A Ghost in a Strange Land - God of War/Fate Grand Order crossover (2024)

The Evening Bell said:

Having been here since the start, I can say you've greatly improved since the times of unending paragraphs. I'm happy you've progressed so, and hope that you can keep writing at a pace you find preferable.

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Honestly, it's feedback like that that has been the greatest help in helping me refine my writing. Bless each and every one of you for that.

Here, have a chapter.

It's a thicc one.

A GHOST IN A STRANGE LAND

CHAPTER 32

Pacifying the officers of the United Roman Empire took little time, in the end. Once given an order, the Homunculus soldiers were quick to act on it. In an hour's time, the greater whole of the United Roman Empire's officers were being marched through the gates of Mediolanum, destined for the cells beneath the barracks.

"They were caught so flat footed that only a handful thought to try to fight their way free," laughed Iskandar, tearing into his food despite one of his arms being in both a sling and a cast. Fujimaru had done what she could for him, but his hand was still a ruin after a single application of her uniform's healing spell. It would need time, a steady supply of mana, and more treatments before it would be repaired. "Those that did, well, only one or two survived, and they may not survive the night. Very single-minded, those Homunculi."

"But they have delivered to us an abundance of riches," said Nero, who was almost bursting with energy. "In addition to whatever we can learn from the captives, our forces have swollen to near-bursting. The only problem is that we now have too few officers for such a massive army." She glanced to her Legate, who nodded. "Valerius and myself will be up late into the nights promoting from within our forces to fill the gaps. I assume you wish to remain in overall command of the Homunculi Legions, King of Conquerors?"

"It would simplify things greatly," said the El-Melloi, as his King was in the midst of taking a deep draught from his goblet. "Overall field command was granted to three Servants. Caesar, who you have removed from play, my King, and one other."

"Leonidas," rumbled Kratos.

"Yes," El-Melloi frowned. "Who was called back to the United Roman Capital unexpectedly - and what spies and listening spells I had in the capital could not discover why. Those spies and spells, I might add, have been wiped out in the half-day since my Contract was broken, so Lev Lainur wasted no time once he became aware of our betrayal."

"So then, what happens if we run into an army led by King Leonidas?" asked Da Vinci. "Will he be able to order our soldiers around, and vice versa for Iskandar there?"

The Clock Tower Lord drummed his fingers on the wood of the table. "I expect the United Roman Empire is frantically updating their armies to disregard any orders from my King, so do not expect that we will be able to incite them to turn on their leaders as we did this morning. As to our soldiers…" His face scrunched up, and he thought for a long few minutes. "I simply do not have enough data to know what would happen should they get conflicting orders from two leaders who match in rank. It is possible it happened with the southern army, as Caesar and Leonidas were initially meant to command together, but I did not observe it happening with my own two eyes."

"And, it wouldn't shock me if Lev didn't implant some additional commands in all of them to make it so he could assume direct control over them in the event one or more of you guys decided you didn't like the feeling of his boot on your necks," muttered Fujimaru.

"That is true," said Chiron. "Ruling by fear is a risky endeavor. From what you have told me about Lev, I doubt he would feel that even holding the lives of Caesar's wife and son over his head would be enough. This is a man who ascended to the heights of the Roman Empire through treachery and betrayal. He was cowed for now, but Lev having a contingency plan in case Caesar found his mettle again would not shock me."

"And the same would also go towards the Servant they are using as the figurehead for the United Roman Empire," said El-Melloi, with a glance to Nero. Both he and Iskandar had been informed on the precarious nature of speaking the name of Romulus aloud. They had both, unsurprisingly, agreed with the Chaldeans in that hiding the information was a fool's errand, but they had agreed to hold their peace. Neither was happy about it, though. "I would expect he would be able to turn our soldiers against us with a mere vocal command."

"That will make an invasion difficult, if not impossible," said Valerius. "For while we now know where our enemy's capital lies, we cannot approach, or risk losing the greater whole of our forces."

"Then we must bolster our loyal forces," said Nero, finger running across the map that had been spread out on the table. "Cities that merely surrendered may be welcomed back into the fold, and their forces added to ours. Would that Lugdunum have held out, a three whole Legions were huddled behind its walls, but it fell weeks ago."

Iskandar and his retainer shared a look. Finally, Iskandar spoke, a look of confusion on his face. "But, Lugdunum still stands. Where did you hear that it had fallen?"

Nero looked as if she had been punched in the gut. "Caes…..," she swore. "Curse me for a fool. He lied. I knew his reputation, and yet I still trusted his words. My mother must be rolling in her unlamented grave at her daughter's foolishness."

Her finger jabbed at the map, right above the drawing of a city that bore the label of 'Lugdunum'. "Beyond the Legions, there were two mighty warriors there - knowing now what I do of Servants, they could only have been such….especially given that both are supposed to be dead. And one recently at that."

She milked the moment for all it was worth, but it was spoiled by a cranky voice. "Just give us the names already. This ain't some damn play, we don't need dramatic pauses and sh*t." Avenger was poking at her arm, which, since the battle, was moving sluggishly, and letting off the occasional spark.

(It was also why there was an empty seat to both sides of her. Or at least part of the reason.)

Nero puffed her cheeks out in a pout. "You may be an exotic beauty, Avenger, but you have NO sense of the theater! Fine. Their names were Spartacus….and Boudica."

You could hear a pin drop. "Spartacus?" said Fujimaru. "THE Spartacus - gladiator who led a revolt AGAINST Rome? I can't think of someone LESS likely to be helping you!"

"Though if it was, it'd be the Queen of the Iceni,' said Cu, picking at his teeth with a toothpick. "And it would be extra raw for her, since her revolt is recent history at this point in time, too. She'd be aiding the very person who tore her life down around her."

At the Caster's words, Nero deflated. When she spoke, her voice was soft, and lacked its usual vigor. "What happened to Boudica was…..regrettable, to say the least. Her husband's will should not have been ignored like it was. But by the time word reached back to Rome itself, she and the tribes of Britannia were already in full revolt." Her hands clenched at the edge of the table until her knuckles were white. "I had little choice by then. Her uprising had to be suppressed, and quickly, lest the sparks it was casting catch fire elsewhere in my empire."

Cu, for once, wasn't smiling - there wasn't even a hint of mirth in his face. "And what happened to her daughters, and her?"

Nero couldn't meet his eyes. "I could say that my men went too far, that once they captured the woman who had killed so many of their friends, had so destabilized our holdings in Britannia, they decided to get revenge, but that would be unworthy of me." She stood up straighter, and looked right at Cu Chulainn. "I am the Emperor of Rome, and the responsibility lies with me, whether I gave the order or not. What happened to her was horrible, and I will bear the weight of those sins until I stand before Pluto himself and am forced to give an accounting of my life. And if I am sentenced to Tartarus for it, then so be it."

Cu held her gaze for the space of a breath, then nodded. "Fair enough, then. You're not trying to pass the buck, I can respect that." He leaned back, until he wasn't visible in the communicator window anymore. "Carry on with your meeting."

Nero took a deep breath, as she tried to regain her train of thought. "To answer the question before we were…..diverted on a tangent, both of them fought as hard as any other in the battles against the United Roman Empire. Our forces were separated after a loss at the Rhodanus, but their orders were to fall back to Lugdunum, while we would retreat closer to Rome itself, in the hopes we could either divide their forces, or that they would be able to muster support from Gaul and Britannia, should they find the chance. Obviously, that did not work, as even with a divided force, my Legions suffered defeat after defeat until we managed to halt them at Florentia."

Valeruis took over. "The last report we received was that they were penned in at Lugdunum, but that was months ago. To have held out all that time would be a remarkable achievement." He turned his gaze onto the King and his retainer. "Why were the two of you not directed to take the city?"

"Truthfully, I don't know," said El-Melloi. "Caesar and Leonidas had strict instructions to follow Nero and finish her, those I can understand, as she was the only thing holding Rome together in those days. And it isn't like attempts weren't made to take the city. At least three were, with siege weapons and the full might of the Legions surrounding it. But all three failed."

"Something always bothered me about those attacks, as well," said Iskandar, having finished his meal. He picked up a bone and tossed it to Fou, who sprang on it with a happy cry. "They felt more like probes than true attacks. For all that they threw everything they had at the walls, they called a halt much quicker than I would have ever done. And after the last attack, they just settled in and seemed to be content keeping them contained there."

Chiron trailed his eyes along the map. "Lugdunum is far enough removed from things that they could have simply been looking to keep supply lines open. If Boudica's forces were the only ones of any significance in the area, all they would need to do is remove their ability to affect the war, which they did."

"And that would make sense, were this a normal war, Archer," Iskandar was only barely containing his glee - he had been made aware of who Fujimaru's teacher was shortly after the battle, and he had been beside himself with what Fujimaru had termed 'fanboying'. "But the United Roman Empire has no cause to worry about things like casualties. While I was under that Command Seal, had I been ordered to, I could have cracked that city wide open in a day, two at the most." His eyes narrowed. "The loss of life on both sides would have been horrific, but the city WOULD have been ours. And the Servants you mentioned would have been difficult fights, but not beyond my retainer and myself."

