• The site has now migrated to Xenforo 2. If you see any issues with the forum operation, please post them in the feedback thread.
  • Due to issues with external spam filters, QQ is currently unable to send any mail to Microsoft E-mail addresses. This includes any account at live.com, hotmail.com or msn.com. Signing up to the forum with one of these addresses will result in your verification E-mail never arriving. For best results, please use a different E-mail provider for your QQ address.
  • For prospective new members, a word of warning: don't use common names like Dennis, Simon, or Kenny if you decide to create an account. Spammers have used them all before you and gotten those names flagged in the anti-spam databases. Your account registration will be rejected because of it.
  • Since it has happened MULTIPLE times now, I want to be very clear about this. You do not get to abandon an account and create a new one. You do not get to pass an account to someone else and create a new one. If you do so anyway, you will be banned for creating sockpuppets.
  • Due to the actions of particularly persistent spammers and trolls, we will be banning disposable email addresses from today onward.
  • The rules regarding NSFW links have been updated. See here for details.
She wasn't, though. I think that's the part that Grand Order missed. Nero's Imperial Privilege skill wasn't something she was remotely capable of in life. It functions more like Old Man Henderson's Backstory of Doom. As a Servant, the world can't really deny that it was possible for her to have x, y, and z skills, because of her frankly ridiculous resources, and she pressures it into agreeing with her that yes, she did in fact know how to do whatever it is she wants to do. Further, my interpretation of Saber Nero is that she's what the real Nero believed herself to be, a superhuman, charismatic leader beloved by the people. In reality, she was nowhere near as omni-competent as she thought she was, and, as for being beloved by the people, she was less "second coming of Augustus" and more "Andrew Jackson by way of Michael Jackson."

Except Septem outright makes your interpretation false. You can have what kind of thoughts you want about it as a story and chapter, but Nero is outright at a Servant level even during life.
 
Looks like somebody hasn't been reading his Bible, huh? Anybody would know that God =/= Jesus. If you're gonna be an asshole, Galahad, you could at least try be a correct asshole.
Catholicism holds that the Holy Trinity (the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit) are all three aspects of the same entity: God. Any Christian who's not a Protestant heathen would know that.
 
Chapter 36
"I'm not sure slapping him awake is a viable option, Shielder."

"I really don't care at this point. I just want to slap the shit out of him."

Mm. What?

There's someone looming over me, and-

"I'm awake! I'm awake!"

Galahad slaps me.

"The fuck?"

"Just making sure." He gives me a patently false smile, as, behind him, Georgios sighs.

"Eh. So, what did I miss?"

"Nero's entire army was defeated and butchered almost to the man, and we couldn't agree on what to do, so we just grabbed your unconscious ass and booked it."

"Shit. How big was the enemy force?"

"One Servant."

"Oh. Well, shit. is Nero still alive, or is human history well and truly fucked?"

"She's still alive. She was taken captive when the surviving remainder of her forces defected. Whoever this Servant is, he's a Roman Emperor. He's marching towards Rome as we speak." Georgios interjects.

"Welp. New plan. We get in pretending to be a band of mercenary Servants, and then assassinate him when his guard is down. Then we drop Nero off in Rome, use her information network to get the lay of the land, and then head out." That should work well enough. And even if he sees through us, we outnumber him six-to-one.

"I'll tell the others."

---
Georgios rides up to the camp, with me on Bayard behind him. The others follow at their own pace, Hassan staying unseen to look for an opening.

"My Emperor! A rider approaches!" one of the leaders of the thirty remaining legionnaires calls out, pointing at us. The emperor is carried in Nero's litter, lounging with the curtains drawn back. He blond, and has the muscles of a bodybuilder. Fairly handsome, too. Behind the litter, two soldiers are dragging along a tightly bound blonde woman whom I'm assuming is Nero.

"Excellent work, soldier! As thanks, when we reach Rome, I will sleep with your wife!" the unknown Servant booms. There's an awkward pause, and the soldiers all look at each other, each silently asking the man next to them if he heard that too.

"Ah, good one, sir!" the spotter calls back with a distinctly uncomfortable grin.

"Indeed. I am most beneficent!" the unnamed emperor boasts, a jovial grin splitting his face. "Forevermore after, you shall be permitted to embrace your wife, and know that, however briefly, she has been touched by the divine! Truly, no greater gift could ever be given!"

The unlucky centurion who noticed us is starting to look like he's regretting not dying a few miles back with most of his comrades, but still pulls himself together to call out to us, "State your name and business!"

"Mercenaries, seeking employment!" I call back. "We had heard that the Emperor Nero was marching on campaign, and sought to find him, in the hope that he might hire us!"

"Ah, you speak wrongly, mercenary! My dear niece's forces have recanted their foolish and misguided allegiance to her, and she herself has come to accept her new position as my bride!"

"There is no Emperor of Rome but I!" Nero rages, practically frothing at the mouth as she struggles against the ropes binding her. "And we are not married, uncle!"

"Of course we are, my darling Nero! Why, I called down Juno herself to officiate our marriage, as all these soldiers have witnessed!" Said soldiers all nod to the affirmative, albeit reluctantly.

"No, you spent twenty minutes ranting at the air, and then turned around and said we were married! And these spineless cowards agreed with you, because they don't have the balls to die on their feet like Romans!" the soldiers dragging her along actually wince at that one.

