Chapter 3: Greetings and Confessions
"Though a fight every now and again does make life a little bit more interesting, don't ya think?"
"I'm sorry, it's…" Waver wiped off his tears, more than embarrassed. It couldn't be helped that, when he faced this giant man (with a truly gigantic ego!) again, he felt like a little, pathetic boy. "I know you're not the same Rider, so you cannot possibly remember…"
"You're right," his Servant replied with suspicious calmness. But when lord El-Melloi II stared at him, suddenly devoid of enthusiasm, Iskandar smiled widely. "But I'm a top class Servant for a reason, boy. When you have sworn allegiance to me, you were recorded in my Ionioi Hetairoi. How could I forget one of my devoted retainers?"
He unceremoniously reached out his hand and ruffled Waver's hair.
"So… it means that…" The mage was too shocked to protest... yet. He noticed Reines' smirk – partially affectionate, partially wicked. Promising pranks, for sure.
"Ah, yes. You may like it or not, but we are stuck with each other."
"So this is the famous King of Conquerors, huh?" Bram looked critically at their freshly summoned Rider. A sparkle of genuine admiration appeared in his eyes. "No doubt Archibald was so mad at you back then. Such a powerful card in his hands could have…"
"What's done it's done." Reines frowned at him and quickly changed the topic. "We all play in one team now." Her sharp eyes scanned the room. "So… be honest: who changed the spell and summoned a Berserker?"
Tohsaka couldn't hold a smile, when Luvia coughed nervously, trying to hide a hot blush on her cheeks.
"It WAS on purpose," she claimed overdramatically, giving her rival only more reasons to laugh from such a pathetic mistake. "Anyone would want a Berserker! It's the strongest class, after all!"
"Yeah, right." Rin smirked, looking at her freshly summoned Saber. It was a very handsome brunet with a stylish cape and two swords. "Since we're among allies, maybe you should just introduce yourselves?"
"Splendid idea, Master of Saber! Let us see which Heroic Spirits joined the great army of Iskandar!"
"Your army?" Bram frowned, alarmed by such bold claim of the King of Conquerors. "I thought we…"
"Don't." Waver stopped him, helplessly shaking his head. Arguing with Rider, when he was fixated on some crazy idea, was pointless. "Just… don't."
"Since it was my Master's idea, I shall introduce myself first." The sword-wielder wanted to bow before Tohsaka, but she stopped him with a shake of head. "Servant Saber. Diarmuid Ua Duibhne of the Knights of Fianna. Allow me to serve you as a knight."
"Oh, Diarmuid of the Love Spot?" Rider stroke his beard, thinking intensively. "Haven't we met before?"
"Well, technically you didn't." Waver shrugged nonchalantly, although he felt strangely nostalgic. What unfinished business made these two meet again? Did it mean that other heroes from the Fourth Holy Grail War may appear as well, even King Arthur herself? "But I remember you, as a Lancer, from the past war. No offence, but it seems that a Saber class suits you better."
"Of course." Tohsaka crossed her arms, proud of the result of the summoning. Saber's circuits were overflowing with magical energy – her energy. From one look at his statistics alone she could tell that her Servant relied in battle mostly on speed and technique, in which he could rival even Arturia. The only thing that bothered her now was the fact that Luvia's Servant – also a dual wielder - looked almost as impressive as hers. "You shouldn't expect any less from MY Saber."
Surprisingly, the Edelfelt mage didn't react to Rin's provocation - she was too busy admiring her Berserker. What's more, this happiness seemed mutual.
"True Name's Beowulf," the big, muscular man said simply. It wasn't so strange, considering both his class and identity. He was a man of action, and scars on his strangely dark skin were enough for a proof what kind of actions used to solve most of his problems. "Well then, let's beat some things up!"
"Ohohohoho, sure we will!" With a grin, Luvia raised her hand. Berserker looked confused for a moment, but a quick mental exchange was enough to teach him how to give a high five.
