not give me an actual glimpse of the future, so I believe you are overthinking it. You are simply better than me. There are still many things in this world I have yet to fully understand," Archer replied. "Contracts, rules, small technicalities. As a Servant and no longer human, I am ultimately my Master's familiar. But I still wouldn't want to risk testing whether losing a game of chess to a familiar who is also a spirit could be counted as a win against you… and finalize your wedding."
The words hit her harder than any move on the board. Her eyes widened in disbelief, darting between him and the pieces before her. A long moment passed before she smacked her forehead with her palm.
"Judging by your reaction, I assume you forgot that particular rule amidst your enthusiasm for playing," he said calmly, watching her carefully.
"Rias must have been the one who told you."
"She did, quite a while ago in fact, back when you still did not know of my existence." He knew very well she was not trying to manipulate him into marrying her. That was not the kind of girl Sona was. She would never cling to some technicality or exploit a contract to force a relationship, especially when it came to something as serious as marriage, since Devils could live to be thousands of years old. She had simply gotten too absorbed in the challenge and wanted to push herself to her intellectual limits against him.
"The contract is not so flimsy that it would collapse the moment I am defeated, or else I would have been married to Rias a long time ago." She tried to explain it, but there was something under her breath, though he was unsure if his hearing was playing tricks on him or if it was only his imagination. Still, there was a faint note of uncertainty in her tone that he did not miss.
Sona herself was not certain of the outcome if he were to defeat her.
"Have you ever lost to anyone besides Rias?" he asked.
"…"
Her silence was the only answer he needed.
"Don't stress yourself over small matters. Just take it easy for a while. You have capable allies by your side, ready and willing to assist you however you need."
He left her with those words before turning away. Never in his life had he thought he would speak like that to anyone aside from maybe Rin, yet Sona gave him the impression of being someone who allowed her thoughts to spiral too far, worrying about every little possibility.
On his way back to the teachers' lounge, Archer was met with something that immediately sharpened his gaze. At the edge of the open window rested a spotted dove.
The bird was native to Japan, and by no means an abnormal sight in itself, yet this one clutched a folded envelope in its beak and fixed its eyes squarely on him, unmoving as if waiting for him to approach.
"A familiar," he muttered under his breath. He reached out, careful in his movement, and took the letter from the bird's mouth. The dove did not resist, simply fluttering away once its task was done. Opening the envelope, he found a message inside that drew a frown to his face.
"Hmph. We may have a matter on our hands, Master."
{Break}
-Kuoh Outskirts-
Beyond the town of Kuoh, the landscape shifted into hills that cradled the city from a distance. Paths wound their way across the slopes, one leading toward one of the oldest shrines in the region while another climbed further upward to a secluded clearing. From that vantage point, the entire city could be seen, spread out below like a painted scene, with rooftops and streets framed by the slow descent of the sun.
At the very edge, near a weathered fence of timber that looked as though it had stood for decades, a man lingered. A cigar rested between his fingers, its smoke curling upward in lazy spirals. He wore a long coat of leather that brushed against the collars of his boots, and behind him, a small table bore a half-empty bottle of whiskey alongside two clean tumblers. His blonde-and-black hair caught the light, his goatee marking his features with a rugged edge as he waited without hurry.
"It's a beautiful sight," the man said, his gaze fixed on the horizon. "Humans are rather fortunate. The Underworld may be my home, and it certainly has wonders of its own, but the world of men feels calmer… simpler. I've never grown fond of that purple sky back there. After a few centuries staring at it, the color turns sickening — purple is not exactly a calming colour like clear blue, regardless of the artificial lighting or a fake moon. Don't you think so?"
Behind him, the air rippled, breaking apart into streams of blue light. Small motes shimmered and gathered until a form solidified in their midst. Archer emerged in his combat garb, standing a few paces away from the man who had summoned him with that peculiar letter that even ended with a small smiley face squiggled at the end.
