3,627Off in the distance, Rider rode his chariot low before disembarking with a grumbling Penthesilea held in princess carry. The two were bickering in a rather amusing scene, but it stood in stark contrast to the situation before Saber.
Saber did not know how to be a father or a grandfather, let alone understand what it was he should do as he watched Ais sob over the silver sword in front of her.
Around her, the area lay in ruins. Deep narrow valleys littered the landscape, pieces of rubble cut clean through and mixed with grounded debris and upturned earth. Everywhere from a radius of a mile lay in ruins, forcing those who were spectating to watch from further afar.
And at the center were Saber, Ais, and Bell Cranel who appeared hesitant on what to do in the face of a girl's tears.
Admittedly, the nervous and anxious energy Bell was displaying was both off-putting and aggravating the situation further. After all, there were no words of consolation Bell would be able to say and magically make the situation better.
Besides, within the Dragon Heart Saber had received from Sieg was an urge to safeguard the purity of a certain daughter from boys.
It came off as a genuine surprise for Saber when he found himself hoisting Bell up by the scruff of his neck, and then hurling him in the direction of Hestia.
Whether Hestia caught Bell or not was outside of Saber's attention.
It was just him and Ais now.
Memories came to mind after Sieg had returned the Dragon Heart to Saber.
Secrets of the Dungeon, a sense of responsibility, and the motivation that had driven Sieg to action despite obtaining his own cherished wish.
One aspect that Saber had to make clear was in regards to the taint of the Grail.
Glancing down at the fragment of the Holy Grail piece Sieg had been holding before his passing, Saber picked it up without hesitation. Much to the alarm of the spectating Gods and Raid Party, the Draconic taint over the Grail fragment tried to spread over Saber.
Distant shouts of 'fool,' and magic chanting could be heard in the air, but all the noise soon vanished.
Saber pulsed his magic energy, and the anti-Dragon property quickly nullified the Draconic corruption.
What was left behind was a pristine fragment that shone a radiant gold in his palm. Within it lay the power to actualize any miracle within its power. Wealth, fame, glory, it represented it all.
The true corruption came not from the Grail, but from the energy of the Evil Dragon that had taken root over it and was parasitizing the power for its own.
This was the true core of the Evil Dragon.
The fact that the Grail was fragmented indicated that something must have happened.
This Grail; no.
The Greater Holy Grail was not a tainted grail, but one fueled by an earnest wish born for humanity, and an assumption that turned into a mistake.
It was a journey and story that began on the cusp of the Reverse Side.
And where there was a Holy Grail, there would be Servants that appear with a purpose and their own desires.
One aspect was right about Saber's summoning and all the Servants that had heeded the call.
Within the Dungeon, would lay each and every one of their aspirations.
The Dungeon fed off of it, using the Holy Grail to propagate and enlarge by granting untwisted wishes.
-Sieg to create a miracle of reunion and a family.
-A Saint in request to a dear prayer.
-And now Shirou, Saber, and the rest's arrival to Orario…it would surely lend its ear.
Sometimes, too pure a desire to please and help others could turn into a sweet poison, especially if the chalice were to fall into the wrong hands.
Not all good intentions lead to positive results. For the sake of starting a family in a world that could accept the possibility, a new variable emerged.
For every cause, there is an effect.
There was much to be shared with his colleagues.
However, Saber let out a long breath and focused his thoughts on the present.
In front of Saber, Ais had finally stopped sobbing and had stood up while clutching Sieg's silver sword in her hands. Mutedly, her steps carried her towards the location of where the woman who appeared with Sieg had vanished into motes of golden light.
A Heroic Spirit, Saber was quick to categorize. One that Sieg had known fondly.
The Saint of France, Jeanne d'Arc.
Ais staired blankly at the spot where nothing remained aside from a white banner slowly fading away into light.
That's when it happened. Ais's thoughts finally caught up with her, and she bolted into action.
