Fate/Lunasa Fomhar

Chapter 20: Souls of Nations

FATE/LÚNASA FÓMHAR

"August Harvest"

Chapter 20: Souls of Nations

"RRRAAAAGH!" Ashwatthama let out his fiercest battle cry as he ran toward Beowulf. The Scandinavian warrior gleefully curled his hand into a tight fist and threw a punch at his incoming foe. The red-haired man used his chakram as an impromptu shield, then dodged another punch and slammed the huge weapon against Beowulf's back, throwing him several meters away. He tumbled along the ground, then immediately launched himself back at Ashwatthama.

The Indian warrior planted his weapon on the ground and used his foot to propel it at Beowulf like a gigantic spinning wheel. Beowulf crossed his arms to block the chakram, but suddenly had to resist unexpected forces as Ashwatthama rushed in to kick the huge ring again. Beowulf struggled to save himself from being crushed, eventually managing to overcome the Archer's assault by grabbing the chakram, whirling it around like a top while Ashwatthama was still holding on, and tossing it away like a large sack of sand. Everyone present to witness this battle heard a distinct thud in the distance as Ashwatthama and the chakram smashed into a wall.

"Serves you right, chump," Beowulf snarled and cracked his knuckles.

A moment later though, the Indian hero emerged from the wreckage sporting a wide smile. Despite being covered in blood and bruises, as well as being angry beyond belief, he was clearly having a good time. His bloodshot eyes widened as he let out another scream and ran back to fight Beowulf again.

"Hey, hey, are you seriously supposed to be an Archer?" the Berserker uttered in disbelief.

Ashwatthama ignored his quip and used his chakram as a platform to hurl his leg at Beowulf's chest. The kick threw him back-first against a wall, but he focused past the pain to keep himself on his feet as he landed. Ashwatthama raised his weapon and smashed it into the ground where Beowulf was, but the Grendel Slayer rolled aside in time and whipped his ankle against his opponent's. The Indian lost his balance and tumbled onto his knee, allowing Beowulf to get on his hands, raise his leg, then chop it down upon the back of Ashwatthama's neck.

"AAAAGH! YOU BASTARD!" the red-haired hero raged.

Beowulf rolled backwards onto his feet, then brandished his swords Hrunting and Naegling while taunting, "Not exactly fair if only one of us is gonna fight with a weapon. How 'bout I even the stakes a little and show you what a real monster slayer is capable of."

"Bring it on! You'll come to regret messing with a hero of the Mahabharata!"

Both men fiercely glared at each other. Murderous intent literally oozed out of every pore of their bodies, which made the onlookers so terrified that they started running away.

"KYAAA~AAA~AAAHHH!"

Before either of them could even twitch a muscle, they heard a woman's unusually desperate scream. Soon, a young retainer who worked at the palace came rushing through the vicinity with absolute panic in her expression. The Servants knew that she couldn't have been afraid of them, so something else had to be going on to make her run for her very life.

"Lord Ashwatthama! Please help me!" she shrieked and collapsed onto her side.

"What the hell-?" he uttered, but soon saw a large shadow looming over the woman. A horrendously disfigured humanoid lumbered over to her and raised its blunt club, seeking to smash her to death. The other citizens cried out in hysteria and escaped, leaving the lady to meet her fate alone. The moment the club came plummeting upon her though, Ashwatthama got in between them and blocked it with his chakram.