Disclaimer: I do NOT own Fate/Stay Night or anything associated with it. The guys at TYPE-MOON do… This fic is written by Kiiroi Senko. All OCs and anything not mentioned in the Fate Project or any of its affiliates, nor any other media aside from this fanfic, belong to me. :)
Speech Notes:
"Yo…" – normal speech
'Yo…' – thoughts
"Excalibur!!" - Hougu/ Noble Phantasm
Author's Note:
Since it's set in Japan, they're obviously speaking in Japanese. Basically, all dialogue in this fic are "subs", if you will (Unless it's specified that they're speaking in English or another language, or unless it's painfully obvious). I will use my meager Japanese vocabulary whenever possible to make it feel a little bit closer to how the original work sounded.
Some parts may sound more like the visual novel, and some may sound more like the anime, so bear with me. Thank you.
Full Summary: PLEASE READ THIS TO UNDERSTAND SOME PARTS OF THIS. THIS IS NOT YOUR AVERAGE HOLY GRAIL WAR.
Emiya Shirō, having been saved from certain death ten years ago by Emiya Kiritsugu, has now taken up the ways of the magus under his foster father, and learned from him about the real reason behind the hellish conflagration that stole his entire life on that day: the Holy Grail War. Now an experienced user of Thaumaturgy, he finds himself drawn into the deadly struggle, and on that fateful night, he reaches out and grasps his own destiny.
The Fifth Heaven's Feel had arrived... but something had gone wrong. The summoning site is overloaded with mana from an imperfect ritual, and, to rectify this before erupting involuntarily, has summoned more Servants to the War. Fourteen Servants, Fourteen Magi, a free-for-all battle royal of epic proportions for the ultimate prize: the Holy Grail. One of these "new" Masters is an 18-year old high school student, a magus in hiding living out his life in secret. This encounter would alter the course of his fate forever.
Welcome to the story of "The Second Sword". Enjoy.
Chapter 1: The Rise of a New War
Flashback
Shirō and his father sat side by side on the porch of their home, watching the brilliant fireworks display illuminate the night sky.
The young Shirō looked up at his father's face. "Tou-san?" he called out, catching the man's attention.
Kiritsugu regarded his son with a kind look. "Yes? What's the matter, Shirō?" he inquired.
Shirō looked down, as if embarrassed, but pressed on either way. "Back in the hospital, you told me that you were a... something..." he trailed off, his face scrunching up as he tried to remember the word.
Kiritsugu chuckled. "A magus, you mean. What about it?" he said, supplying the best answer he could think of.
Shirō's eyes sparkled. "Yeah, that was it! A magus! Tou-san, I want to be a magus just like you!" he proudly declared. At that, Kiritsugu's face took on a more solemn look.
"My son, if that is your wish, it won't be my place to deny it. However, if you do become one, and I have no doubts that you will become an excellent magus, you must remember to keep that a secret from everyone. Magi aren't welcome in society anymore. That's why every Magi hides their abilities any way they can. Do you understand, Shirō?" Kiritsugu said.
Shirō nodded. "Hai, tou-san."
Kiritsugu's face softened. "That's good. But we'll start tomorrow. For now, let's just enjoy the festivities. Sound good, Shirō?"
Shirō brightened. "Yeah! Then after this I can start training to be a 'Hero of Justice'! Just you wait!" he shouted out in a proud voice. Kiritsugu could only chuckle at his son's antics.
Five years later
Kiritsugu lay on his deathbed. During the final day of the Fourth Heaven's Feel, he'd ordered his Servant, Saber, to destroy the Grail. With the vessel's destruction, the tainted ichor had spilled all over, drenching Kiritsugu and afflicting him with an incurable illness that had slowly ravaged his body.
Shirō dutifully sat next to his father's bed, unwilling to leave him to the end.
Kiritsugu gave his son a kind look. "Shirō... my boy, you've become a fine young magus... I couldn't be prouder of you..." he said. To his disappointment, Shirō's face remained impassive instead of beaming with pride as it always had with every praise Kiritsugu offered.
"Tou-san..." Shirō said, at a loss for anything else to say. Instead, he held onto his father's hand, grasping it for all he was worth.
Kiritsugu coughed before he continued. "If there was anything I... wasn't able... to teach you... then you'll... find all the information... and knowledge you need... in the bookshelf in... my room... the one I always... kept you away from... And... don't forget... to keep your... identity... as a magus... a secret..."
Shirō's vision blurred, no doubt from the tears that threatened to overwhelm him. The young red-head fought back valiantly to hold them back as he nodded to understand, though his heart refused to accept it.
"Tou-san, you can't go!" he shouted defiantly.
Kiritsugu smiled weakly. "Ah... my son... My time has come... Nothing can... be done... to stop that... But... at least I get to spend... my final moments... with the most important... person... to me..."
Shirō felt his resistance begin to crumble as he heard his father's words, yet he held them back, not wishing to show his father a sorrowful face in his last moments.
Kiritsugu continued. "Do not... worry... Someone... will care for you... when I'm gone... Taiga is a... kind-hearted woman... and her grandfather... will help you out... when you need it..."
Shirō's resolve finally gave way, and he felt his tears fall, leaving wet trails on his cheeks. "But, Tou-san! I don't need anyone else! I need you!" he said, not wanting to accept what his father was saying. "You and I promised that we'd be the 'Heroes of Justice' in the world!"
Kiritsugu chuckled, before he coughed violently. "Shirō... to hear you... say that... I couldn't be... happ... i.... er..." he trails off, before his eyes close. The machine that had been monitoring his life signs went flat with a single, constant, unending tone.
At that moment, Shirō's entire world came crashing down on him.
"TOU-SAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAN!!!!!!!!!!" he cried out in anguish and grief.
End Flashbacki
Present time
Emiya Shirō ground his teeth in frustration. He'd been killed by the man with the crimson spear earlier that night, and yet someone had saved his life. And now here he was once more, same scenario, and without a doubt the same outcome. He'd tried, but this man who stood before him possessed unnatural powers. All the studying of magecraft under his father and later by his own will hadn't helped him. He'd used every trick he knew, but still he'd been beaten.
"Checkmate. That was a pretty surprising move," the man said, his ultramarine armor seemingly melting into the night. His slitted red eyes possessed a crazed glint to them, as if battle was the only thing that could possibly sate him. He grinned at the situation. His two meter-long spear was leveled right at Shirō's heart, and all it would take was one smooth thrust to kill the boy. 'Again,' the seemingly supernatural warrior thought rather sourly.
