Cu Chulainn

Fate/Factitious Paradigm

Theoderic the Great's true Noble Phantasm is now revealed in honor to commemorate his oncoming death. Spoiler alert, he is definitely actually a Saber.

Mimung (True)

Mimung
Sword of Deceitful Victory

Type: Anti-Unit

Rank: C+
Range: 1, (1~3)

Maximum Number of Targets: 1

"You have pushed me into revealing this blade's true nature. You aren't prepared...
"Mimung!"

The beautiful gold-encrusted sword belonging to Witege, a knight who had once bested Rider in single combat using this sword, and who had later betrayed him by swearing fealty to his nemesis, Ermenrich. Crafted by Weyland the Smith, Witege's father, Mimung sports a slightly shorter blade than a normal knight's sword, suited for Witege's backstabbing nature. It is a finely crafted blade of magical nature, its sharp edge rivaling even the greatest of swords. In Rider's hands, however, the blade is capable of nullifying the special magical characteristics of armor. That is, to say, if this blade were to meet an opponent's plate mail, they would have to rely on its durability and craftsmanship, alone, to defend against this attack. Witege was able to shatter Rider's magical helmet with this blade, and later on, Rider had borrowed this blade to defeat Siegfreid in a duel. It is a blade that assures its wielder's victory by ignoring its opponent's defenses, although this isn't the true nature of Mimung.

When Mimung's true name is invoked, its true nature is realized. A burst of golden light surges from the blade's guard and extends outward, crackling with energy and creating a blade of projected light, extending its reach. While this blade of energy is active, Mimung carries the concept of cutting, slicing through even the mightiest of defenses like cloth. With a Master who sports an average mana supply, Rider would only be able to sustain this blade for one or two attacks, but if he were to have a steady supply of mana while Mimung is active, this effect is able to last as long as ten turns.

Weyland had originally crafted Mimung for the cruel king Nidung, whom, after seeing it seamlessly slice through a piece of wood three feet square in thickness, said that he would not want any other blade. Indeed, Mimung's sharpness would rival even the blades crafted by a certain Eastern blacksmith, which was how the hero known as Witege was able to rise from a commoner to one of Rider's best knights.

Fate/Factitious Paradigm

Black Rider

Einzbern Forest

---

@Paradox Witch@Kyuuzen@Crusader Lord

Rider was in a foul mood. Throughout the war, he had hoped to find a challenge worthy of his legend. He was uninterested in facing off lesser foes, having sought out only those worthy to face the mettle of his blade. In the end, however, while he had found a warrior, no, a dragon worthy of facing him, he chose to instead focus on retreating, as if he treated their battle as some mere joke. His other rival, who had looked rather weary from their last fight, had also lost his weapon that night, and the idea of fighting him without that spear would give Rider a feeling of discomfort. Rider's anger only festered throughout the night as evident by the many trees brought down before him. Even his loyal steed, Falke, looked to Rider, worried of his prince's well-being.

"Falke, let's get going. If I couldn't find that bastard knight and his little lover in Shinto, it only narrows down our choic-"

... Rider froze in his tracks as soon as he felt that presence. He felt... greatness, as if he were to face off against another paragon of humanity; and yet, it wasn't something that pleased Rider. Not at all. As soon as he felt the land metaphorically singing praises and heralding the man that had come after him had Rider known that this opponent was somebody he does not want to face. There was nothing, however, that could stop Rider from fleeing. It was not in his nature to run, and there was something else about that man that called to Rider.

It was an opponent that he must face, as much as he shouldn't.

The name he was beckoned with. The command that was given to him. The blessed looking armor. The sickly red sword. The sword. These factors about his opponent had all confirmed Rider's suspicions as to who he was facing. If he wasn't the man that he was, he would find it right to run, to flee from such a man, one who had walked with the footfalls of an empire, but he could not find it within him to run. As a matter of fact, he was almost physically unable to, feeling the pressure of his opponent's, that Emperor's call to arms. This fight was going to happen, whether or not Rider chose for it to happen.

Such a command also had the effect of making Rider even angrier.

