Da Vinci's sacrifice allowed them to escape Lancelot's pursuit. However, Ritsuka and his companions, burdened by the bitterness of this loss, made their way through the crowd of refugees with downcast faces towards Bedivere, who was ahead.
"I saw a strong explosion from the desert side," Bedivere said. "Perhaps you know..."
Glancing at the grim Deadpool and Ritsuka and Mash clinging to him on either side, the knight understood without words what had happened.
"My condolences."
He was sure that his silver hand, Agathlam, would have helped hold back the pursuers, but his body had failed him at the crucial moment. Bedivere felt bitter about his own powerlessness; as a knight, he despised himself for not being able to risk his life to save the righteous.
"Pull yourselves together," Deadpool said casually, releasing Ritsuka and Mash. "It was her choice. And she didn't die. So stop this funeral march, we need to move."
He looked at the kids, tears still in their eyes, and added more seriously: "And don't even think about rushing to save her or get revenge. I understand your feelings, but we have a goal and people to protect. Remember that."
In his heart, he was ready to sacrifice all these holy knights, but his contract with Da Vinci and the need to look after these two cooled his ardor. He had to remain the most sober of them all, no matter how nauseating it was.
"And one more thing, Teddy. Watch the little ones for a second."
"What are you planning?" Bedivere, still looking after the dejected Ritsuka and Mash, watched in bewilderment as Deadpool rummaged in his pockets. Soon, he pulled out something resembling a megaphone.
"Why do you need that?" the knight asked, watching the mercenary fiddle with the device's settings.
"Let's call it a little surprise for the master who will come to meet us."
They reached the Mountain Village without incident. The problem arose where Deadpool had predicted: at the entrance, they were met by the master of these lands, the assassin Old Man of the Mountain, who flatly refused to let the group in.
"I, Hassan of the Hundred Faces, will never let you in," he declared. "We will accept refugees, but you carry too great a threat."
Bedivere found himself in a difficult position. He understood that he looked like one of the Knights of the Holy City, but he resented that Ritsuka and the others were not being let in because of him. Moreover, Deadpool had suddenly disappeared somewhere.
"As soon as the last refugee enters, leave. Otherwise, I will have to use force."
And at that very moment...
"Insignificant Hassan! Come, offer your neck!"
From the thunderous voice that boomed directly from the heavens, Ritsuka's companions involuntarily ducked. But the assassin reacted the most strongly.
"This voice... Pe... First Founder?!"
Hassan shrank in terror. The great master should be in seclusion in his sanctuary – why was his voice sounding from the heavens?
"Fool! Hassan! How dare you, who bear the name of the Old Man of the Mountain, not answer my call!"
"P-forgive me, Great Master!" Hassan fell to his knees and bowed his forehead to the ground. Not understanding where the sound was coming from, he bowed to the empty sky, breaking out in a cold sweat.
"Oh, it worked," Deadpool whispered. Hiding behind a huge boulder, he turned on the "Joji Nakata" voice modulator on the megaphone and continued to broadcast as majestically and sternly as possible:
"G-great Master! Why have you honored this insignificant slave with your attention?"
"How dare you neglect the efforts of these noble souls! They saved the innocent, risking themselves, and came here, renouncing their own lives!"
The stunned Hassan dared not utter a word in his defense. To defy the First Founder meant instant death.
"Why haven't you let them into the village yet?! Hassan, is your status as the Old Man of the Mountain worth so little? I am disappointed. Come, give me your head!"
"G-great Master! If that is your will... I am ready to accept death!"
The suddenly subdued assassin, trembling, obediently offered his neck.
"Eh, no! I mean... In short, let them in! And then I, fine, won't doubt your right to be called the Old Man of the Mountain!"
"T-thank you!"
The situation was resolved in the most unexpected way. Deadpool, delighted by his own cunning, was about to emerge from hiding when suddenly a strange, chilling whisper sounded right next to his ear:
"You dare defile the name of the Old Man of the Mountain... Give me your head..."
"Oops. I turned off the megafo..."
The next moment, Deadpool's head flew off his shoulders.
"Mister Pool? Where are you? A-a-a-ah!!" Bedivere, looking for the mercenary, screamed when he saw his head rolling on the ground.