He shrugged. "But instead, we were ordered to secure Mediolanum, though it had a fraction of the forces deployed there, and walls that were lesser in comparison. Perhaps they expected that I would quickly raze Mediolanum and then they could redeploy me to Lugdunum, but that is not what happened. And despite my insistence at trying to spare Mediolanum from a sack, countermanding orders never arrived."

"I mean, you did say it looked like Caesar was a couple days away from total victory," said Fujimaru. "Maybe they just made a mistake. It was about that time that they sent Caligula into Roman territory to try to assassinate Emperor Nero. Seems to me they had at least two other schemes going at that time. Maybe your army just got lost in the shuffle with two other higher priority things happening at the same time."

Iskandar nodded. "Maybe, fiery little mage. Lev Lainur is human in the end, after all. As prone to making mistakes as any of us."

There was a long silence, one that was broken by Mash. "So…..what is next, then?" The girl flushed as all eyes turned to her. "I mean…..it sounds like Lugdunum is where Emperor Nero wants to go."

"It does seem to be your best move, from a tactical standpoint," said Cu. "Two more Servants would be a hell of a windfall, especially given how few Servants the United Roman Empire still has left." He chuckled. "Would be nice to have the numbers advantage on them for once, at least in that regard."

Nero's finger was tapping over Lugdunum again. "Two days. That is how long we would need to reorganize our officer corps. Such a monumental shuffling about of personnel will take time - and it will require a forfeiture of some of our sleep to do so.."

Valerius groaned, but nodded. "As my Emperor wills it."

Nero pushed herself up from the table. "We should begin at once. Valerius, gather your staff - we shall need their opinions on the most promising of your juniors, those who are ready for their first taste of command. And I shall need to know whom you can spare to fill the gaps in our new army. And furthermore…" Nero's voice trailed off as they left the room and marched down the hall.

Fujimaru watched them go. "Well, I guess they've got that handled then. Anything else we need to handle?"

Avenger sighed. "I'm probably going to have to tag out. My arm's going to need some TLC from the crazy lady." The arm in question gave a particularly piteous whine as she attempted to move it. "My own damn fault, to be fair. She told me it probably wasn't ready for a full on Noble Phantasm channeling like that, but I don't think she expected me to be facing down a damn Reality Marble, either." She shrugged. "Eh, worth it."

"Words to live by, Avenger," said Fujimaru, who held her fist out to the ashen-haired woman for a bump, which she received.

Cu's face shot back into the communicator's window. "Wait, does that mean…?"

Kratos grunted. "Yes, with Rider still healing, and Avenger unable to fight, you are the only choice."

Cu barked out a happy peal of laughter. "Great! I'll be right there!"

The man's face vanished from the screen, and Da Vinci sighed. "He just vaulted right over the guardrails, and now I swear he's vibrating in place next to the coffins. The Lord save me from fight-happy Irishmen." She looked up at Kratos, who nodded. "Beginning transfer."

"Kick some ass for me, Grumps," said Avenger, as she faded out, and was replaced with the Child of Light.

Cu took a deep breath, then grinned. "Good to be back." He looked over to the two Servants who were watching him across the table. "Cu Chulainn, Caster-Class Servant - unfortunately. Good to meetcha face to face."

"I know you, Child of Light. Or know of you," Lord El-Melloi shrugged. "I said I taught the Tohsaka Heir for a time. In my timeline's version of the Fifth War, you were the Lancer Servant in it."

"Really?" asked Cu. At the man's nod, he groaned. "Man, I can't win for losing. That version of me probably had the time of his life, while I'm stuck here in the End of Days as a stupid Caster."

"Actually…" began El-Melloi. "As I was given to understand, you were stolen from your proper Master from what she described as a 'fake Priest' - the moderator of the War, as it turns out, who was running his own scheme the entire time. He'd apparently somehow managed to keep the Archer from the Fourth War around, and used you as a stalking horse to gather information on the other Masters and Servants, while lurking in the shadows."

Cu blinked, once, very slowly. "Wait, REALLY? That's pretty much exactly what happened to me - well, minus the being a Lancer." His expression grew thunderous. "The guy who stole me, his name wasn't Kirei, was it?"

El-Melloi nodded. "It was."

"That…..is a very odd bit of symmetry," said Romani. "Obviously, since there was only one Holy Grail War in our timeline, Kirei couldn't have had a Servant from the previous war around, but still. Mind, that Singularity differs in a few details as is, as Lord Animusphere won the sole War with a Caster-class Servant, so you being the Caster Servant of your war is already one divergence." His fingers clacked over the keys, and his eyes flicked to the side for a moment. "And what records we have do show that a Kirei Kotomine of the Church died around 2004 - that's the same year as the Fuyuki Singularity."

Cu swore. "Bastard! If that Singularity was still around, I'd ask you to take me back there, Kratos, so I could piss on his ashes, get some revenge for that other me."

"Revenge, and in such a petty manner would be a waste of both our time and resources," rumbled Kratos.

"But it would feel, so, SOOOO good," whined Cu, but good naturedly. "Thankfully, Kratos, you'll never have the misfortune of meeting that guy, but I bet you a good bottle of proper Celtic ale against the best stuff from your world that ten, no, FIVE minutes around him and you'd want to punch his teeth down his throat."

"I would advise against taking that bet," muttered El-Melloi. "From what little the Tohsaka Heir said of the man - as he was apparently her legal guardian for a number of years - he was, to use her own words, 'the most irritating jackass she'd ever met, and I knew Shinji Matou.' Whomever that might have been."

"Getting us back on track," said Da Vinci. "Is there anything else we need to address?"

"If I am to be recovered in time to be of any use in the campaign, I will require a Master," said Iskandar. His eyes were locked on Kratos. "And there is only one I will accept."

He waved his working hand, seeing Fujimaru wince, though she attempted to hide it. "Take it as no slight against yourself, girl. You have potential - your ploy to stall me until Kratos could arrive was perfectly calculated to pique my interest. Were things different, I would contract with you in an instant." He grinned widely. "But next to an actual Spartan who bested me in combat, well, can you blame me? My love of Greek culture is no secret - I carry my childhood copy of the Iliad to this day."

Kratos sighed internally. As with Medea, he understood the necessity of it, but it still made his skin crawl. They had just freed the man's from another's control, and here he was, immediately willing to swear himself to another. Servants - some part of him wondered if something in them wasn't changed by the Throne itself to be willing to accept bondage. "Am I to carry your advisor as well?"

"No," said Iskandar - this apparently coming as a surprise to the El-Melloi, as his face twisted in what looked like disappointment - though Kratos wasn't certain. The man was not the most emotive (and Kratos was aware of the irony of him, of all people, thinking this), and Kratos was hardly an expert at reading the moods of others.

Iskandar turned to look at his retainer. "Think, boy, it's simple tactics. While Kratos is mighty, it is best we do not tie all our Servants to him, just in case. And you are better suited back, away from the fighting - exactly where the girl will be. She could benefit greatly from your guidance."

The Clock Tower Lord frowned, but nodded his head. "True. Even gods can die, as Ragnarök proved. And if I am having to throw a punch, things have gone horribly wrong - which will be the case if I am by your side, my King." He turned to Fujimaru. "Is that acceptable to you?"

Fujimaru was trembling in her chair. "But, but, but…..you're a Clock Tower LORD! I'm….nobody. I'm LESS than nobody! I can't…"

El-Melloi sighed, though he almost sounded happy. "While I appreciate the respect my position is due - especially with how some of my students behave, you are the Master, I am the Servant. My acceptance of a contract with you means that I acknowledge that I will follow your orders." The man almost looked bemused. "You will command much greater than I, I feel, on this journey you are on."

"Yeah, but," Fujimaru was waving her hands about indistinctly. "Kings and Emperors and even gods are these abstract things that I never gave much thought about growing up. Clock Tower Lords are…." her mouth moved for a second, as she tried to formulate the words. "You're like the kaiju of the Moonlit World. The stories BOTH my parents told me of some of you nearly turned my hair white!"

El-Melloi looked bemused. "I see. Another problem student." He held out his hand. "If I am a kaiju, my would-be Master, then I am certainly the runt of the litter. Someday, I may tell you of how I came to warm the seat I hold."

Fujimaru swallowed heavily, but took the man's hand. Red light flashed around them, signifying the formation of the Contract.

All eyes (and one particularly eager pair) then turned to Kratos who, after a moment's hesitation, extended his hand. "You are no slave, and never will be. We fight as equals in this campaign."

Iskandar's smile was so bright the man was almost glowing. "Look at him, boy! So different from the Golden King! Oh, this is going to be enjoyable!" The King seized Kratos' wrist, and he felt the Contract form.

Loud. The King of Conqueror's string in his mind was firstly and foremost loud. Vibrant. ALIVE - in a way that almost laughed in the face of the fact that he was, in essence, a ghost. And it wasn't alone. It felt like there were tiny threads, so thin that the slightest gust of wind would snap them, all attached to Iskandar's thread, stubbornly holding onto him, something they felt like they had been doing for years untold.