"Ignore my bride's ramblings," Caligula (because of fucking course it's Caligula, I'm actually embarrassed it took me this long to figure it out) demurs, waving a hand grandly, and ignoring Nero's inarticulate screams of rage from behind him. "You shall be permitted, barbarian, to serve and worship at the feet of a god. You may now thank me."

'Hassan, Strategy Two. Take his heart. I'll keep him distracted.' "Great Emperor Gaius, no, most venerated Latiaran Jove, we would be pleased beyond all measure to-"

"Delusional Heartbeat: Zabaniya."

"-watch you die like an idiot. We work for pay, jackass."

Caligula, fortunately enough, actually does have the basic decency to just die then and there. He keels over with a look of shock and dawning anger on his face.

"You know, one of these days, that won't work. But until that day it will never stop being funny as hell."

"You're a disgusting excuse for a human being, Master."

"Hate you too, Galahad." I look over to Vlad, who's looking a bit annoyed at the anti-climax. "Hey Lancer!"

"Yes, my Master?"

"Not a single one of these soldiers is vital to the course of history. Go nuts."

As I dismount, I can hear Vlad start to giggle maniacally. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see the dread tyrant of Wallachia grinning like a kid at Christmas. But like, Murder-Christmas. Christmurs?

"Shielder, Assassin, walk with me. The rest of you save Lancer, maintain a perimeter. No one escapes."

The soldiers part fearfully as I, with Galahad at my left and Kojirou at my right, walk through their ranks. Behind us, the screaming starts.

We stroll unmolested through the chaos. Or rather, Kojirou near-instantly decapitates anyone that tries to accost us. Really starting to regret the white uniform, though. All these bloodstains are going to be a bitch to wash out.

Finally, we reach our destination. The Emperor Nero looks on in horror as the men who once marched in her name are ripped apart and impaled, their dying screams drowned out by Vlad's laughter.

"Ave, Imperatrix Nero." I call out in greeting, as Kojirou's Monohoshizao slices her bonds. "Shall we discuss my group's going rates?"​
 
Last edited:
Chapter 37
"You have the Emperor's thanks for aiding her against the imposter!" Nero informs us, rising to gaze imperiously at us. "Indeed, you shall be granted all you desire and more, when we have returned to Rome, should you choose to stand beside the rightful Emperor!"

"Excellent." Wow. She didn't even ask what we wanted. She is legitimately terrible at negotiating with mercenaries.

"Very well then! Slaves! Ready my litter!" she turns to face the huddled forms of her litter slaves, only for a taloned, gore-encrusted gauntlet to suddenly grip her shoulder.

Vlad looks her dead in the eye. "They. Go. Free."

She gulps, and then turns back to her slaves. "Right then. They have been doing a fairly good job of it, I suppose freedom isn't too much to ask for! Now, could somebody carry my-"

"You're walking."

"I suppose I have been meaning to get more exercise, lately! Right then! Onwards, to Rome!" She cheerfully starts forward, only to jump back screaming as her foot sinks into the ground with a nauseating squelch. No, wait, that wasn't the ground. She stepped onto one of the traitorous legionnaires' corpses. Vlad gutted this one. I think Nero stepped on his pancreas, actually.

I wait politely for Nero to recompose herself, which she manages to do after running around in a panic, trying to wipe her foot clean against the ground.

"Lancer? You done?"

"Just about!"

"Please! I have a family!"

"Oh, really? Good on you!" Vlad drives his taloned fingers into the man's eye sockets, and then pulls back, his armored fingers splintering the man's skull as he drags them upwards. The man struggles, screaming like a banshee, before finally falling still. "And, yep, that was the last one!"

"Feel better now that you got it out of your system?"

"A great deal!"

Finally, with Nero calming down, we traverse the killing field to join the others. Nero's too squeamish to walk on ground covered in viscera, so I make Galahad give her a piggyback ride across the field. And then, after we burn the bodies, we start on the road to Rome.
 
Chapter 38
Georgios doesn't speak to me for most of the ride to Rome.

Finally, I muster up the nerve to speak with him.

"Are you mad at me?"

He looks back over his shoulder. "Why, no, Master. Why would you ever think such a thing?"

"This is about the field of corpses isn't it."

He gives me a deadpan look. "No. This is actually about that other time you let a violent and unstable Romanian warlord butcher an entire company of effectively defenseless soldiers."

"Okay, yeah. Fair enough." I sigh. "I'm not entirely sure what I was thinking, there." His unimpressed gaze makes me backtrack a bit. "Alright, I do know what I was thinking. That they were all traitors who would probably be flung from the Tarpeian Rock anyways, so why not use their deaths as a tool to take the edge off Lancer's bloodlust and give us a strong bargaining position with Nero?" His gaze intensifies, and I find it hard to look him in the eye. "That was wrong of me, wasn't it? Traitors or not, they were people." Suddenly, I'm all too aware of the blood still drying on the fabric of my uniform, not a drop of it mine. I feel dirty.

"I won't deny that you'll have to work with some of the worst sort of people, Master," Georgios says at last, turning his head forwards once more. "But that doesn't mean you have to become them."

That… that... Damn. I-

After a minute to compose myself, I look back up. "How did the others handle it?"

"Caster lasted a minute before she vomited. I think she's questioning whether she should be working with you. Berserker seems to be harboring similar doubts. Assassin, for his part, is completely unperturbed, although I sincerely doubt that he would so much as bat an eye if you ordered him to eat babies."

