Fate/Lost Dream

Chapter 3: Clash of Gods

The sun was drifting below the skyline in Fuyuki when Lancer turned back to face his master. "It's getting late. If we do not intend to engage the enemy tonight, we should withdraw to the castle."

Marcellus deliberated for a moment. The safer practice would be indeed to wait out a few battles, both to observe some of the enemy Servants in action and to keep Lancer's own abilities hidden. But something inside him rebelled. He had not trained his entire life and crossed the world to cower in his home and peer through the eyes of familiars. As a compromise, he pointed ahead of them at the skyscraper that rose like a monstrous steel pillar from the earth.

"I want to investigate that building first." Lancer appraised the structure with a critical eye. He noticed the missing windows, the dirty, grungy exterior, and, most importantly, the signs on the fence surrounding it. "A condemned building?"

"Notice the date." Marcellus gestured to the bright yellow sign. "This structure's slated for demolition in three weeks. Until then, it's merely an abandoned building in a crowded area."

A sly smile bloomed on Lancer's face. "In other words, a place where you could expect not to be bothered much, but an enemy wouldn't be able to attack overtly without exposing the war."

Marcellus nodded. As expected, Lancer was a perceptive one when it came to strategy. "Exactly. These sorts of places are where most of the outsider masters will set up shop. We should make sure no one is in residence." He shrugged. "Even if there's no one here, it's a decent vantage point to survey the city as a whole."

"True." Lancer said, convinced. "Let's take a look."

In the growing gloom, it was easy to hop over the fence with a little reinforcement unnoticed. The interior was a dilapidated ruin. Several walls had been knocked down and there was rubble strewn here and there. A pair of vagrants were camped out in what was once a foyer, but a simple hypnosis spell convinced them to seek alternative accommodations for the night. Lancer waited patiently as Marcellus sent a familiar into the basement, but it detected not even a hint of mana, much less human habitation. With that failure, Lancer easily forced open unresponsive elevator doors and lightly hopped through the hatch in the elevator car's roof.

"Shall we?" He held down a hand for Marcellus. He easily lifted the young man, like he weighed no more than a bag of groceries and in one motion pulled Marcellus into a bridal carry. Marcellus' pride chafed at that a bit, but it was necessary for what was to follow.

Lancer tensed, bent his knees, and flew. Floors whistled past them as they ascended. When they began to slow, Lancer kicked off the wall and sent them hurtling up again. They reached the top floor in a matter of seconds, Lancer landing lightly and gently setting Marcellus down. Then it was a quick walk up the nearby staircase to get to the roof. The wind swirled Marcellus' hair and the lights of Fuyuki glittered like a million stars below them. For someone who had lived in relative isolation for most of his life, Marcellus had to admit it was an impressive sight.

Suddenly, he stiffened. They weren't alone up here. He whirled to see a woman sitting in a lotus position with her eyes closed about twenty meters away from them. She had gray hair and was wearing a simple red jacket and jeans. She looked a bit like some of the older looking homunculi in the Einzbern castle, aged but still obviously physically capable.

And, of course, she was obviously a Servant. Power radiated off her, her body almost seethed with mana. And even if it hadn't, this presence could not possibly be anything other than one of the greatest of humanity throughout all of time.

Lancer spoke first. "Hello there." He actually waved at her, like they were new friends. "Are we perhaps intruding?"

The Servant's eyes opened. Piercing blue orbs danced over the two of them and Marcellus got the distinct impression she had looked through him somehow. "Not at all. I was meditating here, true, but this is unclaimed ground so you committed no fault coming here."

"I see." Lancer replied lightly. "We just wanted a quick look around, then we'll be going."

"Lancer." Marcellus murmured quietly, trying (likely in vain) to keep the enemy Servant from hearing him rebuke his Servant. "What are you doing?"

Lancer folded his arms and looked down at him. "You said you wanted check to see if this was an enemy base and to survey the city from here. She has just confirmed no master has set up shop here, so all that is left for us to do is to get our look and be on our way."

"Hoh?" The enemy Servant steepled her fingers and peered at Lancer over them. "You're willing to back down without a fight, Lancer? Is it not the goal of a Heroic Spirit summoned by the Grail to defeat the other six Servants as quickly as possible?"

"Not so." Lancer replied lightly. "I imagine there are at least some Heroic Spirits who would prefer to thoroughly enjoy the battles over a long period of time, or ones who have some goal that defeating the others is not needed to achieve."

"And are you one of those Servants?"