"You did surprise me a bit, gozu, to have been able to hold your own against me twice. But I still don't understand. You're quick-witted, and your magic skills are amazing for someone your age. It seems to me like you've got talent, but I guess you're just unlucky to have run into me..." he continues, his gaze never once leaving Shirō. "You might have actually been the 'Seventh'."
At this point Shirō was quite frustrated, but at the same time rather surprised. " The Seventh?" he questioned, though he already knew what it was about. His father's library was very informative, much more than he would have ever guessed.
'The Holy Grail War... I'll hazard a guess and say that's what the mark on my left hand is for...' he thought as he discreetly began to channel mana through it in large amounts. It was risky, but it was his last chance.
The man's grin widened as he chuckled. "Even if so, this is the end," he stated as he thrust forward with the lance. He was not aware of the summoning ring that had slowly been gathering mana behind Shirō. Its runes had already begun to glow due to the magical power it contained.
'You have got to be kidding,' Shirō thought during what he figured would be the last few moments of his life. 'I cannot surrender without a fight the life that someone saved. I can't die meaninglessly like this!'
'I won't be killed. I will summon a Servant! Come forth!' he thought as a shining blade with an azure handle flashed through his mind. As if that thought triggered a reaction, the strange mark on the back of his hand began to glow brightly. In response, the summoning ring activated, giving off a blinding light as it released its magic power for the reason it was created.
Shirō turned, and was nearly blinded by the radiance of the ring's magic power. His assailant had now forgotten about killing Shirō and had raised his spear to shield his eyes from the light.
As all of this was going on, two others were heading towards this confrontation themselves. One set of eyes widened while the other narrowed as a bright light shone from within Shirō's shed.
"That's-!" Tōsaka Rin, the female of the pair, exclaimed as they descended towards the shed. Her companion, a silver-haired man dressed in black body armor and a red cloak, simply observed the light in grim silence.
"Nani...?!" the lance-wielder exclaimed, voicing his obvious surprise at what was happening.
A figure rose from the summoning ring, and in a single fluid motion, rushed at the lance-wielding offender and knocked him aside with a single blow. The force of the impact knocked Lancer out of the shed. After a brief moment, Shirō's savior turned her attention to him. Shirō was instantly captured by the being before him.
Standing before him, bathed in the moonlight of the night sky, stood what he thought was probably the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. She donned an azure blue dress, over which she wore shining silver battle armor: a breastplate over her torso, gauntlets covering her forearms, and more armor plates attached to the sides of her dress. Shirō thought that the radiant armor would be more well-suited to a heroic knight instead of a beautiful young girl. He had no idea how spot-on his observation really was.
Her blond hair had been braided into an intricate bun held by a blue ribbon, yet it still left her bangs and several locks to frame her delicate features. Shirō could feel his heart beating in his throat as she regarded him with her jewel-like, emerald eyes. She was... an angel.
He was jolted out of his surprise when she spoke, her voice soft but valiant, carrying an air of authority and confidence with it. "Servant Saber. Here I stand by your summons."
"Answer me," she continued. The next few words she spoke would change Shirō's life forever. "I ask of you, are you my Master?"
Shirō was stunned into shocked silence. He wondered if it was merely from confusion, but he dismissed that thought because he knew about the Holy Grail War from his father. He knew it in his heart, that his speechlessness arose from the sight of the girl's sheer beauty. Little did he know that this event would shake the entire Magus' Association to its very foundations.
Clock Tower, main branch of the Magus' Association, Britain
A group of figures came together at an undisclosed location. They knew each other and their purposes, but outsiders of this organization knew nothing of their true capabilities. To further this facade, they made sure such gatherings were always held at secret locations, even if they weren't as important as this. But this time, things had truly taken a turn for the worse for the Magus' Association.
"Thank you for coming on such short notice, everyone. I have some grave news. It appears that the ritual for the Grail has gone awry, leaving the land overflowing in mana, and thus it threatens to destroy itself from the inside," one said. Murmurs arose from those gathered as they tried to comprehend just how it could have happened. Never before in the history of the Holy Grail War - of the Heaven's Feel - had this happened.
"Are you implying that a rift in the power balance has been created?! Are you telling us that the Holy Grail War has been thrown off by this?!" another shouted, silencing the others by slamming his hands down on his desk. When the first man remained silent, the murmurs started up once again. The man's silence indicated an affirmative. This they all knew.
"So, what can we do about this? Too much mana and the Holy Grail will destroy itself. And that will jeopardize everything the Holy Grail War has stood for," one of the older and more reserved members of the Magus' Association's highest members said. They sat in contemplative silence, all of them, until their head, the man who had called for and started the meeting, spoke once more.
"This time, it is out of our hands. To fulfill the ritual requirements for its summoning, it has summoned an indefinite number of Servants. It is the only possible solution that it can come up with without a needless sacrifice of life that could just as easily be avoided." That statement sent a ripple of shock and unease throughout the room.
"An... eighth?! Surely you jest! Allowing an eighth Servant to join the Heaven's Feel is insanity! Allowing that may have disastrous results!" one of the other members said, his voice flooded with disbelief. His opinion was supported by the nods of the other members
"Insanity, you say?" he replied as he chuckled mirthlessly. "Perhaps so. But it has to be done to meet the requirements for summoning the Grail. Though, I would say that I used the words 'indefinite number', not 'an eighth'. There may be more than one extra Servant, so we must keep careful watch on this. Whether or not this war would prove disastrous is all up to the participants in this war. We must act here with the utmost of caution. Understood?" he said. Slowly, one by one, each member voiced their consent. Even those who found the idea absurd gave way. It was like he said. There was no choice but to obey the wishes of the Grail.
Fuyuki City, Japan
A young man sat at his desk, twirling a pen in between the fingers of his left hand as he ran his right hand through his long, spiky blue hair, shot through with a shock of silver. School had been most uneventful, so much that it was a miracle his sanity survived the insane boredom. His piercing blue-eyed gaze was focused simply on one thing outside his window: the old Western-style manor where one of his classmates lived. It was fairly ironic because she also happened to be one of his few and far-in-between friends. Well, I suppose things like that happened when you were a Magus. Sure, he didn't exactly have anything on his fellow magus Tōsaka Rin in terms of prestige, but he wouldn't count himself out just like that.