Carrying her father's sword, Ais hastily grabbed the fading remnant of her mother's banner and dashed away from Saber who watched on as she traced a clear path towards Caster.
If Ais had just slowed down and stared at Saber's expression, she would have seen the frown that made its way onto his face, and stopped to consider why he was making such an expression. It would have saved her the heartache.
Nonetheless, Ais was spurred on with desperation and longing.
Ais had never moved so fast, magic energy swelling around her as she flared her Falna and channeled the energy into her legs. She accelerated further, quickly reaching the front of where the Raid Party stood staring dumbfoundedly at her.
For all intents and purposes, she was a wreck. Her armour was dented, bruises were over her arms, and her eyes were puffed red as she held a sword and fading banner with a white knuckled grip.
While everyone was taken aback, Ais pushed through the crowd without hesitation, uncaring of their thoughts.
She only had a single destination in mind, and that destination was towards the boundary of Caster's territory creation where he set up a medical field.
By the time Ais's goal was understood, people were already moving.
None quicker than the Apollo Familia headed by Clio.
Ais was stopped before she could reach Caster, blocked off by the Apollo Familia who wore grim expressions. They grabbed her by the arms, and formed a wall to prevent her continued approach.
Ais did not like that, fury flickering in her pupils.
However, Clio and the others from the Apollo Familia remained firm. It was not their first time dealing with bereaved people, and they were the worst kinds to approach Caster because reasoning with them would never work.
Quick to temper, inconsolable, and refusing to take no for an answer.
Caster was only one person, and he was their God's flesh and blood.
Worse, they had seen how Ais had defended the incarnation of the Black Dragon and were rightfully wary.
"You will not approach further." Clio said firmly, giving the minimum amount of curtesy and respect as Ais was still a member of the Loki Familia.
Like a bull, Ais tried to force her way through, uncaring if her arms were being grabbed or not, greatly altering Clio's expression.
"…P-Please…P-Please!" Ais yelled while trying to force herself through. She wrestled an arm free and tried to take a step forward, but Clio had enough and tackled her to the ground.
Ais could have gotten out if she let go of the silver sword and fading banner which she held in each of her hands, but she refused to let go of them.
"CASTER!" She screamed, knowing that he could hear her.
What doctor turns away a patient?!
Ethics aside, Caster was not a man to turn a blind eye to plight. Rather, Clio and the others of the Apollo Familia had moved and made a judgement on their own.
"Let her through." Caster's voice echoed, causing Clio and the others to glare at Ais, but she didn't care.
Ais didn't even care that Apollo was glaring at her with a cautious gaze from atop Caster's head. It was Apollo that had instructed Clio and the others to block Ais, as he didn't want any risk to befall his son.
However, his son had made the decision, and Apollo could only relent.
Ais made her way to Caster in a heartbeat, laying out her father's sword and her mother's fading banner in front of him.
"Y-You want to revive the Black Dragon's incarnation?!" Clio widened his eyes as he and many other Raid Party members connected the dots.
Only a select few Gods who were acquainted or knew of Ais's father held their words.
"…" Ais bowed, pursing her lips as tears welled in her eyes.
And this was the part Caster always hated.
From the moment Caster had laid eyes on Ais and the items she brought; he understood that this would be unpleasant. However, this was his duty to bear as a doctor which was why he still allowed Ais to approach him.
Caster shook his head.
There was nothing that he could do for her.
"I'm sorry, but I cannot take this request," Caster said, causing Ais to snap her neck up in shock.
"W-Why?!" Ais stammered; voice warbled.
Caster let out a long sigh, noting the rage and pain building in Ais's monotone expression.
The answer was simple.
It was because Sieg had given his core to Saber, and that Ais's mother was a Heroic Spirit. The matter of Sieg aside, Ais's mother would have to be resummoned and reincarnated.
That was the real reason, but Caster could not say that because it wasn't something the locals could understand. Instead, there was a better way to explain it in an understandable terminology.