Lancer smiled. "Maybe."

The enemy Servant returned the smile, though hers was tinged with regret. "Unfortunately, I am not." A hail of bullets whipped toward them.

They weren't really bullets, of course. The mystery that is a Heroic Spirit grows stronger with age. To be considered among the ranks of one that would be summoned to compete for a treasure as grand as the Holy Grail is simply beyond those existences that are only a scant few hundred years old. Not to mention that the quality of humans has declined as the ages pass, with fewer and fewer achieving the fame and power required to become a true Heroic Spirit.

But what else would you call them? Small stones launched at ballistic speeds designed to kill their targets, whether they were shaped metal shells fired through chemical power or pebbles from the ground thrown by hand. Though it should be impossible, the enemy Servant turned pieces of the derelict roof into lethal weapons. Equally impossible is the ease with which Lancer dodged them all without so much as moving from his position. He lived up to the inhuman agility of the Lancer class.

As suddenly as it began, the barrage ceased. The enemy Servant raised an eyebrow at Lancer. "What are you doing? With your speed, you should be able to press the attack on me easily. Yet you do not advance a step. Do you intend to simply abide my attacks, Lancer?"

"When I am attacked, I respond in kind. But Archer, I have a hard time accepting some pebbles as an attack." That is only reasonable. To Lancer, a hero who has waded through war and slain the dragon, such a haphazard method of assault could not possibly be considered an attack. Even from the Archer, who alone could make such a method of assault sufficient to mow down ordinary soldiers.

Lancer's answer amused Archer. She rose smiling. "Very well. Then let us begin our true battle in earnest." With a surge of mana, her grab was replaced with garments made for battle and her bow. Lancer responded in kind, donning the patchwork pieces of armor he wore. Bracers, greaves, a pauldron on one shoulder, a scarf that covered the lower half of his face. But what was most impressive was the spear. Eight feet long with a crossbar to prevent a strike from sliding down the blade, it was unadorned like the armor. Even so, it was very obviously a deadly weapon, the kind wielded by a master warrior.

Archer's bow was the same sort of weapon. It looked like a well-crafted weapon, but that was all. So then, it wasn't her Noble Phantasm. Or at least not in its current state. Marcellus frowned. As the master, his role on the battlefield is to serve as intelligence, the most crucial of that being identifying the enemy's true name. Since the Noble Phantasm is the manifestation of the hero's fame, it is the key to uncovering their identity. So, if it is not the bow, then perhaps a special arrow? Or is her Noble Phantasm some ability or technique?

Marcellus' musings were interrupted when, in a single fluid motion, Archer drew an arrow and fired. Though his reinforced eyes had been able to track the paths of the bulletlike stones, this arrow was another matter. It vanished from his sight, becoming no more than a silver blur. And yet, Lancer's spear snapped up unerringly and deflected the lethal shot.

The exchange confirmed the unpleasant truth to Marcellus. He cannot hope to defeat a Servant, or even impede them in any significant way. For one who has lived preparing for this battle, this is a fact he had been well aware of. Even so, in the depths of his heart the hope that it was not so, that he could achieve victory even should Lancer fall had lingered. No longer.

The single arrow was enough to spell certain death for Marcellus and Archer drew and fired a dozen more in mere seconds. Not only that, she had darted left and right as she did so, altering the incoming trajectories of the arrows to make them harder to defend against. Nevertheless, Lancer guarded himself and Marcellus from them all and was advancing towards Archer when the woman lowered her bow, an arrow still nocked.

"I see." She said, appraising Lancer with new insight. "Your movements are sharper and faster when deflecting the shots aimed at your master. You have a Noble Phantasm or some sort of skill that heightens your abilities when acting in defense of another, correct?"

Damn. She figured that out? And after such a short exchange too… Marcellus revised his evaluation of Archer's abilities. If she was able to identify Lancer's Guardian KnightAbility from only the differences in how he deflected some arrows, then she was a highly experienced warrior, even among the ranks of Heroic Spirits. Her true identity must then be a warrior with many years spent on the battlefield to hone her perception.

Lancer straightened up from his combat stance. "It's true, Archer. If you wish to prevent my ability from taking effect, then simply don't aim for my master." He sounded a little angry, anger that was not directed at Archer but rather Marcellus.