By the standards of the modern world, magi were considered at the height of heretics for their usage of Magecraft to bring about things seemingly impossible. The young man sighed, marveling and at the same time cursing the short-sightedness of people today. From the Magus' Association's extensive records that he had sifted through during his short stay at the Clock Tower, he'd found out that past generations accepted Magi for who and what they were, and sometimes even relied on them to help them through hard times!
'How times have changed... that magi can no longer use their powers openly to benefit themselves and others... it's truly a pity...' he thought, further wondering just what the hell had happened to turn the people's views on Magi around like that. Perhaps the people had eventually begun to see Magi as heretics or maybe as inferior to magicians, accepting only the latter, who practice "true" magic, which is capable of bringing forth miracles impossible to reenact at the current stage of magical science, as opposed to Magi who practice Magecraft or Thaumaturgy, which can only reenact true miracles by scientific means. Or perhaps a rogue Magus had gone and used his power for an unjust purpose, thus leading the people to catalog every Magus they saw as evil.
Of course, the decline of Magi could very much have been related to the "Holy" Church. They acted all friendly to the Magus' Association, but the young student knew in his heart that as soon as they found a reason during their oh-so-frequent investigations, they'd probably declare open hostilities and eliminate every last Magi in a heartbeat. After all, what organization could possibly be more extreme in their extermination of anything that wasn't mentioned in God's teachings than the Church?
The man chuckled mirthlessly at those last two hypothetical thoughts. It wasn't like him to over-analyze situations that date back several hundreds of years, if not thousands. The history of Thaumaturgy has been very well-kept, away from prying eyes, so even some Magi were unable to learn the entirety of Thaumaturgy's history.
He shook those thoughts aside and gripped his pen with his left hand. He scanned the pages of the textbook he had in front of him and began writing once more, continuing what he had been doing before this momentary lapse in focus: being a normal second-year high school student who was stuck with an annoying Math homework.
He worked on it for a few minutes, making rapid computations in his head, not once touching a calculator or a piece of paper. Over-all, the annoyance came not from the level of difficulty. To him, it came simply from the fact that his teacher even bothered to give them a homework.
And that was when it happened.
A sharp pain suddenly coursed through his right arm, making him drop his pen and clutch at his right arm as a fiery sensation spread from it all throughout his entire body.
'Kuso... what... the hell?!' he cursed mentally as the pain increased in intensity. His left hand's grip further tightened on his right arm as the pain continued to intensify. After some of the most agonizing moments in his life, the pain finally subsided. He sat in his chair, breathing heavily as sweat trickled down his forehead. Amazingly, he hadn't knocked anything over. It took him a few seconds to realize that his right forearm was covered in blood. He simply shook his head and grabbed a towel from a small rack.
'It sure is handy to have a rack of them always ready...' he thought as he slowly scrubbed off the red life-giving liquid, starting from his hand, only to find a sight he never thought would happen so soon. A mark on the back of his hand glowed with an unearthly power, sending ripples of mana coursing through his body.
A sudden realization hit him, and he took off, running through the hallways of his household as fast as his legs would carry him, until he arrived at a door that he had declared off-limits to any guests who would enter his home. Fishing out a key from his pocket, he hastily unlocked the door and ran in to discover the long-silent rune in that room had finally awakened. The summoning circle was alive with energy, and that in itself meant one thing.
He had a chance to make a difference. Here it was, right in front of him.
'I've been selected... for the Holy Grail War...'
"Master..." Shirō repeated, stunned by the knightly girl's words. His mind had somehow stopped working, as if it had been frozen in time... just like this moment that seemed to stretch into eternity.
'The Holy Grail War...' he thought.
The blond girl said nothing and simply regarded Shirō. She stared at him in complete silence, as if waiting solely for Shirō to finally snap out of it and say something.
After several moments, seeing that the boy sitting in front of her was not about to respond by himself, the beautiful girl mentally sighed before addressing him once more.
"I, Servant Saber, have come forth in response to your summons," she said once again. "Please give me an order, Master."
Shirō's mind registers the words 'Servant' and 'Master' almost automatically, as if it was his duty to hear them. Without warning, a sharp pain shoots through his left hand, as if it had just been chained to red-hot iron. He grabbed it instinctively in reaction to the pain, but it seemed as if the girl was waiting for that sort of a reaction, as she nods her delicate, lovely face.
"Hai. I'm sorry for the delay in replying. I am your Master. My name is Emiya Shirō," he said, to which the girl nods with acceptance and satisfaction.
"From this time forth, my sword shall be with you, and your fate shall be with me... Now, our contract is complete," she announced, almost reverently. "Your orders, Master."
"Very well. Your first order, Saber, is to help me defeat that man out there," he says. The blond girl did not reply to Shirō, and simply turned her head to look towards the door of the shed with every inch of grace she had when she had nodded.
There stood the ultramarine-armored man from earlier, his lance in hand once more.
The young magus had set up everything in the room for the summoning, but was now just missing one final piece: the artifact to bind him to a particular Servant. Normally, Heroic Spirits were selected based on how closely their personality resembled the Master's own. With an artifact connected to a particular Heroic Spirit, however, there was a 100 % success rate of summoning the desired Heroic Spirit. The blue and silver-haired magus' goal was a Heroic Spirit whose skill and power could equal any other hero throughout any mythology and history, regardless of their weapon. And he had a single piece to bind himself to that Servant. Or so he hoped. The only problem was digging it out of all the piles of randomly-collected junk he had in the room.
For a couple of precious minutes, he had searched the room, overturning pretty much every pile, until he found his objective: an unnaturally large, delicately-wrapped parcel. Unwrapping the object, he revealed it to be an enormous, ancient bokken, its unique make and intricate design identifying it as belonging to times far in the past. He wiped the artifact clean of the dust it had accumulated, revealing the wood's brilliant shine once more.
'I still wonder how this ended up here... it matches the description of his bokken in the history and mythology books I've read...' he thought as he held it up to the moonlight. The blue and silver-haired man then heard a slight rustle. He looked down to find a folded note inside the cloth as well. Taking it, he unfolded it and began to read. His eyes widened as the identity of the writer became known to him.
'Tou-sama...' he thought, feeling a pang of pain stabbing through his chest, his eyes stinging as they filled with tears.
Seiro...
If you're reading this now, then that means that the Holy Grail War has selected you to be one of its Masters. Now, let me tell you the truth about this necklace. It didn't just end up here by chance. We found it at an excavation site in Kumamoto Prefecture. That bokken you hold is connected to one of the greatest warriors our country has ever known. We kept it, knowing that on a fateful night, your destiny would be altered forever. That night is now. Take this necklace as our final gift to you... and use it to grasp your future in your own hands.
