Thou art a radiant person…
Sincere, proud…
And kind...

A soft, melodic voice drifted about the otherwise silent halls of the manor. The singer seemed unperturbed by her cold surroundings, considering she wore simple thin cloth, much more of a summer outfit. The young girl who this singing voice belonged to, a carefree spirit dancing through the manor.

And the listener of the voice, a counterpart to the girltall, clad in silver armor…

That smile of his sparkles softly,
like that shining morning sun...

The scene warped, the castle walls turning to something rougher... rockier. The listener stood steadfast, hands reaching to his side to grasp the handle of his trusted weapon...

The singer now stood above the bodies of many children, a much more somber sight.

You, who art kind,
believe in justice,
and loves goodness.

The scene shifted again, this time to a high hill, the grass stopping suddenly as the slope pitched into a cliff.

Your shining sword removes and eliminates
those who'd become the evil,
the wicked in every corner of the world―

And the listener brought his hands forward, blade gripped tight...

You're a prince from a fairy tale.


162 hours, 26 minutes ago...

Fuyuki City, Shinto.

The housing district in the eastern part of the area was a new town reclaimed from a once-empty wasteland. It had a history of its own, different from Miyama town, but a large-scale redevelopment project by the government was underway to refine it by building a modern business district over the ancient site.

The buildings in the business district-to-be were only forty percent complete, but the maintenance of the park and shopping mall in front of the station was done; future plans for the Shinto district to be clean, crystalline, pompous and non-individualistic were already in place. The city hall was also being moved, piece by piece, to Shinto; revived with modern iron, glass and mortar, it would steal all central municipal functions from Miyama. It was crowded even during the holidays. Amidst the crowd going to and fro, cowering from the northern wind, Emiya Kiritsugu disappeared, unseen and unsensible, attracting no attention.

His shirt and coat, aged and worn, and his lack of baggage gave him a slack appearance that belied him as an immigrant. In fact, he had been like that since he walked through the country up to Shinto in Fuyuki, but Japan was still his native country. Used to coming and going, he felt better here.

Feeling overwhelmed, Kiritsugu looked down at the cigarette pack, freshly bought from a vending machine. It had been been nine years since he stopped smoking. Although he could not find his favorite brand in the far land of the Einzberns, he had kicked the habit mainly out of consideration for Irisviel and Illyasviel. The moment he arrived at Fuyuki station, prepared for battle, he had thrown a coin in the vending machine out of habit. Armed with a disposable lighter bought from a convenience store to get the momentum going, he opened the cigarette pack.

The white of the row of filters was dazzling. He put one in his mouth and lit it. The movements came to him naturally, as though the past ten years had never happened. The aroma flowed into his lungs; he got used to the taste like a seasoned smoker.

Kiritsugu looked at the transformed scenery, completely different from the one he vividly remembered in his heart. He had reconnoitered Fuyuki undercover three years earlier, but Shinto had completely changed since then. Though not unexpected, it was beyond his imagination. He had to verify the surrounding neighborhood again.

Despite the slight difficulty posed by the area's transformation, Kiritsugu reached the hotel he was seeking. The lobby and the front had been straightened up, but inside it was still a cheap business hotel, and good shelter for a wide range of customers.

With great familiarity, Kiritsugu walked across the lobby to the elevator, taking it to the seventh floor. Here, in room 73, was where his faithful subordinate had been staying for the past three days.

In the world of magi, his relation with Hisau Maiya would be that of teacher and student. But to Kiritsugu, who saw magecraft as merely a tool he had acquired some knowledge in—not as the object of his quest—there was never any sense of master-and-pupil. What he taught Maiya was merely a way to fight. This, too, was only for the purpose of using her as a tool. This took place at a time when he went through countless desperate battles for an utopia that could never be fulfilled, when he had not known about the existence of the Grail; his connection to Maiya was older than the one with Irisviel. Having fought at his side, Maiya knew the blood-stained side of Kiritsugu that his wife had never seen.

He knocked a pre-arranged rhythm on the door of room 73, and it opened immediately, as though expecting him. Glancing at each other in lieu of unnecessary greetings, Kiritsugu entered the room and closed the door. Maiya had already been involved for quite a while. After Kiritsugu retreated, she arranged the preparations for the Grail War according to his instructions given from overseas, and had been busy returning to the Einzbern castle many times.

Pretty and fair-skinned, she was a beauty who used neither eye-liner nor lipstick. Her long eyes and gaze always seemed to be scrutinizing suspiciously, but she left an impression of deliberate indifference. Her jet black hair, straight like silk, caught the glance of many men, but her cold, sharp look definitely dashed the hopes of any lady-killer.

They had known each other for over ten years. When they first met, she was only a young girl. Now, no longer a child, she was characterized by a sharpened sagacity instead. That type of beauty tired normal people easily, but with Kiritsugu it was quite the opposite. She was a woman who constantly gauged reality, and could sometimes deliver accurate judgment more mercilessly than Kiritsugu. With her, Kiritsugu did not have to be ashamed of his foul plays or detest his cruelty. This put him somewhat at ease.

"There was movement in the Tohsaka mansion last night."

Maiya started by jumping straight to the point. "Please watch the recordings. By the way, the equipment has all arrived."

"Understood. First, the situation."

Nodding, Maiya switched the decoder of the television. In addition to the magecraft Kiritsugu had taught her, Maiya was particularly able in the management of regular familiars, and Kiritsugu often entrusted her with scouting or reconnaissance missions. This time again, Kiritsugu has assigned to her the surveillance of the Matou and Tohsaka mansions.

Of all the familiars, Maiya prided herself on her bat familiars, but unlike those of other magi, her bats had a miniature CCD camera tied on the abdomen. Of course, this was Kiritsugu's idea. The illusions and camouflage-bounded fields of magi were often based on using mental suggestion on an observer, but defense systems against such methods often neglected to include electronic countermeasures. Video records were helpful for reviewing, so despite slowing down the familiar, the use of cameras was a viable solution.

The entire scene of the previous night was replayed on the 13-inch CRT. The blurred image was comprehensive enough for one to understand the whole incident. Without raising an eyebrow, Kiritsugu watched the jester-suited Servant's failure to escape annihilation at the hands of the golden Servant. The defeated Servant with the ridiculous clothes was, probably, Caster.

"What do you make of it?"

"I think it went too well." Maiya replied immediately.

"The time lag between Caster's materialization and the attack on Tohsaka's Servant was too short; he was clearly waiting... Despite Caster's cleverness, he seemed to have been caught off guard."

Kiritsugu nodded. Truly his pupil; Maiya's conclusion matched his.

"The more I think about it, the more it seems like a pre-arrangement. Why did Tohsaka expose his Servant like that if there was such a huge gap in ability?"

The Tohsaka family had obviously accumulated experience from the second and third Grail fights. There was no way they did not know that the other Masters would be observing the Tohsaka mansion.

The Holy Grail War was a confrontation between heroes of great fame. The legend of these heroes held a lot of information on their fighting patterns as well as their strong and weak points. It was natural that the skills and weaknesses of the Heroic Spirits were known from the beginning. Thus, it became an ironclad rule to hide the true identity of the Heroic Spirits in the war between Servants. In light of this, Heroic Spirits were all referred to by class to avoid revealing their true name.

Last night, Tohsaka had left two clues to the other Masters: his Servant's appearance, as well what seemed to be a Noble Phantasm.