"Raising the dead is not as simple as you would assume," Caster said diagnostically, everyone perking their ears. Explanations from Caster were rare and far between. "It's not just a matter of making a body live again. Otherwise, if a clone were created in the same likeness as the deceased, would that still be them?"
Obviously not.
"The reason I ask for remnants of the deceased, is that more often than not, their souls are tied to their bodies, or place of death. These are called Remnant Souls, that if left alone could become wraiths or malignant entities." Caster continued, watching as Ais's expression grew blanker and blanker from rejection. "For true resurrection, what you need are body and soul."
Here, Caster took a breath and made sure to stare flatly at Ais to prevent her from obtaining any false hope. It's that hope that eats away and erodes at you that's the most dangerous.
"I can recreate a body…but I can't bring back a soul that's not there." Caster said.
"N-Not there?" Ais blurted, growing desperate. "They were here- we just spoke!"
Again, Caster shook his head.
Ais was making this harder than it had to be.
Caster had no choice but to be even more direct.
"Your father's soul remains dormant in the heart he gave to Saber, and your mother's soul has been devoured by the Evil Dragon and scattered into pieces."
Heroic Spirit's were drawn from their original template in the Throne of Heroes, so it was never guaranteed that each iteration of their summoning would have the same experiences.
Moreover, resummoning the Heroic Spirit of the woman who was Ais's mother may be a crueler act if the woman had no memories of her own daughter.
It was easier to say that the pieces of the soul that was Ais's mother had already died, and that was the most effort Caster deigned was necessary.
"That's why I can't help you." Caster knit his brows, and kept his tone natural. "I will not ask Saber to rip his heart out, nor can I do anything for your mother without her soul. Therefore, I am deeply sorry."
Ais's pupils dilated at the news, strength leaving her body as she collapsed onto her knees.
For the longest time, no one spoke as the light died from Ais's eyes.
It was only when the sound of approaching footsteps echoed throughout that many people began giving Ais and the individual who approached her, a wider berth.
Saber had silently drawn near. Many staying clear of him as he still possessed the fragment that had seemingly been corrupting Sieg.
"Child-"
"Don't." Ais said with venom and anguish, knowing who was talking to her. She was crying. "Y-You murdered my father when you could have just cut off the arm holding that cursed thing!"
Saber's lips thinned into a line. How was he supposed to say that the corruption stemmed from Sieg's Dragon form and not the Grail Fragment?
The best he could do was try.
"That was not the intention." Saber gathered his resolve. "What you have to understand is-"
"…You could have done something." Ais slowly turned her head to stare at Saber, her expression hallowed. "You're strong. So strong that you could have just incapacitated him, anything, but you, but you-!"
Saber could see the despair reflected in Ais's eyes. Her world had shattered, and she didn't even know how to go about picking up the pieces.
Admittedly, it had been a mistake to approach Ais so early as she was drowning in grief and bereavement. However, the part of Sieg's experiences that Saber had seen and understood, influenced him more than he'd expected.
The Heart Sieg had returned was also a part of Saber.
The feelings of a father...
Saber had an inexplicable need to console because the heart still remembers.
Saber reached a hand and placed it on Ais's head.
"Ais." Saber said, causing Ais's pupils to constrict as Sieg's image and actions overlaid on top of Saber's.
A memory of the man who carried such awkward warmth that washed away her child self's anxiety and worries.
'Grandfather.'
It was a word Ais would not forget that came from her father's own mouth.
This man. He who bore a striking resemblance in demeanor and swordsmanship to her papa, was family.
And that's why it was even more difficult to stomach.
Murderer!
What sort of father kills their own son?!
As quickly as Ais's pupils dilated, the coldness in her expression grew frigid as she shrugged off Saber's hand, bolted to her feet, and grabbed the plating of Saber's chest armour.
Yes, there was still a way.