We will always love and cherish you as a son, and we wish you every happiness.
Your father and mother...
The young man carefully set the note down as a silent tear slid down his face. Grasping the enormous weapon like a lifeline, Seiro mopped at the single tear before stepping into the circle. He swiped some of his blood from his arm and let it fall to the ground to begin the ritual. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes as he found his inner tranquility despite his current emotions, forcing his body to take on an incredible amount of mana. He felt like he was burning up, as if he was being stabbed by thousands of blades, but he pressed on and started the summoning, the incantation having been memorized by heart in preparation for this day. He found his inner self reciting it along with his voice as he vocalized the chant. Two chants... one meaning... one heart... one mind... one purpose. That was all that mattered to him now.
"Ye first, O silver, O iron
O stone of the foundation, O Archduke of the Contract
Hear me in the name of our great teacher, the Archmagus Schweinorg
Let the descending winds be as a wall
Let the gates in all directions be shut, rising above the crown, and let the three-forked roads to the Kingdom revolve.
Shut. Shut. Shut. Shut. Shut.
Five perfections for each repetition.
And now, let the filled sigils be annihilated in my stead!
Set.
Let thy body rest under my dominion, let my fate rest in thy blade.
If thou submitteth to the call of the Holy Grail and if thou wilt obey this mind, this reason, then thou shalt respond.
I make my oath here.
I am that person who is to become the virtue of all Heavens.
I am that person who is covered with the evil of all Hades.
Thou seven heavens, clad in a trinity of words, come past thy restraining rings, and be thou the hands that protect the balance-!"
A replica of the summoning ring had risen as he chanted, and as he shouted out the last verse, making it sound more like a command than anything else, the ring reacted to it, pulsing out in a single, mighty release of energy. After a bright flash of light, his legs gave way underneath him as his gaze swam out of vision, yet he suddenly felt a strong grip on his arm steady him.
As he clutched his head, he took in deep breaths, bringing his body back to normal, or rather as close as he could make it to normal. When he finally regained his balance enough to see clearly, he pulled his arm away gently, and as he straightened, he found himself face-to-face with another being.
The newcomer stood slightly taller than the blue and silver-haired magus' 185 cm height, his wild, spiky black hair as dark as night, the back drawn into a ponytail that reached down just past his shoulders. He wore an outfit that was befitting a traditional Japanese warrior: a black kimono and dark blue combat leggings, with a light blue sash around his waist, plus a minimalist set of armor: over the tied sleeves of his kimono, he had donned functional yet sturdy gloves and gauntlets, along with greaves to protect his legs. Completing the outfit was a white, sleeveless long coat, a study in elegance as it seemingly shone with a heavenly luster under the moon of the clear night sky.
But perhaps the most striking detail of this man was the pair of swords he carried on his lower back. Judging from the length of the scabbards, the young magus approximated that the longer of the two blades was roughly 190 cm, while the shorter was around 150 cm. The carvings and characters engraved upon the ebony scabbards shone with a golden hue, further adding to the mystery of the warrior's identity.
"Are you alright?" he asked, his voice calm and measured.
"Ah... I'm fine. Arigatou," he replied, giving a slight bow in thanks. "I apologize for worrying you."
'So... this is the Servant I have summoned?' he thought as he took in everything about the mystery warrior.
The warrior nodded, his expression grave. "Forgive me for my abruptness, but I must attend to pressing matters. It appears that you are a Magus, and most likely my summoner. I am Servant Saber. Here do I stand to answer your call. I ask of you this: Are you my Master?" he asked.
The silver-haired magus answered without pause, without hesitation. "I am indeed your Master. By this seal," he answered, presenting the Reiju that had appeared on the back of his right hand, "I shall place my fate in your capable hands."
The warrior bowed. "And I shall be the blade that shall smite your enemies. Our contract is now sealed, but for one simple yet most important detail. We must now perform the most important part of this contract." Upon seeing his shorter companion's questioning look, he detached one of his sheathed blades and held it up. "What I mean is... we must seal the agreement through a personal method. Every Servant has their own way of doing so. But... I will need your name."
The blue and silver-haired magus nodded. "I understand. My name is Masaoka Seiro. You can call me Seiro if you wish for a first name basis. There's no need to be so uptight and call me Master or something like that."
The azure-clad Saber nodded. "I see. Seiro means 'path of duty'. It is an excellent name," he said. "I shall address you as Seiro from now on, if that is acceptable. Now... please take hold of the sheath of the sword." The two tone-haired magus did so.
Satisfied, Saber reversed his grip and shifted the sheath into a vertical position. "I do hereby acknowledge you, Masaoka Seiro, as my Master. May this be a symbol of our agreement, and may I die by the blade should I break the code of honor it carries." At that, the Servant raised the sword and brought it down, tapping the hand-guard against the sheath.
"The contract is now sealed," Saber said, nodding in satisfaction. "Now-"
Before the Servant could continue, both Master and Servant suddenly felt an enormous spike of mana.
Saber's eyes narrowed. "That was a huge spike of mana, Master. Even if it's early on in the war, I doubt it can be good. I think it would be wise to investigate, but I shall follow your decision," he said. "Before we do so-"
"It's alright. Anything else can wait till later." At Saber's questioning expression, Seiro smirked. "This may be more important than anything. Ikuzo... Saber..." he said as he walked up to his room. He opened up a closet and grabbed an azure trench coat, donning it with a fairly dramatic flourish before wrapping a white scarf around his neck to keep him warm against the cold evening, and to possibly protect his identity as a magus. He took one very quick look at himself in a mirror before walking out, his Servant right behind him. They exited the front door, with Seiro locking it behind him. He made to move, but he stopped in his tracks. Saber was already standing on one of the posts of the lot's gateway. On the back of his coat, the young magus saw it. Written in kanji, it read "Tenka Musou", translated as "The Land's Greatest".
"By the way, Master. The distance appears to not be too far. Is there any mode of transportation that is convenient?" he asked. Seiro gave an enigmatic smile which had Saber rather confused.
"Of course. We run. I know where it came from, and it has me worried. Let's go!" Seiro said, before both took off in a dash.
'Rin... my friend... what would you think if you knew I was in this War...?'
Shirō could only watch as the knightly girl moves faster than his mind can think, leaping out of the shed without hesitation. His body moves instinctively as he gets up to follow her, completely ignoring the pain in his body.