Neither were sufficient to pin the Servant's identity with certainty, but it was a risk easily avoided nonetheless. If he wanted to bring Caster down, he could have done so out of plain sight.

"Showing us something so unnecessary—that could only mean he wanted us to see it."

Kiritsugu nodded again at Maiya's conclusion.

"Possibly. If there is any merit in doing that, then the explanation is obvious. Maiya, what happened to Caster's Master?"

"Kotomine Kirei? He went to the Church last night and requested the supervisor's protection." Hearing that name, Kiritsugu's eye lit with a cold ghastliness.

"Maiya, send a familiar to the Fuyuki Church. One will be fine for now."

"... Is it all right? The church is an area where aggressions between Masters are prohibited."

"Only if the supervisor finds out. Stay at a reasonable distance. Don't overdo it. He does not need to know."

Maiya frowned at Kiritsugu's incomprehensible instructions. "Should I not observe the Church?"

"You can just make it a regular patrolling. What you must concentrate on is staying absolutely undiscovered."

"Yes, understood."


162 hours, 7 minutes ago…

While Emiya Kiritsugu and Hisau Maiya were getting cozy in a cheap hotel in Shinto, the Volare Italia charter from Germany was landing on the F lane of the airport beside Fuyuki City. Though both were experiencing the frozen wind of winter, the intensity of Japan's winter could not be compared to that of the land where the Einzbern castle lay. Looking up at the soft sunlight of the early afternoon, Irisviel von Einzbern felt her heart lighten.

"So this is the country Kiritsugu was born in."

It was a good place. Although one could get to know a place through pictures and such, Irisviel felt refreshed feeling the air in person. Her heart was not the only thing lightened. On this trip to Japan as a passenger, she could not bring her dresses from the castle; to get to know the town, she had to bring common clothing as much as possible. In short heeled boots and a knee-long skirt, her movements felt reborn.

Nonetheless, being an Einzbern who had lived a secluded life oblivious to the common sense of the outside world, her sense of fashion was uncommon enough. Her silk blouse, knee-high long boots, and casual coat with silver fox fur; everything seemed to come straight from a high class fashion display window. She was very visibly a rare gem, from a particular birthplace, with a particular fashion. Those were clothes clearly fit for a fashion model, but to Irisviel who had grown up alongside polished jewelry, it seemed intimate enough. Irisviel even considered it camouflage in town areas, but it was simply impossible for a beauty like her to disappear into the general public in the first place.

"So, Saber? What did you think of the plane ride?" One step ahead on the runway, Irisviel asked the Servant, who was leaving the extended section.

"No comment in particular. It was more wearisome than expected." There was no lie in his words. His emerald eyes were perfectly serene.

"Oh, that's too bad. I thought you would be more surprised and interested."

"... Irisviel, you must think me a primitive person."

To the frowning Saber, Irisviel replied with a bright laugh, void of any ill intention.

"Flying in the sky is no surprise for a Heroic Spirit?"

"Not exactly. But as a Servant summoned in the present world, I have received information about this era. Also, as Saber, I possess the skill of Riding. At this moment, I might even be able to ride this airplane."

Hearing that, Irisviel's eyes rounded with astonishment.

"You could ... pilot it?"

"Probably. My riding skill applies to all vehicles. If I can sit on a saddle or seize a bridle, I can manage the rest by instinct."

Irisviel burst into laughter from Saber's expression. He hadn't even seen the cockpit. What would he think when seeing one filled with gauges instead of a saddle and bridle? Saber was correct about his skills, though. The Riding Skill of the Saber class allowed the use of any vehicle, save for phantasmal beasts and divine beasts. If needed, he could definitely handle modern vehicles, such as a car or bike.

"I'm still a little disappointed. You must be the first Servant ever to travel in a plane with a flesh-and-blood body."

"I must apologize about that. I am not a good point of reference."

"Oh, it's fine, don't worry. That isn't what I meant."

Foreign Masters had to travel to Japan by one way or another, but Irisviel and her Servant posing together as a party of two must be an exception. The cause of this lay with Saber. Despite being a Heroic Spirit, he had limits other Servants did not have. The gravest among these was that he could not dematerialize; he did not have the ability to cancel his physical form to move at high speed or cut down the mana consumption from his Master when at rest, something all Servants should be able to do. It was not that there had been a mistake in Kiritsugu's contract or his summoning: the soul of the hero Arthur apparently functioned differently from other Heroic Spirits, for reasons unknown even to Irisviel.

The most problematic burden was that he was unable to turn invisible and hide his existence from other people. There was no way he could walk around in his armored suit, so Saber had to dress up as a human, costumed in modern fashion, and accompany Irisviel. But Irisviel found it rather welcome that Saber would follow her in convenient garments.

"I am glad to travel with you, Saber. I never tire of looking at you."

"Irisviel, why the change?"

"No, It's nothing. Don't mind that."

Hiding a smile, Irisviel turned her head away. Saber found the reaction suspicious.

"When you laugh like that, you're holding something back. Tell me frankly what it is."

"It is not a problem if you always remain in physical form, really. That way, I get to have fun choosing your clothes."

How carefree—Saber wanted to reply, but sighed instead. Being unable to dematerialize was a drawback the Master could not deal with. Enjoying oneself was not the primary objective, but telling the Master it was no laughing matter would be mistaking the cause for the end.

"Irisviel, are these clothes fit for moving around in town?"

"Yes ... I guess. It is my first time in this country as well, so I am a little anxious."

A third party with common Japanese sensibility would be able to tell that Irisviel was different. Irisviel had taken Saber's measurements prior to their departure and issued an order for modern clothing to a tailor at the Frankfurt airport: a dark blue dress shirt and necktie, with a dark continental French suit. That would be perfect for disguising him in this society.

Entrusting luggage concerns to two accompanying Einzbern maids, Irisviel and Saber turned to the customs house with empty hands. After the two maids had sent the luggage to the Einzbern villa in the forest on the outskirts by a different route, they arranged their return home. They were not to remain at Irisviel's side for this Grail War; there was no need to endanger people who were not related. On that matter, Irisviel would take care of her personal belongings by herself, and Saber, ever strong of heart, would remain by her side.

Completing without delay the necessary procedures to enter the country, it did not take much time before they were allowed to get to the airport lobby. On their way there, every single official they passed was astounded by the pair, unable to avert their eyes as they passed. This made the two uneasy.

"Is there something wrong with my clothes?" Sensing the attention of the people coming and going in the lobby, Saber muttered awkwardly.

"Well, it might be too elegant ..."

Irisviel could only smile bitterly, but she too was the center of attention. At any rate, the two of them were unequaled beauties. Their eccentric clothing, a grand departure from the common sense of the place, balanced their matching act well. They garnered much attention from their surroundings; not just odd glances, but envious ones as well.

"Let's go, Saber. Worrying won't change anything." With that, Irisviel pulled Saber's hand with a bitter face. "At last, we are in Japan. We must enjoy ourselves as much as possible before the battle begins."

"No, Irisviel, the issue is not one of enjoyment—"

As Saber's mumbling trailed off, Irisviel sprang to find a taxi. Saber had not noticed her liveliness until that moment.


Soon after the two arrived in Fuyuki City, sunset colored the western sky of the late afternoon.

