Kiritsugu found himself standing in front of a ruined crater.

His breath shuddered as he saw what should've been the Hyatt Hotel right now. Pieces of glass and brick lay at his feet as he watched the aftermath of destruction continue to vomit its fiery fumes into the atmosphere.

The charges he set weren't on a timer, the wiring and explosives were all in pristine condition before they were placed. He was always sure, always correct, and always prepared for the plan he would have to enact.

It went off without a hitch for the very first few seconds. Pulling the fire alarm and blending into the crowd as soon as everyone left and crowded him, then after that would be one less Master in the Grail War. The Servant would survive without a doubt, but the lack of mana to sustain him would take care of the rest.

But something went wrong immediately after. So so very wrong.

His breath shuddered, veins nearly torn to their limits at the extended use of his Time Alter. Face remained ever stoic, but the modest amount of torn cigarettes dropped on the ground and shaky fingers told a very different story.

The fire alarm had been rigged… he figured that out afterwards. Kiritsugu never once considered that a third party would ever get involved, and that had been his own undoing.

Or rather, the hundreds, maybe even a thousand people now buried under a concrete grave.

From the distance could one make out some of the bodies poking out from the ruins. Blood pooling like a disgusting display of a fountain, while the small hand of a child poked out of the rubble...

It was his time magecraft that saved his life… but his life wasn't enough. The death of a thousand to kill one was… no… stop!

Kiritsugu had long since gone and the Magus Killer took his place in that single instant, his heart turning to stone even faster than the mythological gorgon could do to anyone. A thousand lives for the sake of the world was a drop in the ocean by comparison.

It was a mistake, but one that held the silver lining of getting rid of one nuisance of a magus.

Little did he know that a ball of mercury had managed to emerge from its stone prison.

-oOo-

"Assassin," Kirei spoke, waiting for only seconds before his Servant rematerialized before him.

"What's the situation,?" the Servant reappeared, still wearing that same form-fitting black undersuit and mask.

"Did you happen to see the news by chance?" the priest queried, earning a shake of the head from his Servant in response, "If you're not aware, there was an incident regarding Fuyuki's Hyatt hotel-"

"-and some explosives," Assassin finished, "I know, I was around when it happened. I heard it was a gas leak that collapsed the building… and everyone inside was killed."

Kirei Kotomine stayed silent as his Servant was already putting together the pieces, finally speaking up after some time had passed, "The perpetrator behind this was Kiritsugu Emiya."

That name again, Assassin's worries began to arise from his Master's apparent obsession. Even then, the Heroic Spirit remained silent, pondering the news to himself.

"And now why would he do that?" Kirei asked. Knowing the answer of course, he decided to test his Servant.

"There were traces of magical energy that I sensed there… perhaps it was to take out an enemy Master," Assassin thought to himself, "The only possibilities would be Lancer, since I'd assume he'd want to get rid of Saber's curse to prevent further impedance towards his objective. But even then… he activated the fire alarm… why would he do that if everyone inside was going to be killed anyway?"

Hmph, perhaps the Executor gave his Servant too little credit. Nevertheless, Assassin nodded at his own deduction, thinking on what to do with the information given.

It was obvious there was interference. Caster once again most likely.

Kirei then watched as he removed his mask for the second time since the start of the War. He glanced to himself in a nearby mirror before turning back to his Master, "I've already discovered a way to infiltrate and gain the trust of Emiya's allies in broad daylight, or at least Saber and her companion, it won't be easy until I find an opportunity to strike. However, there are still some key items missing that I need to finalize this trust."

"Oh? Do tell."

"The Einzbern woman is obviously not her Master, the lack of Command Spells are really the only indicator I could go off of… but she's clearly someone that Saber trusts, more so than maybe even her legitimate Master, from what I could gleam from his presence… or rather lack thereof."

All of this from a simple meeting?

Nevertheless, Kotomine allowed his Servant to continue.

"So long as I have the Einzbern's trust, Saber would be unable to suspect a thing. She's wary of me now, though I can break down this barrier with time. But…" the Servant inhaled sharply, "It depends on the funds you have to spare… Master."

Despite appearing as a functionally machine-like and emotionless Servant only used for war, the look on Kirei Kotomine's face was priceless.

-oOo-

A wall had almost been destroyed not even a minute ago, one belonging to the Einzbern manor within the dining room. It was done with neither explosive, nor weapons, nor even through magic, just pure raw strength.

So it was perfectly natural to assume the potential damage had been done by the work of a powerful Servant, right? Well, many would assume the Saber class to be the most powerful Servant in the Holy Grail War, so that would be no farther from the truth.