Reines didn't know what to say, so she gave them a weird smile. Only her nervously twitching eyebrow suggested that dealing with those two could be too much for her tired brain today.
"At least they're compatible…" She sighed and looked at the last Servant, a knight with long, red hair. Strange as it might seem, he didn't open his eyes even for a second since the materialization. Maybe he was secretly taking a nap? "And you are…?"
"Servant Archer," he replied in a monotone, almost sleepy voice. "Knight of the Round Table, Tristan."
"So we finally have a range fighter, good!" But then she took a closer look at his harp-like bow. "Will this be enough to counter their Archer? He's a monster."
"It can't be this bad…" Bram doubtfully raised an eyebrow, feeling slightly offended by such lack of trust in abilities of his new Servant.
"It is." Ji's distorted voice came from the communicator. Since she was silent until now, all Servants looked at the device with mixture of distrust and amazement. Iskandar seemed especially agitated – he could already tell how useful such way of communication could be on the battlefield. "I will show you the files later. And forgive me for not introducing Assassin to you, but we have a situation here…"
"Right, the fight!" Reines looked at the gathered mages, sighing heavily. "I know it's too soon after the summoning to ask you for this, but I fear we have no choice."
Tohsaka stepped forward, knowing exactly what their leader has on mind.
"We'll go," she declared proudly. "I'm the most experienced Master here."
"And my fighting potential won't be lowered on the streets," Saber added politely, standing by her side.
No one had anything against it, so they departed immediately.
"Now, for the rest… come, Ji will show you the video footage. Then all Masters should proceed to the fitting room."
"What for?" Luvia asked, not really happy about the idea of changing her elegant dress.
"Mystic Codes. You don't want to freeze to death on that island, do you?"
Inside a castle surrounded by ice, in a dim light of a small chamber, a boy and his Servant were playing chess.
"Take it off, it's cheating!"
"If you insist." Saber obediently put the eyeglasses on the table. As expected, it didn't change the outcome of their little match. It was a ridiculously quick win for the Servant. "I told you already, it's not about the glasses. You should just try harder, Master."
"It's easy to say, if you're a famous hero…" The boy pouted, a bit depressed. "Playing chess with a mortal is sure easier than killing dragons."
Saber narrowed his eyes; when he spoke again, he sounded more serious than before.
"Master, are you telling me that heroes belong to some special category of beings, different from 'ordinary humans'?"
"Yes?" It wasn't truly a question. The tone of his Master's voice worried Sigurd – he wondered what had happened to this boy that he was already this frustrated and embittered. With so much negativity in his behavior, an extremely low self-esteem looked only like a cherry on top. "Come on, you're not going to give me 'You can be whoever you want' speech, are you?"
Saber didn't answer at first, just pierced the young mage with his cold, blue eyes, for a moment long enough to become uncomfortable.
"No, you can't be whoever you want, Master. Some things are determined even before your birth. There are limits of both your body and mind you will never be able to overcome. But…" He poked the boy's forehead with a meaningfully stretched forefinger "…it's up to you - and only you – to make good use of what was given to you. Heroes are those, who decided to act. Who knew their weaknesses and learnt to deal with them. For important reasons."
The boy exhaled with a hiss, but Sigurd needed to admit that he bravely withstood both the lesson and such uncomfortable position. Saber moved away and tilted his head, carefully observing the young mage.
"I can see that something still troubles you, Master."
"It's just… I can't find any other Master in the fortress, only those two old mages." The boy shivered involuntarily at the very thought of Zouken and the old Acht. Saber couldn't really blame him for that. "The homunculi here are also… Weird. Nothing like father's work, they give me the creeps."
"And why is that? What exactly is so different about them?"
"I don't know!" The boy crossed his arms, visibly irritated. "I didn't actually stop and enjoy the view!"
"Well, that was a mistake on your part, Master. Knowledge is power. Also at war."
"Are you telling me to investigate things that scare me the most?" The boy doubtfully raised an eyebrow. Maybe his Servant wasn't so smart without his magical glasses?