"... Let's make this worth our time." Rider had growled through gritted teeth as he looked to his opponent, drawing that traitorous knight's blade once again. He briefly considered drawing his shield, as well, but it was a thought that was quickly dismissed. Indeed, if he were to face off against that man who had fought and overpowered the King of Knights despite being otherwise ordinary, then he would require the full control of his blade and his body to defend, to avoid his attacks. Even without his instincts, Rider knew enough that he would not want to take his chances against the strikes from that sword.

And, with a burst of his own energy, Rider had charged towards that Saber. On his way way there, orbs of dragon's fire, intensified by Rider's growing rage, had been thrown to his opponent. It was a flurry of flames with the power to best most men, yet at the same time, Rider had only used them as a means of a distraction. If this Saber he was facing truly was the Sword Emperor, then even Rider's flames would serve as a mere nuisance to him, an inconvenience at the most.

Rider needed his opponent's senses to be occupied, after all, in order to perform his next attack. Rider's sword, which he held with both hands, began to crackle with golden lightning as he made his way closer to his opponent, and when he was close enough- which would still be considered many meters too far from the range of Rider's blade- he had shouted that dastardly blade's name.

_{Sword of Deceitful Victory}
"Mimung!"

With Rider's call, the energy crackling within the blade coalesced into a sustained beam of light, the energy surrounding it being converted into true ether in order to maintain its shape. The blade of light had extended Mimung's effective range into that comparable to a spear's, and Rider had chosen to take advantage of this blade's aspect while he can. As soon as Lucius Tiberius was in range of Mimung, Rider would cleave it through his opponent, aiming to bisect him; a slash with the intent to kill.

The true effect of Mimung is to cleave through armor as if it were cloth, the energized sword pouring out from his blade carrying the concept of 'cutting'. It was with this effect combined with the method Rider used it to nullify the magical defenses of his opponent that made his attack much more dangerous to his opponent. As soon as his slash was completed, whether it managed to strike Saber true or not, Rider had shifted his stance into a defensive one, placing his blade in front of him in a matter where he would be able to quickly intercede any attacks made by his opponent with it, provided that Saber had made the distance, something that Rider wouldn't allow. His goal in this fight is to maintain an aggressive defense, taking advantage of everything he can to defend against Saber's attacks while capitalizing on any openings he could find. Saber wasn't an opponent he was interesting in gauging, instead focusing on killing him as soon as possible while making sure that Rider, himself, was not hit.

Rider's instincts flared as they prepared to help him engage in a battle he could so easily lose...

Fate/Factitious Paradigm

Fujimura Syndicate

Native District, Miyama

---

@Sageage@Argonaut@Seirei no Hai@Floodtalon

The Yakuza focused on entrenching themselves into what territory they had, making sure to keep control of their larger places of operation while migrating away from the smaller ones. As they traveled throughout the night, in groups, to the larger territories they owned, they focused more on protecting the refugees under their belt than they did with whatever resources they had previously. They were forced to travel light, after all, looking to get to their destinations as fast as possible. On the bright side, they had the aid of two exceptional martial artists; the Horse of Fuyuki, and, uh... a foreign girl named Riyu. However, between the rioters, the Mafia, and rumors of a bloodsucker roaming the streets, the Yakuza were having a rough time. They would accept just about any help given to them at this point...

... Except for some Mafia handouts. The Fujimura Syndicate ain't no rats!

---

Hours Ago...

---

Marching through the wasteland known formerly as Miyama Town was a man, one whose greatness rivals the vastness of the plains that he walked. He wore a long, white coat with its collar popped, mostly plain aside from the writing printed on the back in an Eastern script; it would read '藤•村', or in English, 'FUJI•MURA'. Underneath this coat was nothing but a pair of trousers, revealing some of the man's expectantly toned physique. His trousers were made of denim, a rather rare fashion choice for a man of this era, especially in the East, as they clung somewhat tightly to his legs. It was unknown if his belt buckle, a horseshoe pointing up, was a symbol of fortune, a callback to a fond memory, or just a love for horseback riding. His boot, which were embroidered in a way similar to the ones seen in the American West, indicated that it might have been the latter, with only a pair of spurs keeping the ensemble from being complete.