"Can't say much about the Underworld," Archer replied evenly. "I haven't spent enough time there to judge it properly. But this place does have its own charm, I will give you that." His eyes swept over the city in the distance before returning their focus to the man.
"I can see why my brother remained here for so long. I can't fault him for it, since I ended up doing the same. I only wish his mind had been focused on the simpler pleasures that life offers rather than plunging us all into another senseless war just because he felt bored."
"'Bored' is one way to put it; warmonger is a better descriptor for his case. A man who lost his purpose and sought to reclaim it with the excuse of doing so for the sake of his race by making them the winner, even if that meant their extinction. You are not saddened by his passing," Archer remarked, not as a question but as a statement.
The man chuckled, finally turning to face him for the first time. He strode to the table, lifted the bottle, and poured amber liquid into both glasses before speaking again.
"Is that the impression I'm giving you? I suppose I can understand why you might think that. But no, you're wrong about me. His death struck me harder than I care to admit. He was family, after all, and there aren't many of us left. Losing him carved a hollow in me that words cannot describe. A good bottle of whiskey helps soften the edge of that pain, even if only for a while."
He slid one glass across the table toward Archer and lifted the other in his own hand. "This one was distilled three centuries ago. One of my most treasured bottles. Try it." He raised it to his lips and drank with no hesitation.
Archer, however, only looked down at the glass he had been offered without touching it. His refusal was plain to see.
"You're a stiff one, aren't you?" the man muttered with a faint roll of his eyes. "If you're worried I poisoned it, rest assured, I didn't. Doubt any kind of poison will work on you quickly enough before those swords of yours come raining down on me. Or you can somehow resist that with how weird your bodies are."
"Your previous actions have not given me much reason to trust you, and to be honest, I am not much of a drinker when it comes to whiskey," Archer said, his tone calm but firm as his sharp eyes stayed fixed on the man before him. "Or any alcohol, frankly. I prefer to use them in different ways rather than drinking them."
"Tch, I should have brought wine instead. Unfortunately, that woman took all of the good stuff for herself and left me with nothing except what can be bought at the supermarket," the Fallen Angel replied, scratching the back of his head with an easy, almost playful expression before extending his hand. A faint smirk curved his lips as he added, "In any event, nice to finally meet you. You can call me Azazel. You probably know me as the Governor General of the Fallen Angels. At the moment, though, I am just a man who really does not want to be in conflict with any of you Servants. Or the Devils and Angels for that matter."
His words were straightforward, the presentation almost casual. There was nothing overtly threatening in his posture, yet Archer knew enough not to dismiss the possibility of deception. Even so, he accepted the handshake. The gesture seemed to amuse Azazel, who smiled even wider as their hands clasped.
"There we go," Azazel chuckled. "I was worried you would draw one of your scary swords and stab me on the spot."
"I get the feeling that you made a lot of assumptions about me leading up to this. I'm not a Berserker." Archer replied coolly.
Azazel laughed openly at that. "Hahaha, can you blame me? You Servants have not exactly made the best first impressions. One of your kind killed my brother, and then right after nearly killed my protégé by punching him into the ground without a second thought. Another tried to poison me simply to test how resistant we were. And a third one…" He gave a short, quiet exhale through his nose. "That one I understand nearly drove an entire area into complete madness just by standing in the moonlight. Had that happened near a city, even I shudder to imagine what would have followed."
Archer's eyes narrowed slightly at that information, piecing together the implications. The casual tone of the Governor General did little to blunt the weight of the things he was revealing.
"You called me here," Archer said at last. "I doubt this meeting is simply to apologize for what Kokabiel has done."
"Well, I was also hoping to share a good drink. Can't a guy just want to do exactly that?" Azazel quipped back, tilting his head as he poured himself another measure of liquor and took a seat with deliberate ease.
"That would be a first, in my experience," Archer replied, his arms folding loosely as his eyes tracked the older man's movements.
