Camp (156) (Patreon)

Fortunately for Cu Chulainn, the Berserker of a Nurse couldn’t chase him indefinitely, hopefully. Unfortunately for Cu Chulainn, the chase lasted long enough for him, lacking the stamina reserves of his alternate versions, to be completely exhausted. Enough so, in fact, that he almost mentally promised to himself, to never again go into lonely, suspicious places alone with girls. Almost, that is, taking that promise back immediately before instantly making another. That, before going anywhere with them, to always ask them about their class. Even if they were offended, it would probably still be much better than having to hide from them for hours later.

He was almost tempted to even make a geas out of it.

However, after finally making sure that the insane Berserker had left him alone — Cu Chulainn was finally able to breathe easily as he took a look at his surroundings. Though, an ‘insane’ Berserker is quite the tautology, isn’t it? Given that being in the Berserker class, the insanity is already implied.

Anyway, as he looked at his surroundings, it didn’t take long for him to realize that he had run so far as to leave the entire encampment entirely. In fact, there was nothing but the scorched desert all around him.

With a shrug, Cu started jogging his way back to the camp. A camp that he had distanced himself quite a bit, fleeing in the most noble gentlemanly way from the girl. Indeed, he could not pick a fight with a girl, no? It just wasn’t done. Really! Cu Chulainn's reason for fleeing was definitely his nobility and nothing else.

In the end, though, after a few hours, yes, it seems that in his haste he had managed to get quite a distance from the camp, he had managed to return.

Not without some difficulty, though.

By the time that he had started his journey back to the camp, the sun was already starting to set, fully setting when he had reached the location where the camp was. If he hadn’t seen a flickering of light illuminating the small camp of tents in harsh shadows, he would probably get lost in the pitch-black desert.

It literally screamed ‘trap’, or some sort of start to a horror story.

The sight made Cu Chulainn hesitate for a moment, before he could see the figures around the fire.

Even with only her silhouette, Nero was still very distinct, even some alternate form of her. She was sitting by the fire on chairs alongside two other figures that Cu would guess were also Servants, though not ones that he had seen before.

Hmm, actually, come to think of it, Cu Chulainn wondered what he would do if he were to meet an alternate version of him. Say for example meeting his Lancer self, how would he react to that? How would the ‘Lancer’ him, react? Hmm, didn’t Scáthach mention something about that?

Then again, they’ll probably just pick a fight against each other. If the Nero in Chaldea were to meet this one though… Jeez, he was shivering just thinking about it, and it’s not all because of the cold desert.

Cu Chulainn was afraid of the madness that might result from two Nero being in the same place at the same time.

Shaking his head to put the scary image out of his head, Cu Chulainn approached the fire, making two of the three Servants around the fire to tense for a second at his approach. Evidently, Nero must have said or done something as they calmed down when she noticed that it was him. Something which is just great, a battle-lover he might be, but after being chased by that crazy nurse, he was just not in the mood.

Walking closer, Cu could finally see the figure of the newcomers… Although, from the perspective of the Servants of the camp, it would be Cu Chulainn himself that falls under the umbrella of ‘newcomers’.

Regardless, as he moved a little closer to the fire he still took a careful look at the new Servants, and Nero again as well, Cu Chulainn tried to determine the identities of the Servants in front of him.

Nero… Well, yeah, there was no need to guess there. Her snow-white dress/leotard combo was still unchanged and still shed no light on her class. At least he was somewhat familiar with the ‘Saber’ Nero, so he could at least put her class to the back of his mind.

Though, what Nero was doing in the middle of a tent camp, in front of a bonfire, sitting next to the other two Servants around the fire, Cu Chulainn could not imagine.

Although, given that it was Nero, most likely her reason was something stupid like ‘Sitting in front of a big campfire is so beautiful and romantic, I want to umu~!’ and that would be it.

The other Servants, on the other hand…

The first to catch Cu Chulainn's eye was a young, handsome boy, with short blond hair and a slight half-smile that did not disappear even as he reached for his gun. That, and he was dressed in what was virtually impossible to call anything other than cowboy clothes, leather boots, a cowboy hat, a light jacket and a scarf wrapped around his neck, easily transformed into a mask if necessary. Ha, to complete the ensemble even more, he was sporting quite an ordinary revolver on his belt! If he didn’t know any better, he would have guessed that he was just a local, recruited by the Servants.