None of these things, however, were as notable as the man's hair. Standing upright and shining as the sun's rays bounced off it, it served as some sort of insignia, or symbol that would best identify the man in question. Like the top of a mountain, the roof of a skyscraper, or the sorin of a pagoda, it stood tall. It was a sandy brown beacon of human providence, hopes and dreams piled high on its bushy peak. It was a pompadour, a hairstyle that, while unpopular in the current age, would soon be the iconic symbol in the future for an age of cool. It was a fitting hairstyle for a man who has become 'human prosperity given form.'

As the man continued traversing the wastes, the sun had begun to shine over his face to a point where even his glorious could not shade his eyes from its bright rays, he simply dug a hand into his coat pocket. From it, he produced a pair of spectacles, tinted black, in a style that's so not fitting the current era; indeed, it wasn't that it was 'too modern,' no, but that it was 'too cool' for the current time period. Putting the sun-glasses on, the man once known as Gin Yoshiyaki marched forth for his destination, no longer blinded by the bright future ahead of him...

---

FUJIMURA

'DDD' Hot Springs, Miyama Town

---

@Phonic

"Sorry fer being late, boys... hope you all had your fun while I was away. It looks like you did some great work with the architecture 'ere, but now we've gotta do our duty. The Native District's all over the place, and it's our job to fix it. I can't rebuild Fuyuki on my own, so we gotta do it together! Put your glasses on and let's get to it!"

Re: Zero: The High Council

'Father Whiskey'

'Starting Location', Priestella

---

@FamishedPants@Letter Bee, but I guess also @Phonic@Red Alice

While the bloodshed was happening, Jameson was quite surprised, at first. He almost fell out of his seat at the surprisingly realistic display of violence he had just witnessed. He didn't know what he was getting himself into, but he was still ready to break out his secret weapon. His hand hovered over his jacket pocket, ready to pull it out at a moment's notice should that monster of a woman get any closer to him. Placing his hand on that, he began to-

...

"... Woah, what?"

Jameson found himself in the very same room, just like how it was before. Same doors, same chairs, heck, even the kids are everywhere! Well, they were 'everywhere' in a different sense of the word, but still. Standing up from his chair and laughing, the priest started clapping at the obvious performance these two have displayed. He was overjoyed, which was odd based on the scene that had been played before him from his very eyes. His reaction was... quite unrealistic, to be fair. Then again, he is the most characteristic of the three, being a priest who smokes indoors, in front of children and all.

"So this is what you kids call 'Call of Duty,' then? Or wait, there aren't any guns, are they? Is this that 'Sky Rum' game, then? Heh... sure, sure, I'll play along. Looks fun!" Jameson rung, joyfully, making his way to one of the doors in the far corners of the hall, opposite of the 'entrance.' While he made his way inside whatever that room entailed, he started making remarks asking why his dad ever banned that 'Dragons With Dungeons' game from the house when he was younger.

Fate/Factitious Paradigm

_{HERO.PNG is loading...}

Gin Yoshiyaki

Rule #101, Strive

---

@Paradox Witch

"Oh, I see, Ite I see... so it has to come to this, then?!" Gin placed his hand on the handle of his blade, looking at the wall of a man before him. Gin expected it, he anticipated it... hell, it's what he asked for, after all! Gritting his teeth as he unsheathed his blade, Gin let out a battle cry before charging forth and striking a warrior's pose.

He had no intention of attacking Hercules. It wasn't cool to strike down someone without any provocation, after all. Instead, he decided to show off his own exquisite swordplay to match his opponent. Performing a warrior's dance with his blade, Gin shouted mightily, displaying to his opponent a mix of strength and grace, a piece of his clothing tearing away with each stroke. Of course, it was only natural, after all, as Gin's body become more and more perfect as he continued his performance, and the larger his muscles got, the less room he had for his clothes. This performance until they were all off, save his underwear...