Azazel gave a small shrug. "I really would like to prove you wrong, but unfortunately, you're correct. As much as I'd like to sit here, have a drink, and share a pleasant conversation with you, circumstances make that difficult. Things are moving too fast for me to relax these days."
For once, Archer inclined his head slightly in agreement. This was the first line that felt entirely honest from the Governor General, and it told him more than Azazel likely realized.
"The world is changing," Azazel continued, his gaze drifting briefly to the city skyline visible through the window. "Factions that were once powerful are now in decline. They, of course, don't like that, and so they've seized on the revelation of Heroic Spirit summoning as a lifeline. Many are practically salivating at the chance to summon their own champions, hoping to revive their dwindling influence. You'd be surprised at how many people are breathing down my neck, demanding I arrange meetings with Sirzechs' or Serafall's siblings. Some have even offered enormous sums just to have me ask the girls to hand the ritual's information over."
Archer's stance shifted. He uncrossed and then re-crossed his arms, leaning back against a nearby tree as his eyes followed the horizon. The movement did not go unnoticed. Azazel's lips curved faintly again.
"You're acting as if you don't already have it," Archer said quietly.
"Who would have thought that such a simple summoning ritual could draw this much attention from so many big players?" Azazel replied, his smirk fading into something closer to tired amusement. Both sides already knew it would only be a lie if he were to deny it.
"You should have heard some of the offers. Some gods were even willing to sell entire countries for it."
Could that even be done? Then again, Kuoh, in the eyes of the supernatural world as a whole, belonged to the Devils. While Japan as a whole counted as the territory of the Shinto faction, this piece of land counted more as an embassy of sorts for the Devils and a gift to Sirzechs.
"Most likely planning to take it back once they've summoned their heroes and started another war," Archer finally said, not bothering to soften his words. He had seen enough of both humans and gods to know that promises made in desperation were rarely honored once the balance of power shifted.
"Can't argue with that," Azazel admitted, reaching for his glass again. "Good thing I was too drunk to care about those offers back then. Fortunately, my faction is already wealthy enough that we don't need the hassle of managing an entire country on top of everything else."
"Who did you summon?" Archer decided to stop circling the matter and went straight to the point. His tone was measured, but his eyes were intent, watching Azazel for the slightest flicker of a lie.
"I didn't," Azazel answered without hesitation, leaning back slightly in his chair.
Archer froze for a fraction of a second. His gaze narrowed even further.
"You can glare at me all you want," Azazel said with a small, almost exasperated smile. "But I'm telling you the truth. I didn't summon anyone. I figured getting on your good side, and of that hot girlfriend of yours, was worth making this small sacrifice."
The words hung between them, steady and unembellished. Archer did not immediately reply, but his expression shifted just enough to show he was weighing them carefully.
"I don't trust you. Not summoning a Servant does not really count as a small sacrifice."
"Quite the mistrustful one you are."
The Servant of Bow did not back down nor deny those words, having seen far too much in many of his missions — both when he was alive and dead — ever to say otherwise.
"I would prefer to call it realistic. I have studied enough of this world's history to know that your faction suffered the heaviest losses during the last great war between the three factions. Much like the Angels, your numbers are dwindling, while the Devils continue to grow stronger thanks to their reincarnation system via the Evil Pieces."
The blonde man tapped his fingers on the armrest and then pointed at Archer with a crooked smirk. "That is it, the Evil Piece System. That's what I believe weighs more than the knowledge of a ritual to bring back long-dead heroes as temporary familiars."
It did not take long for Archer to piece together what the Fallen Angel was hinting at. Rather than dismiss the thought outright, the more he considered it, the more the argument made sense.
"And besides," the black leather-clad Governor General replied, "While I will admit that a Servant has made its way into my camp indirectly, I will not be summoning another one, nor will anyone under my command. Should they attempt it, they will soon find themselves frozen in the deepest layers of Tartarus itself. One Servant is already more than enough of a burden, particularly with how demanding she is."