If it weren't for the identifiable, though not strong, sense of a Servant emanating from the guy, he basically blends into the background! Maybe not so much with the nuclear-fallout laden wasteland… though for some reason, it still actually fits?

The second, unlike the first guy, looked alien to the current place, no more alien than Nero in a white dress or Cu Chulainn himself in fur robes though. He’s a short guy, actually pretty much a boy, with his androgynous appearance and long red hair gathered in a long ponytail, at least he’s wearing armor, wait… hell, no, that is clearly a corset! Seriously, it was a corset, with bare shoulders and even a chest cutout! Shallow and covered by something that could only be called an ‘embellished piece of fabric’ he’s even wearing a skirt!

I mean, of course, there were men's skirts in various cultures, his own Celtic roots as an example. Well, he was wearing pants with it… but given his androgynous appearance… Maybe it wasn't a ‘him’ after all, but a ‘her’?

Still Cu Chulainn shouldn't stare at the Servants for too long, they might think he’s some kind of pervert or something, forcing himself to approach them and interact with Nero as the only Servant he knew of the three.

“It's been a long time since Florence started chasing you! Where have you been?” Nero smiled at him, “You even missed out on our scouts returning from their mission!”

“Thank you, Saber, that's very thoughtful of you to tell a stranger about our secret mission. It’s not like it’s supposed to be a secret or anything.” The androgynous boy said in a high-pitched voice, and then glanced at Cu Chulainn. Damn, even his voice was confusing too!

“Meh, no need to worry much, Saber,” The young guy in a cowboy outfit smiled at his colleague's complaint. “Any man Florence chased but didn't kill, automatically becomes our faithful comrade!”

After these words, without rising from his seat, the guy in the cowboy hat held out his hand to Cu Chulainn, which the latter shook. “Henry Antrim.”

“Cu Chulainn,” Deciding not to make any secret of his identity, Cu Chulainn held out his hand in response. All the more so, considering Nero’s here, they clearly already knew his identity.

Cu Chulainn also thought for a moment, trying to remember where he might have heard the name ‘Henry Antrim’ before, and it didn’t ring any bells.  He’s still a Servant, though not the strongest, and judging by his appearance, his legend is very recent by Servant standards, but he still could not remember such a name.

“Saber,” The other lad replied, or was it a girl? Also held out his hand.

Huh, apparently he had decided to keep his name a secret after all. Of course, Cu Chulainn wouldn't have wanted such a thing, but on the other hand, some distrust on the part of new acquaintances was also logical.

“And I’m Nero! The Most Beautiful, Emperor of All Rome, All People On Earth, All Stars In The Sky, All Wishes In The World and, and… ”  Then Nero, apparently having decided to introduce herself to Cu Chulainn for some reason, started listing out titles, struggling to add more and more ostentatious titles. Seeing the girl struggling to think of one, Cu decided to cut through the chase and just introduced himself. “Cu Chulainn.”

“Umu!” Seeing the actions as it is, saving her from her own confusion, Nero nodded graciously at his action, accepting his handshake, then gestured to an empty seat opposite her at the fire.

Cu Chulainn, with nothing else to do, shrugged his shoulders and decided to take the offer. Without Nobunaga or Scáthach around… also that crazy nurse, Florence, he supposed that he can relax for a few minutes.

There was a slight awkwardness for a moment, as whatever the other Servants were discussing, the appearance of Cu Chulainn, virtually out of nowhere, obviously interrupted the discussion. Still, the guy that had introduced himself as ‘Henry’, took the initiative to start a conversation. “So, you're our second ally? Or, uh, third, considering your Master?”

He was clearly referring to Nobunaga and him, and it was only logical from the Servant's point of view to have doubts about a Master's fighting ability. Masters normally don't join in on a Servant’s battle. Normally that is, Ainz is the furthest thing from ‘normal’. Still, he’s not going to give out any unnecessary information. “Honestly, we're just trying to figure out what's going on in this world and see if we can put an end to it. So, if our goals align, then I guess yes, we're allies.”

