Fate/Apocrypha Volume 1 Chapter 3.2

And so, Ruler headed straight to the airport via the night bus and took off for Bucharest, Romania. If she can only turn into Spirit Form … but it seems that is also impossible for her. Left with no choice, she had to use her own money – or rather, Laeticia's – to buy a plane ticket. Perhaps I should make a request to the Church or the Association later, she thought, becoming somewhat gloomy.

On the plane, she sorted through the knowledge that she had been granted. She understood the place that would become the battlefield – the small city of Trifas in Romania. It is the Second Owner of that land, the Yggdmillennia, which arranged for this Great War. Standing against them are magi from the Clock Tower, which the Yggdmillennia seceded from. But the problem with the current situation is that it is not a free-for-all between seven Servants but a conflict of an unprecedented scale between two sides of seven.

It is hardly rare for a duel to the death between single Servants to leave surrounding buildings crushed in its aftermath. And this is seven against seven … It is unnerving just to think about the kind of widespread destruction that a full confrontation between the two sides will bring about.

Is the scale of this conflict the reason why she was summoned as Ruler? Was she called by the Greater Grail, fearing the threat of an utter collapse in the Holy Grail War?

She does not know… and now is not the time to speculate.

First, she must reach Trifas – everything starts there.

It took her a day and a half to reach the Henri Coandă International Airport in Bucharest, including transfer and waiting times. It is just past noon – thick, black-gray clouds filled the sullen sky, as though it were on the verge of tears.

Although she had been granted knowledge of this airport, built with the newest construction techniques, it still came across as novel to her.

Her legs felt heavy, probably because she has been sitting the whole time. During the long air journey, she spent half her time thinking about the Great War, and used the other half praying for a safe journey. Thanks to her knowledge as a Servant, she fully understands what kind of transport a plane is. But that is different from actually going inside one. The fact is, she did not want to understand why this mass of metal can fly through the air… In truth, she was simply glad that they did not fall out of the sky.

The sight of such a defenceless-looking girl tottering about with a bag in her hands must seem like the easiest mark in the world to the low-lifes that hang around the airport… but it never even occurred to them to lay a hand on her. They were not so unruly as to drag mud into a pure pond.

Trifas lays to the north-east. She will have to use some form of transportation to get there, either taking a bus or hitchhiking…

"…Hmph."

The instant she stepped out of the airport, multiple lines of sight pierced Ruler.

However, she can detect no Servants within the limits of the detection boundary centred around her – a radius of ten kilometers.

Ruler can nullify even the Presence Concealment skill of Assassins. If she cannot sense any powerful detection abilities despite feeling others' gaze…

"…then it must be remote viewing, or familiars."

Generally, there are two methods where thaumaturgy can allow one to see far-off things. The first is remote viewing – using a crystal ball, a mirror or such to observe a distant location. As long as there is some form of medium you can observe the outside even from the safety of your own workshop. Hence, most magi have mastery of this type of thaumaturgy.

The other is by using a familiar – creating a pseudo-living being by modifying a small animal or organism. By joining the causal lines between master and familiar, one can share its five senses. This is also considered a basic type of thaumaturgy for most magi.

Scanning the grey skies, Ruler noticed innumerable doves looking at her direction. It would seem that they are familiars – but, try as she might, she could not see the light of intelligence in their eyes. Normally, by being granted the hair or blood of a magus, the creature that becomes a familiar gains a degree of intelligence. While it cannot quite speak, its intellect should be quite detectable.

Yet they look for all the world like simple doves, though it is unmistakable that they are observing her. Are they being controlled by hypnotic suggestions? That would be quite a roundabout method.

Ruler glared, first at the direction from which she is being observed from, then at the doves. Her gaze did not contain any sort of prana or power, but it made clear her thoughts.

The sensation of being observed disappeared, and the doves all flew off at once. Ruler sighed when she confirmed this.

In essence, a Ruler does not take part in the Holy Grail War… However, as the position demands that it brings judgment upon Servants and Masters that violate rules, a fitting amount of combat strength is required.

Not many have experienced the Holy Grail War twice or thrice and even amongst those, it is doubtful that any has ever taken part in one where a Ruler manifested. Perhaps they wanted to measure the power of such a Servant.

"More and more, it seems this war will require some difficult judgment on my part…"

This Great War presents only one great point in favor of Ruler – the fourteen Servants are evenly divided into two camps, Noir and Rouge. In other words, it avoids a scenario where fourteen Servants are all acting independently. It is nightmarish enough just imagining all those Servants rampaging about at will – at worst, they can destroy the entire city.