A wall had almost been destroyed not even two minutes ago had Arturia Pendragon let her anger take hold for even a moment. Her Master and Irisviel had left the room after their meeting.

Or rather, it was a meeting between Kiritsugu, Irisviel, and that other woman, Maiya. Saber was left with no response from her Master as he droned on despite her exclamations. It was like sitting there and being told that she didn't know better by callous parents. She may have been a Heroic Spirit, but was she simply that much of a ghost to him?

Arturia's face contorted into a scowl as she strode through the hallway. Pure moonlight poured through the glass, painting a silver portrait upon the red carpets as Saber passed by each one.

The King of Knights wanted to hate Kiritsugu, but she swallowed down that hatred, smothering it with the deeds of his that Irisviel had told her of as well as her desire for the Grail. She had sought it in a previous life, a life she had well preferred than this one.

But did she really? She thought of the battle between her and Lancer, the once in a lifetime duel between two legends. The battle was exhilarating and left her wanting more from that bout, a true fight between two knights, pitting nothing but their honor and blades against one another to see who would come out the victor. Then there was Irisviel, the adorable woman who was practically stuck at the hip with her, always curious and ever joyful to experience the little things of life and the world around her.

That came crashing down when she was contrasted by the man Irisviel loved… the man Saber resented, but could never fully admit to hating. He was her Master and she was his Servant, she hated his methods but could somewhat respect the aspect that he knew their relationship stemmed purely from a singular goal that both sought to achieve.

That much she could at least give credit to.

Arturia found herself looking out of a balcony, gazing down at the trees in the distance. Her head fell into her hands as her eyes scanned through the woods.

This was probably how Guinevere felt every time she left for her duties as a King. Always waiting for her husband to return with that weary and galant smile. Her duties as the ruler of Britain was unforgiving, but it was necessary.

Thinking of Britain made her think of her kingdom, which in turn made her think of her knights, which then looped back to the here and now. Her current thoughts on that stranger they met, that… "Thom", if she remembered correctly.

Saber appreciated his company to some degree, especially when Irisviel was around, they seemed to be make good conversation in contrast to her more… reserved demeanor. It wasn't that Arturia didn't trust him, she simply still had her suspicions.

A day after a fierce battle and they immediately run into someone new, and a foreigner like herself? There had to be some coincidence in that, right?

"Or maybe…" the woman whispered to herself, "Maybe I'm just overthinking this."

Saber wasn't always one to have doubts, always the firm and resolute one. It was what made her a king in all aspects but what lay beneath her trousers, having to hide her true identity behind a mask of resolve.

A flash of gold and her most sacred sword was in her hands, the wind magic dispelled as she traced the dimly glowing blade with a finger. Her left thumb still lay unmoving, forcing her to bite back a curse as she chastised her own foolishness during her duel with Lancer.

Nevertheless that man, Irisviel's new friend she meant, didn't seem to have any intention to harm them even under her watchful gaze, but that didn't make her any less cautious. There was always the possibility, unlikely as it was, that any one of their friends made along the way could be a Servant or any other threat that could pose just as well.

Though Servants were one of their bigger priorities. Aside from that, all they could do now was wait.

She imagined Irisviel and Kiritsugu talking but didn't know what was about, maybe for once her Master showing some genuine emotion to his wife as she smiled.

And in turn, so did Saber.

The woods were still, for only the briefest of moments, nothing moved. Not the trees, the leaves, nor even the creatures that trod upon the earth. The entirety of the Einzbern manor was calm, serene silence permeating the walls.

Until the forest exploded.

Or rather, a series of consecutive blows that leveled a straight path to the manor that rivalled explosions. Shrapnel of wood shards skewered the forest floor as a newcomer trampled through the forest.

Aiming straight for Arturia Pendragon.

Acting on her instincts, the Heroic Spirit of the Sword took hold of her weapon, becoming enclosed in wind magic once more as she leapt off of the balcony, shooting off like a bullet towards this adversary as she was encased in her magic armor once more.

The two finally collided, a crater forming around the two as their weapons were locked together in a fierce stalemate. Finally coming face to face with her foe, their identity was obvious from the get go.

"Berserker!?"

"▂▂▃▃▄▄▅▅!" the mad knight roared in fury as they delivered a swift kick into Saber's midsection, forcing her back before finally skidding to a halt.

In his hands was what appeared to be a blackened tree trunk, several branches having splinted and flew off after Saber's singular blow, leaving only a deadly bludgeoning object.

No words could be spoken between them, for having her speak to the mad knight would be like coaxing away a storm with words alone. Saber could grant this mad knight a decent battle, whoever he was at least deserved some dignity before their death.