“To answer your first question, isn’t it obvious what's going on in the world? Everything is clear enough as it is.” The red-haired Saber cut into the conversation with an expression that combined the rolling of eyes of a tired adult and the disgruntled grimace of a schoolboy. “An egomaniac and a simple maniac did not agree in their views on state management, which led to a nuclear apocalypse. The solution to the problem is also very simple in its essence. We just have to deal with both of them. Of course, easier said than done.”

For a second, Cu Chulainn wondered if he should tell a joke. Something like ‘no need to worry! Why? Because I'm here now!’. But, judging by the expression on his face and the tone of Saber's voice, that joke might not be taken well at all.

However, before the situation could become awkward as Cu tried his best to choose the best response, the situation was saved by Nero’s intervention. “Well, those things don’t really matter! Cause now we have allies ~ umu!”

At Nero’s words, Saber could only sigh before shaking his head. “I suppose so.”

“Well, well, Saber, what's with that pessimism in your voice?” Henry shot a friendly glance at Saber before looking at Cu Chulainn. “It's Cu Chulainn himself! With him on our side, you might say that the situation is already improving drastically!”

Cu Chulainn, hearing the unbridled praise, let the remark pass his ears, focused on something that is much more important. That is, Saber’s actual gender.

Ha, judging by his somewhat prickly attitude, asking him something as direct as ‘speaking of which, are you a man or a woman?’ is likely going to incur a very negative reaction.

“Ah, that’s right!” Nero then drew her attention to herself, as usual, perhaps. “Cu! Apparently you guys have met me before ~ umu! So, the other me! Tell me about me!”

Huh, ‘tell me about me’? It would have sounded strange coming out of any other Servant’s mouth, but somehow, with Nero, it sounded natural and right. Ha, Cu Chulainn could even imagine the Nero in Chaldea asking exactly the same thing if she were to know about them encountering another version of her.

“Well, in Chaldea… Uh, that’s the name of the place where we’re from. There's another Nero, She’s a Saber.” Cu Chulainn smiled, remembering the exuberant Servant. “And you look just like her.”

“Of course, I'm a Saber too ~ umu! The best Class!” Nero frowned. “Wait, if we’re both Sabers, then what's the difference between us?!”

‘That's what I'd like to know too,’ Cu Chulainn thought in his own head, before saying something else entirely aloud. “You're more… beautiful, yes.”

“Whatever my version is the best, it's only natural, I'm the Emperor of Rome! Of course, we’re just perfect!” Nero, absolutely satisfied with Cu’s answer, literally puffed up with pride. “But it's only natural that I will be the most best!”

Ignoring the grammar butchery, Cu Chulainn immediately found Henry and Saber looking at him disapprovingly… Though, of course, it was to be expected, given Nero's personality, it was just like he had just fed a child a rather cheap flattery, but… Hmm, a little flattery to a beautiful girl, what bad thing ever came of that?

“So ‘Chaldea’ huh?” Henry, though, after a few seconds of silence, asked Cu Chulainn a question. “What is it exactly?”

“It's, uh, supposed to be a scientific institute, I think?” Cu Chulainn shrugged, seeing nothing special in revealing this information. “Though nowadays it has been turned into a humanity-saving base. It's a nice place, if you weigh the pros and cons. It’s also a place for a Servant to rest and relax, but there’s really nothing much else to do, so some people get stressed because of it. Well, for me personally, it's the perfect place, since you can drink and sleep all day.”

He was about to share some tales about the drinks and parties he had, before realizing that his teacher was somewhere around, shutting up immediately. The Witch of Dun Scaith regarded laziness with great prejudice, so Cu Chulainn reflexively started looking around, checking to see if she was near, “Though, don’t tell Scáthach about that.”

“Absolutely.” Henry grinned in agreement, leaning back in his folding chair for a moment before he lowered his gaze to stare into the fire. “Ha, spending the day sleeping and drinking…  Sounds like a posh life.”

