Why was it that elementary schools always had giant ass fields? Like, I get it: kids need space to play. Cool, cool… but, ya know, high school kids still liked playing soccer and shit too! Taking in the massive field, set up with multiple soccer fields and nets, mind you, I couldn't help but feel a bit nostalgic. Reminded me of the good old days of being an elementary school kid. Growing up sucks man; life only ever gets worse with age.

I slowed down to a jog as I made my way over to my allies. Sortiara and Lancer both appeared to be raring to go. Saber and Johnathan still had their guard up. Especially Saber; his head acted as if it was on a god damn swivel. It seemed like none of the four wanted to really commit to the first move yet though; the group was standing on the tarmac, about a meter or so from where the tarmac switched to the grassy field. It was only once I had reached the group that I could really begin to make out the dark figure standing in the middle of the closest soccer field, facing us.

A hooded, black cloak engulfed the figure, flapping slightly in the night breeze. Couldn't see any part of him; from head to toe, a wall of black fabric. All except where his face was, not that it mattered. In stark contrast to the black cloak, the figure wore a white skull mask. Yeah… this definitely looked the part for an assassin, that's for sure… From what I saw, I started running down the potential options I thought Assassin could be. Unfortunately, with so little to go on, I could reach anything near a definitive conclusion. His clothing alone didn't seem particularly historic, but they didn't seem… legendary, or mythic, either…

Perhaps a weapon or technique would give it away, like how the glowing brand gave Daedalus away basically immediately? But for an assassin, the figure sure didn't seem to be acting like one. Why stand in the open, waiting for the servants of dedicated fighting classes to show up, even if it's for a trap? Was Assassin just that confident, or what?

Trap, trap, trap… Taking a look at the surroundings… Fairly dark area, yes, but not so dark that one couldn't see. Very open area too; the school building behind us could be ran around, and while there were portables on the far end of the tarmac, they wouldn't really be much of an obstacle to servants or magi, I'd imagine.

"Alright Assassin" Sortiara shouted out to the cloaked figure. "Don't know what you or your master was thinking, but this is the end of the line for you!"

As for the school building itself… Two floors, but a low roof, all things considered. From over the top of it, one could easily see the tall towers of the office buildings in the other part of town. Plenty of windows, but they were all closed. Undoubtedly, it would be a simple task to break them, but that wouldn't be very sneaky a method. Nothing about this was adding up for an assassin…

Assassin, for their part, completely ignored Sortiara. Just continued to stand there, silently; watching, waiting.

"I'm not picking up a bounded field or anything" Johnathan spoke, facing Sortiara.

"Neither am I" Sortiara confirmed. "Doesn't seem like much of a trap."

"Your orders then, master" Lancer asked Sortiara.

"…Take him down" Sortiara nodded in confirmation.

It was so quick I could barely process it. I knew Lancer was quick, considering the run to the school and all he just did in that get up. But this? This was something else entirely. Even faster than Caster had been when I first met him after his manifestation, despite the added weight of the armor Lancer had over him. It defied reason… Must have defied science…

This is what I'm talking about! This is beau- huh?!

Assassin just stood there as Lancer closed the gap in what felt like the blink of an eye, and… dissipated into nothing. Not into shadows, or a magical field or barrier, at least as far as I could tell. Assassin's body just… broke apart. Into the tiniest of blue pieces, scattering to the wind. Before Lancer's thrust could connect.

"Wha- Was that Presence Concealment" Johnathan shouted out to Lancer.

Sortiara, for her part, just stood in place, absolutely silent. It didn't seem like she quite believed what she saw either.

"No, it can't be" Saber raised his swords in preparation. "Assassin can't use Presence Concealment once engaged in combat."

"…Even if it was, Lancer's attack should have connected" Sortiara mumbled, starting to recover from the surprise. "Presence Concealment doesn't render one immune to taking hits."

