All the World's Evil: Lesser Evils (ch. 2)

Lies were a funny thing, I thought to myself as I walked through the city of Fuyuki. People instinctively gave me a wide berth, if not for my appearance than for the vile aura that seeped from me.

Lies themselves weren't evil. They can be said with the best of intentions. Lies could be a tool for good -- to spare someone's feelings, to make them feel happy, to cover for the shortcomings of another. It just so happened that lies were the favored tool of evil -- a false rumor to ruin a reputation, to avoid blame, false words that were said simply to hurt another person.

As I walked through the streets, I found that I didn't have a taste for the tool. It would be a simple thing to disguise my true nature. To smooth away the scars on my body. To make myself so attractive that men and women alike would take leave of their senses the moment they looked upon me. For pretty things could only contain good. Or I could go the other extreme and simply dematerialize myself and walk among humans as an invisible specter.

Neither appealed to me. The idea of dishonesty itself was hardly unappealing, it was more… personal taste. It cost me nothing to look as I did and what I could gain by looking different, I didn't care for. What use were the opinions of humans?

"It's about that time," I muttered, glancing up at the darkening sky. Not quite sundown, but not far off. I didn't know what to expect from their answer. Having even a temporary alliance with Saber vastly increased my odds of taking the Grail, but pragmatism wasn't my only reason for choosing Saber as a potential ally.

She was… odd. There was evil in her. There was evil in everyone of course. I could feel it inside everyone as naturally as I could reaching out and touching it. Some had more than others and it came in all forms, but Saber's evil came in a unique shape. Shackled by guilt and expectations -- compared to most, Saber's evil was a beaten dog that didn't have the strength to even bite its owner's hand.

I had searched around for other Servants, but I had only managed to find Saber. The others seemed determined to hide out until the action began in earnest. A prudent measure, but an annoying one because it meant I had to stick with the first one that I found. Though, I doubt that I would have picked any of the others over Saber even if I had found them. She caught my interest.

I was broken from my thoughts by someone brushing against me. I heard a mumbled sorry as they quickly walked by and I glanced over my shoulder to see who had bumped into me. All I saw was a man in an oversized parka jacket that had seen better days. People avoided him just as much as they avoided me, and that was saying something. I tilted my head as I felt a piece of myself get further away with every step -- my clothes were all part of me, all the way down to the wallet that got picked out of my pocket.

“Hm,” I uttered as I turned around, following the man for no real reason that came to mind. He caught my attention, and that was reason enough. For what reason did he steal my wallet? He had committed a crime, but something being against the law didn’t equate to an act of evil. Though the act of theft could be construed as an act of evil.

The laws of society, in a just society, existed to protect people. In times of famine, stealing could doom an entire family to death. In this era of plenty, the severity of theft had diminished. Yet, the fact that there was theft at all told me all I needed to know. For as long as there have been humans, there have been those that have had more… and those that have had less.

Humanity hasn’t changed. That thought was reinforced when I watched the man walk into a convenience store to purchase beer and food with the money I had gotten from my Master. He tossed the wallet in the trash afterward, which I had transform into a flat creature to skitter across the ground to rejoin me. It melded into my boot as I followed the man to a park where he met a few others.

He held up the grocery bags and he was treated like a king returning back from a conquest. They welcomed him into a makeshift tent that lined the back wall of the small city park -- the swing sets, the slides, and jungle gyms all appeared like they hadn’t been used in a decade. I’m guessing, based purely on conjecture, on account of the dozen or so unwashed men that had taken up residence there, and lived in tents made of tarp that were supported with scavanged cardboard. They had a fire going to keep warm during the chilly winter night. They gathered around it, cracking open beers and cooking the cheap food.

A slight smile appeared on my face when I heard a toast to my health.

“Interesting,” I remarked to myself, finding the answer… satisfactory. Generosity was a common justification for evil. Wealth that was taken and then shared was deemed a lesser evil, especially against one that was perceived to have too much. However, appearances were so very deceiving. They did not know me. They did not know my situation. Those few dollars could be the difference between life and death for me.