"Give back his heart -just give it back!" Ais pounded her fist over Saber's armour. "Its not fair. Give him back! What am I supposed to do now?!"
Saber did not answer, grabbing Ais's hand and pushing her back to calm her head.
It didn't work.
Rather, the silver sword Sieg had dropped was now held tightly in her white-knuckled grip, the banner completely faded away.
Unstable emotion then mixed with vain aspiration and hope.
Caster's explanation could not have been anymore clear. Her mama was dead, but if she could get back her father's heart, Caster could theoretically bring back her dad.
All she had to do was take it.
Beyond how unreasonable it sounded, or whether Caster would agree to her request after she attacked Saber; the answer was all Ais could focus on.
And people in grief did not have rational thoughts.
Ais was swinging her sword before her mind even connected to what her body was doing.
Saber let Ais swing her sword at him. Allowing her to let it all out, but the moment Ais's blade met his skin, there was only the noise of metal as the edge could not pierce.
"…You bastard." Tears spilled down Ais's face, trickling down her cheeks and dripping down her chin. She swung again, and again. "YOU BASTARD!"
Saber just stood in place, sparks grating in the air with each strike. However, his eyes shifted once a tinge of blue mana began to coat Ais's sword. She was now channeling her Falna, veins popping over her temples, her eyes bloodshot.
Standing still no longer, Saber moved, disarming Ais with a tap of his great sword and watching as Ais's weapon clattered beside her.
What he didn't expect was for Ais to throw herself at him, hands reaching for his throat.
Saber didn't bother dodging.
Ais's muscles bulged as she tried to choke him out, but her grip was not strong enough to constrict his airways. Instead, Saber made eye contact with her, only spurring her further with his composed gaze.
The tension between them continued to grow.
One due to Saber's hesitation of how he should act, and two because Ais was not letting go despite knowing the futility of her current actions.
"Ais, enough!"
It wasn't until Finn intervened and pried Ais away from a frowning Saber that the stalemate was broken.
"Calm down. This isn't the time or the place." Finn said sternly, making sure to keep a firm grip on Ais who thrashed and buckled.
Many people had seen Ais intervene in Saber's battle against the One-Eyed Black Dragon, and it wouldn't paint a pretty picture if misunderstandings arose. Loki would have to handle damage control.
Ais clenched her jaw, her shoulders trembling until they stopped completely when Riveria arrived and stared her down.
"Enough," Riveria said, she and Finn on either side of Ais.
Pursing her lips, Ais hung her head low and let herself be escorted away.
Saber let out a long sigh.
"…There," Caster said with a grunt after bandaging Shirou's hand.
What had formerly been a mangled mess had miraculously been set back to something that resembled a hand. Fresh skin was grown over top, and the broken bones and snapped tendons were all in place again.
Opening and closing his hand, Shirou remained seated as Caster grunted at him.
"Reckless as ever. Makes one wonder how you've lived so long." Caster said with a twitching eye. "Stop that. You'll reopen the wound before it can properly set and heal."
"But that's why you're here." Shirou chuckled with a small smile.
"Tch. You sound like the muscle-headed fools on the Argo." Caster scowled, memories of his adventuring days coming to mind along with Jason's antics. More often than not, it was the captain himself who found his way into Caster's medicine room.
"Finish patching him up." Caster muttered to his 'assistant.' "I need to attend to others."
With his piece said, Caster left in order to tend to other injured members of the Raid Party.
"Ahem," Alfia coughed, expression impassive as she grudgingly opened her palm out towards Shirou.
"Thanks." Shirou said as he placed his hand in Alfia's.
Clicking her tongue, Alfia pulled Shirou's hand forward and began wrapping a bandage around hi forearm where remnants of dried blood and burst veins appeared on his skin.
Shirou could have opted Caster to heal those as well, but Shirou was the one who insisted that Caster could spend the time healing others over just him. The wounds would heal on their own, and Shirou was not inexperienced with pain.