Instincts fired again and she leaped back at the sound of whistling. A pair of spears embedding themselves in an x-shaped formation before Lancer entered the fray, prying the pair from the earth before holding them in each hand.

"Lancer!" Saber exclaimed as she dodged another blow from the mad knight. Perhaps he had been tracking this mad beast and was lead here, "I am in need of your aid. Assist me in ridding Berserker from the War and we can finally have the duel we've longed for."

His face was pained, contorted into a wrathful scowl as he only pointed his single red spear to her, "I would be more than happy to, Saber. But due to the wording of my master's previous command seal… I'm afraid I must abide by his word… and help Berserker kill you even now."

Saber's eyes went wide as he disappeared in a flash, reappearing on the opposite side of Berserker, who was currently holding Saber still in their bladelock with a bare log.

Right behind the legendary King of Knights.

"I'm sorry," was all he said before thrusting the spear forward, closing his eyes as he did so.

It shamed him to kill a worthy foe so dishonorably. This act daring to stain his very soul for such a cheated maneuver.

PING!

Gae Dearg had been misdirected, cutting through the magical armor and grazing Saber's shoulder before the Servant reoriented her balanced, ducking under Berserker's swing as Lancer did so as well to avoid being sent flying into the nearest tree.

Diarmuid whipped his head back before hearing another whistling sound pass by his ears, blocking and dodging several more arrows.

"Archer…" Lancer muttered to himself as he skidded to a halt, turning back to face the two knights locked in combat. He could only watch as another stream of arrows were let loose between them, forcing them apart as their battle hardened instincts had warned them so.

"You're not Iskandar… but you'll do for now," the Servant of the Bow appeared once more with that wrapped bow in hand, the gargantuan Heroic Spirit stood before the blackened knight once more, turning to Saber with a nod, "Berserker shall be mine, Saber. Upon my own name and honor as one of the Servants of the Knight Class, I will allow your duel with Lancer."

Both Servants of Sword and Spear both looked surprised, turning towards each other with their own weapons at the ready as Archer began his own duel with Berserker, who seemed more angered than ever with the larger man interrupting their fight.

With a maddened roar once more, Berserker charged at his foe with reckless abandon. Archer only grinned as his bow disappeared from sight and stood his ground. With unmatched strength, the black knight swung the weaponized log in their hand at him, snapping the improvised weapon in two as it made contact with the giant with a resounding crack!

Wood shards and splinters were strewn about the battlefield before Berserker launched another swing from his right fist into the face of Archer, maddening cries of insanity growing ever more louder as he did so.

What he didn't expect was for Archer to catch his fist without hesitation.

"The same trick won't work twice on me, mad knight," the Servant of the Bow spoke with a low growl before retaliating with a strike of his own. Without letting go of Berserker, Archer launched a strike of his own, an uppercut from his right catching the knight directly below the chin of their helmet, causing their head to snap up in pain.

With a slight grunt, Archer took hold of Berserker's arm with both hands while they were still in a daze, whipping around in a complete spin before finally letting go. As soon as both hands left the knight, Berserker found themselves sailing through the forest at mach speeds, the sound barrier breaking as hundreds of trees were destroyed by Archer's counterattack, skipping along the floor like a smooth rock upon water before finally coming to a halt, a small crater having formed as Berserker struggled to stand once more.

Looking back up, Berserker caught sight of Archer, his bow now in hand with an arrow nocked at the ready.

Archer aimed with a single arrow and fired, hoping to catch the maddened Servant between the eyes. Time almost slowed down as he let go, letting the arrow fly as it traveled freely through the air, seemingly slicing through it as it finally hit Berserker. Archer watched as the arrow made contact, exploding in a haze of dust.

The cloud of dust surrounding Berserker combined with his own hazy enchantment made it hard for Archer to make out the condition of his adversary.

"▂▂▃▃▄▄▅▅!" a roar split the air as out from the dust charged that mad knight. Blackened tendrils from various parts of his armor whipping out in a frenzy as the space between both Heroic Spirits began to narrow. An arrow split the air once more, aimed for the gaps in Berserker's helmet. Whipping about the battlefield, a tendril grabbed a lone rock off of the grass and lashed forth. Arrow collided with blackened rock and the projectile exploded.

All under a second and Berserker continued his onslaught.

Archer frowned and fired another arrow, then another, and another once more, 'So he's using the very battlefield to his advantage… truly an awe-inspiring knight even beneath that shroud of madness."

But the sounds of battle clashing behind Archer told a different story. Saber and her duel with Lancer was far from coming to a close, but the passion behind each strike sought to end it as soon as possible.