"How lively." The hired car drove down the park plaza in front of the station. Irisviel's eyes lit expressively as she took in the sights of the evening traffic jam. But Saber was studying the surroundings, like a commander reading the topography of a battlefield.

"Kiritsugu has already arrived, hasn't he?"

"Yes. He arranged to reach half a day before us."

Already inside the country, Kiritsugu was to hide his existence and follow a different route from Irisviel's group. He would take a passenger flight to the international airport at Shin-Osaka and switch to the railroad headed to Fuyuki City.

"Will we meet up again?"

"It's all right. He will be the one to come to us."

Her face betrayed nothing, but Saber was quite shocked by Kiritsugu and Irisviel's plans, which she found unsatisfactory.

"In that case, what is the plan now?"

"Right ... For now, we shall observe the changes in the situation and adapt ourselves accordingly."

"Do you mean we have nothing to do?"

"Exactly."

Irisviel gave an impish smile that looked mischievous to the discouraged Saber.

"Such a waste, after we finally arrived in this distant country."

Smiling while watching the traffic jam around her, Irisviel strolled, a little dispirited. Saber, at her side and feeling confused, firmly followed her pace.

"And—what about trying to find an enemy Servant?"

"Hmm. No way." Refusing blankly, Irisviel turned around, staring expectantly at her partner. "Say, Saber. Since we have such an opportunity, we could look around the town. It must be interesting."

For an instant, Saber was taken aback by the unexpected proposition, but immediately straightened up with a stern face.

"Irisviel. We cannot be unprepared. We have to consider the land of Fuyuki we are walking in as enemy territory already. The Grail War has already started."

"Yes. I depend on you for that, Saber. You will know if we are near a Servant, right?"

"Well ... That is correct."

Dematerialized or not, Servants could perceive the presence of other Servants. Of course, each Servant has his or her own affinity with this searching ability, and some, like Assassin, have the ability to erase their presence.

"As Saber, I am able to perceive a presence in a radius of up to roughly two hundred meters. But an opponent with the right ability could tamper with that."

"I see. But right here and right now, there is no Servant targeting us, is there?"

"Indeed. But—"

"Then let's have a look around. We don't have to search."

To seek a hidden opponent, striding across town provocatively was certainly an acceptable plan, albeit an audacious one. Since Saber had no active searching ability, there was no other way to carry out a search. Being unable to dematerialize, he also did not have the choice of covert espionage. But Saber sensed that Irisviel, rather than acting on a coherent plan, had a hidden motive. Actually, Saber could not see Irisviel's invitation as anything more than a sightseeing jaunt.

"Irisviel, we should regroup somewhere and reunite with Kiritsugu to work out a plan. Hasn't the Einzbern family prepared a castle on the outskirts of the town?"

"Well ... Yes, we have that." Now Irisviel started mumbling. Her behavior was inappropriate for a crisis and she knew it. Guessing her intentions, Saber asked again.

"Why do you insist so much on visiting this town?"

"You know ... This is my first time." Irisviel looked down nervously. Saber gasped in shock.

"—In submitting to the Grail, I gained some knowledge of this world. I know about this land that will become a battlefield. Irisviel, this town isn't really a place for sight-seeing, especially since there are no particularly famous places."

"No, that's not it. That is not what I—" Like a child adamantly refusing to give any explanation at first, Irisviel hesitated a little, finally confessing frankly. "I—this is the first time I have been outside."

"... Huh?" Not understanding initially, Saber listened, dumbfounded.

"Like I said, this is like a rebirth—it is the first time I have stepped foot in the outside world."

"You have stayed in that castle all your life since birth?"

Not liking the conclusion, Irisviel hung her head in shame, giving a small nod.

"I am a puppet created only for this Grail War. The elder has always told me I had no need to go out."

Saber had not lived a joyful life as King Arthur either. But he could not avoid feeling a sense of compassion toward this person who, like a caged bird, had been imprisoned in that frozen castle since birth.

"Of course, it's not like I'm completely ignorant about things, especially after Kiritsugu came. He told me a lot about the scenery and happenings of the outside world, through movies or pictures. About New York, Paris, and all the people in the world. About Japan too, of course." Smiling miserably, Irisviel looked at the traffic jam around. "But ... this is the first time I have seen this world with my own eyes. Perhaps I am being a little too happy and merry. I'm sorry."

Saber nodded, quietly turning his eyes, and gently offered an arm wrapped in his dark suit to Irisviel.

"... Saber?"

"This is my first time in this town, but escort is the duty of a knight. So I will do my best. Then, if you please."

"—Thank you." Her eyes lit with a bright joy, Irisviel entwined her arm around Saber's elbow. There was still much time left to nightfall.


Saber and Irisviel easily drew all the attention in the middle of the business district. The young woman was full of dignity, her glittering silver hair and cashmere coat by no means pompous but definitely fitting, and holding her arm was a good-looking young man with a brilliant face. That was not a combination one would see outside of a cocktail party filled with movie stars. The two silver-screen visions leisurely strode down the road in the Japanese provincial city. Anyone walking down the same road would stop to look, forgetting for an instant to keep walking.
The two did not have the harmony of a couple at a date, nor the admiring eyes of sightseeing tourists; they only followed the flow of their journey, walking aimlessly.
Sometimes they would stop suddenly, gazing gaily at the setting sun shining in the windows of buildings and showroom windows; nothing extraordinary. They did not enter any shops to make any expense nor did they sit at any cafe terrace to rest. Like two understanding outsiders, they simply slipped into the noisy surroundings, watching the working life of the city from a fixed distance.

Unnoticed, the winter sun had sank completely behind the mountain range, leaving the curtain of night which revealed a different face of the urban landscape. Irisviel sighed, entranced by the rainbowed illumination of the twinkling scenery. The world was probably full of towns more beautiful at night than Fuyuki City was, but Irisviel was nonetheless deeply moved by the night before her eyes, as though touching a treasure for the first time.

"It's really beautiful. The life of people alone makes the night dazzling."

Irisviel's murmur was somewhat emotional, and Saber silently nodded in response. The political world she once lived in was a distant space-time apart from this place, yet no emotion sprang from this scene she was seeing for the first time. The tranquility was surface-deep; her nerves were like needles. The place was already enemy territory—that knowledge remained unchanged.

Saber was definitely not a Servant who excelled at searching for the enemy; depending on the situation, an enemy Servant would likely find him first if he was wandering about. It was hard to think that any enemy would pounce straightforwardly while everyone was looking, but a well-timed surprise attack at that point would not be out of the question. Even so, he complied with Irisviel's wish to fully enjoy herself freely for a brief time without any reproach; he had that much confidence in his sword.

He was the Heroic Spirit summoned in the strongest class—the Saber class. No Servant could surpass him in close combat. He was certain he could clear an escape route from the battlefield under any disadvantage. Actually, a surprise attack would be desirable. He would withstand it fair and square, turn the tables and go in for the kill. If anyone was enough of a fool to make him their enemy, he might remind them that the Saber class was not only about gallantry.

"Hey, Saber, do you want to see the beach next?" Irisviel could not hide her excitement, and the young man nodded with a smile. Tension would pick up no opponents. He'd sworn to protect Irisviel, and he would carry it through to the end while Irisviel enjoyed herself. That was the strength of his enormous pride as a knight.