"Humans fear the unknown, Master," Sigurd explained calmly. "If you learn everything you can about something, it won't be frightening for you anymore."
"And what do you know about fear, Saber? I read all of your legends, some of them say you are literally fearless. Honestly, were you ever afraid of something?"
It was a difficult question and Sigurd found himself nervously rubbing his nasal bridge, trying to adjust the glasses that weren't there anymore.
"I was," he admitted eventually, so brutally honest it almost seemed painful. "But not on any battlefield." He remembered the storm of emotions, fear included, when he saw the suffering in her eyes, when she… "Even if you accept your fate, you're still affected by fears and feelings."
The last sentence triggered something within the boy, but his Servant wasn't sure, if the lesson brought the expected results. He sighed and scanned the room for the hundredth time today.
Something felt out of place, he could tell from the moment they had arrived to the island. Interior design of the chambers seemed chaotic, ugly even. A building like this one usually belonged to aristocracy and, as a property to be proud of, pleased the eye with works of art and antiques.
But here everything seemed provisional. Disposable. Like if no one cared if the castle is eventually burnt to the ground.
Like if no one really cared if they survive.
The boy was intelligent enough to notice that as well and reach his own conclusions. But his judgment was stained by fear and low self-esteem.
"I'm not sure I can… I mean…" The mage was breathing heavily, probably trying to suppress strong emotions. "I'm just…"
Sigurd didn't let him finish.
"You are Goredolf Musik, my Master and a talented magus, still young enough to make a name for himself." He stood up and put his glasses on. "Don't think about it too much, though. It's late, you should rest."
Having nothing more to add, Saber left the boy alone, hoping he wouldn't spend the rest of the evening staring blankly at the chessboard.
Vergil would be a hypocrite, if he tried to deny how much fun he had fighting Archer of Storm. Keeping this cocky bowman constantly on the edge, literally inches from being cut to pieces, felt strangely satisfying for the elder son of Sparda. And the temptation to push his opponent further, to fight at full power, might soon be too hard to resist.
Arjuna also seemed to be just one step from losing his legendary self-control and wiping the enemy off the face of the earth, along with at least half of the city. His Gandiva was continuously spitting streams of magical energy, wider and stronger with every second…
And then Archer suddenly retreated to a safe distance, as fast as one of his own arrows. Vergil noticed also small changes in his behavior, a frown and momentary lack of focus, like if the bowman had just received a mental message. An order from his Master, maybe?
As on a signal, Berserker pushed Bradamante with such force she hit her back against the wall. Few damaged bricks fell on her head, before she managed to stand up, coughing from the dust and hurt ribs.
"Have enough already?" Vergil mockingly tilted his head, swirling his sword for a moment before sheathing it.
"Not really. I would like to finish this… exchange of pleasantries, but I'm just a humble Servant, who must obey orders." Arjuna gave his opponent a slight nod of acknowledgment, before adding: "I'm sure we'll meet again, Master of Lancer."
Both Servants disappeared, perfectly synchronized, not giving Vergil a chance to interrupt their retreat. He didn't intent to do so anyway, just stood in the rain for a while, thinking.
Bradamante waited few steps behind him, bruised and defeated. With her head lowered and long pigtails soaked with water, she looked like a drowned rat. Feeling ashamed of her battle performance after all the bragging, she didn't dare to speak or even look at her Master.
Vergil glanced at her through his shoulder; his face blank and intentions unknown. Then, without a word, he took off his blue coat and threw it to the girl.
"You're shivering," he answered the unspoken question in her startled look. "I can see you're not like other Servants. You can't dematerialize, right?"
She nodded, staring at the fabric in her hands. It was warm, warmer than it should be, actually. Another proof that the one who had summoned her to this war wasn't a human being.
"But what about you, M-master? You need it more than I do."
"Not really. I am a demon, remember?" Although it sounded almost cheerfully, his expression was dead serious. "Put it on before you'll catch cold."