'She's quick and precise...' he thought. 'Even with that armor of hers, plus the fact she's a girl who's smaller than I am... it's simply amazing!'
"Trace, on!" he muttered, but even at this distance his words are drowned out by the sounds of clashing steel. The sounds of battle. Pushing that aside, he forms a wire-frame image in his mind and fills it out with its composite materials, adding in the age, power, fame, every detail. When he finishes, he now brandishes in his hands a pair of finely-crafted Eastern blades, blades he had read about before but had also seen earlier in the evening: the swords Kanshō and Bakuya.
"Nani...?" Shirō found himself muttering as he is greeted by an amazing sight that leaves his mind completely blank. Complete darkness.
"Where is she?" he asked no one in particular as he finds the yard dark once more, the moon having been hidden behind the clouds. But the darkness is punctuated by brilliant flashes of light born from weapons clashing against one another.
The lance-wielding man thrusts his crimson weapon at the blond girl, utterly silent. The girl simply parries his attack and moves to deflect each and every attack her adversary delivers, pushing him back each time.
Shirō watches as Saber overpowers the man with apparent ease. Compared to the struggle Shirō put up earlier, this was really what you could call a battle. As long as both sides had a means of killing the other, you could call it a battle.
The ultramarine 'lancer' throws his spear with even more force than earlier, but to no avail as again Saber parries with the invisible object in her hands.
"Kuso!" he mutters as he brings his lance around to protect his midsection from Saber's attack. "Guh...!" the man grunts as he barely deflects Saber's powerful attack, his lance glowing as he does so. The blow seemed similar to an explosion, so it probably would seem most accurate to refer to it as that. Each instant the ultramarine-haired killer blocks Saber's attack, his lance glows, as if electrified. He knew what it was, and so did Shirō: it was a force of magical energy so focused, so powerful that it has already become visible.
Each blow Saber delivers is reinforced by a staggering amount of magical energy that penetrates her opponent's weapon with each touch. To block such a powerful attack requires an equally staggering amount of force, Shirō realizes.
'Hm... I suppose if you consider the man's lance as an accurate sniper rifle... then I guess you can think of Saber's attack as a powerful shotgun...' he thinks as each clash of weapons fills the yard with a stunning flash of light. Yet that isn't what is overpowering the hostile lance-wielder, Shirō realizes as the man shouts.
"Coward, what are you doing, hiding your weapon...!" he shouts, his voice portraying both irritation and anger, but Saber simply responds by intensifying her attack.
"You...!" he says rather threateningly as he retreats further, annoyed at not even getting a chance to retaliate and counterattack. But that's what you could expect if your opponent's weapon was completely invisible. Attacking haphazardly in a situation like this would be the height of idiocy.
Even when sparks fly from the clash of weapons, Saber's weapon shows no sign of appearing. It's almost as if it isn't there, but the lance-wielder knew better than anyone at the moment, else he wouldn't be struggling like this: it was there.
"Kuso," he curses once more as he deflects yet another onslaught, his moves lacking the sharpness and finesse he displayed earlier; he was faring poorly at the moment without an accurate measurement for his opponent's reach.
And for the first time during the duel, Saber lets out her voice in the form of a war cry as she performs a devastating series of swings. Her adversary blocks each blow with pinpoint accuracy, and he clucks his tongue as he does so.
Shirō, despite the fact that this man killed him once and attempted to do so a second time, cannot help but admire his skill. 'He's blocking each attack from an invisible weapon simply by watching Saber's arm and leg movements...'
"Fuh...!" he grunts as he blocks Saber's last attack. But that's all he can do, block. When someone is on the defensive, all you need to do is batter that defense until it opens. As if on cue, Saber steps closer and, with all her strength behind it, delivers a powerful, crushing blow that would smash the man into the ground.
"Don't underestimate me, baka!" he shouts as he jumps back impossibly quick, making it appear as if he had disappeared. Saber's blow simply slices through air and hits the ground, kicking up dust.
"Baka, what is she doing...!?" Shirō mutters to himself. Even from this distance, Shirō understood that the lance-wielder was far too quick to catch with a move as big as that. And even with all the stress his body must have been under, having to repel an onslaught that would have broken a lesser man, he was still able to push it aside and leap away, avoiding defeat.
"Ha...!" the man grunts as he lands, almost instantly jumping once more, reversing his direction and charging directly at Saber, who on the contrary still has her invisible sword embedded into the ground.
The opening seems irrevocable, as there seems to be no way Saber can realign her blade in time to deflect the man's lightning-quick thrust. But in an amazing display of strength and ingenuity, Saber twirls her entire body, her sword still in the ground.
The lance-wielding man sees his error and tries to correct it by holding back as Saber uses her entire body to execute a powerful blow.
"Guh...!" he grunts as he is blown away. Both he and Saber seem discontent, however. But, it would seem natural in this situation. Both had executed moves meant to kill, and even if it allowed them to escape imminent danger, the moves are still worthless if they do not fulfill the purpose for which they were used.
The distance has now opened up between the two as they stare at each other in silence. Surprisingly, this time it was Saber to break the silent atmosphere.
"What's wrong, Lancer?" she asks the man, identifying him as 'Lancer'. "If you just stay there, the name 'Lancer' will weep of shame at you. If you're not coming, I'll come and get you." Her voice portrayed almost no emotion whatsoever towards her adversary.
Lancer was grinning. "Hah, you're going to come and die? I don't mind, but let me ask you this first. Your Hougu... Is it a sword?" he asks, glaring at the girl as if staring right into her heart.
"Who knows?" Saber replies, a little smile gracing her features as her bangs covered her eyes. "Is it an axe? Or could it be a spear? Iie, maybe it's even a bow, Lancer."
"Heh. Keep talking, Saber," Lancer replies with an amused tone. Perhaps he actually did find it funny. All of a sudden, he lowered his lance, as if indicating he didn't want to fight anymore. Saber's face takes on a confused expression as she contemplates Lancer's action. But Shirō suddenly had a feeling of dread begin to bubble up in his stomach. He'd seen that stance, during the fight in the schoolyard, when Lancer had fought the crimson-clad man. It was the stance Lancer used when he prepared that fatal blow that should have ended that show with Lancer emerging the victor.
"I'll ask just in case since this is our first meeting. Do you want to call it even?" he asks Saber. After a moment, he continued. "It's not a bad deal, right? See, that senile Master over there is useless, and it so happens that my own Master is a coward. I think it's in both our interests to hold off on this match until we're both better prepared."