Iskandar took a deep breath, his eyes closed. "Yes, goodness. I can feel my body already beginning to patch itself - this will do." Laughing, he clapped Kratos across the back. "I should be fighting fit much quicker!"

Kratos' grunt was drowned out by Romani's voice. "Then, if that's all the immediate business, it sounds like you will have a day or two of rest - something that will be welcome, I imagine."

"Particularly after the beating the two of you gave each other," commented Da Vinci. "With some downtime, I think SOME of us here will take this time to catch up on their sleep."

Her baleful gaze fell on Romani, who tried to stand up to it.

He failed. "Yes, Assistant Director. I'll call Tanya to spell me - and Medusa. She has been making noise about wanting to contribute a bit more while she's stuck here. A hopefully quiet period should at least let her learn the ropes."

"And I'll see how badly Avenger has broken my beautiful creation. Ciao!" said Da Vinci, with a wave, as the communicator winked out.

Fujimaru Ritsuka was limping a bit as she lurched back to her room. With downtime, and Cu Chulainn available, her Sensei had decided to resume her dodge training in the afternoon. She had been doing well until she'd realized her newest Servant had come to watch, then she'd tried to move in two directions at once and had tweaked something. Which led to her eating, in order, one of Chiron's tennis balls, two of Cu's loud bubbles, and then, finally dirt.

(Way to impress, girl. Lord of the Clock Tower and he sees you falling over yourself like that.)

She'd tried to soldier on after that, but Sensei had shut that down hard, not about to let her possibly compromise her ability to move in the middle of a campaign. Thankfully, her hamstring was only pulled a little (Fujjimaru was possibly going to be feeling his strong hands on her thighs for the foreseeable future - she was a HEALTHY GIRL, alright!), but he'd put on his most stern face when he told her to take it easy for the next two days.

At least she likely wasn't going to be marching along with the regular army. At this point, she was pretty much on permanent chariot-buddy duty with Nero. She'd even gotten a few lessons on steering the thing after she'd had to do an emergency turn at the reins during the whole mess with Caligula. By the time this Singularity was over, she might have a future career in Roman reenactments.

Cu had wandered off, stating a desire to explore the city (read: find a tavern and tie one one, probably with some gambling on the side), so she was leaning on her Sensei's shoulder as she limped back to her room.

And the Clock Tower Lord was trailing behind them.

His voice, when he finally spoke, made her jump just a little bit. "Do you do this every day?" He sounded curious.

"Not every day," said Chiron. "I've only been teaching her a short while, but dodging has been one of our focuses. As a Master surrounded by a war of Servants, it seemed prudent that she learn how to avoid damage, as Masters are in short supply for us."

"True," mused Lord El-Melloi II. "Losing a Master in this war is much more consequential than in a standard Grail War. And while it would not have made much difference in the one I took part in, it is knowledge I could have done with in my later years." His eye twitched, once, and the part of her brain where he had taken up residence seemed to radiate feelings of frustration to the point she wondered if a person could get second-hand ulcers.

Thankfully, it wasn't far to her room, and then she was reclining on her bed, a half-empty bottle of water already drained (still no wine - she was planning how she was going to get back at Avenger for this. Shortsheeting her bed sounded like a good start.), and her Sensei once more probing her hamstring (I'm flushed from the workout, NOTHING ELSE - UNDERSTAND) to reassure himself that whatever damage she'd done to herself was light.

"I'm not familiar with any Fujimarus in my timeline," said the Lord, who had taken a cigar out, but was twirling it between his fingers, unlit, in deference to Fujimaru (she assumed). "Not that that says much, given the disdain the Clock Tower has for Japan. What can you tell me, my Master, of your family, and more importantly, your capabilities?"

Fujimaru let her head loll to the side so she could look at the man ('Always look at your superiors in the Moonlit World, girl. Particularly when they ask you a question!,' sounded her mother's voice in her head. 'And superiors, so you understand, includes your sister!') "We're nothing special, pretty small time, really. Kinda like me. I already told Sensei this, but I'm not much of a Mage. Reinforcement and Gandr is about all I've been able to do consistently. And I'm pants at the family specialty."

"Which is?" he asked.

"Spiritualism. If you just think of the Fujimaru's as mediums, you're not far off," she shrugged, hiding a wince as Chiron's fingers found where her muscle was the most sore. "Dunno if I got more of my dad's stuff than my mom's - my dad's American-born Japanese, married into the family - but I can't really see ghosts or other things unless I concentrate hard. And Sensei's flat out forbidden me from doing that with how the world is right now."

"Wise," muttered Lord El-Melloi II. "I've had more than my fair share of dealings with ghosts, and they're dangerous at the best of times. I can only imagine how bad things are with all of humanity crowding the stations of the various afterlifes."

He tapped his cigar on the surface of the table. "It's interesting though. My assistant was the gravekeeper of a small town in the English countryside for years. Through a variety of circ*mstances, she was very, VERY sensitive to ghosts, which came in handy given how often I found cases involving them in some fashion. Her situation was…..unique, but there might be one or two things that I can dredge up that might help, should it become necessary to begin working with your family speciality."

Chiron set her leg back down on the bed. "That would be appreciated. While I consider myself to have a broad base of knowledge to draw from as a teacher, that is one area on which I find myself to be a bit thin on."

The Lord actually cracked a smile - a narrow one, but a smile nonetheless. "I can't promise what little scraps I know will be of any benefit, but I'll see what I can remember."

Nero's estimate was correct. It took them two days, and most of the nights, to find an acceptable number of officer-quality candidates from the Roman Legions, and either shuffle them over to the Homunculi Legions, or promote them to the vacancies left in their respective armies.

Iskandar was healed enough to be pestering Kratos and Cu both for spars by afternoon of the first day, something Cu at least quickly agreed to. Though they took their mock battles out to the space of cleared land where Servant and god had fought the previous day, as even the ring set aside in Mediolanum's barracks wasn't large enough to accommodate them, in physical space or the size of their personalities. Kratos had been cajoled along to keep the fight from spiraling beyond the confines of a friendly bout (though most suspected the two men of wanting him there in the hopes of getting to take a turn fighting him), and while he was his gruff as ever upon their return to the city that evening, there was a spring in his step (if you squinted really hard). So it seemed he had enjoyed his time scrapping with his two Servants.

The second day was a day of bustling organization. Fujimaru, even if she hadn't been ordered to take it easy, would have stayed in her room and kept her head down, as there was a steady stream of runners coming to and from where the Emperor was sequestered with her officers, reorganizing two disparate Legions into a single force, piece by piece. Rooms in the palace were being fought over as newly minted officers met those who would be commanding under them, and attempted to hash out their expectations and duties.

Flatly, it was a mess. Fujimaru kept her head down, and imagined this was akin to the chaos in Chaldea after the first Singularity in Fuyuki, as Da Vinci and Romani had desperately tried to plug holes in an organization that was suddenly missing a metric ton of personnel.

The reorganized and reinforced Roman Legions marched on the third day.

Nero slept standing up (or leaning on Fujimaru, more correctly) for most of that day's march, the Praetorian Guard rebuffing all those who wanted a word with the Emperor, gently, but firmly, while Fujimaru consigned herself to being a body pillow of sorts.

She might have griped a bit, but she didn't honestly mind. The bags under Nero's eyes had bags - she had really pushed herself to get them moving as fast as possible.

"Indeed, to strike when the iron is hot is the essence of battle," said Iskandar, his chariot rattling alongside Nero's. "We have dealt a great blow to the United Roman Empire in adding their forces to our own, but even the Legions they let me command were but a portion of their numbers. If they empty the capital, and manage to recall all the forces they had in the field and forge them into a single unit, they would outnumber us - less so than they would have two days ago, but numerical superiority would still be theirs."

"Which is why we are rushing to Lugdunum as quickly as possible," said Lord El-Melloi II, from where he was standing by his King's side. "For we hold the Servant advantage, and Servants can single-handedly rout entire armies. And we have the chance to add two more to our roster, if Lugdunum still stands."

Kratos, who has been quiet most of the day in his fashion, speaks for the first time in hours. "The remaining Servants are two?"

"Three, actually," says the Lord. "Leonidas and their, ahem, figurehead, we know. But there were missives from Lev Lainur himself speaking of a third who he was using for information gathering purposes, but he never directly named him. From what I could gather - and there wasn't much to go on, it seemed like Lev was keeping this Servant heavily under wraps. Whether as a trump card, or simply because he wanted his spy's movements shrouded in as much fog as possible, I don't know. Our paths certainly never crossed."

"Unless he had Presence Concealment like me!" chirped Jing Ke, from her perch on Lu Bu's shoulder.

"True. We cannot discount his class being Assassin." The man's eyes were distant, no longer looking at the fields before them. "They are perfect for the role of a scout or information gatherer. It is how Kirei used his Assassin in the War I took part in."

Cu's muttered aspersions on Kirei's lineage, parents or lack thereof, and sexual practices (goats may or may not have been involved) were drowned out by Iskandar's laugh. "Though they found themselves with nowhere to run when I trapped them in my Reality Marble! They were cut down in less time than it took me to unravel the mystery of the Gordian Knot."