She obeyed and wrapped herself in the coat, too broad for her, especially in the shoulders. It felt odd, but pleasant at the same time. Lancer needed all her willpower to stop herself from sniffing.
"Thank you, M-master," she whispered hesitantly, hoping that a hot blush on her cheeks could be taken for an effect of weather or battle fever.
"Don't get the wrong idea. Assistance of a Servant is necessary to obtain the Grail. I need you to survive long enough and be in top condition, so you won't slow me down anymore."
And he just walked away, leaving his Servant deep in thought.
Was it really how he had said – only about utility and getting the Grail? Or maybe there was kindness hidden behind his gesture, even if only in the smallest amount?
Bradamante wasn't yet sure, but she decided to accompany this strange man for now, even if only to find it out.
"It's so quiet," Arturia said, looking around. They were walking slowly through an old park. There was no one in sight to disturb them in such a calm, rainy night, so Llamrei took the opportunity to shamelessly nibble on grass. "And something smells good... Over there."
Dante inhaled a huge portion of cold air. Indeed, a distant smell of pizza and burgers pleasantly tickled his nostrils. It wasn't the best moment to realize he hadn't eaten anything since… last morning in another world?
The rumbling of Lancer's stomach embarrassed him even more than his own. If it was only about him, Dante wouldn't mind, but he had a breathtaking companion to take care of. Well, two companions, actually.
How much a battle mare eats daily, huh?
"Well, I would gladly treat you with some junk food, but…" He turned his pockets inside out, getting straight to the core of their problems. "Sorry. Not that money from my world would be of any use here anyway… Must say I didn't suspect that such snacks are appropriate for a king."
"Of course they are!" Arturia's fierce reaction visibly amused the demon hunter. "They give me strength. You won't regret such investment, Dante."
"Well, seems we have to find our 'team' quickly then."
"Do you think they will feed us?" A warmer tone ringed in her low voice – hope, maybe?
"Probably?" He shrugged. "But I guess we'll owe them."
Lancer frowned, thinking, then smiled to herself. A favor, two or ten was a price she was willing to pay for delicious food.
They stopped for a moment near a small pond, letting Llamrei drink how much she wanted to. Dante was observing how Arturia rubs the mare's sides with grass. The smell of green juice and wet hair was overwhelming, but not unpleasant.
"Need some help?" - he asked, but then winced, sensing strange vibrations in the air. "What the hell is this?"
Something was surrounding them, trapping inside the magical copula, like in an overgrown snow globe. Even the rain couldn't reach them anymore.
"A Bounded Field, most likely." Arturia put her helmet on, expecting an assault. Llamrei neighed by her side, declaring readiness to fight. "An enemy mage is challenging us and doesn't want anyone to interfere."
"So… we can go all out without risk of being caught by bystanders?" When Lancer nodded, Dante whistled with amusement. "Useful trick. I like that!"
To reward his enthusiasm, shadows gathered around them and formed over a dozen giant silhouettes. Some of them were blue, others red, but their general appearance seemed identical – huge bodies, barely covered by leather loincloths, horns, overgrown teeth like those of a wild boar and flat faces with almost no visible signs of higher intelligence.
"What are these things, Lancer?" The hunter narrowed his eyes, sensing traces of demonic aura in the air. It was faint and felt somehow fake, but – who knows? – maybe in this world mages were able to artificially create devils.
"I'm not sure," Arturia replied, although she didn't really care. For her those were enemies to be crushed, nothing more. "Probably some kind of demons from the Far East."
"I see. So… the most important question then: red or blue?"
She blinked, missing the point for a second, then smiled under her helmet. What a weird sense of humor this man possessed, to ask such ridiculous question a moment before their first battle!
"Red, please."
"Fine with me. I'm used to beating up blue devils, after all."
He instinctively reached for his guns, but Arturia's disapproving grunt held him in place.
"What? It can't be about the noise inside the barrier, so… You just want to see me using a sword, am I right?"