Lancer was a contradictory being. He possessed a blessing that enhanced his power when protecting someone else, so the optimal way for him to fight would be to dangle a tempting target in front of the enemy, like his master, and then defend it. But were he the sort of man who would be willing to put others in danger for his own gain, he would never have been worthy of the blessing in the first place. He had strongly opposed the idea of Marcellus accompanying him onto the battlefield. Marcellus only overcame his obstinance by insisting he had intended to go even before knowing about that skill, and that he had dedicated too much of his life to preparing for the Grail War to observe from the sidelines.

"Hmm, that's an option." There was something in Archer's eyes Marcellus distrusted. "Or, I could simply overcome the increase in your parameters." She sprang away to the very edge of the rooftop, slipping the arrow back into her quiver. She began to chant words in a language Marcellus couldn't begin to understand, but recognized all the same.

"Lancer! That's the language of the gods! She's trying to cast extremely powerful magic." Lancer didn't react to Marcellus' warning in any acceptable manner, such as leaping forward to skewer Archer or grabbing him to beat a hasty retreat. Instead, he lowered his spear and watched as a glimmering arrow formed out of the air in Archer's hand. "Lancer!" Marcellus cried again, danger too imminent for him to worry about keeping fear out of his voice.

"Worry not, Mark." Lancer said. He looked back and gave him a reassuring smile. "The Lord protects." Archer drew back the arrow, now almost leaking the mana packed so densely inside it.

"Brahmastra: O Brahma, Destroy my Foe."

She fired the arrow made of mana and devastation. Lancer raised a hand. The light blinded Marcellus.


Hina sat on a tombstone, deep in thought. Most of what the priest had told her was contrary to her expectations, but sounded true and made sense. She thought the blue bloods would cling to their much vaunted honor and respect for traditions, but it made sense for them to disregard them to claim an omnipotent wish-granter. Not surprising really, better people than those uptight nobles would do worse than disregard some unwritten rules for their heart's desires.

She had talked with Father Kotomine for nearly a few hours about the rules of the Holy Grail War, and the gist of it all was there are no rules. The Church suggested some guidelines the master were supposed to follow, but Father Kotomine had been pretty upfront with how he didn't actually expect anyone to follow most of them. The only restrictions he made clear would be enforced were keeping magic a secret and Fuyuki Church being a sanctuary for defeated masters. The former all mages were in favor of anyway, and the latter was only a 'rule' in that any mage who attacked the territory of the Church would be hunted like an animal by the Inquisitors.

Father Kotomine had answered all her questions and supplied extra information and advice freely. He had also banished her from the church's grounds until the end of the war or unless she surrendered her rights as a master and dismissed Rider. She had wandered a little ways off and settled in the nearby western graveyard to chew over what she had learned.

She had to reevaluate her plans based on this new information. There were suddenly a number of new options for her, as well as new weaknesses she needed to address. She had expected her home base to be safe from attack, but Father Kotomine had thoroughly established that was not so. On the other hand, she hadn't put much thought into attacking the other masters' bases. At least three of them had permanent residences around the city, if she could figure out where those were…

Rider, aside from when he had chided her for mistreating a grave, had stayed silent since they left the church. She didn't think it was from anything the priest had said, he had been like that since before when he went to go pray. He was probably already aware of the cutthroat nature of the Grail War anyway. Hina reflected on how he and her dad had said she didn't know what she was getting into.

Night had already fallen and Hina was getting a little cold. "Let's go." She said to the invisible Rider and hopped off the tombstone. She made her way through the gloomy graveyard, her mind still awhirl with ideas and plans for the war.

"Well, I hadn't expected finding one to be this easy." A female voice said behind her. Hina whirled around to see a woman in a suit stepping out from behind one of the taller grave markers. She had short blond hair with a predator's gaze and Hina could sense the magic within her.

Wait a minute. A foreigner mage, here? Now? The woman smirked at Hina's expression and raised a hand adorned with two red sigils. Hina's fists clenched and she readied a quick spell. Looks like she had been found by an enemy master all right. Her magic circuits surged and power flooded into her limbs as her reinforcement spell took effect. The enemy mage raised a hand that appeared to be grasping something but was clearly empty. They stared off for what felt like an hour, but was likely only a few seconds.

Hina shot forward with her boosted muscles, aiming a punch at the enemy's stomach. Before she even got close, something smashed into her and threw her backwards. She rolled and tried to right herself before being battered again. The enemy master laughed. "Wow, this is pitiful. I think taking you out this early would almost be a mercy."

She advanced and Hina scrabbled away on her back, desperate to get some distance to think of something. Okay, she's got powerful ranged attacks but might just be weak in close quarters. But I can't get past those ranged spells to start clobbering her, so what do I do? Unfortunately, nothing came to mind.