Perhaps a child would go hungry tonight because I no longer had the money to buy food. Perhaps bills would go unpaid. Perhaps I would be stranded in this city, and it would only be a matter of time before I joined those men in sleeping on the streets.

None of that was the case of course. For me. What about the next person he stole from for a drink and food?

Just as a flower could blossom in a pile of shit, good could come from evil. However, no matter how beautiful the flower, it still came from shit. Evil was done. A lesser evil. A minor one, but evil was evil.

Which made the greater good the greatest lie of all.

I tore my gaze from the group of homeless people that ate their meal and drank their worries away, my attention stolen as a invitation was delivered to me in the same way that I had invited Saber and her master. However, the burst was too broad. It wasn’t just directed at me. Everyone in the city would have picked up on it. It was an open invitation for every Servant in the Grail War. An interesting strategy -- whoever did it must be rather confident in themselves. Or it was a trap. Or they were just an idiot.

Given that the Throne of Heroes was filled to the brim with type A personalities that were bound by Masters of varying degrees of competence… honestly, it could be any of the above. Or some odd combination of all three. The source of it was somewhere towards the ocean, not that far away. Less than a mile away -- the deadline I set with Saber was coming up, but given that Saber and her Master had accepted my invitation, there wasn’t any reason why they would refuse this one.

There was logic behind the decision as I dematerialized while my body broke up into a thousand flying insects to fly to my destination. However, if I was being honest with myself, I decided to go simply because I was curious, and I knew that would be a feeling that was shared by everyone that received the invitation. More than likely they would all come. If for nothing else, than to keep tabs on the competition.

I was curious who else had been summoned by the Grail.

I flew above the city as a swarm of insects, zeroing in on the mana pulse. It was a dock area -- shipping containers were lined up in rows while there were a number of large buildings to serve as warehouses. As far as locations go, it wasn’t a bad one. My many eyes honed in on the lone figure that was standing in the center of the docks area, flanked by containers. He carried two spears, one long red spear, and a shorter yellow spear, both wrapped in sealing talismans. A bounded field was up -- I knew that it was there, but I couldn’t do much about.

My bet was that it was an alarm system to inform the Master that set it up that someone had entered. That way their Servant wouldn’t be picked off. Smart. I would like to slip through it without being detected, or better yet, disband it, but I had no clue how. Making bounded fields was easy, but dismantling them not so much. My magic craft was tied into my cruses, making them all that I had. I was good at what I did, but I could admit that I was very much a one-trick pony.

Instead, I hovered above the bounded field and hoped that my Presence Concealment would hold up. Thankfully, I didn’t have to wait long before another Servant entered the area. If I had a face at the moment, I would have frowned as I watched Saber and her Master enter from the ocean facing side of the docks. Saber was dressed in armor, girded for battle -- steel plates covered the long skirt that reached her ankles, thick heavy gauntlets protected her hands, and a chest piece protected her vitals. In her hands was empty air, yet she clearly held a weapon- a sword of some kind. I detected magic from the swirling wind that masked the sword, but it was completely invisible.

“You alone have accepted my invitation, everyone else slunk back to the shadows to hide,” Lancer said, much to my annoyance. “These cursed rules prevent us from honorably trading names, but based on the pure energy around you, you must be Saber, correct?”

“You must be Lancer,” Saber answered without confirmation. She settled into a fighting stance just as Lancer did. “A charm spell?”

Oh? I caught a flash of movement as I shifted my attention. Someone was climbing up one of the loading cranes. No, two people were. Interesting. A man and a woman, each wearing a suit similar to the one that Saber had back in the cafe. Hardly hard evidence that they were working together, but it was something to keep a few eyes on.

Saber and Lancer continued the exchange -- Lancer had been born with a curse that attracted women to him. Seemed like an odd curse, but… well… Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, and men had killed each other for centuries over women. I could see how that would be more of a curse than a blessing. Saber brushed it off, both because of her character and her magic resistance. Something that seemed to please Lancer.