There was a vast seaside park on the opposite shore of the big bridge crossing the Miongawa. Late at night, two people strolled on the lone walkway with nobody in sight. The north wind from the sea blew softly, uninterrupted, dancing with Irisviel's long silver hair like the trail of a shooting star. Dating couples hated the chill of winter nights here and only came in summer, but Irisviel, seeing the sea for the first time, did not care about the cold; she had grown accustomed to it back at home.

"We should have come here when it wasn't dark." Watching the sea at night fill the bleak darkness, Saber said so in an apologetic tone. But Irisviel, unconcerned, concentrated on the horizon that had sunk in the dark.

"It's fine. The sea at night is beautiful too, mirroring the night sky like this."

Listening to the endless roar of the waves, a smile crept over Irisviel's face. She had greatly enjoyed the day's walk; her fair-skinned cheeks were flushed. With her innocent and naïve smile, she looked more like a young woman of tender years than a married woman with a child.

"I had no idea … that walking through an unknown town with a gentleman would be such an enjoyable experience."

"Then I presume my company has been satisfactory?" Saber chaffed her mockingly; a departure from his usual stubborn Heroic Spirit self.

"It was faultless. Saber, you were a superb knight today."

"You honor me, Princess."

The young man in the dark suit bowed courteously. Irisviel, a little embarrassed, turned her head toward the sea.

"Saber, do you like the sea?"

"In my time, my country… What lay beyond the sea was always the enemy. It was annoying and not very attractive."

"I see …" At Saber's reply, Irisviel's expression clouded a little.

Saber too held a clouded expression. Not unknown to human expression, he duly noted his companion.

"But you, Irisviel, would you not want to walk through the city with Kiritsugu rather than with me?" This time, it was Irisviel's face that was crossed by a smile.

"He … cannot do that. He would be pained by mixed feelings."

Not grasping the meaning of her reply, Saber made a dubious face. "Can't Kiritsugu enjoy his time with you?"

"Not that. He would certainly enjoy it as much as I do … That is why he cannot. For him, happiness is a pain."

Carefully analyzing these words, Saber tried to comprehend the contradiction of the man Emiya Kiritsugu.

"—He is a man who cannot value his happiness; Is that the weakness he bears?"

"Maybe. He is always punishing himself deep inside. If he is to keep chasing his dream, he has to be cold-hearted."

Irisviel gazed distantly at the sea, thinking of her husband hiding somewhere in the city, preparing for the same goal. Saber reflected for a moment upon those words. The day's discussion had moved from sea-gazing to an unexpected topic, even though they had intended to end the day on a pleasant note. Nonchalantly, she held and pulled Irisviel's upper arm. Her attention drawn by the gesture, Irisviel settled down and exchanged a look with Saber.

"An enemy Servant?"

"Yes."

The sensation did not change. From under cover, a hundred meters to the side, they were leaving clear signals provocatively. Clearly conscious of Saber's presence, they did not shorten the distance, slowly distancing themself instead—

"They seem to be inviting us."

"Such honesty. Do they want to choose the battlefield?" Without any trace of tension in her voice, Irisviel replied with cool calm. In such a battle situation, that was proof of her complete faith in Saber. Saber's inner judgment, revised, started to favor his mistress.

"It appears the opponent has the same expectations we do. Making the opponent bite on their trail … They are a Servant looking for a frontal fight, just like you, Saber, aren't they?"

"The Lancer or Rider class; a straightforward opponent." At Saber's nodding, Irisviel again returned a fearless smile.

"Then, shall we take on the invitation?"

"I wish the same."

It was dangerous to blindly take the bait and follow the enemy to a field at their advantage, but Saber was not so frail as to fear such tricks, and his mistress did not underestimate her Servant either. As the presence of the enemy grew more distant, Saber started walking with a quiet self-confidence. Irisviel, following likewise, switched on a palm-sized device hidden in her pocket. This was a transmitter given by Kiritsugu, a device for him to track the position of Irisviel's group from a different route.

Irisviel trusted Saber's power. An enemy of lower rank than Saber would be killed in a blink with one sword strike from her proud Servant—she expected an easy development. As far as possible, she wanted her knight to end the fight before Kiritsugu entered the battle.


154 hours, 15 minutes ago…

The broad majestic bridge that straddled the widening Mion river spanned over 665M and exceeded three roads in width. The top of the arch was over fifty meters high. Anyone who stood so high up and faced the full force of the sea gale would miss a step and fall to his end in the river below. Atop that cold steel frame, Waver Velvet had nothing like a lifeline; he clung on tightly with both arms and legs. Naturally, this required giving up the dignity and composure he usually had. Right next to him, his Servant Rider sat cross-legged with odious dignity.

"Ri-de-r, quick ... Let's go down ... Now!" His teeth chattering from the cold and terror, Waver's complaining voice was like the blowing wind to the giant Servant.

"This place is perfect for a look-out. It isn't the time for fancy sight-seeing in a high place."

Sipping from the wine bottle in his hand from time to time, he rambled while looking down at the west bank of the bridge, toward the wide seaside park hidden from the estuary. Waver could not see them, but what Rider was looking at were marks that a Servant had been leaving around for the past four hours. Rider had wandered the streets looking for contact with an enemy, but he only noticed that Servant late in the afternoon. While pondering the option of jumping them, Rider kept observing the Servant from a distance, without advancing. When Waver asked about it, Rider answered with a snort.

"They're clearly luring us out. For them to not pick up on us is strange indeed. I'm not the only one either; other Servants must be studying this behavior as well. An impatient Master would just get tired of waiting at some point, or something. That's what we should be looking forward to."

Rider's plan had no opening as far as Waver could tell; it was unexpectedly perfect. This broad-minded giant Servant could set up sly tactics too. Indeed, as Rider said, only a helpless fool would take the bait and accept the challenge. Those who fell for it would be feeding on each other, decreasing the count. However confident a provocative Servant was, anyone other than Rider seeking a brawl would be quickly dispatched. No matter who was defeated, Rider could easily smash the winner. There was definitely profit to be gained from the fights of others.

Once decided, it became a matter of endurance. Remaining at a fixed distance from the Servant wandering aimlessly in the city, Waver and Rider followed, still surveying. There were obvious reasons for taking a high vantage point, but there were limits as well. Being no Servant himself, Waver with his flesh-and-blood body would definitely die if he fell.

"Co-come down! No, get the hell down! I-I've-I've had it!"

"Ah, just wait. You're such a restless guy. Sitting and waiting is also part of the battle." Sipping from his wine bottle, Rider didn't even look at Waver's half-crying face as he answered gratuitously.

"High places are dangerous"—such common understanding hadn't yet been established between the two.

"If you're bored, read the book I entrusted to you. It's a good book."

At that, Waver remembered the stupid weight in the knapsack hanging on his shoulder. In such a situation, where even one unnecessary gram of weight could not be afforded, the poetry anthology with its thick hard cover was dead weight. That was the book Rider looted from the library when he arrived in the present world. The Iliad, written by the poet Homer of ancient Greece—the epic poem describing the Trojan war, in which gods and humans fought against and alongside each other. The atlas' purpose was understandable. From his exaggerations of world conquest, it was clear that Rider took great interest in the geography of the modern world, even if such a notion sounded foolish. But what of the poetry anthology? Rider had set up a library at home even though he was preparing for war, yet he still insisted on bringing the Iliad with him. Naturally, if he wanted to bring anything that was not part of his regular equipment, he would need to remain materialized; if he was to dematerialize and stay hidden from other people, then Waver would have to carry that luggage. Rider insisted that the book was "preparation for war," but how on Earth could a book that had nothing to do with war strategy be helpful on the battlefield?