Archer gave a low chuckle. "That I do trust you on. You at least keep to your word. But tell me, are you not going to say something about that, or will you keep eavesdropping on us all day?" His gaze slid past Azazel, toward the empty air behind him.
A moment later, the air shifted and rippled as a new figure emerged. The newcomer was draped in long, flowing robes marked by fine chains linking several folds of fabric together, lending her the appearance of a monarch wrapped in her own ceremonial attire. Long, silky dark hair spilled down her back, and her pointed ears confirmed her inhuman origin.
Queen Semiramis of Assyria…
"It has been a while, Archer," she said, her tone smooth, yet carrying the weight of familiarity.
"Not long enough, I fear, Assassin," he replied, eyes narrowing at the sight of the woman he once fought. She had been under the command of the priest who served Kokabiel, and prior to his fight with her, he had battled a small army of her familiars alongside Rider. Even after Saber's Noble Phantasm had torn through the battlefield with sheer destructive might, Archer had doubted her demise. Assassin had proven herself far too capable, too resourceful, to fall so easily. The appearance of the dove earlier had already stirred his suspicion, and now, seeing her here, finally confirmed it in full.
"Strange," the yellow-eyed woman murmured, tilting her head. "I had thought my Presence Concealment would be enough to mask me even from your senses."
"No man in his right mind, no matter how strongly he might wish for peace between Devils and Fallen Angels, would walk into a conversation with another Servant — one who would have killed his brother had Saber not done so first — without some measure of protection or a contingency plan should things go wrong."
"Ah, come now," Azazel interjected with a grin, "you make me sound worse than I am. I did not bring her along only as protection, you know. There are other reasons."
Archer said nothing. Silence was his answer, and Azazel, recognizing it, let the matter drop for now.
"I don't see any Command Seals on your hand," Archer observed.
Azazel barked out a laugh. "You seriously think I would risk my life tethering myself to this woman? She certainly would be a pretty sight to wake up to, but I trust her about as much as I trust Penemue with my personal collection of alcohol. And truth be told, she was not too keen on the idea of having me as her Master anyway. According to her, I may have reserves a thousand times greater than her previous Master, if not more, but that alone did not matter much to her."
The reasoning held. Assassin's former Master had been only a human, and not a particularly skilled one at that. A researcher obsessively dabbling in holy swords, little more than an average magus at best in terms of his actual ability. Compared to a Fallen Seraph like Azazel, the difference in raw magical reserves was literally as large as the gap between Heaven and Earth. Yet greater reserves did not directly translate to increased strength. A Servant with such a Master would not suddenly become ten or a hundred times stronger. What it meant was a longer period of sustained combat, more freedom to call upon abilities, and more opportunities to unleash a Noble Phantasm without the risk of running dry.
For a Servant who carried the duality of both Caster and Assassin, losing a human Master with modest reserves had not hindered her too greatly. She had gained stability and longevity instead.
As these thoughts lingered, a chain materialised in Assassin's hand, its metallic links shimmering faintly before trailing downward. The chain snaked into the forest in the distance, pulling tight as she tugged with a controlled motion.
"You should not keep our guest waiting, Master," Assassin said calmly. Her voice was steady, almost formal, even as she pulled on the chain. "It is unbecoming of you."
The chain jerked, and a faint cry escaped from deep within the woods. Moments later, a figure stumbled forward, dragged by Assassin's pull on a metal collar fastened around their neck. Archer's eyes narrowed in surprise at the sight of someone he had not seen in some time. Recognition came slowly, for the face was familiar, though the name nearly slipped from memory.
"That is your Master?" he asked, his tone edged with disbelief. Her choice of companion left him visibly perplexed. From his recollection, this woman had been among Raynare's subordinates.
"No need for that expression," Azazel said with a smirk, noting Archer's look. "Kalawarna made mistakes in the past, yes, but mistakes can be corrected and atoned for. She was also following orders, even if they came from people she should not have trusted. In any event, I saw to it that she received punishment fitting her actions. She has long since repented for her errors. You didn't say anything when she worked as a secretary early on, meaning she took her job seriously at least."