The Caster smiled, a smile laced with memory. "True. Of those you dragged into your inner world that day, my King, none were as surprised as them. And I was reacting much as my Master did a few days ago, when I first laid eyes upon a Reality Marble."

"They had no place to hide," rumbled Kratos.

"Exactly!" If anything, Iskandar laughed harder.

It was a week of marching from Mediolanum to Lugdunum. And in all that time, they saw no sign of the United Roman Empire.

"Where ARE they?" Nero slammed her goblet down on the table that had been set up in her tent, wine sloshing over the lip of the vessel. "Small, large - all the settlements and colonies we have passed have been unguarded, with not even a token force left to keep order."

"And we see no sign of them at the choke points, either," said Chiron, from where he was perusing the map.

"Indeed," commented Iskandar. "The path to Lugdunum is littered with areas where they could ambush us - or merely force us into an unfavorable position. For one, we will be forced to cross the Rhodanus sooner or later, and that would be a prime opportunity for them to bleed us heavily."

"And yet, the scouts have yet to pick up even a trace sign that their Legions are nearby," muttered Lord El-Melloi II.

"This feels like what you mentioned a few days ago," said Fujimaru. "Them emptying the capital and recalling all the forces in the field to make a giant army. But…."

Chiron, Iskandar, and Lord El-Melloi II all nodded as one. Chiron was the one to speak, however. "Yes, my Master. If they truly are consolidating their forces, the question is, where?"

"It cannot be Lugdunum, if that city, and our forces within, still persist," said Valerius, scowling down at the map. "That forces them to deal with all the difficulties of besieging a city while also trying to hold off an advancing army. History - and proper military doctrine states that an arriving army of comparable size means a besieging army MUST withdraw, lest they risk being flanked and overrun."

"It is possible they seek to raze it before we arrive," rumbled Kratos.

"Were it another force huddled behind those walls, I could agree," said Nero. "But if Boudica and Spartacus still draw breath, what hope have they? The Queen of Victory and the Gladiator King were formidable in life, but as these Servants? I have seen what they can do, particularly with none to counter them, as we anticipate that is the state the United Roman Empire finds itself in."

"It is possible Leonidas has returned to the field," said Lord El-Melloi II, reaching into his suit for a cigar. "But depending on how much Lev Lainur knows about the status of myself and my King, that would be borderline foolish. If he is aware that we have not died, but changed sides - and Masters…"

Iskandar cut him off. "Forget foolish, boy, it would be military suicide! If he knows we have some means of breaking the Contract between a Master and Servant, and turning them to our side, then that is the kind of blunder that would have earned me a slap across the head from Aristotle." He shook his head. "No. While Lev may hate you Chaldeans, he never struck me as being blinded by that hate - even through the haze of the Command Seal he had me under, he seemed determined to grind you beneath his feet, and was taking every necessary step to do just that."

There was a silence as everyone digested the King's words, and mulled them over. At last, Fujimaru raised her hand, like she was still in school (and surrounding by the collection of tactical geniuses and stone badasses like she was, she kind of did feel that way). "You don't think…..could they have pulled all the way back to the capital?"

All eyes turned to the last Master of Humanity, then some eyes dropped to a recent addition to the map, a shaky collection of Roman-style building and a colosseum, inked in Avenger's questionable style that had been placed somewhat in the middle of what would have been present-day Spain.

The label upon it, written in another hand, said simply 'United Roman Capital'.

"It's a theory," said Lord El-Melloi II. "But why would they cede so much ground to us, when they still have numerical superiority?"

"Home ground advantage, perhaps," ventured Chiron.

"I don't see it," said Iskandar. "That is the move of an army that is outnumbered and reeling. While we have dealt two - no three major blows to the enemy, none of them have been decisive. Caesar's defeat could have been turned around had morale held and enough officers decided to rally, despite Archer there deliberately targeting any who made the attempt. And your victory over myself was not one where your army triumphed - I was brilliantly manipulated into a scenario that let you break me free of the Command Seal I was under. So while the United Roman Empire has seen setbacks, I do not feel they are reeling."

His finger tapped over the capital. "And drawing their Legions behind their walls negates their greatest advantage, the sheer hordes they can throw at us. Lu Bu alone as the tip of the spear on a siege tower could create enough space for a beachhead to be established. And Kratos could easily do the same, I feel - and Spartacus, if he yet lives."

"And that doesn't even take into account the Gordius Wheel," said Lord El-Melloi II.

"Exactly! While they are defending the walls, I could take to the skies and make their defenders' lives a living hell," he shook his head. "MAYBE they've stripped the surrounding countryside of anything foragable, have burnt the settlements to the ground, and fouled the wells, or plan to."

Nero's face twisted. "That is abominable."

Iskandar nodded. "It is ugly warfare, yes. But this is an enemy who wants you exterminated - the promises Caesar made to allow you to remain as an Emperor of a fraction of the Roman Empire were hollow ones, in the end, as that surrender would signal the death knell for Humanity itself in the past, present, and future. I'm not the most knowledgeable in such things, but I expect the next thing you would feel after bending the knee would be your body turning to ash."

Valerius ran a hand through his hair in frustration. "It feels as if we are trying to put together a puzzle, but are missing pieces." His fist struck the table, causing the pieces on the map that represented their armies to rattle. "I do not like any of this. Something is coming that we are not expecting."

"No disagreement there," said Fujimaru. "This whole thing stinks like there's a trap waiting, somewhere."

"Then we will just have to keep our eyes open," declared Nero, and that was that, because, at that point, they'd been going around in circles for the better part of two hours, and everyone was tired of the discussion.

Six and a half days after departing Mediolanum, the Speculatores returned mid-march to say that Lugdunum had been sighted, and, to all appearances, the walls still stood. They were damaged, but whole.

Nero wanted to march through the night to reach there, but calmer voices managed to prevail in the end. They made camp early that night, determined to start early the next day. By the best estimates of their Speculatores, they were maybe a half-day's march away. There continued to be no sign of the United Roman Empire, and most agreed that the area around Lugdunum would be a poor place for an ambush, if loyal Legions still remained within the city, but none wished to be the one who had pushed for hasty action that ended up costing them.

So they settled down for the night, and if the sentries were instructed to be extra watchful that evening, none complained.

"Got to say," said Cu Chulainn, as they drew into sight range of the city. "If you Romans are going to rip off the names of my people's gods for your cities, couldn't you make the city itself a little less ugly?"

The Caster wasn't wrong. Where Mediolanum had been a city of open spaces and white marble, Lugdunum was sprawling, but somehow squat, cramped, and somewhat ramshackle. Various portions of the city that they could see from the hill they were on almost seemed to clash with one another, as if many different hands had taken their turn at shaping the city to their liking.

Nero gave a derisive sniff. "You speak of the administrative center of Roman Gaul, Caster!" She took another look at the city, and deflated a bit. "But, you are not incorrect. Many of the Emperors that preceded me graced this city with their presence, and left their mark upon it. Augustus, Tiberius, even my uncle spent time there, either as a stop on a campaign, or for a longer excursion. I, myself, had been intending to visit….before the war began. It had never sat right with me that the Imperial Mint was moved there from Hispania by my ancestor Augustus. Rome itself should be responsible for issuing the coin of the realm, and not another city, even one as important as Lugdunum."

"The grounds around the city look clear - no sign of our enemies," said Chiron, his eyes squinting and narrow. "And unless our enemies have another Reality Marble to hide their forces in, as you did, King of Conquerors, I do not feel there is an ambush awaiting us."

"Leonidas - if he was ever here, should not have a Noble Phantasm like that," said Iskandar. "It is almost certainly defensive in nature, going by the feat that saw him inscribed on the Throne."

"Thermopylae," Kratos' eyes were distant.

Iskandar nodded. "Yes. You of all people would know of that, I expect." Iskandar had been slowly but steadily chipping away at Kratos' walls in the week hence. It had been inevitable - once he had learned that Kratos had been at Troy, he had practically begged the Spartan to tell him of his world's Achilles (something Chiron had been quietly curious about, as well). Thankfully, for as overbearing as the Servant could be, he was willing to accept Kratos' refusals to talk when the Spartan wasn't in the mood to indulge him (and the rest of them, as storytime with Kratos was always a treat, at least in Fujimaru's opinion). But they were getting along tolerably well, at least in her estimation.

A belief that was bolstered by having seen, a couple of nights ago, Kratos flipping through Iskandar's prized copy of the Iliad by the fire. If Iskandar had been willing to lend that out, it had to mean the two men had at least found some common ground with one another.

"Means we just have Mystery Servant X to worry about, whoever he is," said Fujimaru. "So, how are we doing this?"

Nero sniffed. "I am Nero Claudius Caesar Augustus Germanicus! Rome itself! I shall march up to the gates of the city and ask if my Legions still stand within." She looked over her shoulder at the rest of them. "With such stalwart protectors around me, what have I to fear?"

THE GATES OF LUGDUNUM​

The plan had the advantage of simplicity and directness, at least. And, try as he might, Kratos had not been able to see how it could be turned into a trap. If loyal soldiers still resided within the city, then the United Roman Empire would be playing right into their hands by attacking now. And if the city had been turned, they need simply pull back and encircle it. Taking it by siege would give the Legions practice at the more serious undertaking that would be cracking open the United Roman capital.