And she was out of time. A ball of scything wind had formed in her enemy's hand. With a final smirk, she lobbed it at Hina. Hina knew she couldn't dodge it on the ground like she was or defend against magic of that caliber, but she would at least face her death head on with open eyes.

A sword neatly cleaved the winds in half.

The rest of Rider materialized in between the two of them. He slowly raised his sword to point at the woman's heart. She spent a second looking stunned before crying out. "Saber!"

Rider lunged for her only for his blade to be halted by another one, held in an armored fist. Rider and the newcomer blurred, the sounds of clashing steel ringing out. After several exchanged blows Rider leapt backwards to stand by Hina, finally allowing her to get a good look at the new Servant.

He had blond hair like his master, standing tall and regally. His armor was beautifully ornamented full plate, with a fleur de lis engraved onto the metal of his breastplate. The sword in his hand had a golden hilt with a jewel set in the end. He looked every inch what a knight was supposed to be. Hina couldn't help but compare him to the scruffy looking Rider standing in front of her.

"You're Saber then." Rider said lightly. "Or at least, I hope you are. Being outmatched in swordplay by Archer or Caster would just be embarrassing."

"And you fight with a sword, reason, and courage, so you must be Rider." The blond Servant replied. Unlike Rider, whose sword was held limply at his side, Saber was keeping his weapon up and ready to attack or guard. Hina couldn't help but be impressed with his dignity and decorum, so unlike her Servant.

"True." Rider answered. He gestured with his sword. "So, how do you want to do this, Saber? Shall we rumble right here and now?"

"Of course." Saber said flatly. "This place is free of outside eyes and interferences, so there is no reason to relocate."

Rider shrugged. "Eh, fighting in a graveyard is a bit distasteful but alright. If you insist." He raised his sword into a fighting stance, the blade's hilt near his face. "I'm not fool enough to think I can beat a Heroic Spirit of the sword at bladework, so I'll need a bit of an edge here. Tizona."

Rider's sword pulsed with light for a moment then faded back to normal. She hadn't seen many (or any) other Noble Phantasms, but Hina was willing to bet they were more impressive than that. Across the way, Saber's eyes narrowed and he gripped his sword with both hands. The two Servants stared each other down.

With a resounding clang, their swords collided. Hina blinked. She hadn't even seen either of them move. As blades danced and clashed, she focused more of her power into reinforcing her eyes to heighten her vision. She slowly became able to track the lightning fast strikes and parries.

Saber fought with elegant artistry, his every motion perfectly arranged to not waste any effort or time. He flowed from attacking to parrying like water, always keeping ahead of Rider's sword. Rider for his part fought with more savagery and force. His attacks were simple and straightforward, easy to read even by a complete novice swordsman like Hina. Everything he did was simply deflected and swept aside by Saber's skillful swordplay.

And yet, Rider was the one advancing and Saber was the one being driven back. Though Saber's obvious skill should have been enough to take the initiative, he kept making almost imperceptible pauses in his movements. Rider, by pressing his advantage in those moments, was taking control of the flow of the battle. Saber seemed aware of this and the next time their blades locked he mustered up his strength and threw Rider back. Rider regained his footing but didn't immediately resume the fray.

"Saber," The enemy master spoke into the silence. Her earlier arrogance was completely gone, her voice almost trembling. "Rider is too fearsome, we should withdraw for now."

"No." Saber said faintly, not paying her much mind. He looked to be deep in thought. His eyes drifted over Tizona and he straightened up. "I see. Calm yourself, Sam. The enemy is not fearsome, but fear inducing. Am I right, Rider? Your sword not only boosts your parameters, it creates fear in your opponents."

"Damn." Rider said ruefully. "You figured that out pretty quick."

Saber grinned wolfishly. Unraveling the mystery of Rider's power had returned his confidence. "That's not all I know. There's only one hero with the sword Tizona, El Cid Compeador."

Damn. So using his Noble Phantasm had revealed his identity. Well, El Cid's legend didn't have any glaring weaknesses to exploit and Rider said he needed the boost, but even so. Having the enemy learn his true name so easily couldn't be anything but bad.

"Hmph. Well, it can't be helped that I'm too famous to stay a secret." Rider took having his critical secret uncovered surprisingly in stride. "Hey, don't the rules of chivalry dictate you give me your name after being given mine?"

"You didn't give me your name; I found it out all on my own." Saber retorted, sounding almost a little petulant.

