Fate/Brothers in Destiny

Chapter 14: Fitting Punishment

FATE/BROTHERS IN DESTINY

Chapter 14: Fitting Punishment

Sigurd and Brynhildr were about 100 meters apart from each other, still mounted on their steeds. They stared into each other's eyes, despite there being such a great distance between them. They were as close as embracing lovers, yet as far apart as complete strangers living on opposite corners of the world. It was difficult to describe the tension between them, having fallen in love with each other while they were alive – or rather, in this time and place. They had to remember that their living versions were still out there and had not met each other yet.

Sigurd raised Gram to his side. Brynhildr raised Brynhildr Romantia to her side. They were mirrors to each other. One would fight to preserve the inevitable future that awaited them. The other sought to destroy any possibility of them meeting.

Sigurd thought he was going to be sick, and it took every ounce of courage he had not to succumb to the despair welling inside him. Even though Brynhildr was mad with love and thus didn't think the same way as most people, he still possessed his reasoning and logic. Right now though, he wished his mind really wasn't as clear as the ice around them. Falling into some kind of insanity of his own would make this battle a lot easier to stomach for him. He genuinely had a difficult time understanding how Brynhildr would kill the people she loved. To him, love was supposed to be about nurturing and fostering relationships, not about killing each other to preserve what few good feelings remained between them.

Alas, he had a job to do as Frigg's Servant. The goddess was counting on him to stop this crisis, and he would do whatever it took to get the job done.

Without a word, both warriors charged their horses toward each other. Their weapons shone intensely as they drew nearer to each other. They let out the most feral battle cries they could muster.

BOOM!

A fantastic explosion of blues and violets sent snow flying everywhere. The legendary weapons clashed with power that could only be described as god-like. Both stallions went flying off in opposite directions, stunned by the incredible force violently pushing them away. The Servants jumped off their mounts and landed close to each other, their weapons still pulsing with energy. Brynhildr silently floated into the air and raised her spear above her. Sigurd clenched his teeth, knowing what this meant – she was going to use her Noble Phantasm on him. Even worse, it was going to be its most powerful against him specifically, since it was the manifestation of her tragic love for him. It was said that the spear could weigh 5000 kilograms at maximum love, meaning he would have to contend against 5 tons of sheer force.

In response, he stood tall and made Gram vanish for a moment, then generated a series of small aqua daggers that he used his fists to launch toward her. Then Gram returned to him and he likewise punched it at her. His idea was that instead of trying to overcome a spear that could kill even the mightiest of gods, he would go around it and strike down Brynhildr herself.

The mythril spear of love and hate, versus the demonic sword of glory and ruin... It was hard to say which one was mightier. Both of them shouted the Noble Phantasms' True Names, their voices echoing in the hollow winter winds:

"Brynhildr Romantia!"

"Bolverk Gram!"

****

The piercing sounds of metal striking metal reverberated throughout the outer borders of Copenhagen. Cuchulainn and Vlad were already in the midst of a heated battle, slashing at each other with the ferocity of wild beasts. Cuchulainn clearly had the advantage in terms of raw strength, but at the detriment of only having a singular spear to wield. On the other hand, Vlad could make dozens of miniature lances appear from his body and all around the ground at will. Cuchulainn flipped away from his opponent when a volley of spikes converged upon him, threatening to pierce him everywhere.