Lancer didn't answer, only hummed something under the helmet and mounted her demonic horse. The barbed lance pierced the stomach of the nearest red fiend. It bent in half and disappeared into a cloud of steam with a strange puffing sound. No blood or magical energy remained where it stood, just a small piece of paper with a creepy eye painted in the centre.
Dante had no intention to be left behind. One of the blue demons roared and attacked, but its clawed hand grabbed only air. The hunter bounced off the stretched arm of his opponent and jumped. No longer than a second later he landed behind the enemy's back, slicing the giant in half with Rebellion.
"Too easy," he said, effortlessly wreaking havoc among summoned creatures.
The fight ended for the demons before it truly started. Dante reached for one of the weird one-eyed papers, which covered the ground like snow under his feet, but did not manage to catch it in the end.
A blast of wind caught all the papers – they raised intp the air, formed a silhouette of a big, long-necked bird, and drifted away through a suddenly dispelled barrier.
"Did you enjoy the show, mage?!" – looking up and spreading his arms, Dante shouted to whoever was observing their fight. He didn't like to be fooled by cheap tricks.
An echo of hysterical laughter in the distance was the only answer he got. Or maybe it was just an illusion or whistling of the leaves?
Arturia smirked secretly behind Dante's back. She had been summoned by such fascinating and powerful Master in this War! But, unlike him, she had nothing against being watched. Let their enemies know what they will have to deal with… and what pitiful end awaits them, if they stand in their way.
"This mage is annoying," Lancer broke the silence, checking the surroundings, just in case. Sensing no sign of enemies in range, she relaxed at last. "Let's hope we won't be bothered by such attacks few times a day."
"Ah, yes. Better not." The demon hunter turned around and winked cheerfully to his Servant. "Though a fight every now and again does make life a little bit more interesting, don't ya think?"
"So he's returned," Martha muttered to herself, watching how a familiar figure materialized on the usual spot almost at the roof of their fortress.
He was alone, but unscratched. So either they parted ways in peace, in which Rider did not believe, or the unknown Lancer turned out to be more powerful than they expected.
The latter seemed interesting and disturbing at the same time. Martha casted Arjuna one last glance before deciding to join him up there and make him confess.
Such a magnificent figure, tensed like a bowstring a moment before a shot…
Rider narrowed her eyes. Archer was a riddle she truly wanted to unravel, but had no idea where to start.
"How was your mission?" - she tried, hoping it sounded polite and neutral enough to not raise suspicions.
"It was… interesting." He was carefully choosing every word and Martha knew that getting the information out of his ever alert mind won't be an easy task. She was actually happy that he decided to answer her seemingly innocent question in the first place. "Both Master and his Servant turned out to be skilled warriors."
"And you've returned without a scratch. Your Master must be proud of you."
"Well, she's…" Archer almost bit his tongue, realizing that he'd said too much, but quickly regained his usual composure. Rider was so sincere that even Arjuna lowered his guard in her company. "My Master is not only an outstanding mage, but also a wonderful person. She even took me on a trip to my homeland, to power me up and understand me better."
That explains a lot, Martha thought. Arjuna fought like a wild beast, and Saber told Rider that Archer hadn't showed them yet his full potential.
A tiny, reckless part of Martha wanted to see Sigurd and Arjuna fighting each other. The rest hoped it will never happen and suspected that the entire island would suffer the consequences of their clash.
"I see you're very fond of your Master." She smiled gently, waving her feet in the air, like a young village girl. That side of her woke up often, when she felt relaxed enough. "You're lucky then. I wish I could meet my Master…"
"And I wish I didn't," he said without blinking an eye, so emotionless it scared Rider a bit. "Being my Master in this war is a curse. Looks like neither of us can have what we truly wanted. That's why we must fight for it."
"Y-yes. You're right." Martha had nothing more to say, only stared at the icy wasteland, deep in thought. She was sure that Archer just told her everything she wanted to know, but in a twisted, encrypted way.