“Good. It’d be a stain on my honor to kill a woman that’s throwing herself at me,” Lancer said with a smirk. One that Saber met with a stoic face.

“Oh? You desire a fair fight? I count myself lucky to find myself face to face with such an honorable hero,” Saber said, and as soon as the words left her mouth, the tension swelled between them. Then they moved, and I only saw the clash as the entire docks seemed to tremble from their first bout. I had over a hundred eyes that were spread out across the top of the bounded field, but I could just barely follow the fight.

Both of them were little more than blurs as they traded blows at incredible speeds, I caught glimpses at best -- almost a single frame every other second as they used their footwork to gain an advantage over one another. They would slow down during a clash ever so slightly, but when both of them were moving… It really drove home just how completely unsuited for direct combat I was. All my physical stats were E. I’d probably die the moment one of them looked at me.

Being the weakest Servant really sucked, but that was just my life.

At least the view was nice, and not just because I spotted another figure standing on one of the buildings, his hands clasped behind his back. A deep blue overcoat flowed down to his ankles, his blonde hair smoothed back as he stood at attention, watching the match between his Servant and Saber. However, he was far less eye-catching than the figure perched on the highest loading tower.

Assassin. A bone mask that covered their face, and a patchwork black cloak that covered their body except for their vibrant purple hair. They materialized, so I’m betting that Assassin’s Master was looking through his Servant’s eyes. Nothing about them hinted at their true identity, or even their gender, but their presence meant that four of the seven Servants had gathered already. All there was left were Rider, Archer, and Berserker.

I made a decision. My body began to drift apart, separate swarms of insects began to break off towards their own destination. I fucking sucked as a Servant, and there was no assurance that Saber would team up with me, so I had to fight smart. My body didn’t really have any value because I could just restore my shape without needing to heal, but my Spirit Core was my one physical weakness. If it got damaged, then I was done for.

Unlike other Servants, I didn’t have to risk mine. Part of me drifted off towards Assassin high above, while another swarm went to Lancer’s Master and the figures that were possibly allies of Saber. A final swarm broke off, the one that contained my spirit core, and I sent it away for safekeeping.

My attention drifted back to the clashing Servants, whose battleground was becoming more and more damaged with every clash of sparks. Watching the two, I saw that while they were deadly serious, the little I could actually follow of their fight seemed… friendly. However, that soon changed when Lancer’s Master spoke. His voice reverberated throughout the bounded field, making those within unable to determine where it was coming from.

“Lancer, kill Saber. I grant you permission to use your Noble Phantasm,” he spoke, and I guess things were heating up. Lancer seemed pleased with the order and Saber seemed ready. Lancer dropped his shorter spear, and the sealing talisman that wrapped itself around his red spear burned away. Then the two clashed, except this time, when his red spear hit Saber’s sword, there was a blinding golden light as the invisible wind vanished.

Ah.

Saber was King Arthur.

There was no Servant in the Throne of Heroes that could mistake even the barest glimpse of that Noble Phantasm. Even one so low and wretched as myself. The holy sword Excalibur was one of the most recognizable, as King Arthur was one of the most famous legends in the west. She was the Sun Wukong of the western world -- she might not be as powerful as she might have been if the Grail War took place in England, but it was clear that she was not only one of the most powerful Servants in the war but in the Throne of Heroes itself.

Though, that didn’t stop her from taking a severe wound to her abdomen as the red spear passed through her armor like it wasn’t there. A spear that bypassed magic. Then Saber made the mistake of getting rid of her armor, leaving her in a royal blue dress, and going in for the attack. She completely forgot about the yellow spear, so focused on the threat in front of her that she didn’t realize that she had made a mistake until it was too late. Something that had been her undoing in her legend.