For a moment, Berserker drew closer, arms just barely able to touch the larger man as he reached out with wrathful intent.

Until Archer took a step back.

The mind's eye that lay within Archer read the battlefield around him. Even without truly seeing, the Servant of the Bow was able to tell where and when each Servant was capable of striking. Take, for example, Lancer just about to make a well-aimed strike for Saber's breastplate as she was left exposed due to the negligence of the curse in her arm, back nearly touching Archer as he too was nearly within striking distance.

A single move can change the outcome of any battle. With but a shove from Archer's hand and a swivel of his foot, Saber was sent hurtling away and Archer was able to sidestep the blow.

With that single move, Gae Dearg sliced through Berserker's armor, dispelling the enchantment that beheld his identity for the briefest of moments. While Lancer leapt back, eyes the size of dinner plates as he witnessed the identity of the knight standing before him.

"...Oh," Diarmuid swallowed, glancing towards Saber, who was just now picking herself back up, blood pooling from her lips from the force of Archer's retaliation.

The mad knight let out a roar of pain as he pulled out the spear and tossed it aside, which just so happened to be in Lancer's direction as the blackened enchantment hid himself once more.

"It's too late, Berserker," said Servant turned his head, letting out a grunt of pain as a muscled fist found itself into the helmet of the mad knight. Rocketing like a speeding bullet, several more arrows were shot forth, striking various parts of the Servant before another force slammed against Berserker's back, crumpling the armor like paper and shattering the ground as he met the ground face first as Archer had reappeared behind the knight, relentlessly assaulting Berserker.

"I've already seen your face, Berserker, I already know your True Name. That armor of yours is recognizable by even the lowliest of spirits that exist within the Throne of Heroes," Berserker threw another wild punch, only to be caught in the back and pinned down by the Servant of the bow.

"Show me your true Noble Phantasm if you wish to even stand a chance of surviving against me."

Berserker went still as his foe continued to pin him down, the mad knight now fully aware that his opponent was no longer playing around.

"Show me Arondight, Sir Lancelot."

Assassin was playing a most dangerous game, hunting a deadly prey as four Heroic spirits were locked in battle just outside and both the Master of Lancer and the Magus Killer were in a fight of their own. Rematerializing into a body of flesh, Assassin felt the line of mana that Kirei had shared with him.

It appears that the priest didn't need his help even against two of Kiritsugu's own allies.

Nevertheless, the Spartan felt a presence within the Einzbern castle, a familiar that he had sensed at the beginning of the war. It was like that of the Doll that he had come across, but many times stronger than before.

The Servant of the Shadows slinked down a corridor with the grace of a cat, hardened instincts fired into his mind as his ears picked up the sound of gunfire. Peeking out of the corner, he caught the form of Kayneth El-Melloi Archibald walking away with a fresh new bullet wound in his shoulder as a result of his carelessness.

He had to give it to the Magus Killer, Assassin couldn't help but be at least somewhat impressed by Emiya's practicality. Never did he think he'd see another user of firearms, especially in Japan.

Brushing away the thought, the Spartan crossed the corridor in silence, not bothering to take the risk of being seen by the magus. Unsheathing his knife, Assassin followed the mana trail, intent on finding this oh-so familiar source that had appeared before him once more. Perhaps the two mortal foes were busy fighting one another to notice this presence, or didn't bother to find out as they were too focused on one another to care.

Nevertheless, the Spartan was grateful for these small details as he traveled undisturbed.

It didn't take too long for the Assassin to find the source of the presence. It only lie beyond a single wooden door, brown and featureless as it was, it could've still been a trap for any Servant foolish enough to-

PTEW!

The sound of muffled gunshots and the smell of gunpowder permeated the air, Assassin stumbled back as three new holes had formed on his body, all of which dangerously close to his heart, but not enough to outright kill. The Servant of the Dagger bit back a pained hiss as the bullets had successfully managed to puncture his own bodysuit as blood slowly pooled out from the wounds.

The fact that a mundane weapon had managed to damage him told Assassin enough about the identity of this presence.

Caster decided to show himself.

Assassin pushed his weight forward broke down the door with ease, the frame itself cracked somewhat as the Servant stumbled in, dagger in hand and ready to face off against his foe.

What he got instead was a shadowy figure clutching a stack of papers in their left hand while the other was a thin and still-smoking rifle. Assassin barely managed to catch a glimpse of their appearance before they disappeared in a haze of mana.

Immediately too. His Master must've used a Command Seal in that moment.