The way Arjuna emphasized the word 'curse' seemed suspicious to Rider. Since she was recognized as a saint, Martha possessed abilities to lift curses and heal even spiritual damage, but she didn't detect anything of a kind around him. She could only wonder what was the true meaning of this sudden confession.
But the one thing bothered Martha more than anything – being the only Servant in their faction, who had never met her own Master, was like her personal failure.
If she only knew where to start searching…
After more than half a day of wading through the snow, Shirou and Scáthach finally reached the infamous Einzbern Castle.
The place itself was extremely hard to find – if not their experience in exploring wild, inaccessible places, they would have turned around after just few hours of fruitless searching the right path in the mountains. Runes turned out to be extremely helpful, and Shirou could finally get some practice in using them. This kind of magic, simple and practical, seemed very appealing to Emiya, and certainly within his reach. He almost had fun following the marked stone through the snowy wilderness.
Real problems started when they reached the first Bounded Field around the Einzbern's territory. Although Scáthach claimed it had been already damaged by someone, it still defended itself pretty hard against their intrusion.
Shirou was stepping carefully around the barrier, still remembering a shockwave that had thrown reckless Tohsaka few meters back in the Einzbern forest in Fuyuki years ago. It was only a prank from Illya's side, which made Emiya wonder if the girl was truly aware of her own powers.
He exhaled slowly, haunted by painful memories. He couldn't save Illyasviel back then and still regretted they had no chance to become allies. But now he needed to save Sakura, not apologize for past decisions, which weren't truly his to make…
"It's done," the Queen of Shadows announced the fall of the remaining barriers with a predatory smirk. She might pretend how much she wanted, but Shirou knew anyway that she liked to show off her skills from time to time, like any other hero he met so far. "Let's keep going."
Emiya nodded and followed her into the unnaturally silent forest, instinctively projecting Kanshou and Bakuya. Neither of them knew what kind of guards waited on the other side.
They expected at least an army of homunculi, waiting in ambush, but found only frozen corpses. First were scattered remnants of wolves in a valley halfway to the castle. The entire pack ended up cut to pieces by a thin, extremely sharp blade. Such wounds still would be hard to inflict, even with the finest of weapons, if its wielder lacked the strength to cut flesh and bones like butter.
"Well, that's… disturbing," Shirou commented, checking the traces of blood and footprints, barely visible under fresh layers of snow, just like his mentor had taught him. "It seems we're not the only ones to have some business with the Einzberns. This is probably the same person, who broke through the Bounded Field."
Scáthach gave him a small nod in response.
"Keep your guard up, Shirou," she warned, but still seemed relaxed and kept her spears sheathed on her back. "But not too much. We are the hunters, they are the prey."
Emiya couldn't hide a small smile. Sometimes he truly admired her boldness – and knew already that there were real fighting skills behind all her innocent bragging.
"Roger that."
They resumed the journey through snow, trying to walk faster but careful enough to not let anyone surprise them. Nothing disturbed their silent march, only homunculi corpses observed them with unseeing eyes, scattered around in small groups, like abandoned dolls.
The trail of blood led them better than any map or tracing magic. Finally, the Einzbern's fortress emerged from behind a curtain of endless snowstorm. The magnificent structure of the building wasn't so perfect anymore. Actually, the castle looked like it could collapse at any moment. And something, probably a huge explosion, changed the entrance into a pile of rubble.
Inside, in the centre of this mess, stood a lone swordswoman in black-and-red clothes. She wore ridiculously high buskins and a dress, painted in zigzags at the edges, which reminded Shirou of Shinsengumi commanders from history lessons.
She noticed their presence and turned around immediately. Impressive long hair waved behind her like a white cape. Almost colorless eyes of the stranger and her tanned skin seemed somehow familiar to Emiya. Sensing no evil intention from her, he wanted to say something, introduce himself or ask a question…
But Scáthach was faster. She flashed past Shirou like a purple shadow, standing between her student and their potential enemy. Feeling a drastic raise of tension in the air, the white-haired swordswoman responded in kind.