“Sounds like a fast way to become a slovenly slob.” The pick-haired Saber rolled his eyes at these words. “There's nothing wrong with rest, but only when it's moderate…”

“And about this Nero in Chaldea, does she look like me? Is there something that is distinct between the two of us?” Ignoring the new topic of conversation, Nero asked the only thing she was interested in, things about her.

“She wears a red dress.” After a few seconds of thinking, and finding nothing really marking the two apart, Cu Chulainn decided to go for something simple.

“Umu!?” As it turned out, this detail was a very important distinction for Nero. “What, she doesn't want to get married?!”

Cu Chulainn blinked at the strange reaction before something clicked in his head.

Of course, the white dress! Ha, yes, it certainly seemed even somewhat logical for Nero to be that eccentric. Trying to find her love being a Servant, what else could one expect from her?

For a second, Cu Chulainn even considered making another attempt to flirt, before he was cut off by Henry.

“But Nero, if you fend off all attempts at flirting, how will you know who exactly is your destined one?” Henry asked a question that instantly interested Cu Chulainn as well.

“I will feel it!” Nero replied in the same confident and impenetrable manner as she always does, before glancing at Saber. “You, Saber, how did you find your wife?”

“It was, um…” Saber thought for a moment, then an expression of surprise appeared on his face. “Huh, I guess you're right. In a way, it was really fate…”

After that, Nero clearly wanted to ask another question, but Saber suddenly rose from his seat, shaking his head. “Well, whatever it is, I know that it's already late, and it's time for bed.”

With that last parting shot, Saber headed off somewhere, probably toward his tent. So Cu Chulainn, who remained with the other two Servants, turned his attention to them.

Nero, after a second, tried to rise from her seat, with the obvious intention of following after Saber, but was stopped by Henry's hand placed on her shoulder. Nero then turned around towards Henry, only to see him shake his head slightly from side to side. “Leave him for a time.”

Looking at Henry’s expression and glancing after Saber’s back, Nero only exhaled and slowly sat back in her seat, staring silently into the burning fire in front of her.

Cu Chulainn was confused by the strange interaction, but with nothing to go on, he simply remained silent. Whatever it is, Cu could see that Nero's usually sparkling smile had faded.

***

Together with Tesla and Medea, Oda Nobunaga also received information that Ainz had already figured out the current situation and that she shouldn't have changed her plan of action in any way. But unlike the other Servants, she didn't bother to dig deeper into Ainz's secret plan or try to analyze it. After all, if there is already a plan, Nobunaga should just carry out her current mission and there’s no need to change anything… Well, she’s just going to enjoy herself!

Huh, that’s weird… In the past, if Nobunaga had found herself in the same situation as she’s in right now, she would clearly have demanded that her Master tell her all the details of the plan. After which, she would very likely have tried to interfere or even tried to change the plan to suit her needs. But now… Huh, Ainz really has a knack for convincing people to change their minds.

Besides, if Nobunaga wanted to one day prove her independence and worthiness as a commander, King and conqueror, then she should understand not only what it was like to give orders, but also what it was like to follow orders.

That's why after Cu Chulainn fled to escape Florence, and Nobunaga had received that information from Ainz, she was quite confused on what to do. It's not like she had a definite plan of action even before Ainz had contacted her. I mean, she was probably just supposed to join Scáthach’s faction as an ally… Huh.

Could this be considered another training, another test? After all, Ainz had given her orders to ‘act on the situation’ according to her own will. Meaning, that at the same time he was also testing what plan she could create on the fly and how exactly would she behave in the circumstances she’s in, where she’s left to her own devices? Examined whether she had changed since the last, um, ‘conversation’ he had with her?

In any case, it couldn't be said that the Servants' temporary camp offered much in the way of services or things to occupy her time. What’s more, Scáthach was clearly not eager to attack immediately after Nobunaga and Cu Chulainn had just joined her forces. So, after spending about half an hour studying the local situation, Nobunaga had to admit that she had no idea what she was supposed to do… Not in terms of strategic decisions, but in terms of what to do with her free time.