"Well, whatever that was" Lancer called out as he returned to the group, "he's no longer here. The faint trace of magic I felt from his presence is gone. A pity; could have been good practice…"

Presence Concealment? The hell was that? Need to ask later… Welp, that sucked. But still, even if that wasn't Assassin, that was still something magical. Meaning it had to be here on some kind of order from a master. So why?

Going off the terrain of the location, it didn't make sense for an assassin to lay a trap here. We had Saber and Lancer. Caster was somewhere. Berserker… could they even lay carefully planned traps? Probably not… Then, that left either Archer, or-

…That was an assassin, just not Assassin. What do I think of when I think of the Rider class, Johnathan? I think of a general on horseback. Kings and emperors were also military generals. Many also employed spies, and even… assassins… Factor in terrain, and-

"…It's Rider…" I mumbled, smile forming on my face.

"Huh, what you say" Johnathan asked.

"It's Rider" I repeated, loud enough for the group to hear. "This trap isn't Assassin's, it's Rider's."

"But that doesn't make sense" Sortiara protested. "Only Assassin has Presence Concealment. If Rider was here, then we should have sensed-"

"Sorry to interrupt, master" Lancer cut Sortiara off, raising both spear and shield into a defensive stance. "But get behind me, now. Please."

"Huh? What are-"

"It's faint, but it's growing rapidly" this time it was Saber's turn to cut her off. "There's a servant approaching."

Following both their glances up to the roof of the school, I still couldn't see anything. No one, or thing, was standing there. Then, suddenly, from the rooftop-

"My apologies for keeping you all waiting" a figure materialized from thin air on the roof. "It would seem I underestimated the amount of time it would take to traverse a city of this size."

I had spent enough time around Caster earlier today to know he had just materialized from spirit form. He was an older man, both by the sound of his voice, and what I could make out of his face. Well kept beard of greyish-black hair, but that was all I could really make out, admittedly. Was just too dark to make out more, and the gold helmet, combined with the silver chain veil on the sides and, presumably, the back, of it he wore didn't help me see more of his head either.

Speaking of gold armor though, the man had it packing in spades. Scale mail, dazzling even in the minimal light of the night. Clasped to it by two… seals, or, well… clasps… was a beautiful green cloak. His bottom half had nowhere near the same quality in protection though. The grey pants he wore looked baggy, and entirely of cloth; unlike the hybrid cloth and metal plates that Saber had. Boots looked fancy though; definitely those of a nobleman or lord.

"But to strike at a man who offered no resistance" the mysterious servant continued. "That doesn't come across as a very chivalrous act, now does it, knight?"

"I suppose you have me there" Lancer admitted with a little shrug. "Though, I was never the greatest example of a knight. You would want one of my fellow knights for that."

"And yet knowing that, you would still offer up no apologies?"

"This is a war; you're the enemy now, even if we could have gotten along under different circumstances. It's just the way of things, sadly."

"But surely even war can keep some form of civility to it, no? Is that not why you knights have your code of honor and conduct; your code of chivalry?"

He was either a general or ruler. Probably both, going by the sound of him. Seemed decent enough a man, even if I thought his notion of civility in war to be utter bunk. War is mean and nasty. If you're going to fight, fight to win! Why are there so many people who feel like they can take something inherently inhumane, and turn it humane with arbitrary rules and shit? So stupid…

That said, the notion of civility seemed to have roused Saber into speaking.

"So you, too, understand the importance of preventing outright chaos from taking hold" Saber to a couple of steps forward, but still kept his swords at the ready.

"You must be Saber… Yes… I do sense you to be a man capable of civility. Then, allow me to properly introduce myself. Servant, Rider."

As if to prove the point, on his right a beautiful, brown horse materialized. Even the horse had gold scale armor… Damn, this guy must have been a wealthy ruler or noble in life.

Knew it! So that's Rider, huh…

"Now, as one civil man to another" Rider spoke as he mounted his horse. "I will give you the choice: stand down, or fall here."

"As if we'd stand down" Sortiara snorted dismissively. "You're outnumbered here, Rider. Against two knight classes, no less. This isn't a fight you can win."