He nodded at Alfia as she dutifully did as Caster asked of her, and the show of gratitude had her filled with mixed feelings.
"Hn." Alfia grunted with thin lidded eyes. "You're done, so get out."
Shirou held back a small smile. In some ways, the similarity in character between Alfia and Caster were readily apparent. That or the two were rubbing off on each other.
"Thank you."
"Don't make me repeat myself." Alfia waved Shirou off before moving to follow after Caster.
Getting up onto his feet, Shirou vacated the medical tent to give way for the next patient behind him.
He'd had first priority given the state he was in, and the fact that Hephaestus's gaze lingered on any who opposed the decision.
Caster didn't care either way as his priority had always been his medical research and patient treatment.
Hephaestus had tried to follow Shirou in, but Caster refused, taking patient confidentiality seriously as a professional doctor.
Left to wander on his own, Shirou had much time to dwell over his thoughts and the next step going forward.
It would seem that Berserker had missed the whole raid, but there were plenty of other opportunities for Berserker to leave an impression. What mattered now was handling the fall out of the battle, and the subsequent celebrations of victory.
They had done it.
What had deemed to be impossible had been accomplished. The Third of the Grand Quests had been accomplished. The fame and influence this would give Shirou and the others was no light matter.
No one would have anything to say about Adventurer level or their qualification to explore the Dungeon.
It was finally time to begin the real goal of his arrival to this world.
Deep within the Dungeon was Shirou's promised miracle, and that was all the motivation he needed.
"Shirou!"
A voice jarred Shirou from his thoughts, his eyes twitching as the image he had of a certain Goddess continued to be whittled away by said Goddess's antics in this world.
A cloud of dust and debris was forming as a buxom twin-tailed Goddess came running with wide and misty eyes as if she'd been wronged.
"Hestia?" Shirou said as he reached out and caught her before she could trip from running too fast. "Is there something I can help you with?"
"It's Bell." Hestia wailed, lips pursing as she fiddled with her thumbs. "He's been acting weird for a while now, and I just watched him sneak off again. I don't know what to do. I've asked what was wrong, but he keeps evading the question. I-I think he's going on a rendezvous with some bimbo again."
As if that was the greatest concern?
'Didn't you just have to catch Bell when Saber hurled him away from the battlefield?'
"Ugh," Shirou let out an exasperated noise, but held his composure together.
"Should I just lock him in a basement?" Hestia murmured with dark eyes.
A chill travelled down Shirou's back as he hastily intervened before Hestia could spiral. He had to remember that this wasn't the Hestia he had in his mind and in his history, but an immature Hestia of a new world.
"He may just have something on his mind." Shirou redirected, using truths to calm Hestia down. "I thought I saw him trying to console Ais, but the Loki Familia members told him it wasn't the time before rejecting him."
So, he wasn't with that girl? Hestia's expression sparkled.
"Oh, where did he go from there?" She asked.
Shirou thought about it harder before coming to a definite conclusion. "In the direction of the Zeus Familia."
Hestia sighed in relief, her thoughts moving a mile a minute.
"Mu-oh, Bell I know I let him join to get some experience, but it wasn't an excuse to be reckless and stupid!"
Hestia complained before she took off running.
The Goddess of the Hearth and Family came and went with the wind, leaving Shirou at an utter loss.
Still, there were more important things.
Shirou had noted Saber signalling to him and the others that he had some news to share with them in a private setting, likely about the Grail Sieg had in his possession.
It was certainly an important topic, but one that Shirou would have to postpone until a better opportunity arrived.
His ears perked up, his nose twitching as he began to walk to a more open area.
Now then...
"How long do you plan to just follow me?" Shirou called out, causing the individual who had been tailing him in secret to flinch.
Regardless, the figure didn't care if he was found out or not.
It was a familiar face with a deep shade of red hair above it. One that Shirou had first seen upon visiting the Hephaestus Familia.