At that point, Gin's body itself, has reached the pinnacle of perfection. His biceps bulging, his abs toned, his pompadour as straightened up as it could ever be. Gin has made it to the pedestal of cool, both technically and literally, since aside from his lack of clothes, he had also built up quite a sweat. Still, however, despite showcasing his skills with the blade, it wasn't enough...

Throwing his katana to the side and grabbing a bundle of talismans conveniently tucked into the side of his underwear, Gin started to make it rain upward, throwing each of his talismans into the sky as they slowly flutter down. Before they can all reach the ground, however, Gin moved to make one more pose.

"Ignite!"

Gin struck his own pose, flexing with all he could muster, yet at the same time not showing any sign of struggle. The talismans in the air all burst into flames of different colors, like fireworks, adding a mesmerizing shine to the sheen of sweat already draping Gin's god-blessed body. To Gin, he had surpassed the limit of cool so much so that a strange modern construct made out of stained glass hovered slowly over his eyes...

---

_HERO.PNG

"Who's the coolest now?!"

---

Fate/Factitious Paradigm

_{HERO.PNG is loading...}

Gin Yoshiyaki

Rule #96, Aim

---

@Paradox Witch

"You know, if that shit about dying were a joke, I'd be using a command seal to have ya stay sober for the rest of the war, Ite!" Gin told Chiron, scratching his nose with a thumb. He had a grin on his face that was different from when he began. No longer was he seeing these tests as something to pass and move along, but as experiences to absorb and to learn from. He even felt like he was getting used to Chiron's tricks, at this point...

No, no he wasn't. That's a dangerous train of thought to have.

Looking at the challenge before him, Gin crossed his arms, laughing heartily. He stood there, keeping ever so stoic at these spirits struck at him, unafraid of death. He had already died, once, and he had learned that even his own death will be necessary, should the time come. That being said, however, this was not his time...

Grabbing a single talisman from his jacket pocket and holding it between his two fingers, he looked out at the gathering of spirits before him. "Come forth." Gin said, calmly, as a large swarm of shikigami, numbering in the hundreds, slowly flew out from the fog behind him, hovering just a few inches behind Gin. A majority of them held talismans of binding, while the lesser half held talismans of exorcising. Gin was going to approach this next problem with an overwhelming attack while at the same time reducing collateral. If he were to bind most of these spirits, he'll be able to more easily pinpoint the ones filled with grudges while at the same time minimizing the damage dealt to the normal spirits, themselves.

And of course, before he fired, he raised the talisman he drew out moments before, raising it high. Gin trusted both his intuition and his bountiful luck, but even then, he needed some extra insurance, even though it would matter little for this method of attack. If anything, it's just more cherries to add to his overkill sundae.

"Guide us."

The shikigami all rushed forth, those tasked with binding holding most of the spirits in place while the others tasked with exorcising met their marks. Gin crossed his arms, once again, throwing his head back and taking joy in his overwhelming attack. Creating shikigami of this amount all at once was something only capable within this training montage, after all, and one of the many valuable lessons Gin learned from all this was to find happiness even in the most troubling of times.

Plus, it looked cool, too.

Fate/Factitious Paradigm

_{HERO.PNG is loading...}

Gin Yoshiyaki

Rule #89, Die

---

@Paradox Witch

... What?
Wait...
No!
NO!
Ite, you bastard!
What the hell?!
What the hell...
What...
... No.
But... I didn't... I didn't get to...

_ERROR!

Who, again?

Rule #89, Die

---

Gin stood there, stabbed through the chest. The pain continued to shock through his body, not from the blade, but from his heart. It was a feeling of regret. Of sorrow. Of loss. Of rage. Of betrayal. So many things added to Gin's pain, and so many things made the pain so much harder to deal with. Soon, Gin's knees started to give out on him, followed by a fountain of blood, gushing through out of his mouth.

And before he realized it, before he could do anything, before he could save anyone, Gin had died...

... No.

I won't allow this...

I can't!