"Well, then I'll just have to guess." Rider rubbed his chin with a hand. "You bear the emblem of a French knight, one first established by Charlemagne." Saber twitched at the name and Rider noticed. "Oh? Did I get it already?"

"No." Saber's voice was low and tightly controlled. "I am not his majesty, Charlemagne."

"Then you are one of his knights." Rider made the obvious connection. "Perhaps one of his paladins, considering you needed at least some renown to become a Heroic Spirit."

Saber shook his head angrily. "Enough riddles, Rider. Let us finish our duel." He raised his sword into a stance. "If you are using a Noble Phantasm, then I shall match that." His sword began to faintly glimmer.

"Actually, I would prefer to have a word with the two of you." A voice echoed from out of thin air. A Servant materialized floating air above them.

Whoa. He was hot. He looked like a model, or even three or four models crammed together into a perfect looking guy. Normally, Hina thought beards like his looked stupid, but this guy could really pull it off. The same was true of his old fashioned, floor length wizard robes. On anyone else they would look quaint and ridiculous, but he only looked mysterious and alluring. Suddenly Hina realized her mouth was open and shut it as the new Servant floated down to stand off the path, forming a triangle out of the three Servants.

"What do you want, Caster?" Saber asked irately.

"Saber!" Sam admonished him. "He's been nothing but polite. You shouldn't be rude." Saber looked back at her. Hina couldn't see the expression on his face, but his body language looked incredulous.

Caster spoke, his voice deep and rich. Hina found herself wishing she could record it to listen to it later. "My desire is quite simple. I wish to acquire allies for the battles to come. You both are skillful, upright knights and would make dependable comrades. Even if we are unable to reach a compromise regarding claiming the Grail, we can still eliminate the other contenders together before battling each other."

"Hmm. Not surprising for the Caster to seek out help. Have to shore up your weakness in battle somehow, right?" Rider said. Hina glared at his back. He was honestly going to antagonize a possible ally like that? What was he thinking? Caster himself didn't seem to put out by Rider's insult. "Pray you do not learn exactly how strong I am, Rider."

Rider laughed heartily. "Well said. Even so, I must decline. I have no intention of allying with someone like you."

"Rider!" Hina stomped up to him. "We could use allies! What do you mean, someone like him?"

"I meant someone who would actually put magical compulsions on the masters of his would-be allies." Rider said matter of factly. He glanced over at Caster. "You could knock that off at any time, by the way."

Wait, magically compulsions? Hina just realized, she was attracted to Caster despite most of his appearance being a turn off. Was he really…?

"Ah." Even when she aware of the spell, Hina didn't seem able to resist it much. Caster still looked pretty damn good. "My apologies. It is simply an effect I have on women. There's nothing I can do about it."

Saber glared at him. "Wait. Are you seducing our masters, you bastard?" His grip tightened on his sword. Behind him, Sam shook her head as if trying to clear it.

"Seems that way." Rider cocked his head. "You are doing a remarkably poor job of getting us to want to fight alongside you, Caster."

"Perhaps if we withdrew away from your masters we could discuss the matter without my power accidently influencing their thoughts?" Caster offered. Saber shook his head. "If you think I'd leave Sam alone with two nearby Servants, you-"

As if on cue, all threes Servants and Sam turned towards the city. Hina looked that way as well, but saw nothing. There was a faint trace of mana, but that was all.

"It would seem" Rider began. "we are not the only Servants clashing tonight." Hina realized her mistake. It wasn't that the mana was weak, it was coming from far away. That she could sense it at all spoke volumes about how much there was.

"Indeed." Saber said. He frowned at something. "Odd, their mana feels…off somehow."

Caster narrowed his eyes. "Yes. That is not a simple clash of power, there are 'concepts' involved. If I had to guess, I would say it was a concept of destruction being matched by one of defense."

"Impressive." Rider said. He looked back to Caster. "I can see why you wanted meat shields, if the other Servants are capable of that."

Caster sighed. "Are you quite sure you don't want to be allies? It would increase all our chances of winning."

"No way! You creep!" Hina shouted at the bastard. Rider grinned at her words. "Sorry Caster, but you heard my master. No partnership for us."

"I see. And you, Saber?"

Saber spoke before his master could. "Not a chance. I have no interest in having any more mages around me than is absolutely necessary."

"Very well." Caster rose off the ground in a gust of air. "My offer will stand for some time, if you should change your mind. Farewell, brave knights." He vanished into spirit form. Hina felt something shift in her brain, her mind clearing away an obstruction to her thoughts she hadn't even noticed.