"Hey, cool it! I'm alive," the head commented casually. "Quick, reattach me to the torso. I knocked all my brains out while rolling."
Deadpool's voice made Bedivere regain some composure. With trembling hands, deathly pale, the knight picked up the head and put it back in place.
"You almost chilled my neck. Alright, let's go."
Deadpool decided not to dwell on the strange incident and, as if nothing had happened, headed into the village under the leadership of the still-shocked Hassan.
The Mountain Village, considered the only refuge for refugees, was hidden so deep in the ravines that from afar it looked like just a pile of barren rocks. In this impregnable place, Arash and Hassan of the Hundred Faces received and protected those fleeing from the oppression of the Holy City and Egypt.
"But this is only a temporary salvation," Hassan admitted, leading them through the streets. "The land here is barren, and provisions are barely enough for survival."
"About that..." Mash, as if remembering something important, set up a shield and drew a summoning circle on the ground. Establishing contact with Romani, they briefly outlined the situation, and Chaldea sent them as many supplies as their current capacity allowed.
"We are grateful to you. But, alas, it is still not enough for the needs of the village."
Chaldea also had its own difficulties and could not transfer more resources. Ritsuka, thinking it would be good to at least prepare something truly hearty and delicious from what they had, raised his hand with the command spells.
"Kid, what are you up to?" Deadpool squinted.
"I want to summon Archer."
"What Archer?"
"Emiya."
Deadpool immediately grabbed his hand, preventing him from using the emergency summoning spell.
"Are you serious?"
"Completely."
"What for?"
"Well... he cooks excellently."
Deadpool looked at Ritsuka with undisguised disappointment. He was clearly hurt that after so many adventures, when he was the one filling their bellies in difficult times, Ritsuka had decided to summon some other cook.
"Ah," Ritsuka seemed to understand everything and hastily looked away.
"What 'ah'?"
The reason was obvious. After two instances of "gastronomic terror" from the mercenary, Ritsuka had serious doubts about his culinary adequacy. No, he could cook, but the guy was terrified that Deadpool would slip him some "signature" nightmare dish again.
"Oh, come on! This time I swear – I'll cook everything to the highest standard. If I do anything weird again to prank you... I'll just end it all!"
Ritsuka looked at Deadpool doubtfully, who had sworn to commit suicide. What was the point of swearing on his life if he couldn't die in the first place?
"Senpai, maybe this time we should trust Mister Pool after all?" Mash, whose indignation had subsided, tried to calm the doubting Ritsuka. Of course, she didn't doubt Deadpool's skills, but still...
"Don't worry, no chimichangas this time," he promised, taking the supplies issued by Chaldea and leaving the house.
"I have a bad feeling..." Ritsuka muttered.
And this premonition, strangely enough, turned out to be frighteningly accurate.
"La cucaracha!" the mercenary hummed.
Fearing that there wouldn't be enough ingredients, he caught wyverns and wild beasts in the surrounding mountains, butchered them, and used the suitable pieces. And in the end, he prepared...
"Chimichangas again?!" Ritsuka lowered his shoulders in amazement. He had just promised not to make them, so why again?
"Kid, this is called a 'burrito'," Deadpool said indignantly. Having obtained a Mexican mustache and a chef's hat from who knows where, he began his lecture. "Burritos, like tacos, are the pride of Mexico. Consider them like your sushi rolls. You can just wrap rice and beans in a tortilla, pour sauce over it, and eat it, or you can stuff anything inside. And if you deep-fry this beauty, you get a chimichanga, my favorite and most delicious dish of Mexican cuisine..."
Noticing that the flow of eloquence did not cease, Mash hurried to intervene: "Since you kept your word and didn't fry them, thank you for the food!" Only after this did they finally get to start their meal.
"O-oh! What is this? Incredibly delicious! I've never tried anything like it. You're a master, guy!"
"Yeah... it's a 'burrito'. Damn tasty, right? And if you fry it, it'll be even more awesome, and it'll be a 'chimichanga'."
Seeing the refugees, who were trying Mexican cuisine for the first time in their lives, showering him with praise, Deadpool became completely arrogant. With the air of a genius who had condescended to an ignorant other world, he relished his triumph.