Just from looking at them Emiya could say that it was an instinctive reaction from both sides. Scáthach welcomed the danger on her slightly bent knees, like a crouching tigress. The other warrior seemed serious as well – her ridiculously long katana was raised at the eye level, which meant an intent to kill.
Shirou stepped back; he had seen enough angry women in his life to not recklessly stand between these two.
His gaze involuntarily wandered towards the weird weapon. It was a bad move – his eyes started to hurt, when he tried to read the sword's abilities. It was a demonic katana, no doubt about it, probably beyond Emiya's tracing abilities. The image flickered and jolts of electricity ran through Shirou's brain, making him lose focus.
He had no more time to waste on staring mindlessly at the blade anyway, because the fight had already started.
For a brief moment Emiya felt like he'd been sent back in time, to watch again a battle between Servants. Lancer and Assassin, to be precise. Scáthach was even more fierce and deadly than her famous student, and the other woman used her sword with the same cold precision as the samurai, who was guarding the gate to Ryuudou Temple. Their moves were too fast for a mere mortal to observe without a headache – even Emiya needed to strengthen his eyes for a moment to learn as much as possible from such skillful warriors.
He was experienced enough to tell that they were only teasing each other, testing abilities of an opponent. Although the commotion looked like a deadly clash, it was nothing more than a scuffle of two predators forced to share a hunting area. They finished this display of strength pretty quick, trying to intimidate each other with threatening attitude and angry glares.
"Hah! I don't even need to finish you off!" Scáthach smiled wildly. Mockingly. "You're vanishing anyway."
Indeed, now Shirou noticed that too – barely visible streams of magical energy were leaving the swordswoman's body, slowly but steadily. Yet she was far from giving up.
"Oh? I still can take you with me, witch." She narrowed her eyes, tightening the grip on her deadly weapon.
"Don't think so. I cannot really die."
"We'll see."
Now it's getting serious, Shirou realized and tensed, not knowing what to do. He had a theory that needed to be checked. But he won't get his answers, if they cut each other to pieces!
"Wait! Waaaaait!" When their attention finally focused on him, Shirou stepped forward and repeated, calmer than before: "Wait, please. I know this is a weird question, but… aren't you a Counter Guardian?"
Thanks to W8W, here's the list of already known Masters and Servants. Will be updated with every future reveal or change.
Ice Faction
Master of Saber: Rin Tohsaka, Servant: Diarmuid Ua Duibhne
Master of Lancer: Dante, Servant: Arturia Pendragon (Alter)
Master of Archer: Bram Nuada-Re Sophia-Ri, Servant: Tristan
Master of Caster: UNKNOWN, Servant: UNKNOWN
Master of Rider: Lord El-Melloi II, Servant: Iskandar
Master of Berserker: Luviagelita Edelfelt, Servant: Beowulf
Master of Assassin: 'Ji', Servant: Osakabehime
Storm Faction
Master of Saber: Goredolf Musik, Servant: Sigurd
Master of Lancer: Vergil, Servant: Bradamante
Master of Archer: UNKNOWN, Servant: Arjuna
Master of Caster: UNKNOWN, Servant: Nitocris
Master of Rider: UNKNOWN, Servant: Saint Martha
Master of Berserker: Jubstacheit von Einzbern, Servant: Siegfried
Master of Assassin: Zouken Matou, Servant: Tamamo-no-Mae
Many thanks to W8W for recommending this story to TV Tropes (I literally jumped on my seat when I found out about it)! It made my day.
Don't You think that whoever sent the blue and red oni (devils) after Dante had a twisted sense of humor? ;)
In case You wondered (or if You like giving stories their own music themes), this one is inspired by the song "Eye of the Storm" by Watt White. Its lyrics may refer to many characters and their goals, but to one in particular. I'm sure You'll figure it out soon, if You haven't already (no spoilers, please!).
Thanks for reading (hope You're not disappointed) and don't hesitate to comment! Although I already know how this story will end, I'm always open to new ideas.