"Rider ... Why did you bring this book?"

At Waver's bitter question, the Heroic Spirit answered with a grave expression.

"The Iliad is very profound. At the height of battle, I suddenly get the urge to read a verse of poetry. At a time like that, it irks me when I can't reread something immediately."

The answer sounded like utter nonsense, but fear stopped him from arguing back.

"At a time like that, you mean ... in battle?"

"Yes." Rider nodded nonchalantly, as though the reply was perfectly normal.

"... But how?"

"With my left hand of course, while I hold my sword in my right. If I need to hold the bridle with my left hand, I get a page to read it aloud."

Waver was at loss for words.

"It's not that surprising. The warriors of my era all lived a life of battle. Battling while drinking and eating, embracing women while battling, battling even while sleeping. Any one of them

could do that."

Ask him anything and he would not stop talking. He did seem capable of doing all that, but ...

"You're kidding, right?"

"Of course. You fool." He sniggered and delivered another exploding flinch to Waver's forehead.

"Gyaa—h!"

He did not have the time to worry, let alone dodge. At any rate, Waver was clinging with all his might to the steel frame, arms and legs all occupied. He could not even rub his pained forehead, so he did the only thing he could—howl with an unbecoming shriek. "Hey, kid, anyone would laugh at a joke like that. If you're turning blue from that, it's because you have no guts."

Ignoring Rider's frank laugh, the magus strongly regretted his choice of Heroic Spirit as he shed tears from the pain on his forehead.

"I wanna go back ... go back to England ..."

"I told you not to be in such a hurry. Look here, things are moving at last."

"... Eh?"

Rider pointed at the seaside park with a stern chin.

"Even I, the King of Conquerors, had only just noticed, but yes, it seems there was one more Servant in this park. This guy isn't hiding anything either. On the contrary, he's nearing the one who arrived after us."

"Then, then—"

"The two seem to be heading for the port. That's a provocation. That's it. We'll study their fight."

His eyes started to take on the sharp gleam of a beast as he gave a threatening laugh. Though only a spectator, the soul of the Heroic Spirit Alexander was already on the battlefield. In Waver's heart—his body still unable to move on the steel frame—his misery was overriding the sense of reliability he should have felt from Rider. Moreover, he was occupied by the thought that nothing mattered if he fell down anyway.


The west bank of the seaside park was extended by a row of storehouses. The block, which contained harbor facilities, also separated the eastern industrial area from Shinto. With the arrival of night, the pedestrian traffic ceased, and the street lights shone uselessly on the asphalt, further emptying the scenery. Unmanned derrick cranes were turned toward the dark sea, like an eerie flock of huge fossilized dinosaurs. Indeed, this was a suitable place for Servants to confront each other, hidden from the public view. Large vehicles drove on the four-lane road by day, but Saber and Irisviel now walked in their place, bearing all the magnificence of duelists heading to a rendezvous.

The enemy presented themself in similar fashion without running or hiding. The tall shadow posing in the middle of the empty street emitted an extraordinary amount of mana that flaunted their superhuman prowess outrageously. The two Servants stopped, facing each other about ten meters apart. Finally, they had met the first Servant. Saber carefully observed the enemy he'd be battling to the death with. She, clad in a skin tight bodysuit uncommon of the area, plated armor around the shoulders, and having a tall stature for a woman, stood nonchalantly at the other end of the wharf.

At first glance, she was pretty charming to the eyes. In both hands, over two meters and longer than she was tall, were two spears of ruby, obviously her weapons. She belonged to one of the three knight classes—of Saber, Archer, and the Heroic Spirit of the Lance; she was without a doubt the Servant Lancer.

The strangest part though, was the fact that she wielded two spears, one with elegant patterns etched into the shaft, and an equally delicate speartip, while the other was cruder, the sharpened end resembling the front row of shark teeth, each having essentially identical crimson hues, held in resting position against her shoulders. To handle a spear with ease, the obvious stance to adopt was of course to hold one with both hands. No matter what one could do with swords, holding two spears was simply not commonplace.

"How nice of you to come. All those who were parading around today in the town have only cowered away. You are the only one valorous enough to answer my invitation." With a humble, cheerful voice, the Heroic Spirit Lancer praised Saber carelessly, without standing on guard.

"Such a pure fighting spirit ; am I correct in thinking you are Saber?"

"Yes, you are. Surely you must be Lancer?"

"Indeed. An exchange of names in a deadly fight is unusual indeed—an unobliged pleasure."

Saber loosened her feigned impudence slightly. "Certainly. Our battle is not one for honor. You too raise your spear for your Master in this era, do you not?"

"Indeed." With a strange expression, Lancer answered in a cool, bitter tone, quite unlike someone who wished a deadly exchange.

On closer inspection, she was a remarkably beautiful woman. Her intrepid features—high cheekbones and a valiant brow, softened by the more gentle characteristics of her face. Though her lips were concealed behind a dark mask, her piercing red eyes seemed to hide a quiet grief.

"Then your call for battle has been answered. I, of the Saber Class, shall be your opponent."

"Certainly. Show me your strength, oh brave warrior. Otherwise I shall take your life."

"If that's all for formalities, then let us begin."

Saber replied with a quiet smile; a smile possessed only by those who wished for a straightforward life-or-death duel.

"Then, anytime you please." Picking up the long spear on his right shoulder with a spin, Lancer raised the tip of the spear in her left hand. Her stance—both spears spread like wings—really was an unreadable style. Saber's fighting spirit boiled as well, and exploded. A surge of mana enveloped the young man's suit in a tornado-like swirl, and his body was instantly wrapped in armor of silver and blue. The armor and gauntlets created by magic were the true form of the King of Knights, as a Heroic Spirit.

"Saber ..."

Swallowing nervously, Irisviel called from behind. She could feel the fighting spirit released by both Servants, as well as the atmosphere strained by that tension. There was no room for disruption in this battle. But she could not just stand and watch, even if she was only a substitute Master.

"Take care. I can only support you with healing magecraft, but no more."

Without a word, Saber nodded.

"Leave Lancer to me. But it worries me that the enemy Master is nowhere to be seen."

Lancer's Master, choosing to stay hidden, posed a danger. Usually, a Master would stand by the Servant, instructing them as they did battle, and providing magical support. As long as Lancer's Master did not have complete faith in her, he had to be lurking nearby, watching over Lancer's battle.

"She might be preparing an odd trick. Please be cautious. Irisviel, I trust you to watch my back."

His jade eyes were calm and fearless. Trust the Heroic Spirit of the Sword. As one whom this Heroic Spirit recognized as his master, trust yourself likewise, Irisviel—Saber's eyes spoke silently.

"Understood. Saber, bring me victory."

"Yes. I will."

Nodding resolutely, Saber took a step forward, nearer the range of the long spear, where Lancer was standing on guard.

Then they each made their first leaps into combat.


154 hours, 9 minutes ago…

Upon receiving Irisviel's signal, Emiya Kiritsugu and Hisau Maiya raced in the direction of the factories. They were welcomed by a stretch of silence. There was only the howling of the sea wind in their ears, and an atmosphere as quiet and stagnant as death.

