[h1]Rider[/h1]
[h2]Franz Burine Plaza[/h2]

Rider let out a deep sigh as the walls rapidly solidified around her. Leaning on her scepter, her mind began racing. Her borrowed tactical sense was greatly amplified within the walls of her palace, and she knew she wouldn’t necessarily be safe within it. Still, that was not the thought process she wanted to impart to the survivors. With a turn and a bright smile, she spoke up over the small crowd.

“Don’t worry! You will all be safe now. Anyone under these walls has my protection.”

Despite her battered state, Rider’s eyes still gleamed with charisma. Even to the most cognizant among the crowd, it was difficult to disbelieve those words. As the Empress turned toward the crowd, however, she realized how bad their situation truly was. More had been struck by weapons than she had previously guessed. Sword, daggers, spears, and arrows riddled many of the survivors. The aura of the Winter Palace and their impromptu Russian citizenship granted them life and relief for the moment, but their injuries were severe. Upon noticing this, Catherine’s eyes were drawn to another casualty of Berserker’s attack: Brilliant still lay on the ground, frustratedly biting at the broadsword embedded in his leg.

Sophie’s feet crossed the floor toward her injured mount a bit more slowly than she would’ve liked. She was still weak, though the restorative effects of the palace were slowly helping. As she knelt down beside Brilliant, she felt a burst of static electricity run down her spine. Her connection to her Master alerted her to the fact that Naoko was in danger. She frowned for a moment, biting at her lower lip.

[i]“I will try to help as soon as I can, Naoko. If you can make it within the palace walls you’ll be safe.”[/i]

Rider’s eyes pored over the broadsword of pitted steel that she had removed from Brilliant’s leg. A Noble Phantasm. Her gaze turned toward the crowd again. All of the weapons were Noble Phantasms. Rider approached. They would need a plan if the attack continued… and Catherine expected it would.

Outside, more structures rose up from the expanding blue-green shadow that radiated out from the palace. Silver snowflake flitted about in the chilly breeze. The individual rooms began to conjoin themselves into a more proper palace.

[i][b]BOOM[/b][/i]

Berserker’s club slammed into the immense oaken doors. The wood creaked in protest, but held up against the strike, as if in sheer arrogance. Inside, Rider took a deep breath. The time had come. Here, she would live, or she would die. The club struck again. There was a resounding crack. A third strike filled the room with the sound of rending wood tearing through the air like a thunderbolt. The gates gave way, their vindictive resistance unable to hold up against raw force. The bright candle light within flickered, and snowflakes poured in from outside as the King of Zeland entered the Winter Palace.

Catherine stood in the center of the room, the pale marble of the floor reflecting her figure. She still wore the battered and bloodstained guard uniform she worn into the battle. Her right arm still hung limply at her side. In her left hand, she clutched a rugged broadsword of pitted steel. A crown on glittering diamonds rested on her head. Two large cannon stood on either side of the Empress, pointed toward the mad warrior. Rider leveled the blade and called out to her intruder, her chestnut locks fluttering in the wind.

“You stand upon Russian territory, Berserker.”

As the dust settled, though, she saw the state of her opponent. Her eyes grew wide for a moment, her lips flattening into a line. Her gaze shifted from Berserker to the weapon she now held, then back to the savage warrior. She nodded, eyes closing for a moment in solemn understanding.

“But if that much damage will not deter you, then neither will my words. I see now that I contend with a special determination. You too know the weight of a crown.”

The cannon began to glow red-hot, magical energy pouring into them in a deluge. Rider’s hand gripped the hilt of the broadsword more tightly, the guns on either side of her sparkling with electricity as small cracks began to form. 

The light within the palace dimmed to the pale glow of embers. 

“Come then, Heathen King! I welcome you to the Winter Palace!”

The crowd behind the Empress was partially obscured by the sudden darkness. Straining eyes watched with bated breath. Brilliant whinnied in frustration, attempting to rise upon his wounded leg. Those who had previously been wounded seemed to be in a better state now that the weapons had been removed, and a few regained consciousness just as the doors came crashing in, utterly bewildered.

Rider’s eyes glared gold as the guns prepared to fire, shuddering with magical energy. In the dark, it was difficult to recognize that Rider’s skin was rapidly growing pale. The overexertion would have to continue just a bit longer. Catherine’s own reserves were nearly tapped. She had drawn in some from Naoko, and the Palace itself was now beginning to supply her as well. She prayed it was enough. As she prepared for the coming attack, she whispered.

“Ivan. Boris. Michael. Peter. Elizabeth…”
The crown on the Empress’ head radiated pale silver light. Small embers formed on her uniform.

“... Catherine.”