It was an office of some sort, a nearby cabinet opened up violently and dozens of sheets of paper strewn about the place. Six walked towards the center of the room and picked one up, studying the contents before tossing it aside. It was information.

Information on the combatants of the war that Kiritsugu had gathered over a period of time.

The sound of even more gunfire caught his ears, followed by more loud crashes against nearby walls. It seemed as though the entire caste was being shaken by the battle going on within the confines of the hallways.

"Speak of the devil," Assassin hissed to himself as he turned and left the room, ignoring the wounds on his chest and turning back to the source of the gunfire.

A single gunshot was all he heard, much different than the rapid fire of the Magus Killer's Calico.

A single gunshot… and just like that, a magical presence died, the circuits of a magus fried out, torn and twisted beyond repair. Sputtering gasps, cries of agony as Kayneth El-Melloi Archibald had keeled over, barely clinging to life as he laid in a pool of his own Mystic Code.

Assassin watched the scene play out from afar, the hallways darkened by moonlight and shattered light bulbs as the mix of blood and mercury reflected the luminescence. Kiritsugu Emiya strode forward, perhaps to finish off his opponent before stopping.

Lancer had returned to his Master's side, both spears held up menacingly as he stared down the Magus Killer, "That's enough from you, Master of Saber."

Both Assassin, peering out from the room, and Kiritsugu watched as Lancer picked his Master up without effort, "I could easily kill you right here and now, especially for interrupting my duel with Saber, but my Master's safety is now my highest priority."

The Servant of the shadows blinked, leaning in to see that Kayneth El-Melloi Archibald was now missing yet another Command Seal from his twitching hand. He assumed Emiya had done the same, lowering the submachine gun in response.

Lancer's eyes hardened before turning away, "Your death will not be guaranteed now, as the promise of another fight with Saber shall elate me so. But after Saber is dead, I will come for you next, you pitiful excuse for a Master."

"Master, Kiritsugu's within range, Lancer's Master has been incapacitated and is currently in full retreat via Lancer," Assassin spun the blade into a reverse grip, "He won't even see me approaching."

As soon as Lancer left, Assassin burst into a silent sprint, the Magus Killer unaware of his own impending doom as the Servant crossed the hallway in the blink of an eye. The blade in his hand intent on digging into the Master's back and piercing his heart before exiting and stabbing into the back of his neck, severing his spinal cord for good measure. Assassin's dagger just barely the tip of a needle's length away from completing his objective-

"No."

Before he could even finish the deed, Assassin found himself within the woods. Silent as the death he wished to deliver. The Spartan looked around, sensing several sources of mana some distances away: two stronger ones fading away, both of them obviously Servants; while a weaker one had long since ran from the two former.

Unfortunately for the Spartan, he was aware that the presence was his Master, having disengaged from his own objective and preferring to stay away from the heat of two Servants duking it out.

The command had been etched into his mind as soon as he reappeared here, a command that forced his hand from killing the Master of Saber, one of the most powerful Servants in the Holy Grail War.

The Spartan was completely unaware that his hands were trembling. Assassin-class Servants were calm, methodical types that were tailored to the deaths of unsuspecting foes, particularly Masters.

Noble Six was far from calm, especially with his own purpose of even being summoned taken away from him by his own Master. The Spartan closed his eyes, palm pressed against his helmet, where his forehead would've been.

"I'm getting sick of your games, Master," Assassin whispered to himself, twirling the dagger between his fingers in an unconscious habit of irritation. He'd have to speak with Kirei over this apparent breach of his own mission.

He understood that his Master had taken particular attention to Saber's Master… but the Spartan didn't expect such obsession to run this far deep. It seemed as though Kirei's hoping to gain something from their interaction.

That begged the question: what?

A shuddering gasp snapped him out of his thoughts, his senses expanding and tuning themselves to find an even weaker presence beginning to sputter out. With a sigh, Assassin broke into a slow sprint, which for anyone else would've been the equivalent of a competing Olympic sprinter.

It could've been an enemy Master on the verge of death, he hadn't seen Berserker's Master around, but considering the Servant themselves had been handled by Archer's sudden intrusion.

Assassin finally slowed down, crawling to a walk as he finally got within view of his target, who had been lying on their stomach. Only things that stuck out to him was a black suit and… an absurd amount of blood. The gaping hole sticking out of their back wasn't helping either.

The Spartan knelt down, looking over the wounded with a slight tilt of his head. Carefully with both hands, he turned the person over to get a better look at their face.

"Oh," was all the Spartan said. Of all the people he suspected, he didn't expect her.

That begged another question, Assassin thought to himself as he looked around the woods: What the hell happened here?