Still, an uneasy feeling seemed to hang over his head as they drew up to the gates. Nero's personal standard preceded them, so that there was no question who it was that had come calling to Lugdunum.

They stopped just outside of arrow range, and Nero drew herself up to her full (insignificant) height, and called out to the walls. "HAIL THE CITY! THIS IS YOUR EMPEROR, NERO CLAUDIUS CAESAR AUGUSTUS GERMANICUS, ASKING - DO LOYAL ROMANS STILL HOLD THIS CITY?"

At least the woman's voice was much larger than her stature.

There was no response.

"Archer says he can see people on the walls moving around, so SOMEONE heard that," whispered Fujimaru.

Slowly, the gates began to grind open - a single man was pushing them aside. That alone would have marked him as a Servant, even if Kratos did not feel the subtle pressure that emanated from one in this man.

He was a veritable giant. Taller, and broader than even Iskandar, and covered in slabs of muscle - all of which were on full display, as the man wore little else beyond a few strips of grayish leather. Ragged, unkempt blonde hair blew in the winds where it poked out from the odd mask he wore. A naked blade, chipped from use and covered in flecks of dried blood was grasped in his hand. His eyes were crazed, but his voice, when he spoke, was level and controlled. "So…..the weak return, having grown strong. I ask, does that now make you oppressors?"

An elbow buried itself into his ribs. "Knock it off, Spartacus. This isn't the time for your usual antics." A woman stepped around Spartacus and began approaching the Roman lines, utterly without fear or concern.

Kratos did not need to see the crown on her head to know the woman to be royalty, for she carried herself with the unmistakable air of one who had been born to rule - much like the Emperor they all found themselves in the presence of lately. Bright, flame red hair streamed out behind her as she walked up to them, a sword and shield grasped in her hands. A cape fluttered from her shoulders, white, like most of her outfit. She stopped a respectable distance away from them, blue eyes narrowing. "Well, Nero. It took you long enough, didn't it?"

"Boudica." Nero almost seemed to want to flinch from the woman's gaze, before her spine straightened, and a tentative smile found its way to her face. "It does my heart good to see you still live. When our armies were separated all those months ago, I feared the worst - and Caesar claimed that Lugdunum had fallen. I am pleased to see he lied."

Boudica scoffed. "My armies almost threw yours back, and we had little more than the clothes on our backs and a handful of weapons to do it with. Behind walls like these, and with proper steel? Those United Romans never stood a chance of breaking us."

Her eyes moved to take in the rest of them. "And you bring such allies with you. Servants - more than just Lu Bu and Jing Ke, I see, have joined your ranks. As well as…." Her eyes reached Kratos, and they widened. "A g.."

"Great warrior, yeah," cut in Cu Chulainn. Boudica's eyes met his, and something unspoken passed between them. "Kratos here is my Master - yeah Kratos, I know you still don't like that term, but too bad - and a hell of a fighter, as well. Sparring with him is the most fun I've had since my days with my teacher, let me tell you."

"I…..see," Boudica's brow was furrowed. "Much seems to have occurred since we have been stuck here." She turned to Nero. "The city is yours, Nero."

She stepped aside and allowed them to begin to file into the city, though she started a bit when she laid eyes upon Fujimaru and Mash, who had been a bit overshadowed in the crowd, both having been behind Kratos and Iskandar. "Now, who are the two of you?"

Mash gave a formal bow. "Hello, your Highness. My name is Mash Kyrielight, Demi-Servant of Chaldea, and this is my Master, Ritsuka Fujimaru."

A softer light had come into Boudica's eyes. "Demi-Servant…..but you're both so young."

"Needs must," said Fujimaru, with a shrug. "I'm the only Master left to Chaldea. And even if I wasn't, stakes are high enough that I'd be here anyways." She snaked an arm around Mash's neck and pulled her back to her, causing the violet-haired girl to squeak. "And anyways, I've got my wonderful Kohai here, as well as my Sensei to keep me safe." She shrugged. "Or as safe as anyone can be in the middle of a crazy civil war in the past."

Fujimaru nudged Mash, and the Shielder began moving, keeping up with the rest of their party as they entered the city - though it was slow going as Fujimaru was still draped over Mash's back.

Boudica kept pace. "The past, then…..time-travel?" She glanced ahead to where Kratos' bulky form was. "Is that then where he comes in?"

Mash shook her head. "No. Mr. Kratos is, well, it's complicated."

"Let's just say he showed up out of the blue and saved me, and everyone else, and has kind of been on our side since," Fujimaru waved her hand in the air. "It's too long to go into here and now, I assume you and Spartacus will get the full briefing sometime before we head out to finally kick the United Roman Empire's teeth in."

"I…..see," said Boudica, who clearly didn't see at all. "I suppose I will have to wait to have it explained how something like that is walking the Earth when, by all accounts, that should be impossible." She frowned. "It will probably be later in the evening, as well. Once I saw that it was Nero approaching, I set the city to preparing a feast, both to celebrate the siege being broken at last, and to hail our saviors."

Nero was looking back and waving her arm at Boudica, beckoning her up. "Probably what she wants you for, too," said Fujimaru.

For a split second, something twisted in Boudica's expression. It wasn't simple hate - that emotion was far too plain. It was loathing. Mash was looking at Nero, not Boudica, and missed it, and it was there and gone so quickly Fujimaru was more than halfway convinced she'd imagined it - if not for the chill that ran down her spine.

Boudica's tone was tense, but pleasant, when she spoke. "I suppose she is, isn't she? I'll speak with you two later then."

She was halfway between the girls and Nero when she paused and looked back. For a second, she seemed as if something was on the tip of her tongue, but then she shook her head, and resumed walking.

From his position beside Kratos, Cu hummed. "Boudica working alongside Nero. Never thought I'd see the day." The moment Boudica arrived at Nero's side, the smaller woman began chattering at her. "They're about the two most incompatible people under the sun, given what happened between them, and yet, here they are, co-existing. It's like seeing those two Indian demigods working together - or me and that damn Medb, who I continue to be glad that we haven't run into yet."

Kratos turned his head to regard Cu. "If she was a Servant summoned by the land itself, then should she not be aware of what she opposes?"

"Eh…..," Cu raised his palm until it was flat, and waggled it from side to side. "Depends on the Servant, really. None of the ones you ran into in France knew anything about Humanity being wiped out. They did know something was wrong with France itself, at least, but only some of them were doing anything about it. If it wasn't for Siegfried, what are the odds those two girls would have ended up doing anything but bickering with each other?"

Cu glanced from side to side, seeking for something in the crowds. "And then there's that old man. He was plenty aware that something was off with this Singularity, but he was content to sit on his ass and do nothing, at least until whatever it was about you got him giving a damn again. Which is more than I can say for the rest of the Servants on that island."

"Really, Caster," said Medea, as she materialized at his side in a shower of particles. "And I must say, seeing you in my class has almost been payment enough for this job - I suppose you can teach an old dog new tricks." She laughed, melodiously at Cu's glare. "But I don't know what you expected me to do. I was summoned on that island, and had little means of making it back to the mainland, and less desire to do so. I assumed if my aid would be necessary, fate would see its way to sweeping me up in something. And lo and behold, here I am."

She raised a finger and waved it under her fellow Caster's nose. "Despite the title we carry, not all of us are heroes like you, Child of Light, forever looking for the next fight or idealistic crusade to throw ourselves into. For some of us, happiness is a quiet cottage, far away neighbors, and the freedom to pursue our own interests for a change."

"Not long ago, I would have agreed with you," said Kratos, to Medea's thinly-veiled interest. "After I left Greece, I cut myself off from the land I found myself in. My wife laid a protection stave around our woods, one that kept the outside world away." And she carefully marked trees to be used for her pyre that would crack that stave wide open, and force her husband and son to reckon with that outside world. "But one day, I could hide no longer, and the world was there, and I…and my son, had to face it." Violently, in fact. "And we learned that there were things that would not leave us alone, no matter how little we desired to be part of their quarrels."

Medea's head was tilted, and interest sparkled in her eyes. "So, what? Once you're done here - and I hear that you're only helping out this Chaldea in the hopes of finding a way back to your home - but once you are back there, will you seek out another cause to champion?"

"No," said Kratos. "Would that I could lay my axe down and be done with a life of conflict, but I do not feel that will ever be my fate. But the Odin of my world was a tyrant and a monster, one who had taken from the Nine Realms for far too long. He could no longer be allowed to continue in that path." Kratos paused, and his voice was softer when he resumed speaking. "And…..I would have helped Chaldea regardless. To try to be the man my son believes me to be."

Suddenly, a shadow loomed over Kratos. "Well spoken!" A grin so manic that it almost seemed that teeth were being bared at the Spartan, if not for the friendly, almost overjoyed tone of the speaker's voice. "I had concerns when I saw what you were - gods are oppressors, almost one and all. But to hear you rose up against an oppressor god yourself, and are aiding humans in their fight, and would have done so regardless?" The behemoth of a man barked out laughter that threaded the boundary between sanity and outright madness. "You may well be a brother-in-arms, yes!"