"Right. I'll talk to Caster and Berserker. And I'll try to keep Vlad from going on a rampage like that again." I look back towards Georgios. "And you aren't having doubts?"

"The Lord led me to you. Perhaps it was to do more than simply fight on your side."

"Thank you." And as I say that, I feel some imperceptible weight between us lighten.
 
"The Lord led me to you. Perhaps it was to do more than simply fight on your side."

St. George being the best bro here.

Also quick question. Other than Sanzang, Tamamo, and Vlad, are there any other SR Servants you'll be summoning or are you talking from your own experience with the gacha?? Cause if it's gacha, I'm wondering why you haven't got Amdersen and his heals (the only reason I use him tbh)
 
St. George being the best bro here.

Also quick question. Other than Sanzang, Tamamo, and Vlad, are there any other SR Servants you'll be summoning or are you talking from your own experience with the gacha?? Cause if it's gacha, I'm wondering why you haven't got Amdersen and his heals (the only reason I use him tbh)
My own experience with the gacha. Lancer Medusa, Yan Qing, and Siegfried are all coming up, though. Also Sieg. Of those five, Yan Qing and Siegfried are the only ones I use. Still haven't drawn Andersen.
 
Chapter 39
As we head down the road, the foot traffic begins to grow more dense. And on the horizon, I see Rome.

It sprawls between the hills, great districts of marble and concrete tightly crammed together, between the seven hills. And it feels... alive. So very alive. Crawling and swarming with people in every nook and cranny.

It also smells like shit and unwashed bodies, and looks like an urban planner's worst nightmare.

"My Emperor!" I turn to regard the rider in legionary armor as he approaches us. "You have returned! Where is the legion? Who are these barbarians?"

As she regales him with a retelling of her misfortunes (albeit severely biased), I signal for Cursed Arm to scout around. Then, I interrupt her thrilling retelling of how, even in chains, her imperial glory drove even the most vile and black-hearted mercenaries to recant the allegiance to coin, and swear their eternal allegiance to the one true Emperor of Rome.

"Emperor Nero?" I interrupt. "My companions and I are quite exhausted from our ride, and our exertions in rescuing you and slaughtering your captors. Would it be permissible for us to ride ahead with a token of your authority to secure lodgings in Rome, that we may recuperate and consolidate our list of demands?"

"Certainly, my loyal subordinate!" she passes me her ring, and then returns to her audience, which has grown substantially as people begin to flock out of the outlying districts of the city. "So there I was! With my limbs freed, and my trusty sword in hand, I lashed, out, and slew ten with my first stroke! The mercenaries followed, driven to ten times their fighting fury by my imperial stature, and together we cut a path straight to the false emperor!"

I take my leave, with Georgios at my side. 'Xuanzang, Kojirou, stay with Nero. Make sure she returns to her palace safely.'

The ring gets us in with no problem, and we're directed to her acting regent by a messenger.

He's an old man, bald, and only lightly obese. His toga is tightly clenched in one hand, and his face is a stern mask.

"Nero sent you."

"Indeed. We saved her from her captivity after the defeat of her forces, and aided in the execution of those among her men that had turned coat in order to spare their lives. She was delayed outside of Rome, and sent us ahead to request lodgings, and inform you of her return."

He regards us for a moment. "Do you know my name?"

I pause, thinking it over. "From your conduct, and the fact that Nero trusts you enough to place you in command during her absence, I'd guess you to be Lucius Annaeus Seneca."

"I am indeed that man. Has my repute grown so greatly, that my name and station are known even to foreigners from distant lands?"

"I fear that your intellect has been greatly misreported to me, if you have so readily divined the distance of my homeland."

"Your clothing is unusual, with your pants marking you a Persian but your complexion marking you as being from much farther North. Beyond that, I have never heard my mother tongue spoken with your particular accent. I must conclude, therefore, that you come from quite a ways away."

"Indeed. I and my band had heard that the Roman Empire was in peril, and thought to bring our distant home no small benefit by selling our blades to you in your time of need."

"I have reports of Nero's arrival, with you in their presence. I suppose, in that light, I shall take you to be who you say you are. What are your demands?"

I break out my list of needed supplies. He takes it from me and begins scanning through it, before stopping on one particular entry.

"How in the name of Jove do you mean to carry a smelter all the way back to your homeland?"

"We have in our number a skilled maga, whose arts may permit such a feat. We need not the specific items, of course. We will gladly accept monetary payment of sufficient value in the place of any of the items on the list, that we may purchase it ourselves."

"And you believe yourselves to merit so high a price?" he's got his feet under him. He's going to haggle. Time to knock him off-balance.

"Nero's legion was destroyed by a single man." That knocks the wind out of his sails.

"What?" He keeps his face still, but the lines of his toga have changed, as is his hand is gripping it tighter.

"A single man destroyed Nero's legion. And we killed him in less than a minute. Ask Nero yourself if you still doubt our worth."

Seneca's face remains as impassive as polished marble. "We shall table this discussion for the moment."

"This is acceptable."

"How many munera has Nero ordered?"

"She has requested none that I am aware of."

"Give it time."

A messenger bursts in. "Worthy Seneca! The Emperor has demanded a stage be built just inside the city walls, that she might serenade the populace with a recitation of her doings on campaign!"