Moments Earlier…

Lancer watched as Archer continued his bout with the mad knight. Berserker's fighting ability, while ferocious, held a level of skill that only a true knight would possess; but even then Archer was holding his own quite well, able to match the black knight blow for blow and even managing to overtake him just by pure brute force.

And to keep up with a Knight of the Round Table blow for blow? Remarkable! Even if he was summoned as a Berserker, the combat ability that belonged to Sir Lancelot never once withered.

But… did Saber know about Berserker's origins?

Diarmuid parried another blow from the shorter woman, her burning eyes completely focused on him with that same intensity.

No… perhaps she didn't, Archer had pushed her aside and felled her before she could get a chance to see. And it would shatter her resolve to learn what happened to her most beloved of knights.

So he kept his mouth shut, for Saber's sake.

"What's the matter, Saber?" Lancer grinned as he thrusted Gae Buidhe once more, watching as sparks flew off of Saber's holy sword, "Having trouble keeping up with a little cut?"

Saber's response was to strike even harder, forcing Lancer to take a step back as he was sent skidding, only able to stop as he dug his lance into the ground.

"Hardly," her answer was partnered with a playful smirk before charging back towards him, forcing him on the defensive with a downward strike, the harsh blow from the wind nearly forcing him to take a knee, but he refused to kneel to his equal, the King of Knights that had honored Lancer in single combat, "Prepare to meet your end, Diarmuid!"

Another gust of wind blew apart his defenses before Saber thrusted forward. Spears in hand thrown out to their sides and exposing him for a fatal blow. But Lancer was prepared to win against his opponent, even willing to make a bold risk in order to hold the advantage.

Saber watched as he let go of both spears, bringing his hands together to catch the blade in his palms just in time. It was by pure dumb luck alone that Lancer's hands had caught themselves on the flattened ends rather than the blade itself, but the abrupt stop still caused some blood to leak from his hands, dispersing across the blade in a red spray.

"As I said before, Saber," the green spearman grinned, "I already memorized the length of your blade, it shan't be necessary to hide it any longer."

The swordswoman pulled her sword back and responded with a swift kick to Lancer's abdomen, throwing him back before catching the spears now embedded in the ground and slowing his movements down to a crawl.

"Whether you can see it doesn't matter, Lancer," Saber replied, raising her sword to eye level, blade pointed at the man, "But whether or not you're fast enough to stop it in time does!"

A burst of speed unparalleled to all fighting shattered the air around Saber, creating a vacuum within that split second as she charged at Lancer in the blink of an eye. The two knights clashed with a ferocity unmet before as the area around them was torn asunder and resembled a battlefield proper.

Meanwhile on the other side of the forest, Archer and Berserker raged on. The mad knight having managed to pull himself free from the giant's grasp and kicking him away, helmet twitching slightly at the sight of his grin.

"Come on then, knight of the Round Table," Archer crossed his arms, "Surely you wish to save that blade for your king, do you not?"

Of course, Berserker said nothing. Archer didn't expect an answer anyway… but he did want a response. So the Servant of the Bow merely unfolded his arms, looking back to the battle of the other two Servants, "And your king just so happens to be nearby, perhaps I can go tell her and let her know that you've made your retu-"

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-!" Berserker let out a high wail of anger, disappearing in a flash and reappearing behind the gargantuan Heroic Spirit.

The Servant Lancelot stood back up to full height, the haze gone and that blackened sword in his hands. Berserker looked back while Archer did the same, a surprised look on his face as his body began to separate, a thin line starting from the corner of his left shoulder to the top of his right pelvic bone.

In that instant, a single life had been claimed from the force alone, and Arondight taking two more in that same instance.

With that, Berserker disappeared from the battlefield, called forth from the choking cries of his own Master as Archer was now left to pull himself back together… quite literally, before he too dematerialized and disappeared.

Tokiomi would not be happy about this revelation...

Only two remained.

Saber coughed up blood from her wounds, bloody vomit sliding down the length of her blade as she looked up at her rival, "I guess, this is the end of the line for us, Lancer," her hacking coughs miming laughter as her lips pulled up into a smile, "I'm glad to have met you, Diarmuid."

Lancer looked back with a pleased smile on his face, despite the gore that covered it, "Likewise, King of Knights, your presence honors me with a fierce battle that should be sung throughout the ages. But… you're a stubborn one, aren't you?"

In the midst of battle, both combatants had decided to end their battle with a thundering finale. Both Servants skewered upon the opponent's blades. Excalibur hidden in its sheath of wind stabbing Lancer through the chest, while Gae Dearg having sliced through Saber's magical armor. Both having missed vital weakpoints by mere fractions… and were now in the middle of a stalemate.