"…I see…" Rider narrowed his gaze at Sortiara. "You can only see the surface; the superficial. A tragedy; I have no desire to kill children, regardless of who they are. Yet if you are persistent in your endeavor for the grail, then allow me to show you the error in your observation."

Within the time it took for Rider to do a sweeping motion with his hand, I realized we fucked up. Not that trying to leave earlier would have done us any good, mind you. But still… One by one, they revealed themselves. Hooded, cloaked figures with white skull masks. Some were on the roof, others on the side of the school we came from, blocking our retreat path. More surrounded us, keeping their distance in a loose circle. All in all… I wanted to say there were a good twenty of them.

I think I get it… These assassins are his familiars. A familiar that can summon familiars… fascinating. Never seen that before in a game. But for there to be so many… Who in history or legend hired so many assassins?

"So many… How… When-" Johnathan seemed to lose his capability to form words.

"From the beginning" Sortiara seemed to understand. "Presences Concealment; of high rank too."

"Sounds about right to me" Lancer nodded. "Explains why neither Saber nor I detected them."

"Also explains the disappearing act; Rider must have cut off his mana supply" Saber nodded.

"Correct, on all accounts" Rider nodded. "You see, girl, it is not I who is outnumbered here. It is you. But even so, I will offer mercy one more time. Stand down, or perish."

The four of them remained silent, looking up at Rider, seemingly in defiance. They must have been talking to their servants; forming a plan. In a way, it was a good thing Rider wasn't the smartest man to have ever existed; should just kill us without the warning, but I'll take the time here, for sure.

"Man, this shit is so cool" I shouted out, making sure I could be heard by Rider. "I figured it had to be Rider placing a trap here, considering the terrain. Gotta admit though, I didn't think a Rider servant would have access to assassin servants."

Through the darkness, I could make out Rider's eyes widening, ever so slightly, when he turned his head to face me. It was as if he had just noticed my presence in all of this just now.

"You…"

"Me... Her…" I finished the joke, though I was fairly certain no one but me present understood it. "I'm sorry if I spooked ya; tend not to be all that noticeable. Must be a skill of mine, though I've never quite worked that out."

Rider stared at me in silence for a moment.

"Hmm, so was I wrong after all. Yet I still sense no magical energy from you. Can't imagine even these American spellcasters would allow an outsider to witness this, which means-"

Wrong after all? Wha-

Before I could even register anything, I felt someone pulling me to my right, hard. At the same time, I heard multiple clinging sounds. The sounds of metal hitting metal. Holding my right arm was Saber, his other hand still holding one of his swords up. On my left stood Lancer, back to me, shield raised, facing some of the assassin familiars forming the loose encirclement. On the ground were multiple daggers, black as the night itself. The assassins stood perfectly still, as if they hadn't moved at all. Yet it could have only been them who could have thrown those daggers…

"To think you tried to lecture me on my lack of chivalry" Lancer sounded happy, but considering he was still facing the assassins I couldn't see if he was smiling or not.

"He is no child, and he is a master. Nor has he agreed to stand down, despite me having offered your party twice. I have done nothing to be uncivil here, Lancer."

"You said yourself you can sense no magical energy from him" Lancer dismissed. "That would make him unarmed, no?"

"Command spells are weapons, make no mistake. I also only sense you two here, meaning I can only assume his servant is Assassin; a servant who could be anywhere, even here. Would certainly make sense, considering that man does not appear to be a spellcaster. But I am also capable of seeing your point. …Very well then, for the sake of keeping this as civil as possible."

Leaping from the roof of the school on horseback, Rider landed with a thunderous thud. How the horse didn't break its legs I had no idea. Must have been the benefit of being a magical being.

"Your target is Lancer" Rider began giving orders to his men. "Spare the masters, unless they seek to interfere."