"Right." Saber leveled his sword at Rider again who sighed. "Actually Saber, would you mind taking a rain check for today? Caster's interference killed the mood and I need to have words with my master anyway."

Saber opened his mouth to protest then reconsidered and thought for several moments. Finally, he nodded. "It is as you say, cutting you down right now would be unsatisfying. However, the next time we meet it will be to the death. Agreed, El Cid?"

"Ha. Agreed, paladin of Charlemagne."

Saber turned to leave. His master protested. "Hold on Saber, we can't just let the enemy walk away like-"

"Silence, Sam." Saber interrupted. "I have made my decision. I am leaving, though you are welcome to stay if you'd like." There was a pregnant pause where Hina was convinced Sam was going to use a Command Seal to force Saber to continue fighting, but she let it go and followed after him.

Hina sagged with relief as the adrenaline flowed out of her. So that was a battle in the Holy Grail War. They had done pretty well, she thought. They hadn't won but hadn't lost either, so it was okay for a first go. Or so she thought, before Rider looked her dead in the eyes with a stern expression. "We need to talk."


Marcellus blinked. He was, surprisingly, not dead. The power of Archer's Noble Phantasm was enough to have blown the entire building away, yet it hadn't so much as scuffed his shoes. Marcellus stared in awe at the translucent, eight foot tall cross just beyond Lancer's hand. He had said he had a defensive Noble Phantasm, but Marcellus had never expected it to be that powerful. The cross faded away and Lancer's hand dropped to his side.

"You blocked it." Archer said to Lancer, sounding half impressed, half put out. "The Brahmastra is a divinely ordained weapon that utterly annihilates its target without fail. And yet, you don't have a scratch on you."

"You used a divinely ordained arrow, I a divinely ordained shield." Lancer replied. Marcellus could tell he was smirking behind that scarf of his. "It would seem my god's protection was greater than your god's weapon."

Archer looked contemplative. "A barrier powerful enough to block a Brahmastra, that doesn't even take that much mana to use? There's some drawback to it, or a weakness that keeps you from being outright invincible, correct?"

"True." Lancer nodded. Seemingly oblivious to Marcellus' gestures to be quiet, he elaborated. "The Lord is willing to lend me a hand in protecting others, but even with His help I can only invoke that shield once a day."

Archer appeared amused by that for some reason. "A day marked by the hour, or the rising of the sun?"

"The sun."

"Lancer! What the hell?" To openly admit his Noble Phantasm's weakness to the enemy was beyond foolish. "Have you lost your mind? Now he knows he can kill us if he uses that attack again."

Archer grinned at Marcellus' words. "Your master is right, Lancer. Disclosing your weaknesses so openly isn't a very smart move. However, since I dislike receiving charity or being indebted, I'll return the favor. My Brahmastra has the same limitation, being only available for use once a day." She slung the bow over her back. "I've had enough for the evening. It's too early in the war to break out every trick in one's arsenal. Agreed, Servant of the western god?"

"Agreed, Servant of eastern gods."

"Then, I hope you last long enough for us to fight again." With those parting words, Archer leapt of the building and vanished as she fell. Marcellus let out a long, slow breath. That could have gone better. In the Holy Grail War, any battle where you use a Noble Phantasm was a risk that an observer could figure out your identity, much less the Servant you used it on if they walked away. Still, the same was true about Archer's Noble Phantasm, so it wasn't a total loss.

"Lancer, that display of power will attract attention. If not from the other masters, than the ordinary people at the very least. Let's get out of here."


AN: This chapter turned out to be longer than I expected it to be. I kept looking for a natural breaking point to divvy up the action, but there wasn't really one so I just barreled through. Anyway, this gives us the first look at some of the Heroic Spirits' skills and weapons. I tried to generally match the Nasuverse's themes when it comes to powers and skills, but I'm not sure if I did a great job. To be honest, the reason Lancer didn't name his Noble Phantasm is because I can't think of a good name for it outside of something lame like God's Shield or somesuch.

Confession time: I was trolling around the Type Moon wiki for skill ideas and it turns out one of my "original" Heroic Spirits was actually a character in some Fate media I hadn't seen yet. So I copied some of his skills and made some up on my own, making a proper mongrel. Gilgamesh would be so proud.

I'm debating whipping up some stat sheets for the Servants, what do you guys think? I might let it wait until more of their NPs and skills are revealed first, though.