A blood-red spear that bypassed magic. A magical mole that attracted women. Those two clues told me who Lancer was -- Diarmuid Ua Duibhne. Meaning that the yellow spear inflicted wounds that would not heal.

Saber darted forward, her sword Excalibur shining brightly as she made her attack, only to be forced to abandon it when Lancer kicked up the yellow spear and thrust it at her unexpectedly. Saber narrowly avoided the thrust that would have killed her, though based on the amount of blood that soaked her sleeve, she hadn’t avoided an injury completely.

Hm. I think it was time that I stopped taking a back seat.

I flew down towards the shipping containers, the swarm of insects condensing into a human shape. I only had enough mass for a child, but my body twisted, breaking and contorting as it grew into a familiar shape. The same one that I had met Saber with, so she would know it was me. I looked down at the two Servants, a slight smile on my face as I began to materialize. As far as entrances went, this one was going to be a pretty good one.

“Yo-” I began as I materialized in full, only to be interrupted as a lighting bolt slammed into the ground between Saber and Lancer. Lighting danced around the broken concrete floor and I heard the bellowing of bulls. Blinking away the light spots in my eyes, I saw a chariot pulled by massive bulls flying through the air. In it was the Servant Rider, for it could be no one else -- a tall man that was closer to seven feet tall than six, built like a brick shit house and wearing a red cloak that was the same color as the mane of hair and beard he had.

“I am Iskandar, King of Conquerors!” Rider introduced himself loudly, throwing his hands out wide with an even wider smile on his face. My surprise was mirrored on Saber and Lancer’s faces -- and, apparently, Rider’s Master who rode with him in the chariot. He was either very brave or very stupid to do that.

“Y-you idiot! What are you doing?! Your identity is supposed to be a secret! A secret!” A waif of a young man protested, but Rider ignored him in favor of focusing on me.

“Ah… sorry, did I cut you off?” he asked me, sounding apologetic as he rubbed the back of his head.

My head fell as I dropped into a squat, my entrance thoroughly ruined and my thunder stolen. “No, it’s fine. Nice to meet you, I guess,” I replied, a sigh leaving my body. My entire life was suffering.

Saber finally looked up at me, “Caster?” she asked, surprised, earning another sigh that threatened to deflate me. I just wanted to look cool, you know? Was that really so much to ask? I’m seriously gonna cry over here. Can I get a do over on my entrance? Please? “What are you doing here?”

“Clearly he was drawn by the brilliance of your fight! The clash of two noble heroes -- is it any wonder that we were drawn in by such a dazzling display?” Rider answered for me, before letting out a boisterous laugh. I eyed him with some annoyance, but said nothing to dissuade him from the idea. Though our legends were spaced out by a few hundred years, I had witnessed Iskandar’s conquering of what had been Persia, sweeping over the lands that had given birth to my existence.

Even if he hadn’t given his name, I would have known him by sight. Though, I couldn’t claim to know him.

Nor could he claim to know me.

“I had hoped to offer this to Saber and Lancer, but the more the merrier! Saber, Lancer, and even you, Caster -- yield the grail to me and join my army! Together, we shall conquer the known world! Even the universe itself!” Rider offered, throwing his hands out wide as his Master sputtered. “You will be treated as honored allies as we partake in the greatest joy known to man -- conquest! As shall you be adequately compensated should you care about such things.”

Lancer, surprisingly, was the first to shoot down the offer. “I refuse. My loyalty belongs to no one other than my Master. I shall die before I deliver the grail to anyone but him.” He rejected the offer without a moment of hesitation, his voice firm and unyielding. Rider frowned before he looked to Saber.

“I too refuse your offer. I am the rightful king of Britain, as such, I will yield to no one,” Saber refused, her voice every bit as firm as Lancer’s had been. Rider’s shoulder dropped an inch as he slowly looked up at me, his eyes could best be described as the gaze of a puppy.