"It has already begun."

By the traces of surrounding mana alone, Kiritsugu was able to accurately judge the situation. Someone had formed a barrier; likely the work of the enemy Master. The goal was to segregate ordinary humans from the Grail War, concealing the true battlefield of the war. It was a compulsory rule to prevent magi activities being exposed to other mortals. Kiritsugu began to think as he cradled over ten kilograms of heavy sniper rifle in his arms. He had already estimated Irisviel's position from the transmitter's. However, the question of how to approach the location remained, and he had little idea where to observe once they reached it.

He had no thought of joining the battle at all. He would inspect the battle at a suitable place, attacking with the rifle only when necessary. Servants were not humans; only a Servant could wound another Servant. No matter how powerful their firearms were, they would not work on Servants. It was Saber's job to battle the opposing Servant. As long as the enemy devoted himself to the battle and did not pay attention to his Master, it was possible to win this fight.

"Up there; that looks like a good place to observe the fight."

Maiya pointed in front of them, at a derrick crane towering into the night. The control cabin hovered about thirty meters above the ground. It would be the most optimal observation point around if one managed to climb up there silently. Kiritsugu had no objections to Maiya's suggestion, but he shook his head.

"Yes, that is the ideal place to survey the battle. Someone else is probably thinking the same thing." Maiya understood his intentions without another word.

"Slip in through the eastern bank. I'll go through the west. Find an observation point that overlooks both Saber's battle and the crane."

"I understand."

Maiya disappeared into the shadows of the factories with a jog, holding the AUG assault gun in her hands. Kiritsugu checked the the transmitter as he cautiously moved in the opposite direction.


All Irisviel could do was to stare in astonishment. The battle was unfolding with extraordinary intensity. She had known it would be a merciless duel that could only take place in such a remote era. Warriors clad in armor, engaging in melee combat with all their strength, amid reflections of light off sword and spear, and the moving shadows of swinging blades.

But the amount of escaping mana and the intense heat was vastly different. Their stamping feet crushed the ground. The wind that followed the swinging of weapons crudely severed the lamp post in half. Irisviel could no longer see the movements, executed at such high speeds. She was only feeling the aftershock of the conflict between the two.

The wind ripped the peeling sheet iron on the outer walls of the warehouses like a piece of coiled tin foil. She could not fathom how iron could have been torn away so easily. Perhaps Saber's sword or Lancer's spear had brushed against its adjacent hollow space; she could not come up with any other explanation.

The wind was howling. Faced with a dimension completely at odds with nature's physical laws, the air wailed in paranoia. A chaotic storm raged on the empty street, destroying and trampling all things within. Mere hand-to-hand combat between the two was enough to ruin the entire street.

This was the Grail War. At this moment, Irisviel was experiencing an awe and wonder told only in stories. The world where myths and legends dwelled came alive vividly before her eyes. This could be the rebirth of those legends. Shafts of thunder tore the sky apart and knolls of roaring waves shattered the earth. The imaginary realm was miraculously materialized with astonishing clarity. Facing a world that she had previously thought impossible, all Irisviel could do was stare, transfixed.

At the same time, Saber was experiencing a similar wonder. Slaughter in war was a piece of cake for him. As a knight who had braved countless battles, he fought his enemies as smoothly as one would wield a knife and a fork. To the understanding of one like him, a spear was a weapon wielded with both hands. It was common knowledge. To him, Lancer's use of two spears was just a means to confuse the enemy. Since she was the Heroic Spirit of the Lance, the spear in her hands should be her Noble Phantasm. However, revealing the true name of one's Noble Phantasm in a Grail War was equivalent to exposing one's true identity. The runes carved onto Lancer's spears must be for concealing the spear's real name. It seems both her Master and she were prudent when it came to concealing their identities.

If that was the case, it would not be hard to explain why she was using two spears. Because Saber did not know which spear was the true Noble Phantasm, he had to fend off attacks from both.

Even then, the elegant spear on the right and the crude spear on the left—one of them must be Lancer's true weapon. Between the habitual weapon and the secondary weapon, feint and proper moves could be distinguished. Saber paid close attention to each of her attacks; he believed that if he could recognize the true lance, his chances of winning would improve immensely. Yet—

His own attack was deflected for the third time. Saber had to step back and wait for a better opportunity.

"What's wrong, Saber? Your attacks are not working."

Even after thirty exchanges, the knight had not managed to hit his opponent even once.

Lancer swung the lance in her left hand and approached him in a straight run. The swinging shaft covered a wide area, its strength and speed equaling a two-handed swing. No; precisely because it was used with one hand, there were now many moves that could be used which would not have worked with a two-handed stance. The lance was thrust toward Saber from an unexpected angle.

Nevertheless, a lance had its limitations. Because of its extended length, a gap would inevitably show up between two attacks. During that time, the crude spear from the right could follow in and continue to hassle Saber. Saber's attack just then was broken by said spear's immaculate defense.

Simultaneously using two lances, yet making no feint moves. This Heroic Spirit, Lancer, merged the lances in his left and right hands in a seamless choreography. What kind of devotion and practice was necessary to obtain such a strong fighting style?

... She's good...! Up to that point, Saber was still quivering before this strong opponent in his first battle, but he had now escaped that shadow of fear. Although to a casual observer, Lancer appeared to have the advantage with his incessant attacks, the truth was not so. Lancer was rather exhausted from fending off Saber's attacks since they first engaged. Despite her unbroken style, she was also powerless to dominate the situation.

For Lancer, who was capable of using her lance with just one hand, dual-wielding both spears at the same time would enable her to attack both at long-range and short-range. Taking into account the supremacy of his weaponry, she should not have been forced into his current predicament by Saber and his single sword. However—

How did the sword...? Lancer complained silently. Irisviel was not the only one who could not see the movement of the high-speed sword; even Lancer, a Servant herself, had trouble discerning the trajectory of the sword in Saber's hands.

Lancer had no way of knowing that this, too, was one of Heroic Spirit Arthur's Noble Phantasms, the threat of the Invisible Air: Barrier of the Wind King. The air surrounding the sword was compacted together with immense amounts of mana, creating impossible refractions of light, rendering the sword invisible. Although it was not much support for the Noble Phantasm, its result was very obvious in melee combat. Saber attacked his opponent with an invisible swing, and likewise blocked the countering attack with an invisible blade. Lancer's worry was understandable. Even though she could decipher Saber's attacks from his movements, she could not spring any surprise attacks on him due to his inability to judge the length of his blade. Therefore Lancer could only gauge it, keeping herself outside Saber's attacking range; only then could she use her magnificent attacks continuously to their full extent. Despite being able to block all of Saber's attacks, she had yet to find an opportunity to deal him a lethal blow.

He's quite good...! Facing the enemy she had just met, a melancholic smile emerged on Lancer's face, under the thin fabric of her concealment. The two Heroic Spirits devoted their entire selves to the fight, sparing no thought for the world around them.

No; even if they had stayed on guard, in their current state they would still have been oblivious to another figure slipping through the terrain. Not only was the newcomer a considerable distance from the sparks of the deadly blade and spear dance, he moved soundlessly in the shadows, and could bypass a Servant's detection with Presence Concealment.

A gust of wind from the sea fluttered the black robe. The sliver of a satisfactory smile emerged on the countenance beneath his shaded hood. No one would have counted on Assassin, still unknown to all participants, now stood in the evening shopping street.

