Total War part 2

Though Berserker of Black, Frankenstein, does not show it on her face, she still feels rather puzzled.

Obeying the orders she had first been given, she had been scouring the battlefield for Servants when she saw a figure and followed it into the woods. But what appeared before her eyes was no Servant.

"Looks like you are my opponent, Frankenstein. The tragic creature created from a human's pursuit for perfection. In some way, you could said to be a turning point, or a midway point that was seen as the final destination."

The one who speaks these intriguing lines that seem to have little to do with the current situation is a human. He does not look to be a Servant. But, is he really a human or not?

Berserker of Black cannot judge this very well with her observation skills.

"Uu--"

Though the Dragon Tooth Soldiers attack her, she is able to decimate them with ease. Seeing how they did not even touch this man in front of her, he is indeed her enemy.

However, even if that much is clear, how does he know her true name?

Even her Master, Caules, had been surprised. Frankenstein, in all legends, was described as a man, and a giant to boot. So he should not have been able to predict her identity from her appearance.

...Unless he saw her during her lifetime?

But that should also be impossible. She was a young Heroic Spirit born from dreams in an era when dreams were still barely enough to consecrate her. There were very few people born in her time who became heroes. Even if they existed, they should not have met her.

Then, who exposed her real name to him...?

"Ah, your thoughts really are relatively clear. Even though you have become a Berserker, you have still retained a certain amount of higher thought functions. You truly are a Heroic Spirit of the modern age."

With a bright smile, the man extends his hand to Berserker and speaks.

"I know about you, and I understand you. How about it? Would you be willing to come to our side in lieu of Berserker of Red?"

Hearing this, Berserker's suspicions heighten and she gives off threatening roars. The man, seeing this, lowers his hand with an apologetic smile.

"That would, of course, be impossible, my Master."

Berserker's vigilance further increases. Behind the man, there appears another person who can clearly be recognized as a Servant. His prana is rather flimsy--his outfits does not look like battle armor either. Is it possible that this is Caster?

"Oh, please forgive my intrusion. I have no intention of fighting. The one who will fight is this Master. I will just stand by and observe, and maybe cheer him on.

Saying so, he promptly does something a Servant should never do--he ducks behind his Master as if he is using him as a meat shield. There is no indication that he intends to use magic of any sort. It is unbelievable. The opponent...is actually leaving the fighting to their Master.

"Yes, thee one who will fight is I--Shirou Kotomine."

In the motion of lowering his hand, "knives" appear between the spaces of two fingers. With her lack of knowledge, Berserker is unable to tell what sort of weapons they are.

However, someone who possesses the relevant knowledge would be able to tell at a glance. They are projectile conceptual weapons woven from magic on the principle of purifying things--Black Keys.

"If you have any intention to come to our side, then tell me at anytime."

At the same time he makes the offer while smiling, Shirou launches his Black Keys.

"...!?"

As she leaps back, Berserker parries the Black Keys with Bridal Chest.

"--Na--Naooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooh!!"

Now she has come to a conclusion. No matter what, the enemy Master has appeared in front of her as an opponent. No matter what sort of trap this involves, this is the worst that things can get. Of course, she still has to watch out for Caster, who is in material form, but even so, she should not lose to her opponent.

So, Berserker charges forward forcefully. At that time, Shirou launches another four Black Keys with a wave of his hand. For a human, that is indeed a very fast speed. If she slack off her defense, she is in danger of being impaled.

However, if they are launched directly from the front, with no accompanying tricks, they are meaningless. Beserker deflects them again and continues to advance.

"--Incredible."

Her enemy comments her as if he is in no danger. Berserker cannot help but start to feel agitated. Would he still be so relaxed if she smashed his face in with her fist? Let's find out--!

"--I announce."

In that moment, what seems to be a bolt of lightning streaks past her. She reflexively turns her body and Bridal Chest three-hundred-sixty degrees--the Black Keys she had deflected just now were flying toward her again. It seems that the hilts had been strengthened with a tracking spell previously.