Gin's arm moved on its own, keeping him from falling to the ground. The grim, cold chill of death that had already surrounded most of his body was kept at bay from the fire within his heart. Deep within him, Gin doesn't want to die. He can't die! He has so much to live for! Slowly pulling the sword out of his chest, Gin raised it into the air, screaming his teacher's name with what little strength he could muster. He swung the sword in his hand, left and right as his eyes searched for his teacher. Even after his arm keeping him up gave out, even after he fell on his face, eve after everything felt numb, that arm still kept moving, kept swinging, his rage unending...

"CHIRON!"

"I'LL... I'll kill you..."

"This... this isn't... cool...

_Die.

Fate/Factitious Paradigm

_{HERO.PNG is loading...}

Gin Yoshiyaki

Rule #31, Deviate

---

@Paradox Witch

As more of these trials were completed, Gin gradually got the hang of them all. With each trial, he focused on being flashy, showing off the new knowledge of his own magecraft that he learned from the first half of the war and applying it to look as good as possible. It felt good that he was actually able to show off his magecraft in a meaningful way, even though this was all essentially just a simulation. And while his boys weren't there, in body, to help them out, Gin was glad that he still had them helping him overcome these challenges in spirit...

But this. This is definitely deviating from the other trials Gin has faced.

Gin looked around as the chaos ensued. He was worried, though he had already learned not to convey that through his expression easily, looking stoic as ever as he tried to figure out how to handle this issue. There was nothing he could blast or use his katana on... it was just chaos, itself. No form, no face, nothing to target...

Gin thought of calling for his boys to handle this, but at the same time, what would happen if his orders were to get them killed? With this wanton slaughter going about, calling his friends for help wouldn't be a great decision if he really was worried of their lives. No, Gin had to figure it out on his own. As Chiron's voice guided him, reminding him that all the issues he's solved were from his own personal power, implying that he should use an outside force to help him solve this issue, Gin began to think of the rule, itself. To deviate is to depart from an established course... and to Gin, it seemed like his teacher was trying to establish a course for him by suggesting against his personal power...

With a flick of his wrists, more talismans flew out of his sleeves, throwing one to each corner at the ends of this fantasized riot. Taking one last talisman out, Gin began to embed within it his own 'self' into it, unknowingly copying his origin into this talisman. Throwing his talisman up in the air, Gin shouted the magic words, and completed his spell, using his affinity with Soil to establish a foundation in the area based on his self. Gin's rationale, in this case, was that since he is the coolest around, if he were to impose that on the chaos that is happening, then everyone around him would also begin to chill out. He couldn't reason with them if they weren't all mellowed out, of course...

"Look at yerselves, everyone! Look at what 'yer doing! Turnin' on yourselves and killin' eachother... that ain't cool, y'know! How can we be cool if we're just thinking of ourselves?! We have to work together, eat together, and live together! Peace, love, and friendship... that's what's cool in this world! The true enemy is chaos, so we gotta chill out, hold hands, and rally against this unseen threat!"

Stretching his hands outward, Gin closed his eyes, confident that the once rampant mob will make peace with each other.

Fate/Factitious Paradigm

_{HERO.PNG is loading...}

Gin Yoshiyaki

Rule #16, Struggle

---

@Paradox Witch

Gin had instantly felt the pressure pulling him to the ground. So far, these trails were nauseating, as Gin was thrown from different conflicts, different fights, different encounters... He wasn't even close to halfway complete and he felt like throwing up. Of course, it didn't help that the thing in front of him began to force him to his feet with some sort of authority Gin, himself, struggled to fight through. He couldn't even keep his head up. Looking to the ground after having being forced to, however, made Gin realize something about this rule...

Below him was a puddle, one just hazy enough for Gin to see his reflection. Damn, I look ugly struggling, huh... Gin thought to himself, before raising his head back up to that amalgam of the many things he hates about the war. "Heh... I look just like you, right now, do I?

"... Well, as much as I want to look like the wrong side of an asshole, I don't think it'd be cool if I just kept lookin' like you, now, huh?!"