Kratos looked up at the Servant (and again, some part of him continued to marvel at how often he found himself doing that of late). "You are Spartacus. The gladiator who rose up against Rome?"

"I AM!" More laughter. "Romans are oppressors, so I sought to throw them down, but the United Roman Empire are worse oppressors yet, so I find myself working with the very oppressors I once fought!" Something that might have, someday, passed within a mile of being called 'contemplative' moved across his face. "It is a strange life we Servants lead. But never a quiet one, for there are always oppressors to oppose!"

"I hear that," chuckled Cu. "My life is much easier when I'm just an attack dog - 'go there, Cu', 'kill that Servant, Cu.' And so on. Wars like this are complicated when I can't just stick my flag in the ground and duel the other side's champions day in and day out."

That comment got Cu his own facefull of grinning gladiator. "I know your story, Child of Light. You too stood up against an oppressor, an evil queen who sought to grind all of Ulster beneath her heel. And you died on your feet, spiting her even with your death!" Spartacus' laugh was mirthful, for as guttural as it was. "Well done!"

"Buddy, you want an oppressor, you won't find much better than that crazy bitch," Cu hung his head. "The things I have to do on the Throne so she won't catch sight of me and then spend the rest of the day chasing me around, like some kind of psycho pink poodle. I don't know what's worse, the innuendos, or the veiled death threats that halfway also sound like innuendos."

They had been making steady time through the city, once more being hailed as heroes (or for the first time - Kratos had not been present when the Roman Legions had arrived at Mediolanum, but from what he understood, they had been welcomed in this fashion). It was, in a way, somewhat similar to how a victorious Spartan army would be received upon their return home. The cries were different - and Spartans were not ones to shower the red petals down upon their warriors, as was being done to them now, but at its core, the emotion was the same.

He found that it was not something he had missed. The praise he had received from being the general of Ragnarök had been uncomfortable enough - much less the near-reverence the surviving Valkyries showed him. This…..this was too much.

He would be glad when it was over.

As they drew up to the gates of the palace, where, of all things, a small stage had been constructed - hastily it seemed. Nero's eyes were wide as she looked to Boudica, who nodded dismissively. Nero impulsively (or possibly not - the woman had, as Fujimaru put it, 'more hands than an octopus' - whatever that meant - whenever she was around someone who caught her eye for beauty) threw her arms around the woman, who stiffened, and did not relax until Nero was halfway up the stairs leading to the stage.

Once she reached the center of the stage, the crowds roared, something that made the Emperor beam. "MY PEOPLE!" she cried, her voice easily carrying over the noise of the throngs of people crowding to see her. "You have endured, and suffered much, these past months! The hardships you must have had to endure - I can only imagine!" She opened her arms, beckoning to the crowd. "But my heart SWELLED to see the walls of this great city still standing! And it swelled AGAIN to see Queen Boudica when the gates opened, and to know that her leadership and bravery saw you through that long night!"

Her foot stomped down onto the stage with a crack. "BUT THE DAWN HAS COME! The so-called United Roman Empire is in shambles, fleeing from our renewed MIGHT! Soon, we shall lay siege to the capital of their miserable Empire, and RAZE IT TO THE GROUND!"

The crowd roared. Amidst the cheers of 'AVE NERO!', there were more than a few voices shouting Boudica's name.

Nero held up her hand for silence, which she got - after a time. "But that is a concern for tomorrow. Tonight - WE FEAST! Queen Boudica has thrown the stores open, and has had all the splendid chefs of the city preparing a repast for us all - commoner, soldier, noble, and yes, even Emperor - tonight! Tonight, let us celebrate this city's return to Rome's bosom, and the beginning of the end of this pretender Empire claiming the name of GLORIOUS ROME!"

Deafening applause rained down upon her.

LATER THAT EVENING​

"I know I've said it before, but the Emperor can really work a crowd," said Fujimaru. "She had them eating out of the palm of her hand before she'd even said a word."

They were all seated around Nero's table, just outside her tent in the middle of the massive Legion camp. Food had been brought out from the city in a steady stream since midday, and massive pots had been set up to cook the evening's fare. A great number of hunters, as well, had been dispatched to the nearby woods. As day turned to early evening they had begun trickling back, all bearing some form of game that was quickly turned over to the various cooks, and the smell of roasting meat began drifting on the wind.

There were spirits, as well - to both Jing Ke and Cu's delight. The nobility of the city had enthusiastically donated the contents of their wine cellars for tonight's celebration, and the sounds of revelry had begun to echo out from the city at an early hour - and was quickly matched by similar noises from the Legion camps.

Mash and Fujimaru (to the girl's continued annoyance) were drinking water. Cu had argued against it - reasoning that if the girl was old enough to fight and die for a cause, then she was old enough to get good and proper drunk, but Da Vinci and Romani had been adamant in their refusals, at which point Cu had thrown his hands up in the air and surrendered.

(Fujimaru had a sneaking suspicion that he hadn't tried all that hard, with the thought process of 'more for me this way'.)

"Kind of comes with the Emperor territory, girl," said Jing Ke, through a drunken hiccup. "Qin Shi Huang might have been a dictator bad enough to get a group of like-minded people including me desperate enough to hatch a plan to kill him, but the man could move a nation with his words alone. How else do you explain him being able to get something like the Great Wall built? He didn't ONLY use the whip and the bootheel."

Lu Bu made a sharp hissing noise. "And how did your life end, big guy?" Jing Ke reached out and slapped the Berserker across the arm. "Got to use the carrot AND the stick - can't just use one or the other all the time. Or, in your case, treachery, which was your go-to."

Lu Bu's reply was almost morose.

"Speaking of our tiny, but formidable Emperor, where is she?" asked Cu, glancing about.

"Emperor Nero is seeing to the festivities in the city," said Mash. "She said she would be joining us later, but she wanted to make sure everything was going well for the people of Lugdunum before that." Mash smiled. "She said, given how much they went through when the Roman Legions were forced to retreat, they deserved this feast more than anyone, and so, she wanted it to be as grand as possible."

Mash poked her index fingers together. "I kind of get the sense that she feels responsible for everything her citizens have had to go through in this war."

"On the one hand, that's admirable," said Fujimaru. "On the other hand, everyone around this table knows who's to blame, and it rhymes with Dev Dainur." Her face turned down into a grimace. "But the clock's ticking for him. Won't be long before we're knocking on his door."

"I'll drink to that!" crowed Cu. "Something about that guy made my skin crawl back in Fuyuki, and I had to spend quality time around Kirei f*cking Kotomine, so I grew a thick skin where slimy sorts are concerned."

"Still, she's so busy," said Mash. "I don't think I've seen her stop moving since she entered the city. I hope Emperor Nero can find some time to stop and rest and relax tonight."

"Not just her," said Fujimaru, glancing across the camp. "Boudica's been just as busy. She was even helping the cooks with the soups a little while ago." She licked her lips. "Got to say, whatever she put in it, it was damn tasty."

Kratos grunted. He had little appetite this evening, for some reason. He had had a bit of boar, but little else. This whole celebration sat ill with him. He understood the reasons and necessity behind it, he did, but he would have saved such for after the United Roman Empire was vanquished.

(And King Leonidas was freed, said a part of his mind.)

"I'm glad you enjoyed it!" said Boudica, as she approached their table. "I thought about warning you away from it - the cooks in this city are all poor hands at soups, something I can testify to after eating their fare for months on end. That's why I helped with their preparations tonight. It wouldn't do to send out a poor meal to the people who worked so hard, both inside and outside this city, for the past few months."

"It was very good, Queen Boudica," said Mash.

Boudica's smile turned a touch wistful, as she reached out to pat Mash on the head. "I told you, you don't need to call me Queen. Boudica is fine. But I'm glad you liked it. It's the same recipe I used to make for my daughters…."

She sighed, and shook her head, seeming to banish the brief bout of melancholy. "Anyways, I'm going to go find Nero. She should eat something sooner rather than later, she's been running around all day. She'll keel over and collapse if she doesn't get something in her belly."

As the Iceni Queen walked away, Kratos pushed himself up from the table, something that immediately drew every eye at the table to his form.

Unsurprisingly, it was Cu who proved best able to read the Spartan's mood. "Need some air - and maybe a break from all, well, this?" he said, waving an arm vaguely at the ongoing celebration.

Kratos grunted, and began walking away from the camp, into the night. A few shouted words and a handful of waves caressed his back as he trudged off.

He did not look back.

After a few moments, the sound of the army had lessened, and he stopped, taking a deep breath of the cool night air.

Too many people, too much noise, and far too much revelry. How many years had it been since he'd seen any sort of celebration? His years in the Nine Realms had been quiet, for the most part. Even in the aftermath of Odin's defeat, the survivors of Ragnarök had been too concerned with picking up the pieces of their lives to give any thought to some grand celebration to mark the passing of the All-Father. The Aesir had lost their homes, Vanaheim was still a realm broken by years of occupation, and a thousand other things needed to be addressed.