Nevertheless, it was true, they both knew it. One could end the other at any point in time if they so wished, but it was a gamble neither were willing to take. The mind's eye of Lancer saw Saber releasing a burst of prana, widening the wound and blowing his innards apart, while Saber's Instinct saw Lancer slice out her throat with that other golden spear in his hand, sealing her fate with yet another cursed wound.

Two unstoppable forces opposed each other, it would've simply been a matter of which would give out first. The wind blew by, tossing up a gust as the loosened braid of Arturia's hair fell down, clinging to her face as sweat and blood dripped. Even under such grievous conditions, she looked no less kingly, possibly even more so under the heat of battle.

In truth, Saber was fading quickly, not enough mana to even give her the strength to lift her sword. Her wounds were serious, if not outright fatal. But it didn't matter, Arturia wouldn't dare disrespect her opponent by showing such weakness. Not even as he pulled the shorter spear back, aiming for her neck as realization quickly dawned on him.

"Goodbye, Saber," Lancer thrust the blade forward, Saber closed her eyes and awaited death to swiftly greet her.

Instead, she only felt the wind in her hair as a gust blew it back. Saber opened her eyes to find that Lancer was gone, vanished in a burst of mana. Arturia breathed a sigh, blood pooling from her lips as she started to lose balance, "Perhaps next time... Lancer."

With the Gae Dearg gone, there was nothing to keep her standing on her feet. Her face quickly met the grass as her sword and armor disappeared, her vision started to blur and fade as Servant Saber was left to die alone in the woods.

Even as a Servant, she failed to notice the approaching steps of a nearby stranger…

-oOo-

Irisviel woke up with a start, pulling herself over to her side as blood spilled from her lips. She let out a shuddering gasp, vision coming into focus as she spotted Maiya lying not too far away from her as well. The young woman looked down to see the three stab wounds on her midsection had disappeared.

It was all thanks to Avalon that she had survived…

Her face darkened as memory returned to her. That man… Kirei…

The clouds passed by overhead, it was still night. How long had she been unconscious? Minutes? An hour? Two?

It didn't matter at this point. What mattered was what happened next.

"M-...Maiya?" the pale woman turned the unconscious woman on her back, seeing blood dripping down from her lips. Eyes widened as her hand pressed against her own lips, the other pressed against Maiya's chest, searching for… for…

Thu-thump… thu-thump…

Irisviel exhaled. A heartbeat, it was faint, but it was still there. Her hands shook as mind began to still itself, focusing on the priorities at hand.

The wounds that Maiya had bore began to knit together, the soft green glow of healing magic placing itself into effect as the black-haired gunman was finally stabilized. Irisviel noticed that Maiya looked oddly peaceful for the first time since… well, this is probably the first time at all she ever saw her like this.

Fighting alongside Kiritsugu on all sorts of missions. She couldn't even imagine all the things she's seen and done over the years.

Another thump got her attention. The healing came to a halt as she turned around to see a grisly sight before her.

It was Saber, her clothes were in tatters while her limbs had been wrapped in strips of her own suit. Once immaculate porcelain skin now caked and spattered with blood, Saber's face twitched and contorted into heavily pained expressions as Irisviel stared down in horror.

Irisviel swallowed, breathing in deep and steadying her breathing as soon as she realized she was hyperventilating.

"H-how…?" she tried to speak, words trying to come out of her mouth but failed.

'How did she even get here?' Irisviel's thoughts finished for her. Her eyes flickered down to see the blood trailing from Saber's lips. She immediately responded by laying her hands on the forms of both women lying unconscious before her, focusing her healing thaumaturgy on the two.

It would take longer, now that she was providing for two people rather than one, but they'd be fine eventually. In the meantime, Iri would have to keep an eye on the two and keep them safe for now.

A hollow laugh left her lips for the briefest of moments. Right, now she was the one taking care of them, the same that had been in charge of taking care of her in the first place.

Such was… such was the luck of Irisviel Von Einzbern, she supposed.

Saber was beautiful in her own way as well. A young pretty blonde girl with regality yet bearing a strange type of innocence unknown from the world. That little strand of hair that never failed to stick out was flicked aside as the young homunculus girl looked down, watching as the blood from her body began to fade as her wounds continued to heal.

The largest injury, that gaping and pulsating hole underneath her ribcage began to pull itself together until it left an ugly gash that would eventually heal.

Questions sprung into Iri's mind, but the largest were on her mind: who had dealt so much injury to her that it would force her into unconsciousness… and who went out of their way to patch her up long enough to bring her here?