Welf Crozzo.
Welf was the blacksmith Shirou had been competing against before Hephaestus had put the matter to an abrupt end.
Shirou hadn't had much interaction with Welf from there, but Welf clearly had a bone to pick.
"I didn't plan on it, but this makes it easer," Welf said with a stern glower. His fists were clenched, and he'd even put aside his pride. "There's something we need to talk about."
Whether Shirou was Hephaestus's son or not, it didn't matter.
Welf just cared for what he saw.
The deep sadness and grief on Hephaestus's face was not something he could pretend to be blind to, and this bastard was the root cause.
"You piece of shit," Welf cussed, veins popping over his temples. "Ever since you appeared, Hephaestus has-Ow what the hell?!"
A fist had smashed overtop Welf's head, followed by a swift arm that snaked around his shoulders and firmly around his neck.
Force was generated next.
"Welf, you dimwit," Tsubaki hissed, placing Welf in a headlock. "Don't butt into personal things."
"Dammit, Tsubaki, you have to see it too!" Welf grimaced, trying to break free.
"Do you think I'm blind?" Tsubaki glowered, irritation bleeding into her tone.
Everyone in the Hephaestus Familia could see it, but it wasn't their business to get involved. It was just difficult because Hephaestus was under constant stress and anxiety. There was something Hephaestus wasn't telling them about her relationship with Shirou, and it was eating at her.
"Besides, you weren't so subtle." Tsubaki whispered sharply, twisting Welf's head to stare behind them. "You weren't the only one who followed. I'm only here because they followed you, and I know about your short temper."
Welf's expression hardened when took sight of who Tsubaki was referring to.
They were the other members of the Crozzo family.
Welf grew visibly irate at their appearance. Fancy that, they arrive to cajole Shirou when Hephaestus was not around. Bunch of sleaze bags they all were. Of course, the irony was not lost on Welf that he also sought Shirou out when Hephaestus was not around, but this and that were different.
Welf did it out of concern, but they did it for their own motives.
Tsubaki released Welf, and together they stood with Shirou.
Conflicting opinions or not, the Hephaestus Familia already considered Shirou one of their own.
"Back off you bastards," Welf glowered, a hand moving to his sheathed sword by his waist.
Tsubaki grabbed Welf's wrist and shook her head. Animosity here would only increase tensions with Ares, the Crozzos, and Welf.
"That's not for you to decide, now is it, young nephew?" The older man who spoke was a Crozzo with aged features and a rugged body forged from hammering steel.
The older man ignored Welf and Tsubaki and directly moved to introduce himself to Shirou who stared in silence.
"My name is Josef Crozzo," the older man introduced, offering Shirou a hand.
Shirou eyed the outstretched hand before slowly shaking it out of politeness.
"Shirou," Shirou replied.
"It's an honour to make your acquaintance," Josef said with a wide smile, much to Welf's disgust. "More importantly, I was hoping we could discuss an arrangement between you and the Crozzo family. Word will surely spread of this Raid's success and your name will resound throughout the world. But it could be more than that! You won't be disappointed in a joint cooperation with us, I assure you. Not only will we grant you unlimited access to our family's forge, but you'd have the full support of the King and the admiration of all blacksmiths! All you need to do is agree."
Shirou glanced from Josef, then to Welf and Tsubaki who were frowning heavily.
The proposition was steepled with ambitions and ulterior motive.
"Think about it," Josef insisted, the other members of the Crozzo family with him, echoing the sentiment.
What was in their eyes was greed, avarice, and ambition.
"Think of what you can do, and what you can bring?!" Josef continued his tirade, excitement breaking through his façade of negotiation.
What Shirou had done, and what the Crozzos had seen was a means to create magic weapons at Shirou's beck and call.
What the Crozzos sought to gain was not how Shirou could create weapons out of thin air, as it was likely from a skill, but the opportunity to study said weapons and gleam insights from them. The chance of a breakthrough was high.