I smiled, “I’m too much of a pacifist to enjoy world conquest. I’ll have to pass, Rider,” I told him, making an explosive sigh escape the large man. The offer itself wasn’t a bad one beyond having to give up the Grail. Like Saber, Rider was one of the more famous legends from the west, so he was likely her equal when it came to stats.

But I couldn’t bring myself to accept the offer. Personal reasons.

“Rejected three for three? What a shame,” he muttered, sounding genuinely disappointed with our refusal. What a harebrained scheme. His Master agreed, as he began to beat against Rider’s side with his fists, doing exactly zero damage to him as he wailed, very unhappy with how things were going for him. It seemed that Rider was someone that only went at his own pace, forcing his Master to keep up.

Who was apparently named Waver Velvet according to Lancer’s Master, “Waver Velvet,” he spoke, his voice ringing out all around us. “I had wondered what possessed you to steal my catalyst, but I never imagined that you would participate in the Grail War yourself. As your teacher, it falls on me to teach you an important lesson -- the consequences of betrayal in the world of Magi.” There was a cruel smile on his face that I could hear even if I didn’t see it on his face.

Waver trembled like a shaking leaf as I considered the accusation. Rider did so as well, speaking up and voicing his displeasure. “You, my Master? Don’t be foolish! You, who hides in the shadows like a snake in the grass could never be worthy for me to call Master. The least you would need to do for me to acknowledge you is ride with me in battle like young Waver.” Rider made a dismissive gesture, missing the look of awe that Waver sent up at him.

But… “Acknowledge or not, Waver stole from Lancer’s Master. This isn’t a wallet with a couple of bucks, Rider. It’s a matter of life and death. It’s his very dream that he wishes for the Holy Grail to grant him. By stealing your catalyst, Waver might have doomed Lancer’s Master to die at your hands when he might have otherwise lived. Not to disparage Laner’s ability, but it could have doomed him to die at ours when he might have won.” I spoke, my voice calm as Waver seemed to wilt. “I’m sure Waver had no ill intentions, but intentions don’t matter in this situation. Actions have consequences and his actions impacted the fate of someone other than himself.”

Maybe it wouldn’t have changed anything. Maybe Lancer’s Master was fated to die. Maybe being the Master of Rider wouldn’t be enough to save him from that fate, but those what if’s didn’t really matter. An act of theft was committed. This one with far graver outcomes that were far more dire than a stolen wallet.

Saber looked at me with a surprised expression, “Caster speaks the truth.” she backed me up, giving me a small nod.

However, Rider just shrugged, “Waver might be small and rather flimsy, but in his chest beats the heart of a true conqueror! Taking what you want whenever you want, having the courage to see your actions through -- these are the things that make him worthy to be my Master.” Rider responded, his tone thoroughly unrepentant, but based on the expression on Waver’s face, that opinion wasn’t shared.

“How unexpected,” Lancer’s Master remarked. “I wouldn’t be against a temporary alliance to deal with the slight upon my person and satisfy your own views of justice.”

“Nah, I’m good,” I quickly dismissed the idea. “I think your and my ideas of giving people what they deserve are very different. Plus, the main act is about to start.” I remarked, and in response, another Servant materialized. Archer, by the look of it. I spared him a glance as he stood on one of the light poles, completely clad in golden armor sporting a pair of oversized shoulder pauldrons. His hair was platinum blonde, and spiked up while heavy golden earrings hung from his ears. His blood red eyes looked down on all of us, even though I technically stood above him.

He was stupidly handsome. The kind of handsome that left people staring. Based on the expression on his face, he knew it too.

“The Servant that defeated Assassin?” I heard Lancer’s Master say, catching my attention. Assassin? I was looking right at him. He was anything but defeated.

“How unsightly,” the golden man began, arrogance dripping from his tone. “Petty kings squabbling over what belongs to me.” he said, making Rider scratch at his cheek.

“Actually, I think it belongs to me. The catalyst was part of my mantle, after all,” Rider responded, holding up his cloak to prove his point, making the golden-clad warrior sneer so hard it was a wonder that he didn’t pull something in his face.