"Wow! What the Red Uncle made is very tasty! Brother, sister, try it too!"
Rushid, who seemed to have managed to distract himself from his grief after his mother's death, sat between Ritsuka and Mash and ate his burrito with appetite. Looking at his bright smile, the heroes also couldn't help but smile and started eating.
"Phew... thank God, normal food." Ritsuka feared that the mercenary would pull some stunt again, like in the North American Singularity, but this time everything went smoothly.
"Brother, sister, it's tasty, isn't it? Heh-heh."
The boy's face was smeared with sauce, and Mash, taking out a handkerchief, gently wiped his mouth.
"Hey, kid! I put more wyvern meat in your portion. You know what? If you eat wyvern meat, your bones will become as strong as a dragon's, and you'll grow up to be a real hero. They say you'll even learn to roar, huh?"
It seemed that the sincere Rushid had pleased Deadpool, and he affectionately ruffled the boy's hair.
The atmosphere of this modest feast, filled with laughter, warmed the hearts of the refugees. When Hassan of the Cursed Arm left to stand guard, the fun continued.
"Ladies and gentlemen, the city is falling asleep. Mafia, wake up," Deadpool announced. The "mobsters" raised their heads. "Who will you kill?"
The players made their choice.
"Morning has come. Everyone wake up! So, let's vote."
As soon as Deadpool finished, Rushid immediately began accusing Bedivere of being a mobster. Bedivere tried to justify himself, but Rushid's persistent and childishly uncompromising attacks only caused bursts of laughter among the other refugees.
"You're not bad, kid! You have a talent for this kind of thing."
"Red Uncle taught me. And playing with brother and sister is very fun!"
Holding Mash and Ritsuka's hands tightly on the way to their sleeping quarters, Rushid still smiled brightly. Looking at him, it was hard to believe that he had lost his mother in the Holy City not long ago.
This innocent joy brought a bitter aftertaste to Mash and Ritsuka's souls. If only they had acted faster, if only they had been stronger... These thoughts overwhelmed them, but Deadpool, noticing this, turned around and gave them both a light flick on the nose.
"I told you – don't bother with nonsense!" he cut off. "You can't change the past. Well, unless you have Doc Brown at hand... Anyway! Don't beat yourselves up. We're doing everything right. We're not weak and we're not slow. So chin up, understand?"
Deadpool's words helped them regain their composure, and they nodded resolutely.
"Whatever happens, I will definitely protect you. That's my promise. So believe me. And I will believe in you." He lowered his voice to a whisper:
"Oh, damn! It seems I'm turning into Uncle Ben. All I need is to be shot by some robber..."
Having made sure that his comrades' fighting spirit was restored, Deadpool fell silent, merely patting them on the shoulders.
"You know... looking at you, it seems like you're one family," he suddenly blurted out.
Mash and Ritsuka, still holding Rushid's hands, looked at each other, blushed deeply, and immediately looked away.
"Ah, youth. Except for the actual deed, you look exactly like husband and wife..."
"Mister Pool!"
"Wade!"
Embarrassed by his chatter, they hurried to escort the cheerfully laughing Rushid, who clearly didn't understand the double meaning of the moment.
"Damn, to say something like that at such a moment... it's a pure death flag. I should somehow ward it off, shouldn't I?"
"Pool! Mister Pool!"
Sensing something was wrong, Deadpool flinched at the sudden appearance of Romani on the communication screen and instinctively drew his pistol.
"Mister Pool! Calm down! It's me! Romani!"
"Damn it... You scared me to death, feathered one!"
Calming his wildly beating heart, Deadpool put away his weapon and glared angrily at the doctor.
"If you called me for no important reason, I swear, when I return to Chaldea, I'll make you ride a wooden horse."
"Hic! Not that... No, I'm here on business. Here... in short, there's a serious conversation."
Deadpool's face became serious. Why would that be?
"It seems you're the only one who should know this. The thing is..."
Romani spoke in an almost whisper, and Deadpool's face gradually began to harden.
***
Read the story months ahead of the public release — early chapters are available on my Patreon: Granulan