"Ah, what a waste."

Was Shirou's mumbling directed to himself, or toward the fact that she had parried all of the Black Keys in time?

It does not matter--Berserker quickly switches her line of thought. She cannot endure long periods of complex guessing. She can only charge forward stupidly, with all her strength...!

"Alright, then, Caster, I'm going to use it now."

Saying so, Shirou raises his hand in the air. In an instant, the weapon appears in his hand with the release of his prana. Berserker, continuing her charge, focuses her eyes on katana in the iron sheathe. Simultaneously, she feels unsurpassed shock. It is unbelievable, how that knife is charged with so much prana--it is clearly a Noble Phantasm!

"Mm-hm.. Use it, please! Use it as you would like! Like wind that fans a flame, like the storm that comes besides the lightning! The neverending story starts right here!"

As Caster releases his excited cries, Shirou starts running. His left hand whips the katana out of its sheath in one motion, and in the same motion, lowers his body to thrust the sword.

"Uu--UUUUUUUUUUUUUUU!"

Berserker, who had not expected his sudden approach, is nicked by the katana. This fact increases her suspicions that the knife is no normal weapon. There are not many weapons that can harm Servants to be found in this world.

Berserker lifts her mace, and slashes and crashes start being traded. The katana, which might have been warped by a hit, does not show have even a scratch.

There was no advanced techniques or artistry in the style. Shirou's sword moves are only average. Though he is above the level of a mere soldier, he is far worse than an expert. But, then, how could he fight on an even level with Berserker?

...Of course, Berserker herself is not a Heroic Spirit renowned for her martial arts. She only rose to became a Heroic spirit through her brutality, ruthlessness, and her strange origin. But even so, her original function makes her a game-breaker.

She is the product of imitating an infinite energy loop and a type two perpetual motion machine. She can move at full capacity under any conditions. She never shows the human symptoms of needing to catch her breath or using up all her strength. Before her opponent falls, she can keep on beating at them forever without the need to take a breath--because of this, she received the Class of Berserker.

Those who could take such a perpetual motion machine head-on--those people should not exist. Of course, since he is Executor of the Holy Church, it would not be too strange to think he had training which would allow him to overcome the limits of ordinary humans.

But no matter what, this is too noticeable--Berserker starts feeling an uneasy thinking feeling in the pit of her stomach.

Her mace, swept out in a wide arc, suddenly smashes down--he dodges it. That does not matter. If it was only that, it would be nothing too significant. Even if he is a mere human, so long as he trained to demon levels, then he had the possibility of dodging. The problem is how he dodges; by mere millimeters. An iron wrecking ball that can reduce his head to pulp in a second, swiping millimeters before his nose...in that situation, how can anyone still smile?

His smile is irritating, Berserker thinks to herself. The look in his eyes is also irritating. But the most important part is that everything about him irritates her!

Shirou jumps a step back and lengthens their distance. In one hand, he holds his sword, in the other, he holds Black Keys.

The maddened artificial life form chooses to charge without hesitation toward the coming projectiles.

***

Shirou suddenly halts his moments. He tsks his tongue and jumps back with a grim expression.

"Caster, we have to retreat. Looks like her perception was quicker than we had imagined. Or...perhaps she received some revelation."

Berserker of Black feels confused by how Shirou suddenly increased their distance, so she decides to observe the situation for a moment first.

"I hear that to uphold a fair and unselfish judgement, most of those who are selected to be Rulers are Saints. Perhaps she's one of those types."

Caster of Red shrugs his shoulders in a mocking manner.

"Looks that way...this is a vital point, Caster. If she tries to object to my presence now, the situation will become muddled. No, in your words, it would become very boring indeed."

"To stretch out unimportant parts of the narrative is the hallmark of a mediocre work. So, Master, let's temporarily end our story on the battlefield here."