"Of course she has." The stern old Stoic actually sighs before composing himself once more. "Antonius, guide these mercenaries to the palace's guest rooms. They will be staying for some time." He turns to me. "Please take the opportunity to bathe and change your clothes before the Emperor calls you. I must go and make the preparations for the chariot races, theater performance, and gladiatorial games."

"I thought she had only asked for a stage to be constructed?" I interject.

"You really haven't known the Emperor for long, have you?" And with that, he makes his exit.

I leave the interview room, and nod for Georgios and Vlad to follow me. They do so, Tamamo curled up in fox mode in the crook of Georgios' arm.

"Good Antonius!" I say, turning to our designated guide. "Might you show us to our rooms, and possibly instruct us on where to go if we wish to make ourselves presentable?"
 
Last edited:
Chapter 40
"Right. The bath was definitely worth it." I've changed into a fresh, spare uniform (Galahad apparently had one in his shield) and I felt like a new man. Still hoping I didn't catch anything from all that blood I got on me. I gave most of my Servants the day off, with the exceptions of Kojirou, Cursed Arm, and Galahad. Sent them out into the city in order to see the sights and gather information. 'Canvassing team, is Nero likely to call on us soon?'

'No. She has started tossing criminals into pits of starving wolves, so I can only assume that her little bacchanal will go on for quite some time.' Georgios replies.

'Are you sure we can't kill her, Master?' Vlad practically whines. 'She is in dire need of a good staking.'

'Look on the bright side, Vlad. ' I send back in my best consoling tones. 'She dies, according to history, driven to suicide, rejected by the people she claims she gave everything to, after killing everyone she cared about in her fits of paranoia. We're not saving her life, we're prolonging her suffering.'

'You have a twisted mind, Master. I like it.'

I turn to Galahad. "Do you think I could get Seneca to let me scan a few lost works for the Chaldean Archives?"

"I care not for your petty errands, worm."

"Thanks, pal. I knew you'd support me."

----
"And that's the last of Ovid's Medea. You getting this, Da Vinci?"

"Loud and clear."

"Shame we can't grab the missing books of Tacitus, though. Hey, he's actually a kid right now, so it's possible for me to meet him. Pretty cool, right?"

"Mercenary! I require your aid!" Nero bursts into the archives. "Come. Join me! I shall describe how I most valiantly rescued you from the false emperor's clutches!"
Join the revel, child of man.
"I-" I blink. What was I thinking, sitting around and reading when my emperor could have used my presence? Why is this even important? Nero needs me to do something, and she's the most important thing in the world! Really, I should never have left her side in the first place. "Of course, my Emperor!" Galahad looks confused for some reason. Why, though? Our Emperor is perfect!

She smiles, and drags me off.
---​

"And so I smashed his chains with my bare hands, and scooped him up in my arms!" Nero recounts, reenacting the deeds in question to my slight discomfort. I frown. I'm actually fairly sure it didn't happen like that, though.
Just enjoy the show.
Of course it happened that way! Nero said so, and Nero is perfect in every way!

Really, I have no idea what I was so upset about. Resting in the arms of my glorious Emperor is actually quite comfortable. Although I do wonder why Galahad is standing in the corner looking like he just saw a flying pig.
---​

"Ah, but what better way to follow an account of my feats of physical might than to put on a showing about that prince of physical power, Mighty Hercules!" my glorious Emperor crows, as I and all her audience hang wraptly on her every word. "Carlus! I shall play Hercules! Shall you be my Megara?" I- wait. I'm playing Hercules' wife? And, wait, why is she batting her eyes at me? Is she coming on to me? Yeah, hell to the-
Love me.
Yes. After all, for my Emperor to deign to take me to her bed would be an honor beyond compare. And to star in a play with her! Truly, no man alive could ever be so fortunate!

I frown as I look at Galahad in the audience. He seems to be outright panicking for some reason. Ah, well. It's probably nowhere near as important as Nero.
---​

"Carlus! Fetch us a wine jar, would you? And then, perhaps, we might retire for more... pleasant entertainment?" I'm not entirely-
Love me.
My Emperor would grant me so great an honor as to be her bedwarmer? Truly, an honor beyond compare! "At once, my Emperor!"

She ruffles my hair, smiling at me. We're in her private quarters, now. Galahad ran off for some reason or another. Nowhere near as important as Nero, of course. "Silly little mercenary. Just call me Nero. Now shoo. Get the wine."

I depart at once, Emperor Nero's glory lending wings to my feet.
---​

On my way back with the wine jar, Galahad slugs my in the gut.

"Worm! Snap out of it!" I can only wheeze as I kneel in the growing puddle of spilled wine and pottery shards.

"A bit overboard, don't you think, Shielder?" Georgios comments from behind me.

"Galahad! How dare you! I was on an errand from her Imperial Majesty to-" Hold on. What the fuck was I doing?

Something of my confused horror must be visible on my face, because Galahad smiles. "Back with us, worm?"

I throw up on his shoes.​
 
My own experience with the gacha. Lancer Medusa, Yan Qing, and Siegfried are all coming up, though. Also Sieg. Of those five, Yan Qing and Siegfried are the only ones I use. Still haven't drawn Andersen.
Siegfried is great as a beginning Saber, truly. And tiny Dio is great if you love Arts stalls like me.

Join the revel, child of man.
Just enjoy the show.
Love me.
Love me.
Wow, that Charisma sure is strong huh?