Rider raised his right hand. Out of thin air formed a gorgeous scimitar. Combining that with the armor, and the fact that he was closer and I could see his… skin tone? Do servants have skin? Huh? Anyways, point was I could tell he was from the Middle East in some capacity. Whether it was from history or legends I still couldn't tell, but it was a good start.

"Now come, Saber" Rider spoke with a voice that commanded both respect and attention. "Your fight is with me."

"…On my honour, know that you will fall here, Rider" Saber deadly serious as he released his grip on me and materialized his second sword.

The scene turned eerily silent. Time seemed to move in slow motion. I could easily feel my heart beating in my chest. Then, on the gust of a new breeze, the scene before me exploded to life; beauty beyond what I had ever dreamed possible of witnessing danced its deathly ballade before my very eyes.


"Stay here!"

That was the only order either Saber or Lancer had given us, and it had come from Lancer. He leapt towards the assassins who had initially thrown the daggers at me, dragging the attention of all the assassins away from us. I couldn't really see just how well his first strike performed though, for I was still caught in the mesmerizing trance that was Saber and Rider's initial clash.

Clang! Ching, Clang!

How Saber took the charge from the horse was beyond me, even if it wasn't the greatest of charges. Likewise, though, how Rider managed to deflect the strikes from Saber with only his one sword to Saber's two was equally beyond me. The speed at which the two exchanged blows was almost more than I could keep up with. Just when I registered a glint of steel, or a flash of sparks, another move in the dance was already taking place.

Ching! Ching! Clang! Ching Clang!

Rider continued to fight from horseback. Initial thought would have been it put Rider at a massive disadvantage, for multiple reasons. For one, it made it hard to defend or strike on his left flank, seeing as he only had the one scimitar in his right hand. The other immediate, big reason that struck me was that it would render him slower than Saber. I had seen, barely, just how fast Heroic Spirits could move when they wanted.

Yet, the horse managed to keep pace with Saber's quick footwork. It jumped about, constantly repositioning itself to enable Rider to counter Saber's strikes. Not only that, but whenever Saber left even the slightest opening, the horse would strike at him on its own, kicking wildly with its front or back legs. Even though Saber managed to block each kick in time, the force would still send him sliding back a few feet, creating space for Rider to readjust. Rider and steed; well-oiled machine. I could see why this Heroic Spirit was of the Rider class.

Fwip Fwip Fwip. Ching Ding Ding. Fwip Fwip Fwip. Ching Ching Ding. Fwip Fwip Fwip. Ching Cling Ding. Fwip Fwip Fwip. Ching Ding Ding. Fwip Fwip Fwip. Ching Cling Ding. Fwip Fwip Fwip. Cling Cling Ching.

The sound of air being cut and the rapid, repetitive sound of metal striking metal brought my attention away from Saber and Rider, and over to Lancer and his fight. Wary of Lancer's attacks, it would seem, the assassins kept a loose circular formation around him. Constantly leaping about, so quick it was as if they were merely shadows of the night, it was all that Lancer could do to try and block every single dagger tossed his way.

"Man, how do I even deal with this" I could hear Lancer shout out, though if anything, it sounded as if he was enjoying the apparent challenge, rather than getting discouraged.

Fortunately for him, he was rather skilled with both spear and shield alike. The spear was a never-ending blur of death, swatting daggers out of the air like flies. His shield guarded his other flank, though not quite as effectively as the spear. A few daggers would still slip past the defense of his shield, striking his armor. Not that it did any good; whatever those daggers were made of, it wasn't strong enough to dent, let alone pierce, solid steel plate armor. Lancer basically just focused on guarding his exposed head for the most part, and while it made him effectively invulnerable here, it did prevent him from taking any offensive action. At least for the time being.

Plenty of them, but… evidently not Heroic Spirits. Even so, not all twenty are attacking Lancer at once; not enough room without risking friendly fire, it seems. At most… I want to say six are attacking? Maybe eight, max… The rest are just making sure Lancer doesn't break out of the encirclement. Yet, if Lancer hadn't been wearing such heave armor, he would most likely have been heavily wounded by now, if not dead. Familiars of Heroic Spirits must be quite strong indeed, to completely lock down Lancer like this… Could they also be the outcome of a Noble Phantasm then; a creation, like the labyrinth?