Assassin hid in the perfect spot to observe the unfolding battle—the crane that loomed beside the cliff. It was situated about 500 away from the skirmish. As a Servant with eyesight surpassing a human's, he could clearly discern the conflict between the two, even spotting their expressions with accuracy. Meanwhile, the two combatants barely had time to consider if they were being spied upon. He could have remained in Spirit Form and obtained information from a much closer distance, but in that form his senses would be limited to spiritual detection; and the task he had been entrusted with was to observe with his eyes. Assassin, who understood this Heaven's Feel, silently gazed at the battle in the distance in accordance with his order.


Over fifteen kilometers away from the warehouse area where the deadly struggle continued, someone sat in darkness within the basement of Fuyuki Church, encased in the silence of night. Although his eyes were closed, he was not resting but sitting in silence, his nerves on edge. The jet-black figure took the shape of Kotomine Kirei's priest frock. From his profile, one might think that he was contemplating about certain matters. One would never guess that he was listening to the crooning of the sea breeze, and seeing before his eyes a battle scene full of sparks from the clashing of steel. What he was seeing and hearing was an unknown battle between Servants taking place in the distant warehouses... A sight identical to what his servant Caster was witnessing.

This was the result of his past three years of study—an ability called shared perception that was taught to him by Tohsaka Tokiomi. Using only a mana connection, he was able to share senses with the one who made a contract with him. In the Grail War, the ability to completely monitor the opponent from afar was quite useful. Tokiomi, who taught this magecraft to Kirei himself, had such a suggestion immediately rejected by Archer. The haughty King of Heroes would not allow another to look through his eyes, not even his own Master.

"—Something is happening around the warehouses beside the estuary of the River Mion. It appears that the initial battle has begun."

Kirei spoke, but there was no one in the darkness. Instead, there was an aged phonograph on a table, its brass horn tilted toward Kirei. As expected, the ordinary antique phonograph replied to his words in a human voice.

"Not the initial; officially, it is the second battle, Kirei." Although the sound was rather distorted, the unconstrained tone filled with composure could only be the voice of Tohsaka Tokiomi.

On closer inspection of this antique, while it could be mistaken for a phonograph with an old bell-type horn, beneath the apparatus there was neither a turntable nor stylus. In its place, the end of the horn was connected to a large jewel with a metal wire. The contraption was a mana gauge passed down in the Tohsaka family, which Tokiomi had lent to Kirei. A similar mana gauge was placed in the workshop of the Tohsaka residence; Tokiomi was also sitting in front of the device. Through synchronised vibration, the jewels on the two contraptions could transmit to each other the vibrations of the air inside their horns. This was the Tohsaka family's communication device, born of their jewel magecraft. As soon as the church of Fuyuki was put into Kotomine Risei's hands, Tokiomi had placed the jewel communicator in the church. Father Risei was Tokiomi's secret supporter, while his son Kotomine Kirei, the first to be defeated, was sent into the church for protection in the beginning of the Grail War. Logically, Tokiomi's goal was to communicate discreetly with these two people. Everything appeared completely normal on the outside; no one would have thought that Kirei could make contact with the outside world. At the same time, Kirei, who was not a magus, thought radios would do the trick as well as the strange contraption would.

The difference between radios and Tohsaka's jewel communicator was that conversations taking place through the latter could not be eavesdropped on. Upon further consideration, Tokiomi's prudent behavior was actually more beneficial for Kirei.

Because Archer refused vehemently, right now Caster and Kirei had replaced Archer as Tokiomi's scouts. Kirei used Caster's eyes to reconnoiter, and with the clairvoyance of a Master captured every minute detail.

"It ... appears to be a battle between Saber and Lancer. Saber's abilities are of an extremely high level; it is likely that most of his parameters are near A rank."

"I see. No wonder it is the strongest class. Can you see the Master?"

"I can only see one more person ... a silver-haired woman standing behind Saber."

"Hmm. It seems Lancer's Master knows he should conceal himself. Not an amateur; he understands the rules of the Grail War. Wait, did you say Saber's Master is a silver-haired woman?"

"Yes. A young albino girl. Silver-haired with red eyes; doesn't look quite human."

The other side of the brass horn contemplated silently.

"... An Einzbern homunculus? Could they still be making homunculi Masters ...? Though that is not impossible ..."

"Are you saying this woman is the Master of the Einzberns?"

"So Jubstacheit's pawns were not limited only to Emiya Kiritsugu... It's hard to believe I actually predicted this incorrectly."

For the first time in his life, a curious agitation surged in Kirei's chest; he soon realized it was disappointment.

"All in all, that woman is the key to grasping the flow of Heaven's Feel. Kirei, you must pay close attention."

"I understand. I'll send someone to follow her at all times."

Immediately after receiving those mysterious words, Kirei continued to watch the two Heroic Spirits intently. In Kirei's eyes, neither the sparkling collision of blades nor the leaping bursts of mana seemed as bright as they were just moments ago.


Kiritsugu silently set the Walther up on the mountainous shipping containers, which were piled on the container port beside the seaside cliffs. He took in the progress of the fight using the electronic sights that penetrated the cover of night.

First, the thermographic scope ... He spotted it. On the screen that displayed cool shades of black and blue, red and orange images emerged conspicuously. A thermo-diagram representing the two of them fused together like a giant flare. Further in the distance, two smaller heat patterns appeared. One of them was standing in the middle of the street witnessing this battle, the other was concealed on the warehouse roofs in a more remote location. Deciding the target of assassination was very easy.

It was indeed Irisviel who stood on the road. She seemed to be declaring that, as the partner of an excellent Saber, she should not hide away but fight a fair battle bravely and in the open. Then the heat signature on the roof would be the enemy Master, The one controlling Lancer, who was facing Kiritsugu's Saber with dual spears.

Submerged in the darkness, Kiritsugu smiled a cold-hearted smile. These were the best conditions he could hope for. Lancer's Master likely relied on illusions or presence-concealing magecraft to hide his position, thinking it would be enough; he did not consider that it could be countered with mechanical cameras. Like all other magi who died by Kiritsugu's hand, he would walk the same path as them to his destruction. Kiritsugu contacted Maiya, positioned on the other side of the battlefield, with his radio.

"Maiya, Lancer's Master is hiding on top of the warehouses, northeast from where Saber is. Can you see him?"

"No. It is a blind spot from my position."

Unfortunately, only Kiritsugu himself could fire at the moment. But it was not a problem; the distance was barely three hundred meters. With his skills, Kiritsugu could take his target's life with just one bullet. As long as he remained unaware of the sniper's presence, no magus could defend himself from a .300 Winchester Magnum round.

Setting up the bipod, Kiritsugu had just started to get into the mood—Suddenly, with a start, he turned the Walther toward the derrick crane. In that moment, all his plans seemed to be ruined.

Suppressing his disapproval, he whispered into the radio again. "Maiya, up on the crane ..."

"Affirmative here as well. It is as you suspected."

Meanwhile, a third party that was scrutinizing the battle between Saber and Lancer had also discovered the silhouette atop the crane.

It was completely unpredicted. In the Holy Grail War, one would logically stay on the sidelines rather than join in the battle eagerly. A clever Master would not step in even if other Servants jumped into the fray, but would choose to keep on observing a fight. Picking on stragglers in the aftermath of a conflict was also a good idea. Even if one was not that fortunate, it would at least allow one to know the enemy's condition.