"Whatever the case, I must first head to Trifas…"

Murmuring to herself, Ruler started looking for a bus, only to find that none headed directly to Trifas. She will have to head to Sighișoara first and proceed from there. But it turns out that there will not be a bus to Sighișoara until tomorrow. Left with no choice, Ruler asked around to see if there was anyone heading to Trifas. In the end, a lean old man wearing glasses and a deerstalker said that he could bring her along.

"Yes, I'm heading to Trifas myself."

"So, can you…?"

"But Trifas isn't really a tourist spot, you know. They've got that great big castle – but, funnily enough, it's private ground and off limits. Sighișoara is much better if you're interested in the history, being the birthplace of Vlad Țepeș and all…"

"I have some relatives waiting for me in Trifas. Could you please help?"

"Well, all right, if that's the case. But I've got some fragile cargo that I have to keep in the passenger seat, so that's no good. You don't mind sitting on the bed, do you?"

"Not at all. Thank you for your generosity."

"Just pray to your God that it doesn't rain."

The old man laughed as she clambered onto the back of the truck.

"Yes, I shall do that."

Ruler replied in earnest. Certainly, she can do little but pray when it comes to the weather.

After a series of banging noises, like what one would get from kicking an empty metal barrel, the truck settled and began to move. As it the truck rumbled on, Ruler watched scenes of Bucharest pass by.

The truck shook with a thud. Some black smoke began leaking out of the muffler.

"Yes… quite different from a horse."

There is a certain difference between the organic tremors of a horse and the repetitive shaking of a machine – perhaps, in exchange for speed and durability, they had to trade away a sense of comfort. She recalled the white horse that had once crossed the fields of battle with her. A good steed… but it went missing during the battle of Compiègne. Most likely it was killed, but perhaps it managed to find a new rider.

As the truck slowly picked up speed, several of the wooden crates it carried in the back began to wobble. Surprisingly, the truck is moving at the same speed as a horse now – but it is probably because this truck itself is below average in terms of performance. If it were a horse, it would be close to retirement.

Of course, most unlike a horse, a car does not run out of breath midway. The truck is moving towards Trifas at a slow but steady pace.

"Excuse me, sir. How long will it take to reach Trifas?"

Ruler called out to the humming old man in the driver's seat.

"Hmm… at this rate, it'll probably be twelve hours."

"Will it take that long?"

"Well, we have to stop for a rest at some point."

"I see… That will have to do, then."

Ruler felt somewhat disheartened but, on a whim, decided to take out a textbook from her bag.

"To think that a simple farmhand like myself would have a chance to be educated… What a wonderful world it has become."

However, while the Holy Grail had bestowed upon her the knowledge she needed to survive in the modern world, it did not go so far as to teach her the contents of this book. In other words, Ruler only knew as much as the girl she was possessed.

"…Je n'ai aucune idée."

Ruler began with the maths textbook, as a sense of foreboding for the tribulations to come filled her.

***

The Transylvanian Motorway is the only national highway that can reach Trifas, which is not present even on the train network. Barely any vehicles head towards the 'last stop' that is Trifas. Over half of the traffic lights lining both sides of the road are damaged. Even the government has pre-emptively decided to cut back on the budget here, probably due to the lack of complaint from drivers.

The dim moonlight fails to steadily shine on the road and the signs. Under the circumstances, only the feeling of asphalt can readily tell you if you are driving along the right path at all.

…According to the doves' reports, Ruler has decided – for some reason – to hitchhike to Trifas, without even going into spirit form.

He does not need to track her down – only lie in wait for her transport to eventually pass through. That is why the Lancer of the Red has been waiting on the motorway in physical form, ready to carry out his orders.

To Lancer, there is no such thing as 'liking' or 'disliking' an order that has been given. He will even avoid considering how said order relates to the current situation. The fact that he serves the Master who summoned him is of utmost importance.

But even he has some slight misgivings regarding his current order. He has been tasked, not to kill an enemy Master or an enemy Servant, or even devour innocent civilians to replenish prana – but to obliterate Ruler, the fifteenth Servant who has been tasked to preside this war. He had no choice but to accept his Master's instructions.

In the first place, Servants of the Ruler class are not supposed to support one side or the other. They simply call attention to the breaching of rules and hand out punishment, in order to prevent situations where the Holy Grail war itself would become undone.

It is likely that Ruler has been marked for elimination in order to avoid later penalization for some form of rule-breaking… but it is too hasty a decision if that is the case. Yet he can find no other reason for his task.

In any case, orders are orders and Lancer is not one to raise objections. Rather, such thoughts have already been removed from his mind.

Once ordered to kill – he needs only to carry out his massacre without any mercy.

A single dove landed on his shoulder and hurriedly flew off once he pulled the piece of paper from its beak. It must have been a familiar of Assassin.