A shame it was so hard to see everything going on with my eyes; Heroic Spirits were simply too fast to fully appreciate the beauty of their creations, and destructions, in the immediate moment. Thankfully I was recording this; hope it would show up better on the recording, once I slow down the footage slightly.

"Hungry? Thirsty" I took the camera out of my jacket pocket and held it in one hand to keep recording Lancer's fight with the assassins as I dropped my backpack to the ground.

"…What did you just ask me" Johnathan asked me, looking absolutely perplexed as he turned away from Lancer's fight to look at me.

"I asked if you were hungry or thirsty" I explained, opening my backpack. "Don't got much, sadly: only Pop Tarts and Dr. Pepper. But if you want something, I don't mind sharing."

"Are you actually retarded or something" Sortiara shouted at me. "Saber and Lancer are both engaged in a fight, and you're getting snacks?!"

"Nah, not hungry myself. Just thirsty" I smiled, pulling out a bottle of Dr. Pepper. "Taking that as a no then?"

"Of course that's a no!"

"I can't even- Wait, is that a camera" Johnathan asked, lowering the volume of his voice, but sounding more alarmed than ever.

"This" I gave the camera a little shake subconsciously. "Yeah, what else would it be?"

"...You're recording this" Sortiara hissed.

"Uh, duh."

"You can't be doing that, you moron! Give that here, right now!"

"One, not happening. Two, doesn't matter if I give it to you now; been recording everything I do since the day I summoned my servant. All the other stuff is already on my computer."

It seemed to take a moment for what I said to fully hit the two of them. Their facial expressions changed from shock and anger, Johnathan and Sortiara respectively, to those of absolute horror.

"You mean- Fuck! Fucking shit!"

"…What do you plan to do with that" Johnathan asked, keeping his calm, unlike Sortiara.

"Depends" I admitted.

"On what" Sortiara hissed again.

"Well, a lot of things. You kids know about the cloud, yeah? Digital one, not the ones in the sky."

"Of course we do!"

"Right, so this is my insurance; my greatest weapon. I'm not a magus, nor do I really have a servant, but I want to see all of this, and live through this. So, this is why you can't kill me; I have this shit recorded, and y'all don't want this shit to get released to the outside world. I'm sure this is the hardest evidence that would ever be released too, enough to cause more than just conspiracy theorist to start looking into this shit. My file is set to drop on a twenty-four-hour basis, roughly, and only I can log into my computer, and my account, to reset or cancel the drop timer. However, at the same time, with each passing day, my file grows bigger and bigger. Think of it as mutually assured destruction; someone kills me, and boom, the whole world knows about magic, and the greater the chance I have enough material to get people to take my file seriously."

"And if you live through this" Johnathan asked.

"Then I can get rid of the file. Simple enough really; I just want to live, but also see. This was the only way someone like me could do both."

"…"

"…"

"Really, if y'all wanted me dead, you needed to kill me within the first day or two. But this is day, or rather night, three, so… Guess I win this game, huh?"

I couldn't help but let out a grin as I returned the camera back into my jacket pocket and opened the bottle of Dr. Pepper.

"You're fucking insane" Sortiara could only mutter in disbelief as I took a seat on the ground and returned my attention back to the fight between Saber and Rider.

Clang! Clang! Ching! Clang Clang!

"That's subjective" I laughed in between sips. "I find my course of action for maximizing my shot at survival, while still being able to participate in this game, to be perfectly sane."

Was a bit colder outside than I would have liked, but beyond that… Absolutely beautiful; these dances of death! What dazzling displays; immaculate performances! I was truly going to run out of words. This, this right here, should prove my point to any doubter: the beauty of humanity lay not in its populace, but in its creations and destructions. How could one witness sights such as this, and possibly claim otherwise?