Was that supposed to be the Charisma skill, or something? She doesn't have that, especially as a human.
She probably did, maybe even stronger than what she has as a Servant. Remember, Servants are weaker than the original.

Something of my confused horror must be visible on my face, because Galahad smiles. "Back with us, worm?"

I throw up on his shoes.
A great way to end that chapter :D
 
To misquote Suetonius, "Hactenus quasi de principe, reliqua ut de Bestia narranda sunt."
Okay, and what does that mean in English? Because Google Translate is giving me "Much for Caligula as emperor; we must me relate to the rest of the beast, that they are," and I doubt that's right.
 
What impertinence! To interrupt the best emperor.
EDT57oXVUAAJeDB.jpg
 
Okay, and what does that mean in English? Because Google Translate is giving me "Much for Caligula as emperor; we must me relate to the rest of the beast, that they are," and I doubt that's right.

Google gave me
As emperor, so as to bring about telling
the beast.

I feel like it's either wrong, has some
meaning that eludes me or is possibly
contextual. On the other hand I might
be the least cunning person on the planet.
subtle wordplay often escapes me and riddles
just plain kick my ass.
 
It's a variation on a quote by a Roman historian about Caligula. The original roughly translates to:
"So much for Caligula as emperor; we must now tell of his career as a monster."

Not sure, if this means we're getting into Whore of Babylon stuff, but we're in for a fun ride for sure.
 
It's a variation on a quote by a Roman historian about Caligula. The original roughly translates to:
"So much for Caligula as emperor; we must now tell of his career as a monster."

Not sure, if this means we're getting into Whore of Babylon stuff, but we're in for a fun ride for sure.
Close. I changed things up a little. "What has been told was as if about an emperor. What remains must be told as if about a Beast."
 
Not taking shots or anything, but just a couple things I'd like to point out about the following:

Wow, that Charisma sure is strong huh?
....Yeah, she's not using Charisma. If you look at her character page it essentially says she can gain access to a wide variety of skills via Imperial Privilege, but has the caveat that she requires a basis for comprehending and thus developing/wielding them.

The problem with this is that in order to inspire people from within like Charisma does, you need to be able to comprehend said people, something which Type Moon's Nero was characterised as having failed to do until her dying moments, and which was actually the root issue which led to her betrayal and subsequent death, with her last line "too late. This is fidelity," being a belated eureka moment where she finally comprehends things and shifts her perspective from rampant, uncomprehending (, and thus oft-times harmful... the 'singing' man.... she locked them in....,) devotion to her people, to a truer, more attentive and reciprocal form.

As such, the living Nero they're currently faced with, who has yet to undergo that epiphany, hasn't yet gained the necessary spark of comprehension to act as a basis for a true Charisma skill, meaning that her attempts to employ it would at best result in Charisma-(False), allowing her to butterfly around and corral her people with a hollow/incomplete facsimile thereof, or in the case of notable individuals, and especially that of the MC due to Shielder's Mana Defence, Nero's forceful attempts to sway him would lead Imperial Privilege's approximation of Charisma to further warp into something like Charisma-(False) Tyranny (True), forcibly overcoming his resistance and suborning him through external means (which as best as I can figure, seems to be some form of subconscious mental interference in this case) to cause his behaviour to approximate the desired result, likely leaving Nero herself ignorant of the difference in methodology due to her skill having functioned "perfectly".

She probably did, maybe even stronger than what she has as a Servant. Remember, Servants are weaker than the original.
My second point here is that that's not necessarily how Servants work. It's more like this:
Person has their existence (permanently, or at least so barring efforts to negate such) etched within a subsection of Akasha/the Root, by having their existence become a distinct concept in and of itself, something which is usually achieved by becoming a Hero, hence said subsection of Akasha being labelled the Throne of Heroes due to them being the majority of it's inhabitants, in spite of it also containing a fair number of villains, monsters, fictional entities, or random historical figures whom also ascended to concept-hood.

As a result of this ascension into becoming the very concept and definition of their own self as imprinted upon the Root, they become a higher dimensional existence akin to a divine spirit pretty much by default, as they gain something akin to a God's Authority, but rather than governing something like "War" or "Thievery", the Spirit's 'Authority' (which is essentially another word for 'Admin Privileges') applies specifically to the 'database' of "Their Self" which contains both what they were in life (provided they weren't originally fictional) and what has been attributed as being a part of their existence.

As a result of this, the Heroic Spirit Cuchulain would be the most Cuchulain-ish Cuchulain that ever Cuchulain-ed, literally the platonic incarnation that embodies every facet of what it is to be Cuchulain, including things such as his Divinity, all at once.

While this may sound awesome however, it has the issue of not being a functional existence once you start skipping down the rungs of the Sephirot, as more and more issues start cropping up the further you are from Keter and the closer you get to Malkuth and thus materialisation. (For proof of the summoning's employment of the Sephirot see the following line of the summoning chant: "coming from the crown, the three-forked road that leads to the kingdom circulate.")

As such, in order to retain your summoned Hero's cohesion while dragging them down to a lower dimensional existence, a summoner typically binds their Summoned Spirit within the confines of a Servant Class, essentially acting as the lovechild of a search engine query and a washer/dryer's lint trap, filtering your Heroic Spirit's essence of anything which inherently conflicts with the class to which you bind it.