(His son had also left in the wake of Ragnarök. It had been a necessary thing, true. But it still hurt. No wonder he had felt little desire to cheer at their victory.)

And, Boudica's words about her daughters had brought Calliope to his mind. He knew well the loss that occasionally twisted the Celtic woman's face - in his most private moments, it was an expression that he also wore.

(A voice in his head, one that sounded far too much like Athena hissed at him that she had only had her daughters taken from her - had not slaughtered them with her own hands. Kratos ignored the shade, if that was what it was, and not merely his guilt speaking, with the ease of long practice.)

Kratos stood alone in the night's chill, and remembered.

So he was taken by complete surprise when the screaming started.

Even as far away from the camp as he was, he heard it. The voices of men, innumerable, crying out in agony. He turned.

They melted out of the shadows as if they had been made of darkness itself. Men, bearing weapons.

Normally, he would have drawn his axe and laid about his foes with the weapon that was left to him by his wife. But with his memories so consumed by his daughter, he found the Blades of Chaos grasped in his hands, their weight almost familiar this night.

He saw things only in the flashes of the fires of the twinned weapons, brief bursts of light that momentarily pushed the darkness back. The Blades flying around him, forcing men back - those men who were able to avoid the flying metal, that is. A gout of fire as he grasped a man by the neck and split his skull in two, then tossed the lifeless body aside. An entire human form, engulfed in flames for a heartbeat, before turning to ash. A ruined form, the stumps of their legs still glowing white-hot where the Blades had cauterized them, trying to drag themselves away, before a burning dagger flew through the night and buried itself in their back.

Then it was over, and Kratos stood alone, surrounded by bodies.

He held one of the Blades up, the fires still coating the metal granting him some amount of sight - he had left the dwarves' light back in his tent in camp, something he was chiding himself for doing. The men who had attacked them - for men they were - had coated their bodies in pitch. That explained why they had blended into the night so well. Parts of their bodies too, were painted with a bright blue pigment, in designs that bore passing similarities to the tattoos that Kratos wore.

A memory tugged at him - Mimir commenting on how, if his markings had been blue, he'd have looked just the part of a warrior from his homelands, coated in 'woad' and ready for battle.

By the time his mind had processed this, he was flying back to the camp.

He arrived to a scene of chaos. Everywhere, men we doubled over, retching, screaming - those who were still moving, and not lying still in pools of their own bloody vomit. Not every soldier was affected - many were not, but a good half of their forces were down.

The human forces, at least. The Homunculi soldiers seemed unaffected, for the moment.

"Kratos!" Iskandar's worried face turned to him as the Spartan thundered up to Nero's tent. "It's poison!"

"Digitalis of some kind," said Chiron, huddled over a whimpering man. "We have some antidotes in the medical supplies from Chaldea, but not NEARLY enough for this!"

Kratos looked around - someone was missing. "Where is Fujimaru?"

"Mash has gone to collect her," said Waver, who was surveying the camp with a cold, clinical eye. "She had gone to use the privy, of all things, when this started. I can still contact her mentally, so she doesn't seem to be affected by this."

"I was attacked, away from the camp," said Kratos. "Men, their bodies covered in pitch….and what I believe to be woad."

Cu had gone white as a sheet. "Oh no….."

Iskandar stood up to his full height. "Kratos, we need to find Nero! If this is what we think it is, then she's in great danger." The man growled, fury simmering in his eyes. "I will attempt to restore order here! Archer and Caster will be needed to try to save as many lives as we can from this….DISASTER! The boy and Mash can protect their Master in the meantime, if we are beset by more of the men who attempted to take your life."

"I suppose I can assist as well," Medea materialized from nothingness. Her finger jumped to point at El-Melloi. "You, the Modern Mage! Get me a kettle boiling, and let me see what reagents and herbs we have access to! I might be able to brew up a counter-agent, depending."

The man was already leaping to obey her orders, Iskandar's voice booming over the camp, as Kratos set off in a dead run, heading for the city gates. Nero was supposed to have been heading in their direction - assuming the woman had not gotten sidetracked, as she was wont to do.

As he entered the city, he saw that the carnage was not confined to the camps. People - the inhabitants of the city were strewn about the streets and buildings, dead and dying. Red flickered at the corners of his vision as he relayed this to Iskandar, the Macedonian King's rage almost equal to Kratos' own when he heard.

There was some good news, at least. Medea had found the supplies packed by Chaldea to be 'shockingly adequate' (her exact words) and was in the midst of creating what she hoped would be an antidote that could be spread through the air, with the aid of an increasingly harried El-Melloi and Cu, who was using his druidic magics to grow plants that had not been included, but were badly needed for the Witch's brew.

Perhaps they could salvage something from this. But he had to find Nero, and soon.

He did not know how he heard it over the screams surrounding him, but he did. Perhaps it was simply that it was a sound more familiar to him after all these years than even his mother's voice would have been.

Combat.

His speed doubled, as he hurled himself towards the sound.

He rounded the corner, and saw it. Nero, desperately defending herself against Boudica, her Praetorian Guard littering the city streets around her. Tears of rage and sorrow leaked from the Emperor's eyes as she twirled in a frantic circle, blade screaming for Boudica's head, only for the Iceni Queen to raise her shield and intercept the blow with contemptuous ease. Her other hand flew up and seized Nero's wrist, trapping her, as her foot shot out.

Nero's right leg bent backward with a horrific sound, one that Nero's scream didn't quite manage to drown out. Gasping with pain, she looked up at Boudica, and managed only a single word.

"Why?"

Then she jerked, her voice barely a whimper, as Boudica's sword slid into her gut.

"I told you you should get something in your belly tonight, Nero. Though I doubt you thought it would be this." Sneering, Boudica kicked Nero from her blade, the woman collapsing to the ground and curling up into a ball.

"I didn't want to do this, you know," While her words were aimed at Nero, Boudica was looking straight at Kratos. "I could bite my tongue and put my hatred for Nero, for accursed ROME behind me, for the sake of humanity. But then, after the United Romans pulled back, some of my people found me. They'd heard, somehow, that I had returned, and they were looking for me. Do you know why, Emperor of Roses?"

It was uncertain if Nero was even capable of answering. Boudica continued on regardless.

"It seems the United Roman Empire never made it to my homeland. Maybe they considered it too much trouble to cross the waters, or simply wanted to subjugate the mainland before heading further north to Britannia. But that didn't stop word from spreading there. Do you know what your people have been doing?" Boudica was spitting her words, her voice cracking. "Extermination! With my rebellion still a recent memory, they were worried that the tribes might choose to give aid to the United Roman Empire, so they've been wiping out entire villages - ENTIRE TRIBES, NERO! JUST LIKE MY DAUGHTERS!"

She was heaving short, rapid breaths into her lungs. When she spoke again, her voice was soft. "That was when I realized it - United Roman Empire, Roman Empire, you're both the same thing. Monsters. And Heroic Spirits kill monsters."

She began to raise her sword.

Kratos took off, the Blades of Chaos already warming in his hands. But a massive, slate-gray form crashed into him, knocking him aside.

"Oppressors, oppressors, oppressors!" sang Spartacus. "The United Roman Empire was the oppressors, and the Romans the oppressed, but the Romans oppress Boudica's people, so her people are the true oppressed, and I raise my blade to crush the oppressors!" The battle-worn blade cut down, and was caught by the Blades of Chaos. The gladiator's mad eyes met Kratos' over their locked weapons. "Even a noble god like yourself has been fooled by the oppressors! What a shame, what a shame!"

Kratos heaved against the hulking Servant, pushing him back, but unable to knock him aside. He did not have TIME to fight this madman!

Boudica was standing over Nero, her eyes bitter. "Goodbye Nero. I'm sorry it had to come to this - if only you Romans could have been something better than what you are."

The sword cut down.

And was met by another, the moment before it would have taken Nero's head from her shoulders.

There was no hint of the slouch, or stooped shoulders in the old man. He stood tall, his back straight, as he caught Boudica's attack and pushed it up and away from the vulnerable Roman Emperor. "I'm sorry girl, but I can't let you do that." There was no trace of his former accent - his words now were colored with a thicker elocution, but one that felt more natural to him.

Boudica's eyes widened. "Who…who ARE you? All the Servants Nero brought with her are accounted for! Where did you come from?"

The man laughed. "I'm not one of the boy's, if that's what you're thinking. I just tagged along to keep an eye on him. Good thing that I did, as it turns out. As to who I am?"

With his free hand, he reached up and pulled his hood back. On the ground, even through her pain, Nero's eyes enlarged, until they were nearly bugging out of her head. "At…..the gates…." she whispered.

The man smiled down at her. "That's right, Emperor. Today will always be the day that Hannibal Barca saved the life of a Roman Emperor - an act that my father and gods will likely never forgive me for."

Boudica tore her sword away and leapt back from the Servant. "But…WHY? You should have as many reasons as I do to HATE these monsters! Why do you SAVE her?"