And so, Gin struggled to keep himself up, slowly raising himself up. He willed himself to move, not out of a fighting spirit, but out of the desire, the wish to keep looking cool. There were others watching; his boys, the citizens of Fuyuki, and maybe some pretty ladies here and there. Gin couldn't look weak or disgusting in front of them. He first had to look cool in order to be cool.

Gin continued to struggle, not moving forward or backward, but in place, spreading his feet shoulder-length apart, keeping his knees slightly bent, and holding his sword with two hands, looking at the conglomeration of his hatred right into its eyes. Finally, with a smirk, Gin remained in what he thought was a cool stance, his sword raised above his head and pointed towards his foe. His arms and limbs shook as they continued to stay in place. Gin could only grit his teeth as he grinned, once again, struggling to stay cool, even in the face of terror.

Fate/Factitious Paradigm

_{HERO.PNG is loading...}

Gin Yoshiyaki

Rule #10, Protect

---

@Paradox Witch

The voices of his men calling out for his help assaulted Gin from many different directions. It was an all-out attack on his conscience, tugging at him to make a choice. It was as if they were aiming to tear him apart if he didn't make his choice right away. As these choices threw some weight on his shoulders, the regret piled more onto him. Regrets of what he couldn't do and who he couldn't save...

But rule ten wasn't 'Regret'. Rule ten is to 'Protect'. Focusing on that speed that he saw being displayed by the Fastest Hero earlier this same day, Gin attempted to force himself to solve all three problems at once.

First, Gin came to deal with the fire. Extending a hand outward, Gin began to shout commands as his magic circuits flared. "Attack!" At his command, a swarm of origami swans flew out from his sleeves. They were shikigami, a symbol of power in Onmyoudou, and they were all carrying talismans blessed with Gin's intrinsic luck. His intent was to fight a curse with a blessing. And to appease the grudges contained within the fire, Gin drew three talismans, throwing them up in the air as they floated above him, before drawing a fourth. And so, he began to chant a Shinto prayer, each of his talismans glowing with power as he attempted to exorcise the souls contained within the fire. As his prayers came to their conclusion, a bright flash of light brought Gin to the next scene...

Standing above a building overlooking the citizens and the foreigners, Gin held his sword in front of him, sheathed and pointed to the ground. The four talismans floating above him now began to spin in a circle around Gin, as if he had prepared another spell. "Alright, boys! And remember, if they look like they're tryna do the funky monkey or anythin', just put one of those red talismans on their foreheads! I'll make sure tha' fire doesn't scorch ya!" Tapping his sword by his feet, the ten brave men standing behind Gin all gave a collective "Aye, boss!" before leaping into the chaos as Gin, once again, worked on keeping the flames back. They all wore straw hats, each tagged with talismans; three of which to protect them against most forms of magecraft, and a fourth to bless them with a bit of the same good luck Gin has. As they made their way through the crowd, they all began to rally the civilians, leading them all inside the building Gin was standing on top of. To those who seemed to be under the effects of hypnosis, a talisman was placed on their heads as a means of helping them snap out of it. Any prospective magus who was spotted trying to take advantage of this situation in some way was brought down with a thunderous crack, their death delivered swiftly by one of the few snipers spread out around the rooftops.

Standing in an empty street as the moon had shined its azure light upon them, Gin stood face to face with the beast as it glared into his eyes, mockingly. Grinning back at the monster, Gin combed his fingers through his hair, once, before drawing his katana. "I won't let ya harm my boys or my people no more, ya ugly motherfucker!" With a flick of his wrist, a couple of talismans flew into his empty hand out from his sleeve as he threw them all simultaneously. "Flame on!" Gin shouted, as each of the talismans all started to burst into mere bolts of flames as they all aimed to scorch the monster. It was simple destructive magecraft, but it was easy to bring forth due to Gin's affinity with Fire, the element of destruction, and strengthened with invocations of the kami of fire, Kagutsuchi. As the beast was buffeted with flames, Gin drew another talisman, throwing it up in front of his own face as it hovered over his forehead. "Ignite!" Gin shouted, once again, allowing the spirits to divine the best path for him to approach the monster as he charged forward, his katana raised...