When combined with the defined capacity limits of the Spiritual Container into which the Servant Class is usually integrated, this can lead to your summoned servant being stripped of extraneous elements to make room for further optimisation, a.k.a chucking out or diminishing skills or abilities attuned to other classes in order to make room for those more compatible with the Class etched into the container they're being summoned into, which is why Cuchulain, essentially Irish! Heracles, is pretty much crippled due to being denied the majority of his skillset, constrained by having being summoned under the auspice of a single class.. Conversely, if the Servant utilises an identical skillset across multiple classes, (*cough* Semiramis *cough*) they can effectively be summoned under the constraints of both classes simultaneously and essentially refining the resulting servant, hence the existence of the skill, Double Summon.

Similarly to the above, if a Heroic Spirit has someone metaphysically piss in their conceptual-self pool, say by writing a fictitious accounting of said Hero's existence as some kind of abomination unto God, which later becomes synonymous with the concept of said Hero, then the 'search query' of the Servant Class would fail to filter it, leading the resulting Servant to possess a trait such as Innocent Monster or the like.

To summarise the point I'm making here, while the Servant incarnation of said Hero may be weaker than the original due to things such as their Class Constraints denying them the full breadth of their abilities (which is the case for Cu, Gilgamesh and Heracles, among others), that is far from always being the case, especially with the parameter boosts from both the Class Container and from ascending to become a Heroic Spirit in the first place; the most notable example being Hassan of the Hundred Faces, who went from being Mr. Assassin with MPD, to Mr. Assassin who can manifest said MPD as a literal one man army.

Essentially, becoming a Heroic Spirit and then being distilled down into Servant form typically leaves a person's existence more.. concentrated... than they start with due to being ascended then filtered, but the Class binding itself tends to leave said Servant less versatile than they started out. As such, it tends to diminish Generalists while benefiting Specialists by strengthening their specialisation further due to it fitting under a single Class (think Assassin Emiya, evolving Time-Accel into Chronos Rose). This is why skills like Imperial Privilege or the various Wisdom skills, and Noble Phantasms like King's Order and Reincarnation Pandora, are regarded as broken in universe, due to enabling a Servant to circumvent their Class Constraints to a relatively large degree, giving them a fairly big advantage during Grail Wars and the like by letting them both have their cake and eat it.
 
Last edited:
Chapter 41
"Good Seneca! I seem to have noticed a minor irregularity regarding the Emperor!" I keep my tone jovial as Vlad dangles him by his foot over the edge of the building. "Any clarification you could provide as to why this aberration may exist would, of course, be greatly welcomed."

"And would your ridiculously-armored thug drop me if I should refuse?" Seneca asks, a single eyebrow raised wryly. I have to give the man points, though. That's the most emotion he's shown through this whole ordeal.

"Quite possibly, yes." I smile, showing as many teeth as I can. "So, are you feeling cooperative? I'd apologize, but Nero nearly dragged me off to her bed before I snapped out of it, and I have a gut feeling you know more about this than you've been letting on." Thus, the Batman interrogation. Unfortunately the tallest building in this city is three stories, so it's rather lost its impact.

"Perhaps. I had wondered if you were immune to it. I suppose this answers my question." Seneca observes, as mild and sedate as if he was discussing the weather. "I suppose I shall grant you an explanation, then. I will, however, require that your enforcer puts me down first."

"Lancer, you heard the man. Set him down on the roof."

Seneca gets to his feet, swaying a little as the blood leaves his head, before turning to face me. Then, he begins his tale. "I first met Nero when she was twelve. At the time, I was confused. She was a woman, and yet had been designated as heir to the Empire. What fool would allow such a thing? But then, well, you've felt it yourself, haven't you? The whispers, that presence, grinding away against your mind, permeating your consciousness, taking away your control until all you can do is slavishly dote upon her. I managed to resist it, though. My philosophy stresses self-control in all things, and, to my great pride, I managed to live up to the standards of my forebears. Thus, to some extent, I could actually tell her 'no.'"

My respect for him rises greatly. To stand in her presence, and deny her? How was that- How could that even be possible? I had only done it because I had a Catholic Saint on hand, even if I didn't know it at the time.

"She was shocked, of course." Seneca recounts almost fondly. "I was the first person other than her mother to deny her anything, after all. But, afterwards, she actually paid some measure of attention to my lessons. I think she might have started looking to me as a father, after a fashion." He sighs. "After that, of course, I confronted Agrippina. She initially planned to kill me, but changed her mind at the last moment. After all, it was a rare man who could resist her little Nero's presence, and it would be such a shame to waste so valuable a resource. So instead, she told me what she had done."

He looks at us grimly. "She knew from the start that a daughter could never become Emperor. But she was never one to allow anything to stop her. So, with Nero still less than a week old, she bound her child's soul to... something. She called it The Beast. Regardless, Nero has always unconsciously called upon that thing's power. Agrippina kept it in check with her potions and tinctures while she was alive, and the three of us who resisted its call, myself, Agrippina, and Burrus, the captain of the guard, kept Nero grounded, and prevented her own... impetuousness, from bringing ruin to the Empire."

"Why didn't you kill her?" I ask, still processing the news I've been given.