Moreover, Shirou would be an asset that Ares would certainly consider a treasure of the highest calibre as a God of War.
"Your presence in war itself would change the battlefield!" Josef stepped forward, carefully taking Shirou's hand and shaking it firmly.
A shadow suddenly befell the area, the others behind Josef Crozzo going mute. However, Josef himself was too absorbed to notice.
"What you are is like a finally crafted weapon, a blacksmith's master piece!"
That statement hit far closer to home for a certain individual than she'd ever like to admit.
But it wasn't just a master piece.
It was huma-
"An ultimate weapon and tool of war-"
"Say that again, I dare you."
Josef froze at the sheer venom in the tone. Stiffly, he turned around and stared face to face with a God.
Hephaestus's glare had never looked so smoldering.
Born an Amazon Queen, Penthesilea had differentiated herself from her fellow sisters from a young age. Raised to be the best, and knowing that she was the best had instilled an unshakable feeling of pride as a warrior deep into her bones.
It was never others helping her, it was her helping others in the tribe.
Feeling her hair matt over her forehead from cold sweats, Penthesilea felt her heart doing funny things as Rider gradually set her back on the ground in front of her retinue of Amazons.
His movements were all too natural, and the way she seemed used to them, more so.
She'd acknowledged Rider as a Warrior, and did not feel anything wrong in her actions.
But the funny way her fellow sisters were staring at her, and then at Rider left little room for the imagination, yet Penthesilea was oblivious.
And no, it wasn't because she was slow or stupid, but because her mind was pre-occupied with a more pressing matter.
"I didn't need your help." Penthesilea tried to clarify. She continued to remain stubborn, even as the cold sweat, she'd felt from the heat of the Dragon's Breath caused her hairs to rise.
If Rider hadn't helped, she truly would have died along with the group of fellow Amazons who had ventured too deeply into enemy territory.
"I know because you're a strong warrior. The strongest woman of all of Amazonia." Rider said as if it were a fact.
Penthesilea opened and closed her mouth. At first, she thought the bastard was patronizing her, but there was no doubt or hesitation on Rider's expression. He truly meant it.
The tips of her cheeks colored as Penthesilea subconsciously tried to brush a hand over the bridge of her nose, only to remember that she was wearing a helmet and couldn't.
"Good that you understand," Penthesilea huffed and glanced away, choosing to focus on re-wrapping the chains of her spiked iron balls around her thighs. "I would have just dug underground at the last moment if I had to."
Rider chuckled, earning a flat stare, but it only made him laugh harder. "You would do something like that, wouldn't you?"
Because the Penthesilea Rider knew really would do that.
"As long as you know it." Penthesilea crossed her arms, and then held her hand out to Rider while unable to meet his gaze.
"Thanks." She repeated again.
Rider looked to Penthesilea's hand, then to her face before simply nodding and clasping her hand in his with a firm shake.
"Warriors do not leave allies behind, right?" Rider said.
Slowly, Penthesilea nodded. "An ally of the Amazons is never abandoned."
"…"
It was a fact Rider knew all too as the Amazons had fought in the battle of Troy for their ally in Paris and his family.
"Then I'll be off," Rider said, narrowing his eyes to a small commotion occurring in the distant Raid party.
With the Raid successful, Penthesilea and the Amazons had no reason to stick around with the group. The tribe of warrior woman were likely itching to spread the story of their conquest in Amazonia instead.
However, not everyone was of the same mind.
"…I still haven't won our duel," Penthesilea spoke up.
"Then challenge me whenever you wish," Rider said while getting back into his chariot. "I'll be waiting in the Dungeon City of Orario."
Rider whipped his reins, his horses neighing as the divine steeds took to the skies.
Penthesilea shielded her face from the wind, the coattails of her armour flapping violently behind her.
The Dungeon city huh?
Penthesilea began brooding in earnest.
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