Kiritsugu, who arrived at the battle scene first, never assumed that this fight would only have one team of observers. He had therefore given up the best position on the crane, instead choosing a place where he could observe that best position as well as the battlefield. The newcomer appeared to be oblivious to the fact that his location was already under surveillance, and occupied that ideal spot to observe the fight. Consequently, he was exposed to Kiritsugu's line of sight. However, one important factor escaped his calculations.

Kiritsugu once again looked at the pale green shape within the scope. It was an observer he had not seen before. He was covered by a dark robe, a hood over his face. With the hiding tactics, it was definitely Assassin, the still unknown Servant of this Grail War.

The problem now, aside from the oddity of the situation, was that the one currently on top of the derrick crane was a Servant. If he sniped Lancer's Master now, his opponent would be killed instantly, but at the same time it would also expose the shooter's location. Although Assassin was not a class with decisive combat strength, he was nonetheless a supernatural being—a Servant. As a magus, Kiritsugu could never win in such a fight.

He could not expect Saber to help him; distance-wise, Assassin was far closer to him than Saber was. Besides, Saber was not even aware that Kiritsugu was at the scene; he could not hope for the King to come to his aid. Saber was also fully committed in the battle with Lancer. Even though a Servant would lose their mana supply when their Master was killed, the Servant could still remain materialized in this plane with their own strength. Thus, defeating Lancer's Master did not mean that Lancer would immediately be defeated as well.

There was only one thing left—the Command Spells. The authority of the Command Spells was not limited to the scope of the powers of the Servant. If the Servant agreed with the Master's order without resistance, the Command Seal could have effects beyond the Servant's potential, bringing about a miracle. It would not be impossible to instantly transport Saber to Kiritsugu's location to hold off Assassin, but that would leave the defenseless Irisviel directly in front of Lancer.

Kiritsugu gave incessant thought to the problem, combining various elements, and finally came to a conclusion. Although it was the ideal opportunity to finish off Lancer's Master, it would have to pass for the night. With that decided, it would not do to have doubts about anything else.

"Maiya, keep an eye on Assassin. I'll observe Lancer."

"Understood."

Kiritsugu sighed soundlessly, lowered the bipod of the Walther, and continued calmly observing the scene through the scope.

Since he had decided to abandon this opportunity, Saber's effort tonight was as good as wasted. If he could refrain from showing his Noble Phantasm or escaping immediately with Irisviel, he would have to extend his thanks to her—But he was a haughty and proud Heroic Spirit, and such possibilities were only his conjectures. But it would not be a bad idea to see, just once, how capable his subordinate really is.

Grimly, he muttered under his breath, mute to the world outside. "The outcome will depend on you, King of Knights."


154 hours, 3 minutes ago…

The confrontation between Saber and Lancer had not yet progressed beyond competition. The avenue was a miserable wreck from the scars carved into it. Two storehouses had already collapsed, and a hundred square meters of asphalt had been torn up. Turned into a battlefield, the area looked like a hurricane had came and gone. In the midst of that disaster, still without a single scratch, Saber and Lancer glared at each other, preparing their next move. Neither showed any sign of exhaustion.

"There's no honor in battling unannounced, but—"

Lancer started speaking to Saber, quiet impatience flowing into both tips of her spears, her gaze keeping its freshness.

"Anyway, I have to give you credit. Coming so far without any sweat, you're one heck of a warrior."

"Such unnecessary modesty, Lancer." Holding his invisible sword, Saber put a smile on his lips once more. "Although I do not know your name, you honor me with your spearplay and your compliments. I am thankful for that."

Neither knew the other's history; they had no connection, these two warriors from a different country, but their hearts were surely connected. Both prided themselves on their well-honed skills and their strength. Having met an equal opponent, they paid mutual respect of their own free will—They both had a warrior's pride in their hearts; the two Heroic Spirits understood as much. But—

"Enough of this playtime, Lancer."

Both Saber and Irisviel were surprised by the cold voice which came from nowhere.

"Lancer's ... Master?!" Stiffening, Irisviel took a look around, but there was no human form to be seen. She could not tell whether the unnatural echo of the voice came from a man or woman, nor could she locate its source. Perhaps it was camouflage, an illusion. It did not seem the enemy would reveal themself to Irisviel anytime.

"Don't drag this fight out any further. Saber is a formidable enemy. Make it quick—you may unveil your Noble Phantasm."

Saber's face stiffened at the unseen magus's words. Noble Phantasm—He was urging his Servant to bare her fangs seriously.

"Understood, master."

In contrast to his earlier character, Lancer's voice dropped quietly to agitation, and she changed her weapon grip. Without hesitation, she launched the elegant spear in her right hand towards the Saber servant. Barely, he managed to dodge, but the unnatural sheen to the thrown spear was off to him.

"Then... Is it that spear...?"

Before Saber's eyes, Lancer hefted the deep crimson spear over her shoulder. Mana now rose from the tip of the spear like an ominous mirage.

"—That's it. From this point on, I'm out to do you in." Lancer muttered with a low voice, her lethal weapon finally exposed, and changed her stance, holding it with both hands. Likewise, Saber lowered his sword, measuring the distance between Lancer and himself with greater caution.

The exposing of one's Noble Phantasm had two effects.

One—demonstration of the immense power of one's deadliest move as its true name is announced. Take for instance Saber's ultimate secret move. He had Excalibur: the Sword of Promised Victory currently protected behind a bounded field of invisibility, but if he threw away the camouflage and shouted its true name, his sacred sword would blast a stream of light that could mow down a thousand soldiers. Truly an anti-fortress Noble Phantasm that could turn the ground into scorched earth, it was not to be used on a whim, only as a final resort.

Along with it, weapons could also carry the nature of a Noble Phantasm. In Saber's case, his Invisible Air was such an example. By itself, it did not have the capacity to annihilate the enemy; it was a Noble Phantasm more suited in battle as a piercing weapon. Although not a powerful attack, it was easier to use, and could bring victory if used well employed as a trump card.

Lancer's red spear was probably the latter, by Saber's intuition. She would continue to exchanging blows with Saber. He did not expect the next strike in this fight to be decisive. The two closed the distance, sliding their feet silently but with mounting tension.

Lancer made the first move. Unlike the earlier acrobatic freedom of her spear, this was a much simpler stab in a straight line, a stabbing thrust that guessed at the length of Saber's blade hidden by Invisible Air, casting aside all caution of it.

Reflexively, Saber went to parry Lancer's spear with his sword. It was just a common strike, neither too serious nor too sharp, but… Disaster came like a squall. Between the entangled spear and sword, an abrupt, unexpected gale rolled in and blew around.

"Gáe Bolg."


Word Count: 12,091 words

Author's Note: Alright, those of you who've stuck around, I'd like to formally apologize for my delays. Life really has it out for me, and I've been dealing with some stuff. Five months between chapters is really long, and I should've had this done weeks ago, I'm sorry.

I really hate cutting this chapter here, because it's only about halfway into Act 3, but I feel like a 20k word chapter in one sitting is a bit excessive. At the very least, I'm hoping to get the second half out before April (Don't skin me alive if I don't, School hates me, eep), so in the next couple weeks, stay tuned.