"I tried, at first. I came to our lesson one day with a dagger in the sleeve of my toga, ready to slit her throat and save Rome. But..." he hesitates, and then continues in a far softer tone. "She was so young. And she trusted me. I thought, perhaps, that I could guide her. That I could teach her to be an emperor. That, perhaps, I could save her." He laughs bitterly. "You can see how well that's turned out. She had Agrippina executed earlier this year. Burrus died not long after, and though they claim it was natural causes, I have my doubts. I'm the last of us three still living, and I don't doubt that she'll find a reason to have me disposed of soon. Even now, The Beast is growing within her. I shudder to think at what she'll become without me to rein her in." He pauses, and then turns to look at us, eyes full of hope and fear at the same time. "Have you come to kill her?"

I can't bring myself to look at him. "No."

"I suppose that would be too much to ask of anyone."

Once he's gone, I bring my hand up to my ear. "Roman? Did you get all of that?"

"Yeah." he sounds utterly shaken. "This... could be a problem."

"No shit." I look up at the stars, sprinkled across the night sky. In the amphitheater in the distance, bright torches burn, and The Beast revels with all of Rome.
 
Thank you for that, genuinely. People would always just explain it as "Heroic Spirit strong, Servant weak version" and your breakdown of it was agreat help to understanding the whole thing.

I'll still, however, posit that while Nero may not have had Charisma, the Servant skill, when she was still alive, she was charismatic, that her very actions, words, and character as a person would make you look up to her.

In the amphitheater in the distance, bright torches burn, and The Beast revels with all of Rome.
Okay but this just reminded me that one of Nero's aliases is the Beast, brought on by his persecution of the Christians living in Rome

...those torches don't happen to be, you know, people wrapped in linen and covered with oil??
 
Thank you for that, genuinely. People would always just explain it as "Heroic Spirit strong, Servant weak version" and your breakdown of it was agreat help to understanding the whole thing.

I'll still, however, posit that while Nero may not have had Charisma, the Servant skill, when she was still alive, she was charismatic, that her very actions, words, and character as a person would make you look up to her.


Okay but this just reminded me that one of Nero's aliases is the Beast, brought on by his persecution of the Christians living in Rome

...those torches don't happen to be, you know, people wrapped in linen and covered with oil??
Not yet.

Give it time, though. After all, who can say no to Nero?
 
Thank you for that, genuinely. People would always just explain it as "Heroic Spirit strong, Servant weak version" and your breakdown of it was agreat help to understanding the whole thing.

I'll still, however, posit that while Nero may not have had Charisma, the Servant skill, when she was still alive, she was charismatic, that her very actions, words, and character as a person would make you look up to her.
Happy to help, I love the lore of the series, so its fun to share stuff like how Emiya Shirou is essentially on the verge of developing into a magical Juggernaut at the end of Unlimited Bladeworks Good End, or even during the Holy Grail War if he played his cards right. It's a shame he gets taught the 'proper way' to use magecraft by Rin instead of finishing his last incomplete technique, but hey, that's what fanfics are for :D

As for Nero in this point in time within the fic, she's earnest, flamboyant, domineering, authoritarian, endearing and much more besides, but as far as outright Charismatic, in either servant terms or human ones? Strip away her imperial titles and her subjects, and she's pretty much a hyperactive, energetic, flamboyant klutz, kinda like the unholy lovechild of Ruby, Yang and Nora from Rwby, with a light dash of Weiss and Blake to supplement her Imperial aspects.
 
Last edited:
Chapter 42
Right. Nero turning out to have secretly been some sort of humanoid abomination ripped out of the pages of Lovecraft aside, the mission stays the same. We need to keep her alive, keep Rome alive, and kill whoever's behind this Singularity (fingers crossed for Lev!)

Which means that when Nero corners me the morning after I interrogated Seneca, I need a half-decent excuse for blueballing her.

"Ah. Mercenary! I was wondering where you went off to last night!" she calls in a tone as cold as ice as she strolls into the strategy room.

"Ah. My Emperor. I do dearly regret not having informed you of my departure or my reasons for it." I smile with as much false sincerity as I can manage, ignoring the faint crawling sensation on my skin and the distant whispers in my ears. If Georgios wasn't in attendance with me, I have no doubt that I'd be begging for forgiveness. "I was met on my way back by two of my subordinates, and briefed on a possible threat to the Empire."

"Really?" Shit, she's going to actually ask about it. "Tell me. What was this threat?"

"We had heard rumors that an enemy force had bypassed the army in Gaul, and was marching towards Rome. With the Emperor indisposed, the messenger came to us, and we immediately took the matter to our commander." Georgios interjects smoothly. I really owe the man a raise, or something.

Nero looks just as concerned as I do. "What sources do you have to substantiate these claims?"

"Multiple messengers from cities and villages in Northern Italy came into Rome last night. They claim that a foreign army was marching south, equipped with elephants and Numidian cavalry." Georgios answers calmly.

'Just to be clear, this is a real threat, and not just as wild goose chase for Nero?' I send mentally, as Nero and Seneca both think over their response.

'Yes. I was on my way back to the palace to warn you, since you weren't replying to my telepathic messages, when Galahad found me. He was panicking, and told me of what had happened to you. In the aftermath, my original purpose in seeking you out was somewhat forgotten.'

"My Emperor, this is a dire threat." Seneca mutters, stating the obvious like a pro. "How could this force get past the forces stationed in Gaul?"

"He might not have had to." I interject.

"Treachery?" Nero asks, eyes suddenly bright with rage and bloodlust.

"No." I think for a second. "Were any of their forces in the garb of a Roman legionnaire?"

"No." Georgios informs me, shaking his head. "They were described as being barbarians."