Her attempts to start a conversation with Nero, who did not make a very favorable impression on Nobunaga during her brief acquaintance, also remained without any progress. To be exact, Nero tried many times to start some kind of dialogue with her, but Nobunaga sincerely could not think of a suitable topic of conversation. They could not talk about singing and dresses, could they?

If it weren’t for the appearance of new faces on the doorstep of the camp, new to Nobunaga at least, who had just returned from reconnaissance, Nobunaga would not even know what to do with her time.

Of course not that she cared really, what’s more important is that Scáthach is back, and so Nobunaga had found something to spend her time on.

“Not bad,” Nobunaga wiped the blood from her shattered lip with the back of her hand and grinned as she watched Scáthach breathe heavily, resting her red spear in the ground.

“It's just a warm-up,” Scáthach herself, however, only shook her head and looked into Nobunaga's eyes, clearly planning another attack through the hundreds and hundreds of guns created by Nobunaga's magic.

How were the scouts and Nobunaga and Scáthach's current battle connected? Simple, Scáthach was busy sorting out the information from the scouts. Nobunaga, who spotted her, started a dialogue that quickly turned into passive-aggressive sniping between them. So Nobunaga, who had nothing to do, and Scáthach, who was stressed from desk work, inflamed the tension into an actual battle.

Not to the death, but it was still hard to call it a spar either.

And, regarding the question of how Nobunaga could keep fighting for hours? The answer was simple, Ainz. Scáthach, who had withstood more than one or even ten rounds of battle with Nobunaga who effectively had infinite Mana, deserved at least recognition for her abilities in Nobunaga's eyes.

“The sun is already setting.” A third voice, however, intervened in the ongoing battle. “I think that's enough fighting for today.”

Nobunaga, on the one hand, did not want to give up, admitting defeat. But on the other hand, even with Ainz's support easily removing any physical fatigue and mana depletion, a certain mental fatigue had managed to accumulate. And so, ending the battle at this point without any definite result suited her.

Scáthach was probably thinking along similar lines as well, nodding at the newcomer’s words before glaring at Nobunaga, who shifted her gaze to the other Servant beside them.

The newcomer, Caster, was a Native American wearing battle paint on his face, wearing a headband adorned with eagle feathers with his hair in intertwined braids. He was bare chested, dressed only in pants, with a good combat knife in a sheath resting on his belt. Apparently the dagger was something that was entirely inappropriate for his class of Caster, according to the Servant at least.

Nobunaga had noticed his presence much earlier, of course, as he was present in the scouts’ debriefing. Not that she was able to communicate with him either before or after the meeting as Caster seemed to have evaporated after the Servants' appearance, reappearing only as Scáthach and Nobunaga to fight, acting as a sort of silent observer of Nobunaga and Scáthach’s impromptu battle.

For a second, Nobunaga thought that he could have been the referee of their match. But instead of that, he simply settled down on the nearest large rock, warmed by the sun, showing off his lack of shoes, before continuing to quietly watch the battle between the two Servants. Nobunaga thought that he, even if attracted by the battle between the two powerful Servants, would leave them after a while, realizing that it won’t be ending anytime soon, or simply fall asleep in place.

But Caster calmly watched the entire long hours of the battle, talking only a couple of times, letting off rather detached comments.

However, this particular time, Caster's comment was something that the both of them accepted and even supported, who paused for a moment to assess the situation before coming to a conclusion and dematerializing their weapons.

There was a pause for a second before Scáthach took the first step toward Nobunaga, nodding slightly. “You're not bad at fighting.”

Nobunaga only grinned wryly at those words. “Thanks, same for you.”

“Hmm, sometimes it's amazing to see how people find understanding through conflict.” Caster, who had apparently been deliberately silent during the battle, merely spoke softly, practically to himself. “I would offer you my pipe, but I'm afraid that would be premature.”

After an exchange of brief, almost complimentary remarks, the two Servants found that there’s nothing else that they want to say to each other. Scáthach took the first action, simply turning and headed for the rock that Caster had already taken a fancy to. She calmly climbed on top of it, sitting down by the edge, her feet hanging over the edge of the rock, several meters above the ground.

Nobunaga eventually decided to follow her example, sitting down on the same rock, but on the other side of Caster, also with her legs hanging by the edge.