Saber took the hurdle without hesitation. "I refuse. You will be defeated here, Lancer."
Lancer sighed. "Souka. Geez... all I wanted to do was check everyone out, you know? I didn't want to stay long once a Servant appeared." And with that, the air around them seemed to distort.
Lancer lowered his stance. At that moment, a chill ran through the air. To Shirō, it was an exact replica of what happened in the schoolyard, as Lancer's magical energy rumbles in a whirlpool, centered on that lance of his.
Saber's eyes narrowed. "Hougu...!" she muttered as she raised her invisible sword, her narrowed eyes glaring right at Lancer. At the moment, she probably knew better than Shirō how dangerous Lancer truly was.
"See ya. I'll take that heart of yours!" he shouts as he leaps into the air. In an instant, he reappears in front of Saber, as if by teleportation and thrusts his lance at the girl's feet.
To the naked eye, it seemed like a bad move. With his lance already lowered, aiming yet lower was a very amateurish move. As if to prove the point, Saber jumps over the spear point, her blade poised to cut Lancer down.
At that moment, Lancer spoke two words. Two words so powerful it seemed even they were charged with magical energy.
"Gáe Bolg!" he shouts, and the lance instantly shifts direction, from being pointed at Saber's feet to pointing directly at her heart. An instant later, her body is rising into the air, having been launched by the force of the lance thrust. She crashes... no, lands on the ground once more.
"Ha, kuh...!" she coughs, gasping for air. One moment, not a single scratch on her body. The next, she's bleeding badly from a terrible wound on her chest.
"A curse... iie, a reversal of causality!" she says, her voice laced with pain. From where Shirō had been, it truly was a strange attack.
'The lance had most definitely been aiming for Saber's feet... but it changed course faster than the blink of an eye. It hadn't bent or grown in any way. The way it moved felt so natural... almost as if the lance was already in Saber's heart before it actually was...' Shirō thought.
'So, to simplify it, the lance didn't actually change course so that it would pierce Saber's heart. It simply changed the means so that the result would be so...' he continued as he deduced his theory for the attack. 'So... in this case, the lance thrust with that name carried a so-called "result" of "piercing her heart" as a premise. In short, the process and the result have switched places. Since the result was that the lance would pierce Saber's heart, then the course of the spear point was merely added later to prove it.'
Shirō recalled what Lancer had called the weapon: Gáe Bolg... an evil thorn that breaks through all defenses... a lance that pierces the heart every time it's used, a weapon that determines your fate every time it's used... how can someone block such an infallible attack? However the enemy tries to dodge it, the lance will pierce their heart without fail. A cursed lance that always pierces your opponent with one thrust.
And yet... Saber had evaded it by the smallest margin. Badly wounded she may be, but the wound itself is survivable. In a sense, her actions were more impossible than the lance. At the exact moment the lance was thrust, she had turned and jumped back with every ounce of strength in her body, as if she had anticipated that this was going to happen.
Either she had incredible luck or enough divine protection to nullify the curse of the lance. Either way, she avoided that fatal blow and sullied the lance's name and reputation.
"Haa... haa..." Saber pants, catching her breath. The blood that had been running freely had already stopped, and even the wound was starting to heal. It was simply extraordinary. From her fighting skills to the sheer power of her magical energy and now her regenerative abilities... it was clear that she was on a whole other level from Lancer.
But, even if it had already begun to heal, she was now afflicted with a deep wound that would no doubt cripple her fighting abilities. If Lancer attacked again, Saber wouldn't stand a chance.
Yet it is with this overwhelming advantage that Lancer remains unmoving. He glares at Saber, his teeth grinding so hard that Shirō could hear it. Just in case, he brandishes his swords and channels some mana into his legs to increase his speed. That way, he could be at Saber's side in an instant.
"You evaded it, Saber. My fatal Gáe Bolg..." he says in a combination of rage, amazement, and most surprisingly, respect. Saber's ears perk up at his words.
"Gáe Bolg... then that must mean that you are Ireland's... you're Chulainn's Hound!" she exclaims, drawing a frown from Lancer. His hostility suddenly disappears, to be replaced by annoyance as he clucks his tongue.
"I screwed up, didn't I? If I'm going to use this move next time, I should be sure it's fatal... Kuso, I guess being too famous is bad, too..." he mutters indignantly. And just like that, the pressure from a few moments earlier lifts. Lancer does not even make a move to strike at the wounded girl, but simply turns back and moves to the edge of the yard.
"It is the rule of Servants to fight to the death if your identity is discovered... but, unfortunately, my Master is a coward. He's telling me to go back since you've evaded my lance..." he says.
Saber's eyes narrowed with anger. "You are running away, Lancer?" she asked, barely able to contain herself. How dare he simply turn his back on this battle like that! It was an insult to her pride and her honor.
"Yeah. I don't mind if you come after me, Saber. Just make sure that you're prepared to die when, and if, you do."
And just like that, Lancer scales the wall of the Emiya Residence and disappears from sight.
"Matte, Lancer!" Saber shouts, and despite her wound, begins running to chase him down.
'Is she stupid?!' Shirō thinks as he takes off, running for all he's worth. He knew that if she wasn't stopped, she'd run after Lancer. And that would get her killed.
But as Saber reaches the wall, she stops and clenches her chest with an armored hand. "Kuh..." she coughs, gasping for air once more. When Shirō reaches Saber, he can do nothing but stare at her. He had gone nearer to try calling out to her, but that had gone out the window as he realized that everything around her was just absurd.
Now that he was closer, Shirō noticed that her shining silver armor must be incredibly heavy. The old-fashioned cloth used for her dress is smooth, colored a vivid blue. Yet that isn't what had caught his tongue.
She was a few years younger than Shirō, and yet he had been captured by her beauty. Her golden hair lit up underneath the moonlight, as if it had been sprinkled by gold dust.
Her face carried a hint of naivety, yet it also held elegance. And Shirō couldn't help but marvel at how soft her white skin looked. She was delicate, one of a kind, and she had completely fascinated Shirō. But there was one other reason why he was speechless.
Watching her fight and getting hurt made him angry for some reason. To Shirō, it mattered not how strong or armored a girl was, because to him it was wrong for a girl to have to fight. The whole while Shirō was absorbing every detail about Saber, she had her hand on her chest, where the lance had pierced her.
But it was short-lived as she lets go and straightens, the pain etched on her features gone. She turns and gives her full attention to Shirō, staring right at him. Shirō is slightly unnerved, partly by the fact that he has no idea how he should speak to her.