"Then they're not from the United Roman Empire." I begin thinking. "Perhaps I should first explain something, however. Nero. When you were defeated, it was by your uncle, Gaius Caesar, correct?"

"It certainly seemed that way," she agrees. Seneca, for his part, cocks an eyebrow quizzically.

"This is a war like no other." I inform her, getting into my role. "Among our foes and allies stand those who have transcended their mortality and become legends, stronger than they were even in life. Caligula is but one. I have no doubt that this United Roman Empire is led by a coalition of your predecessors."

"But- That's impossible!" Nero asserts, eyes wide. Seneca, although far more stone-faced, nods in agreement.

"There are more things on Heaven and Earth, dear Nero, than are contained in all your vaunted philosophies." You know, I never thought I'd ever have the opportunity to quote Shakespeare at a Roman Emperor. Not gonna lie, I am totally digging this. "The dead walk the land. This is incontrovertible fact. To deny it is to deny reality. Accept what stands before you. Accept what you have seen with your own two eyes, or perish. For only death awaits those that cannot endure the world as it is."

Nero pauses, mulling it over, and then, finally, acquiesces. "Very well. How does this incident fit in with your theory?"

"This new army might instead be the result of a separate legendary figure manifesting, separate from the United Roman Empire. If he did so on Italian soil, he could have easily bypassed what forces you have stationed in Gaul." I postulate.

"An army of legends?" she asks, looking worried.

"Or perhaps a legend of an army." I offer instead. "Or rather, a legend of a man who led an army. Specifically an army that contained elephants, and Numidian cavalry." I look at Nero and Seneca. Seneca, for his part, seems to understand just who I'm hinting at. His eyes widen, and his face slackens slightly.

Nero, for her part, seems to have completely missed my implication. "So? Who is it?"

I sigh, pinch the bridge of my nose, and then just say it flat out. "Hannibal Barca. I think that the enemy leader is Hannibal Barca."

She tilts her head. "Who?"

"I thought you were supposed to be her tutor!" I snap at Seneca, who actually looks slightly embarrassed.

"I was. She simply never listened to things she didn't find interesting," he replies, looking at Nero disappointedly. "Such as Roman history. And the Roman legal code. And economics, tactics, and mathematics."

Nero seems to have zoned out at the mere mention of math, but shakes herself from her stupor. "Your failings as a teacher aside, Seneca." He just sighs. "And I, of course, remember everything important about what you've taught me, in spite of your grievous errors. Of course I know who Hannibal Barca is! Mercenary, as a barbarian, your knowledge of our history is clearly faulty. Tell us what you know of Hannibal Barca, and I shall fact-check." She preens.

Deep breaths, Charlie, no punching the Emperor for her blatant stupidity. No matter how much you really, really want to. "Hannibal Barca was one of the greatest enemies Rome ever faced. As a boy, he bore witness to the end of the First Punic War, and his native Carthage's humiliating defeat. Filled with a desire for vengeance, he set his mind to defeating and humbling Rome. During the Second Punic War, he bypassed Rome's naval superiority and invaded Italy by crossing the Alps, in what was easily the most dangerous and brazen strategic maneuver ever employed up to date. With that done, he began to rampage throughout Italy, turning Rome's own clients and allies against them, and crushing every legion sent up against him. He repeatedly marched outside the walls of Rome, and not a single Roman dared emerge to face him. In the end, he was only defeated when Scipio Africanus attacked Carthage directly, forcing his people to recall him from Italy to defend them. With his momentum lost, he was defeated. All the same, the people of Rome's terror of him was practically etched into their souls. The third Punic War, and the razing of Carthage, was largely motivated by fear of a second Hannibal."

Nero is staring at the wall, eyes glazed over. I sigh, and then rap my knuckles against her forehead, which jolts her back to alertness. "Or, in terms you can understand: Hannibal strong. Hannibal bad. Hannibal hate Rome. That work for you?"

"I find that you know what you're talking about, mercenary, although your understanding, of course, pales next to my own." Must. Not. Punch. Nero. Must. Not. Punch. Nero. "But what does this Hannibal fellow want from us? Is he a potential ally?"

As I draw back to hit her, a messenger bursts in. Georgios takes advantage of the distraction to physically restrain me from slugging the Emperor.

"Emperor Nero! I come bearing dire news!" the messenger- hey, is that Antonius again? Small world! "An army of barbarians have taken Pisa! Their leader sent an open letter onwards to Rome!"

"Well, read it!" she snaps. I'm jolted out of my burning need to smack the idiot by my own curiosity about said letter, and so, decide to table punching Nero for another day.

"To the butchers of Rome-

I'm quite certain you never expected to see me again. Never expected to see your vengeance made manifest, the ultimate cost of your pride and your brutality. But I live anew, and I will be your doom. My home, my Carthage, is charred rubble amidst salted fields. My people are slaves or rotting corpses piled high in mass graves. So tremble, for once more I shall make our two states equals.

None shall be spared. Nothing shall remain. I will burn your city and salt your fields, and lay your corpses out in great unburied piles for the crows. Make peace with your gods, and entreat them for mercy if it so pleases you, for I have none.

Roma Delenda Est,
Hannibal Barca"

"So, not a potential ally," Nero muses as the rest of us stand in stunned silence.

Fuck it. I begin rhythmically banging my head against the table.
 

Users who are viewing this thread

Back
Top