"Yes, let's retreat--there's no big problem. By the opposite coin, as long as we get past this, everything will go smoothly. Soon, the circumstances will develop to the point that even Ruler has no power to control them. Looks like my intuition was correct. I was narrowly able to avert 'death.'"

Saying so, Shirou, to create a barrier, sticks the Black Key in the ground before Berserker, who was readying herself to barrel forward again. After that, he puts all of his strength into escaping.

"Master. Ruler is going straight toward your direction. Hurry! There is no way to defend against her using only Dragon Tooth Warriors!"

"I know!"

He starts feeling a little nervous. Shirou disregards that emotion and increases his speed again. In this dark forest, unlit even by moonlight, Shirou dashes forward seemingly without care. His speed could be said to be freakish. Right now, Shirou is going at more than sixty miles per house.

...And there is someone pursuing him closely. When Shirou looks behind himself as sees that person, he cannot help but open his eyes a little wider.

"Berserker of Black...I did not think she would come chasing."

Upon seeing that barrier created by the Black Key, Berserker decided to pursue that Master named Shirou. It was an emotion that should not have been borne by an artificial creation, something that could be called intuition.

Though Caules had instructed her that "If the Master and Servant escape, then go attack another Servant somewhere else," she had rejected the order with her grumbling.

To sum it up, in truth--even she does not know what is going on.

She can only feel that if she lets the man escape, something "very bad" will happen. That Master is definitely a dangerous existence. Going back to it, is that man really a Master?

From what she can feel, it is like he is practically--

"--Uu!?"

As if to derail her train of thought, she can see four blades coming in front of her eyes. It seems as if her opponent, while escaping and concealing his location, had launched Black Keys at her.

Berserker quickly makes the wisest choice--that is to disregard it entirely.

She feels no pain, and all she receives is flesh wounds, none of them major. These are blades of prana, after all, and its impact on material things are limited. They are not weapons that can defeat Servants.

Even so, being hit head-on might be slow a pursuer down--if the one chasing was not her.

"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!"

Giving a scream that would make even a human heart itself vibrate, she starts chasing even more quickly. She pays no attention to the Black Keys stuck in her body. It does not take long for the hilts to lose their prana and fall from her body, which allows her wounds to instantly heal.

"--Not what I expected."

Shirou, who looks back to see that scene unfold, does not know whether to be impressed or defeated. He could accept her striking the Black Keys aside, and it would even be for the best since his objective is to make her stop following. However, she did not change speed even after taking that attack...!

"Her creator. He was called Dr. Frankenstein, right? How did he design such a monster anyway?"

Shirou can only show Caster of Red a defeated smile in reply--and at that time, he suddenly came up with a brutal plan.

"Caster, please emerge. I need your 'Globe Theater.'"

Seconds later, Caster blinks into existence carrying a book.

"Oh, like that! Then I shall allow you to see he who you both love and hate! 'Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player, that struts and frets his hour upon the stage, and then is heard no more; it is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.'"

He loudly recites these lines, and in the dark forest appears an incredible miracle. Once he sees it take effect, Caster of Red once again goes into spirit mode to follow Shirou.

And then, Berserker of Black, who continues to follow Shirou, meets that man there.

"...Uu...!?"

Bewilderment, her mind is filled with only bewilderment. A man who could not appear here, is speaking to her with a gentle expression unlike himself. In life, he had never shown her that sort of smile.

"--Stop, my child."

"...Ah, aah..."

Berserker, who did not stop even when hit by Black Keys, and instead increased in speed, stopped at this point. She, who usually did not wish to reveal her emotions, opened her mouth in shock now.

The man before her eyes is indeed Dr. Frankenstein. He was the man who created her, her Father, her most hated enemy, her most--

Why? What is happening?