The first answer was much easier to answer than the second. Of course it had to be Lancer, Saber would've learnt her lesson against Lancer's battle with both spears and would've worn it during the entirety of the fight. Perhaps her earlier wound would've played to Lancer's advantage suffered the consequences… but that fact that she was still here meant that Lancer was probably wounded just as much.

Now for the second answer. Any and all possibilities fizzled out, it couldn't have been a Servant or a nearby Master, they would've killed the Saber Servant purely because of her power. It was an impossibility that now left Irisviel without thought… and that frustrated her to no end.

Whoever it was, she'd have to thank later. But now?

For now, they needed to rest.

-oOo-

"...!"

Assassin grunted as a Doll had appeared from within the trees, slamming their fist into the man's gut as he had been suckerpunched out of nowhere. The grunt was less out of pain and more that he was even surprised in the first place. Was this some kind of magecraft that dulled his senses?

The force of the blow sent him skidding back. The punch was comparable to a Servant bearing C-rank Strength. Just what the hell was Caster pumping into these things?

Another appeared out of the corner of his eye. A flash of steel entered the Spartan's hand as he sliced upward, stepping away as several digits had then fallen to the ground.

Three more entered the fold as the last Doll that attacked was clutching their still bleeding hand, now three fingers less than before.

All of them in various apparel. Dresses and suits, casual and business, there was no discrimination over what vessels Caster had decided to take for himself, only that they would fulfill their uses: getting rid of Assassin.

Assassin's battle senses flared to life, dulled however much they were, as every vile puppet began their assault. The Servant weaved through every blow with all the skill of a trained martial artist, retaliating in return with quick stabs through the spines, necks, and heads of his enemies.

Before long, each one had been taken care of. All of which lying in a pool of their own blood. Assassin shook his head, disappointed by Caster's underestimation of his own class.

On the most technical of definitions, Assassin and Caster Servants were by far the weakest in the grand scale of the Grail War. Casters were physically weaker and their magecraft often did little against the Knight classes with their resistance towards such. While Assassins bore no resistance and could only make do by removing the Masters.

Though Assassin would have to give it to this elusive Caster, the fact that he was having to play scout for his Master was certainly giving the Servant a bad impression of his own physical ability. He could only hope no other Servants in a future Grail war would have to go through this horrendous experie-

SHING!

The Servant gasped, blood pouring from his mouth as a blade had found itself embedded into his back. The Spartan stumbled forward, eyes bloodshot as he spun the knife in his hand and buried it into the skull of his opponent.

Blade met stone as it clattered against the hard surface of this new foe. Assassin's eyes widened behind his helmet as more and more of these things appeared before him.

Were these… golems?

Thin skeletal automatons began to sprout from the hollowed out vessels of the Dolls they inhabited, like a snake shedding its skin… only on a scale that unnerved even the steel-bound Spartan.

Sheathing the knife, Assassin raised his fists, still bleeding from his wrist and back, one from a surprise attack and the other for… well, he'll have to speak with his Master about that particular issue later.

About a dozen golems, more or less, fingers like blades and their skeletal bodies like the carapace of a scarab beetle… meaning they might as well be shit.

Glowing amber eyes flickered in the dark woods, all of them unmoving as though waiting for a response from the Assassin.

"You're getting desperate, Caster," was all Assassin said before shooting forth with the speed of a bullet. The man's fist smashing through the skin of one golem before sidestepping a swipe from another.

The Spartan would be lying to himself if he said he wasn't pissed off by Caster and his blatant ignorance of his own status as a Servant.

Dodging another stab aimed at his neck, the Spartan took hold of the arm about to gouge him and snapped it off with little effort before smashing it over the golem's head, breaking both skull and limb alike as it fell apart.

An elbow strike and a kick to the side and two more fell in place. Assassin was only somewhat entertained, if he could even call it a thing. He wouldn't often be excited about fighting, but it was a purpose that he was born to do, so even fighting these worthless training dummies might as well perform some modicum of satisfaction to the Spartan.

A minute later and Assassin finally permanently dismantled the golems. His body was marred with slight nicks and scratches, merely lucky hits that the golems had gotten on him.

The Spartan sighed to himself, crushing a broken golem arm beneath his foot, "I'm getting soft."

Nevertheless, he managed to get a feel for Caster's intentions and whatever other powers the Servant of magecraft was capable of. Sending some lackeys after him to get rid of a witness and failing miserably, perhaps to gauge him for the future.

With that being said, Assassin disappeared, leaving only the corpses and broken machinery strewn about.

Unknown to him, two had been watching him through the eyes of these automatons.