One would assume that an awkward or uncomfortable silence would ensue. But due to the fact that neither Nobunaga nor Scáthach wanted to talk and were considerably tired, mentally or physically, nothing physical happened. And, due to the way the stone had warmed in the sun during the day, the silence that occurred at that moment was rather cozy given that all the Servants present wanted it.

Caster, after waiting a few seconds, reached behind his back and then pulled out a long pipe. Nobunaga doesn’t really know what it’s called, only able to draw a parallel to a kiseru, but a very mediocre one. With a practiced flourish, Caster poured some tobacco in, lighting it with some magic of his own, confirming Caster’s class before taking a long drag.

Nobunaga, in her life, and the myriad lifetimes that made herself, had tried smoking once or twice. In fact, it might even be said that she was an accomplished ‘smoker’, heh. Well she never really indulged in smoking tobacco, she does it socially and enjoyed it of course, but she never really does it a lot. Still, with it being dangled in front of her…

Hmm, should she demand Caster hand over his pipe or…

“If you want it, take it.” Caster, however, apparently sensing and understanding her intention, lightly handed over the pipe to her. “But be careful and do it slowly…”

Before she could take Caster's words in, Nobunaga inhaled deeply, and then immediately started coughing, almost dropping the pipe, making Caster look at her sympathetically. “This is a special kind of tobacco, strong one, you should be much more careful with it…”

Nobunaga, coughing her lungs out, didn’t have the presence of mind to really listen to what he’s saying. Regardless, when he turned to see Caster continuing to smoke his pipe smoothly, and Scáthach looking at her with mockery, it immediately pissed her off. “Try it yourself, then! In a normal kiseru, there is never so much tobacco!”

Caster just handed the pipe to Scáthach silently, “You should also be careful, and…”

Scáthach, however, did not heed this warning either, immediately inhaling the smoke deeply, before then silently handing the pipe back to Caster. At first glance, she might have seemed fine, but smoke seemed to be leaking out of her mouth.

“Ahem…” Scáthach coughed softly into her fist, letting some smoke out of her mouth, and then again, coughing out more and more smoke. “Ahem-hem!”

Nobunaga, looking satisfied at the reaction, wiped away her tears and turned away, trying to hide the smirk on her face.

Caster, on the other hand, just took another slow drag before letting the smoke evenly ring out, looking at the sunset. “It seems that my pipe has served its purpose after all…”

Scáthach coughed a few more times in her fist, her immortal status did not make her invulnerable, before glaring at Nobunaga. Seeing that Nobunaga was not saying anything, she took a deep breath, before turning away, calmly exhaling and, like Caster, started gazing at the setting sun.

Nobunaga, content with the silence, joined in, sinking into her own thoughts.

And though, in the slowly darkening sky of Singularity, still continued to hang a dark blot of unknown power, the beauty of the setting Sun, the warmth of the stone and the calm atmosphere of the passing evening did not diminish in the least.

***

Excerpt from “Letter from Hell: The Phenomenon of Jack the Ripper”:

… The number of the maniac's victims, however, is also in doubt. Although the five canonical victims attributed to the murderer were most likely indeed his victims, some scholars attribute six more to the group, bringing the number of victims to eleven. While some scholars, not the most serious of them, dare I say, are even inclined to attribute it to the maniac, participation in the Whitehall, the British Admiralty building, bombing.

However, the veracity of these claims is little better than those attributing Jack the Ripper's kinship with demons and his work alongside them. Despite the so-called ‘letter from hell’, numerous letters to newspapers, created for profit or under the influence of mass hysteria, although the image has been romanticized and popularized in popular culture, there’s nothing ‘mystical’ about Jack the Ripper.

Likewise, there is no reason to prescribe to Jack the Ripper all other sorts of mystical properties. Abilities such as the ability to disappear in the light and appear in the dark, the ability to walk through walls or to tear the organs out of victims with his bare hands, while leaving them alive. All these things were nothing more than tabloid fodder spread by money-hungry publishers and sensation-hungry journalists.

On the other hand, the strong association of Dr. Faustus as the real face of Jack the Ripper deserves a far more detailed examination…