Berserker of Black is not surprised by his presence here. What surprises her is the gentle smile on his face. Since she first opened her eyes, the expression on her Father's face was one twisted by disgust. She thought he would give her his blessing, but the words that came from his mouth were nothing but insults.

It was something that happened on a certain peaceful night in November--

"Failure, failure, failure, failure, complete and utter failure!"

"How did this happen? This thing is practically a useless wooden puppet!"

"She has no emotions! Did I get her wires crossed? Her tear ducts are also fucked up! She's no perfect Eve! She's not even human!"

--Ah, it seems I was but a failed creation.

"I apologize, my dear Father. I apologize for being a failed creation. Forgive me, forgive me, forgive. I will change. I will improve myself. So please do not be angry, do not be angry, do not be angry."

She wanted to cry more than anything, but for some reason she cannot cry. As if she did not even have the function shed tears. Every time she tried to comfort the man who sought solace in liquor, she would always be pushed away, or beaten, or even sent flying with kicks.

She felt no pain, but every time she was beaten by him...there would be a strange constricting feeling in her heart, though she did not know what that feeling was.

After seeing her Father, who, after a few days, was still filled with hatred and regret, the girl found him very pitiful. She wondered to herself about what to do. How should she comfort her father? So, she decided to go out of the house.

--There were all sorts of things there.

Green forests. Clear, flowing pools. A brightly shining sun. If she took these things to Father, he would be very happy, wouldn't he? But even as she thought this, a wild dog pounced at her--perhaps because it had reacted to the putrid, rotting smell coming from her clothes.

As she saw the dog biting into her arm, she simply broke the dog's neck. In an instant, she received her inspiration.

"Aah, so beautiful, so beautiful. This is truly beautiful. It must be very beautiful, because I do not have these things--"

After that, she tore apart the dog's abdomen. She found even more brightly colored internal organs. This too was something she did not have, so she found it beautiful. Therefore, she decided to take these things and show her Father.

The peach colored organs were pretty, and the crimson blood was also beautiful. As for ugliness, as for filth, she completely lacked those sorts of sensations. Not even the stench of blood caused her any discomfort.

...When she showed these things to her father, their relationship suffered a decisive break. Because she was not only a failure, but she had also shown herself to be an irredeemably ugly abomination.

A life form that believes blood to be beautiful and is entranced by the sight of viscera--that is an existence called a monster.

"No, no, no. It's not like that. Really. I'm normal. I only wanted father to be happy."

Even at the very, very end, her Father never showed her a smile. He only continued to flee in terror. At the same time, her father also gave to her an undying curse.

"You are a monster! A crazed monster!"

...So, even though she desperately worked to make herself keep her normality, even as she was determined to maintain her sanity and to understand the common sense of the world, she was also determined to find a companion. Why? Because normal people all had families. Now that she had been rejected by Father, she needed a family more than anything.

However, this was not something she could attain by merely desiring it. Nor was it something she could take by force. Even so, she still tried abduct a few men to be her companion, but not one of them was able to become her family.

So, she decided to go and make a request of her father.

"Please give me someone who is willing to love me. Please give me someone who is willing to remain with me. If I am your Eve, then you have a duty to make me an Adam--"

Her father refused her request. The girl went mad from anger and sadness. Her anger came from her father's betrayal, and her sadness from the fact she already realized she would be alone even unto death.

All she hoped for was to be loved. All she hoped for was to love another. She only wanted to know what love was....No, if even that wish could never be fulfilled, then at the very least, she hopes he will hate her. She pursued her father, blamed her father, grew frustrated with his continued running and slaughtered his entire family. Even so, her father ran and ran and kept on running.

Even at that last instant, he was still running. His will had been broken. There was not even the thought of revenge against the one who had killed his loved ones left in his mind.

"Why do you refuse to hate me? Why do you refuse to look at me?"

...The girl and her father threw themselves into the funeral pyre together. With that, Frankenstein's tale ended. All that remained was the legend of the "ugly monster."