“Not your disgusting cloak, you imbecile. The Holy Grail. Beg for forgiveness and throw yourself on your sword, and I will allow you the honor of dying in my presence,” he said, stamping a foot, making the glass bulb of the streetlight shatter. His gaze slid to me, his blood-red eyes narrowing at me. “Your arrogance is appalling, you deformed dog. You dare stand above me?”

“I was here first. No one made you stand on a lamppost,” I pointed out as I tilted my head. This guy was certainly a character. Who did I know that could match that sheer, unrestrained arrogance? “Look upon me, for I am the consequences for your dumbass decisions. Idiot.” I tacked on, and oohhh… I was trying to piss him off, and I had to say, worked like a fucking charm. In response to my words, he scowled deeply as the air rippled behind him, releasing golden light.

Weapons began to emerge from the ripples. Not just weapons -- Noble Phantasms. Every single one of them, and there were a solid half dozen. Swords, spears, axes -- each one the manifestation of a legend. The other Servant’s made sounds of awe, but I kept my expression blank. The various swarms that I had planted around the docks enacted my plan -- a bounded field was established, just outside the range of the one Lancer’s Master had established. Parts of my body acted as its anchors, and like a curtain, a dome fell around the docking area.

If the others noticed, they gave no sign of it before a half dozen Noble Phantasms raced towards me in a blink of an eye.

“Caster!” I heard someone shout, I think Saber, before my body was obliterated in the following explosion. The Noble Phantasms passed through me, exploding upon contact. My skin was burnt, my flesh was rendered, my bones snapped. I was nearly completely obliterated.

I was also completely fine.

There were just scraps of my body that managed to survive the initial explosion, and even less survived the incredible heat that burnt those scraps until not even ash was left. There was barely an ounce of me that managed to survive the barrage, but it was enough. The dust masked me for a moment, letting me reform my body.

Landing lightly on the ground, I spared a glance at the others to see that they were shocked to see me. My attacker looked immensely displeased. “Fine. I’m on the ground now. Happy?” I asked him, hands in my pockets as an amused smile tugged at my lips.

“No. There is nothing more vile in this world than an insolent dog that doesn’t know when it should die,” was the response I got.

I kept my smile, “Sorry. Part of my legend is being hard to kill,” I said with a shrug of my shoulders. This situation wasn’t good. But, it also wasn’t bad. Because in this situation -- based on those Noble Phantasms and process of elimination -- Archer was by far the greatest threat. We had most of the roster of Servants here and being the strongest was just as dangerous as being the weakest.

My biggest worry was dying on accident during the epic battle between Archer and the rest of the actually powerful Servants.

Saber was ready to fight Archer. Rider as well. Lancer was hanging back, but I could see the various masters were ready for the main show to begin. With Archer as enemy number one.

Naturally, that’s when Berserker entered the fray.

He emerged from the ground, rising from inky black smoke like a specter. He was tall, and solidly built, however his form was difficult to perceive because of the oily black smoke that clung to his frame. A blood-red glow emerged from his visor as a tortured and vicious howl escaped his lips as he threw his head back as if to announce his arrival. All eyes turned to him, and distantly, I realized that all seven Servants were here. Myself, Saber, Lancer, Archer, Rider, Assassin, and now Berserker.

All of them within my bounded field.

This was going to be interesting.

...

Next chapter is where everything goes off the rails. I'm looking forward to it. Another point I feel like I should mention -- Fate has so many rules that it ends up contradicting itself all over the place. So, for the sake of my muse, I'm sticking with the most important rule of all -- the Rule of Cool. Everything that I have planned should be within the realm of possibility, but if it's a minor rule that's getting in the way of some cool shit, then I'm not going to sweat it. Figured I should say something because I know the Fate fandom has some puritans when it comes to the lore and I wanted to make my stance clear.

Also, big thank you for all the feedback! This chapter and the next were already in the works because I have no self-control, so the next chapter should be posted sometime soon.