As much as the Caster of the Red camp is a unique Servant, Red Assassin is certainly no less of a maverick. Despite taking form as an Assassin, the Queen of Assyria possesses the incredibly rare skill of being a Double Summon and can function as a Caster as well. Thus, Assassin can fulfil the role of Caster where Caster himself fails to do so.

"…Hmph."

The message is truly concise – with only a vehicle type and the license number on the plate. That is more than enough for him to converge on the target.

Lancer sat down on top of a giant sign on the motorway, throwing one leg out and waiting for Ruler's approach. Truthfully, he knows next to nothing about what kind of Servant his target, in fact, is. The Greater Grail has probably secured all information regarding Ruler.

Servant Ruler is chosen by the Greater Grail to take up the duty of controlling the Holy Grail War. Somewhat like an overseer, a Ruler can impose penalties for those who involve outsiders in the conflict. However, this power is insignificant compared to that possessed by the overseer, an actual human. More important is that Ruler possesses a 'privilege' befitting her role as solitary controller of the entire Holy Grail War. Bringing a Ruler down would be a most difficult undertaking – all the more reason why such a Servant would be worth fighting.

In the distance, Lancer can see the faint headlights of a car.

She had dozed off for three hours during the trip. The truck carrying Ruler is finally beginning to approach Trifas when Ruler detects a Servant some kilometers ahead of them.

In an instant, the alarm in her mind was raised.

He is a danger! That Servant is dangerous beyond compare!

"Stop the car here!"

Said Ruler to the old man, forcing the truck to stop.

"What're you…"

"Please wait until morning before driving again. It's all right, I will walk from here."

After making the frowning man understand and parting with him, the girl grabbed her bag and ran ahead at full speed. Perhaps a boundary field preventing the entry of others has already been erected – after advancing several kilometers, she cannot even sense the presence of any animals, let alone cars.

Putting her bag down, she immediately transformed into her battle-dress proper. Armor woven from prana enclosed her. The situation may be more critical than she imagined – enough to instil the will to fight in Ruler.

"…Servant Ruler, I take it."

A voice came from above her. Looking up, what she saw was a young man waiting for her, kneeling on one knee atop a giant motorway sign.

His hair is long, unkempt and so white that it appears transparent. His gaze is sharp like a steel blade, and the red stone buried in his exposed chest similarly projects an enthralling lustrousness. But what draws the eye more than anything else is what is wrapped around – or rather, has become fused with – his entire body: a set of golden armor that gives off a divine radiance.

While every single part is beautiful in its own right, once combined with the man, they exuded far more ferocity than they did attractiveness. Truly, what a curious man.

Ruler watched him without lowering her guard in the slightest, and said.

"You are… the Lancer of the Red, yes?"

"Oh? So you can perceive such things without even seeing my weapon."

Sounding rather intrigued, the man – Lancer – nodded.

"Of course. And I know your true name as well – Heroic Spirit Karna."

"…"

It seems the name was enough to make Lancer stand up.

Karna is well known as the invincible hero of the Mahābhārata, an ancient Indian epic. Brought into the world by the Sun God Surya and the human woman Kunti, he was bestowed with a set of golden armor as confirmation of his heritage. Karna was born to become a great hero.

"I see… Yes, it is beyond doubt that you are Ruler. That you can perceive my true name when I have yet to draw my spear is proof of that."

"That's right. So, Lancer, what are you doing here?"

"…It is unwise to ask of matters you have already fully grasped. My presence here speaks for itself – it is clearly a declaration of war."

Although she was already certain that this was the case, it still depressed Ruler to hear it being made explicit.

"No, it is you and your Master who are unwise. What can come of killing me at this stage?"

"I do not know."

Lancer's brief reply utterly rejects all attempts at communication. He continued.

"But it is commanded of me that you die here. That is all – I act simply according to the contract."

Instantly, a bluish-white light seemed to penetrate through Lancer's right hand. However, he is only bringing form to the object that should have been there to begin with.

It is a massive spear, far longer than the man himself is tall. The spear is so enormous that it does not seem possible for a human to wield, and of such exquisite appearance that it is practically a work of art. It can only be described as a weapon granted by the Gods.

"Lancer…!"

"Here I come. Unfortunately, given your 'privilege' as Ruler, I cannot afford to underestimate you. Let my first strike decide our duel."

Ruler's eyes widened as his prana immediately surged – Lancer plans not to exchange blows but to definitively release the true name of his Noble Phantasm. It will act before she can exercise her 'privilege'…!

"Kuh…!"

Bracing herself, she summoned her weapon, the standard… and at the same time, sensed the presence of a second Servant.