"Oh, I do, lass, I do," Hannibal shook his head. "Hated them so much that I tried to flee to somewhere far, far away from either of the Roman Empires infesting this place. FIFTEEN YEARS I spent fighting these whor*sons, only to have Carthage itself abandon me, again and again, until I was an exile from the place I'd fought for all my life, and the only choices I had left were Roman captivity, or poison." He huffed a laugh. "Some of that going around tonight."

"Then I met that boy. As tired of fighting as I am, but he kept going. It was interesting - particularly in a god. So I listened, and I heard that this was more than some pissing match between Romes, this was about Humanity itself." He shook his head. "And wouldn't you know it, that managed to kindle a fire in myself that I had thought had gone out long ago."

He stepped in front of Nero, bodily placing himself between the fallen Emperor and Boudica. "I can't say you're wrong to hate her. Be rather hypocritical of me, all things considered. But there's bigger things than either of our feelings riding on all this, Queen of Victory. So I'm going to ask, as politely as I can, for you to put your sword down and stop all this."

Boudica was still for a long moment. "Spartacus!" The mad Servant shoved Kratos back and rumbled to the Celtic Queen's side. As he arrived, men began to reveal themselves - on the roofs of buildings, and in alleyways, all around them. More Celtic warriors.

"Fine. Let the Emperor keep her life this night. It won't matter in the end." She turned, and began walking away. "You can choose to pursue me, or save her life - but you can't do both. Not with only two of you, even if one of you is a god."

Kratos growled, the Blades of Chaos almost searingly hot in his hands, but Hannibal looked over at him, then down to Nero, and shook his head. The message was simple - Nero was fading fast.

So he made no move as Boudica began to withdraw.

"You'll buy her a few more days of life, at best," shouted Boudica, her voice echoing throughout the city. "I sent those of my people back to my home with orders - orders to push the Roman filth infesting our island back into the sea. Even now, my forces are crossing the ocean, and are massing to the north. Go, fight the United Roman Empire. We will be sweeping down to put whichever of you wins to the sword."

Kratos lost sight of her, and at that, he thought it was over. But her voice bellowed through the city one last time.

"If you CAN defeat the United Roman Empire! For the one who leads them is ROMULUS HIMSELF!"

NERO'S TENT

TWO HOURS LATER

"The thing I want to know," said Cu, as they were all huddled around the table in Nero's tent, waiting anxiously for Chiron and Medea to deliver news on the Emperor's state. "Is where you learned that accent? It was real enough to fool me - thought there was something off with it, but I couldn't put my finger on what exactly it was. Didn't ever cross my mind that you might be faking it."

Hannibal laughed from where he was slouched in a chair. "When I crossed the Alps, a good chunk of my forces were Celts, Hound - yes, I could tell who you were the second I laid eyes on you. You were a popular story around the campfires of your kinfolk. Fifteen years I spent, fighting the Romans tooth and nail with your countrymen - in the end, they supported my war a hell of a lot more than Carthage did. Spend that long around hard bastards like them, and you think I didn't pick up how to mimic their accent?"

He shrugged, and laughed. "Kept people from guessing who I was, so long as no Roman got a good look at me. I put the fear of Carthage into a whole damn generation of them, s'why I kept my hood up after I left that island."

Whatever reply Cu might have had was cut off by Chiron ducking through the curtains that portioned Nero's bed off from the rest of the tent.

"How is she?" asked Fujimaru, worry evident on her face.

"She was very, very lucky," said Chiron. "The break of her knee was clean, and Boudica - probably deliberately, missed any vital areas when she stabbed the Emperor. Between your Mystic Code, and Medea and my skills, she should make a full recovery. And a somewhat quicker one, as well."

"She's also insisting on seeing you all," came Medea's voice, from behind the curtains. "And I'm not getting enough recompense to argue with her, so you'd best get in here."

Slowly, they filed into the 'bedchamber'.

Nero was not a large woman - Kratos could have easily rested his elbow on her head while they were both standing, if he ever so desired. But lying in her bed, she was smaller than he had ever seen her.

Even her eyes were a fraction of their usual size. And he had to strain himself to hear her voice. "How badly did she hurt us?"

"It could have been much, much worse," said Iskandar, his face grim. "Maybe a fourth of our forces are dead - we're still counting, but that is where it's leaning. Without Medea's quick action, we could have lost much more of our forces." He frowned. "We're still tallying the losses in the city."

"That's only the humans," said Fujimaru, softly. "The Homunculi weren't affected at all. I'd guess it's because Lev engineered them to be able to eat spoiled or tainted food and keep going, so they could feed them cheaply. But that, as much of a bastard thing to do as it was, meant their systems were able to filter out the poison safely."

"And Servants are usually too hardy to be affected much by poison that doesn't come from a Phantasmal or another Servant, so that explains why all the rest of us are fine," said Jing Ke. "Though it does raise the question of how Fujimaru survived. The poison was in the soup, and I saw you have two whole bowls."

"It's a discussion for another time," said El-Melloi. "We have much more immediate concerns."

Nero took a deep breath, and gasped out a single word. "Morale."

"Yes," said Valerius, who was pale, but on his feet - he had been one of the first to receive Medea's treatment, by sheer proximity. "The traitor queen was not shy. She shouted her army's coming to all four winds as she left. As well as the identity of the leader of the United Roman Empire."

His face twisted, and he seemed to be considering his words carefully. "My Emperor….you knew, and said nothing? How could you?"

For a second, there was a hint of the usual Nero. "I….I was afraid, my Legate. To hear that our Holy Progenitor himself opposed us? How does anyone, even the Emperor of Rome itself, deal with such?" She fell back into the bed, deflating. "Whatever my reason, the decision, for good or for ill, was mine, and it is done. Now tell me how badly it has hurt us."

"The men, from the lowest serf to my closest officers are reeling. To lose so many of our army in an act of treachery, when we felt like we were at our highest point, is one thing. But then to hear that Romulus himself has set his will against ours?" He shook his head dejectedly. "If we do not lose another fourth of our standing forces to desertion, I will be shocked."

No one had anything to say to that. Mash, cradling a somber Fou in her arms (the creature's preference for meat was the only thing that had spared his life, and Mash had been unwilling to let him out from the circle of her arms since things had calmed down), was the one to break the silence. "Then, what do we do?"

"We're right between a bastard rock and a sh*t hard place," said Cu. "Boudica, assuming she isn't lying, is coming for us all. And the United Roman Empire is looming somewhere out of sight. And our army's not in the shape to deal with either, right now."

"If we settle affairs with the United Roman Empire, and capture the Holy Grail, Boudica's army becomes a non-issue," said Iskandar. "That should reset things back to how they were in the proper course of history. But the men are near broken. They do not believe they can win - not against Romulus himself."

Nero was staring at Kratos. "Kratos. I believe it is time we discuss a change to the arrangement we had, when you returned to Mediolanum."

FAR TO THE NORTH

AT THAT SAME TIME

Spartacus loped alongside Boudica's chariot, his massive strides easily keeping up with the Queen's vehicle. Despite the ever-present grin on his face, his mind was troubled.

For one, they had not managed to wipe out the oppressors today, as he, and Boudica had wanted to. Nero yet lived, she who was responsible for the atrocities that had happened in Britannia, both during Boudica's life and after. He could have made an attempt, tried to slay them, but he had agreed to follow Boudica's lead in overthrowing her oppressors. The Iceni Queen was as great an enemy of oppressors as he could hope to find, so he had agreed to fall back if she found it to be necessary.

And, to make the attempt to kill Nero, he would have had to fight that god.

Despite himself, knowing that the god had been fooled by the oppressors, some part of him hadn't wanted to fight him. A god who had fought against other gods who had been oppressors? It was almost unheard of. So he had been just a bit happy to retreat with Boudica.

He had seen the marks on the god's wrists - chain-marks that had been seared into the flesh itself, likely by those fearsome weapons he carried on his back. No, that man knew the weight of oppression, he was certain of it. And he had seized the weapons that had oppressed him, and used them against those who oppressed. Odin himself likely died to those blades.

Yes. It was no wonder he felt conflicted when his thoughts returned to possibly having to kill this Kratos-god.

His voice, quieter than his usual bombastic shouts, broke the silence. "Boudica……are we doing the right thing?"

His answer was a long time in coming, but it did eventually arrive. "I have to believe we are, Spartacus." She looked over at him, her eyes two empty blue pits. "I don't have anything else left, now."

AUTHOR'S NOTES: Well, there you have it. The identity of the old man of the island is revealed, and I show my hand on what I've been planning for Boudica.

I continue to be pants at guessing how long it takes to get from point A to point B. I'm assuming about a week from Mediolanum to Lugdunum from the maps I'm using, considering an army marching, with the need to stop and do all the fortification that was standard practice for the Roman Legions in making camp.

This isn't the last we'll see of Boudica - she's still got a part to play in this Singularity. And, to note, I had planned everything that happened with her here long before I added Hannibal to this story - he just got to do the save instead of Kratos when I added him.

Historians don't quite agree on how Hannibal died - I'm going with him committing suicide to keep Rome from capturing him story, since that fits best with the Rome-hating, bitter old man I've been writing him as.

This chapter brought to you by Threed, Zombie Central.

Three months out from a full calendar year I've been working on this story. I swear, the time flies like you wouldn't believe.