But he notices something odd about her now.
'The wound... it's... gone...?' he thinks. Where there had been a jagged tear in her armor, it was now unscathed. Shirō had heard of healing magics, but he hadn't seen her using any. That meant that her healing is automatic, even when badly wounded.
Shirō's mind suddenly switches gears as he realizes that this is no time to be fascinated by her. She was a strange being, Shirō decided, and he didn't want to let his guard down around her, at least not until he knew what she was and what her purpose is.
"Who... are you?" he asks, involuntarily taking half a step back.
Saber regards him quizzically. "What do you mean? I am the Servant Saber. You are the one who summoned me, so I doubt there is much need for you to confirm it," she replies, her voice quiet.
"The Servant... Saber..." Shirō repeats. If the girl in front of him was exasperated or thought he was stupid, she was doing a very good job of hiding it.
"Hai, so please call me Saber," she replies without hesitation. Her tone was polite, courteous and gentle, and that combination was something that made Shirō's mind go blank. Almost immediately, he felt his face begin to heat up.
"Souka," he replies. "Like I said earlier, I am Shirō... Emiya Shirō. I live in this house. First thing we should do is catch our breaths, then we can think up a plan, alright?""
"Wakarimashita. I shall comply with your wisdom, Master," Saber said, her tone light.
"That's wrong. My name isn't 'Master'," Shirō replies.
"Then I shall call you Shirō," Saber replies almost instantly. "Yes, I like the sound of that better."
"Wait a minute. Why are you- Ow...!" he says as a sharp pain courses through his left hand.
"I-it's burning!" he grunts out through gritted teeth as the back of his hand feels as if it had just been set on fire. On it is a strange, glowing red tatoo-like mark.
"What the-" Shirō wonders out loud.
"It's a Reiju, or Command Spell, Shirō," Saber explains before he could even finish. "It is the three claims on a Servant's obedience, and the life of a Master. Please do not use it thoughtlessly."
"It's the mark of-" Shirō starts, but before he can finish, the air around Saber seemingly changes.
"Shirō, heal my wounds," Saber requests - commands with respect, rather - with a cold voice. Her attention is not on Shirō, but on something that seemed to be past the wall on which her gaze was fixated.
But Shirō understood what she wanted. She was expecting him to heal her.
"Wait, you're asking me? Sumimasen, but even though I do know one of that kind, unfortunately I can't perform it at this time... my mana is extremely low at the moment," he replies, earning a slight frown from Saber, though it was not out of annoyance. In fact, she seemed to accept that her Master had been fending for himself until she had been summoned.
"Then I shall face them as I am now," Saber replied as she turned to gaze up at the night sky. "The regeneration only healed the outside, but one more fight should not be a problem."
"One more...?" Shirō asked.
"From what I can sense, there are two enemies outside," Saber replies. "Judging by their presence, it should only take a few seconds to defeat them."
And just like that, Saber jumps lightly, disappearing over the wall just as Lancer had done earlier.
"Enemies outside?!" Shirō repeats, and as soon as the words are out of his mouth, the implications hit him as a hard as a truck could.
"Hold on, you can't take on two Servants alone!!!" he shouts with disbelief. His body once again moves all on its own as he rushes towards the gate of his home full force.
Gasping for air, Shirō unlocks the gate despite his trembling hands and pushes through it so fast he could've been jumping through it.
"Saber, where are you?!" he shouts as he looks around in total darkness. Of all the times it had to happen, the moon had to be hidden now. But he had one thing to go by: sound. He had heard something, almost metallic.
He rushes blindly through the darkness to a small road that seemingly has no sign of anybody on it.
He sees Saber confronting the mysterious crimson-clad warrior he had seen earlier that evening. Effortlessly, Saber takes his guard down and raises her sword arm once more to finish him off.
"Archer! Dematerialize!" Rin shouts, the Second Reiju on her right hand lighting up for an instant before vanishing. Archer, heeding the power of the Reiju, grits his teeth as he vanishes, saving him from Saber's lethal blow.
Rin now realized her error, as Saber now turned her attention to the young magus. Rin took a jewel, one that contained a very powerful wind spell, and threw it at the oncoming Saber. The jewel never reached Saber as it exploded upon an invisible barrier in front of Saber.
'Incredible! This Servant's Magic Resistance must be completely superior to just shrug off a spell as powerful as that...' she thinks, but that single moment of distraction is all Saber needs to launch an attack.
Rin managed to dodge it, but the overwhelming force knocked her to the ground, leaving her helpless and immobile. She stares up as Saber points an invisible blade at her.
'Otou-sama... Forgive me. It looks like... Tōsaka Rin will lose this war after only three days...' she thinks as she stares up at the beautiful, golden-haired maiden whose hand moves to end Rin's life.
"YAMERO, SABER!!!!!!!"
That single shout freezes Saber's movements. She looks back at her Master with a look combining shock and amazement.
"Don't. Please don't do it, Saber," he says, trying his best to sound forceful, yet his tone gave it all away. He was pleading for her opponent's life.
"Why do you stop me, Shirō?" Saber asks. "She is Archer's Master. We have to kill her here."
Shirō realizes that, even with him intervening, Saber has no intention of stopping. She truly intends to kill that person at her feet!
"I'm telling you to wait!!!" Shirō says.
Saber simply regarded Shirō with her gaze, not speaking.
"Don't, Saber!!! I know that person!!! I refuse to have the blood of someone I know on my hands!!!" Shirō continues. He recognized the voice that shouted, but he couldn't be too sure. But if it was her, then...
Saber is shocked into silence by his answer. Her dumbfounded expression is one that embodies just how much she had been taken aback.
During this entire conversation, the hostile magus had laid there, as if totally forgotten, yet Saber's unseen sword hovered mere centimeters away from her throat.
"So? Will Saber-san lower her sword or not?" she suddenly speaks. Saber's concentration is once again on her blade as she turns her attention back to the magus on the ground.
"Give up," Saber replies coldly. "I have no sword to lower in front of an enemy."
"Even if your Master says to lower it?" she asks, a confident smile on her face. "Wow, so even a Servant as loyal and noble as Saber would defy her Master's will?"
Saber grits her teeth, out of annoyance or frustration, nobody knew. However, to the benefit of all, she lowers her blade.
"I see. Then I can stand up, right?" the mystery person asks as she rises.