The explanation meant little to Archer. In his mind, the day Assassin had struck, he had entrusted this very woman with the safety of two of his students, tasking her to lead them away from danger. How the events of that night had led to her becoming Assassin's Master was a mystery. One that, despite Azazel's smug words, he felt compelled to find out later.
Azazel, meanwhile, continued to speak. "Listen, I am not here to rekindle the animosity between you two and start another battle. Rather, Kalawarna will be continuing her duties as a secretary, and Assassin here will also be around. You can keep an eye on her if you so wish, whatever works for you."
If Kalawarna was her Master, then that meant Valper was indeed dead. Yuuto had not fully accepted his passing without actually seeing the corpse, but with what little remained of the mountain back then, finding anything had been next to impossible. Assassin having a new Master could be used as proof enough for that man's passing, and he had a feeling she might even enjoy retelling the story of his death if asked.
"One last thing. You could say this is mainly why I called you here." Azazel got up, cracking his back and letting out a tired groan. "I know words mean little, as peace is not so easily achievable without all parties gathered around a table to officially declare a truce between our factions. Then, from there, we can possibly form alliances and so on, but for that, we need a peace summit. And it just so happens that one is being scheduled in Romania next week, which you and your Master, along with that Sitri girl, are invited to attend."
"Romania?" Truth be told, Archer had expected the location to be Kuoh Academy itself, or a neutral ground in the Underworld. But upon hearing the location, his mind quickly gathered the pieces together until it formed a bigger picture.
"Are the vampires and Lancer also going to be part of the summit?"
"Anyone who is not trying to push us into a bloody war is considered our ally. That guy, Vlad, turns out to be a pretty chill person. Very different from the Vlad I knew, and he even approached the Devils and Fallen Angels with the idea before the rest of us had even started to consider it.. Oh, of course, the Angels will also be part of it. I was actually supposed to show up here with Michael. Where the hell did that guy—"
Whatever he was about to say came to a sudden halt when all three of them turned to see a bright holy light shine from a particular church down below. It shone with a soothing light encompassing everything.
Archer turned to Azazel, waiting for answers.
The man showed an ugly expression, "Hey, don't blame me for this! I sure as hell didn't tell him to put up a damn light show upon his arrival. The guy probably just wants to advertise the local church run by those two exorcists. I also sent a letter inviting them here as well, but they didn't arrive."
At the mention of those two, Archer's eyes twitched upon remembering that, earlier that morning, neither of them was even capable of meeting his gaze. Irina actually fainted twice while continuously muttering, 'how sinful' while her face was redder than a tomato. Xenovia, on the other hand, kept asking him weird questions about whether or not a Servant could have a kid despite them technically being dead. And things had not improved this morning either.
Clearly, those two had heard what happened that night between Rias and himself.
He never did bother giving Xenovia an answer, either, and just left the house with Rias in tow whenever she brought it up.
'What do you think we should do, Master?' he asked, knowing a certain redhead had been listening keenly to the conversation from the beginning while also observing everything through his eyes.
'Um… It's not a bad idea in principle. A peace summit followed by an official treaty is honestly what our factions need at the moment, but I don't know about the location. We know next to nothing about Lancer, but I will trust your judgement. Also, uh… that was actually another Seraph who went to the church. Because Michael is here talking to Sona as we speak.'
Eh? He was? But then who…
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The next 5 chapters of Snafu, and my other Fate fics (Fate Coiling Sword with 3 chapters, A Fake Familiar Reborn with 3 chapters, Steel Eyed Faker soon to be 3 chapters, Hound having 3 and To love a sword having 4 chapters) are already available on my P@treon. With 4 more Broly chapters at /NimtheWriter. Also, I post commissioned arts on each story, already posted a few on an Archer's Promise, Broly and Snafu.