Shirō thinks that the person seems shameless as she brushes off her rear end like that. Yet when Shirō laid eyes on her face, to say he was shocked was the understatement of the century.
"So, it is you..." he says, addressing the mystery magus. "Tōsaka Rin!"
Tōsaka Rin regarded Shirō with a cool gaze. "Hai. Konbanwa, Emiya-kun," she greeted, giving him the biggest smile he'd ever seen from the normally detached, aloof school idol. Well, being both magi, they'd kept a secret friendship for a while now, but this was probably the biggest of her sincere smiles. Her other smiles were forerunners of impending doom.
"I'm a Master, Emiya-kun. Well, we're the same, so it's not really something to hide," Rin replies easily.
Before the conversation could continue any further, out of nowhere, a voice calls out, shattering the uneasy peace that had come to settle.
"It is fortunate that you lowered your blade, Servant. It would be unbecoming for one of the Saber-class to openly defy her Master's wishes, would it not?" the unseen person says, putting Saber on her guard once more. She brandished her invisible blade, placing herself between Shirō and the darkness that covered the street.
"Try behind you," a voice whispers in Saber's ear, and before she knows it, a blade is up against her neck, startling her. She sees the hostile Servant out of the corner of her eye. Wild, spiky black hair, white coat, and a very sharp blade on her throat.
"Lower your blade, my Servant. There is no need for hostilities, nor is there a need for you to show off," the unseen speaker says, his modulated voice tinged with amusement. The three present turn towards the source of the voice to find a young, blue and silver-haired man walking towards them. He was clad in a stylish azure trench coat, with a white scarf draped over his neck and shoulders. Tōsaka was disappointed that the new arrival had decided to hide his face, yet his two-toned blue and silver hair somehow reminded him of someone she knew well.
"Gomenasai. I shall be more careful in the future, Master," the white-clad warrior replies. In an instant, he had vanished from Saber's side and reappeared next to his Master, his blade sheathed once more. Not that they could actually tell: it wasn't even there.
"That's better. Now," he says, focusing his attention back on the three standing before him. Four, if you count the invisible Archer. "I can see that both of you are fellow Masters. Tōsaka Rin, Master of the King of Bows, Archer, and Emiya Shirō, Master of the King of Swords, Saber."
That statement shocked the two like a lightning bolt on a clear day. The same thought ran through both their heads at the same time, though they would have no way of knowing this.
'How?! How does he know our names?!'
Rin, ever the headstrong girl she was, voiced her discontent first. "Alright, listen. You better tell us who you are and how you know our names. Otherwise, we'll kill you," she threatened. What she hadn't expected was to hear the mystery Master chuckle.
"Well, aren't you quite the hostile one? I didn't come here to start a fight, but if you aren't going to listen to reason, I have no qualms about beating you three - oh, excuse me, four - down."
That one left a mark in Rin's confidence and morale. 'He knows Archer's here... can he see him, or has he been watching me from the start?'
Before Rin could say something else, Saber rushed forward, poised to cut the man down where he stood. She leaped into the air and drew her blade up over her head with both hands, ready to cut the man down where he stood.
The blue and silver-haired magus before them let out a little sigh. "I suppose you won't buy it? Very well. Saber!" he calls out to his own Servant, and quick as a flash, the two swordsmen are deadlocked, an invisible blade against the edge of an enormously long katana, its blade only unsheathed enough to repel the blond girl's invisible weapon.
Saber's eyes are wide with shock, but not because she had been blocked. It was because of the name the Master had used to refer to the Servant before her. 'Saber...? What is this? This Servant before me also belongs to the Saber-class? There is a second Saber in the Heaven's Feel?!'
The black-haired swordsman took advantage of her momentary loss of focus to break the deadlock and send Saber flying with a roundhouse kick. She cried out in pain as she hit the ground hard, skidding to a stop just in front of Shirō.
"Saber! Are you alright?" he shouts frantically, helping Saber up off the ground. He looks up and sees Saber's opponent glance at his Master, as if waiting for an order.
The blue and silver-haired magus raises his hand, and his Servant nods before sheathing his blade once again and taking his place behind his Master.
"I don't want a fight. I simply want to talk," he repeats, his voice carrying slight undertones of displeasure at the tense situation. If he was nervous, he didn't show it.
Before Shirō could make any rash comments, Rin once again stepped in. "First of all, how can you prove to us that you aren't just waiting for us to drop our guard just so you can stab us in the back?!" So much for that. She wasn't any calmer.
The magus replied, and Rin could swear that underneath that scarf was one very infectious grin.
"That's simple to prove, Tōsaka Rin. You can trust me..." he says as he takes hold of his scarf and lowers it from his face. "... because let's just say you know me better than you think you do."
Rin and Shirō are both stunned into silence by the sight of the silver-haired man's face. They both knew him from their own school.
The ebony-haired girl spoke first. "A-anata! Masaoka-kun?!" she shouted, clearly distraught and at the same time surprised to find out that one of her closest friends happened to be a Master in the Holy Grail War.
"M-Masaoka? Masaoka Seiro? From Class 2-A?" Shirō asked, clearly too stunned to think of anything better to say.
"That's right. Well met, Rin. And it's good to meet you, Emiya Shirō," Seiro replied, secretly relieved that Rin hadn't gone out and killed him. Yet.
Chapter 1. End.
Japanese Translation Notes:
"gozu" - "brat"
"Nani" - "What"
"Kuso" - "Dammit"
"Hai" - "Yes"
"Arigatou" - "Thank you"
"Souka" - "I see"
"Baka" - "Idiot"
"Iie" - "No"
"Matte" - "Wait"
"Wakarimashita" - "I understand"
"Yamero" - "Stop"
"Konbanwa" - "Good evening"
"Gomenasai" - "Forgive me/ I'm sorry"
"Anata" - "You"
Author's Note:
Well, here's my brand-new fic... It's pretty experimental, but I will accept any and all criticism directed towards me. Let me just say flames will be ignored. ^^
So, we have a brand new set-up: too much mana in the Grail will overload it, so it summons more Servants to get rid of the excess. Now, we have the first new Master introduced, the Master of the Second Sword, Masaoka Seiro. I won't say anything about him except that the story won't revolve around him or his Servant. I will keep it centered on Shirou and co. as a whole group and will try to balance the story time each one receives so others aren't forgotten.
So, let me know what you think. Again, this is just an experiment, so I might take it down and revise it if it doesn't do too well.
P.S. Pairings are still not finalized, so don't go jumping on me.
- Kiiroi Senkō