Genesis 6: Entrapment

"Saber. It seems our target has changed."

It was only through his Master's words that Mordred was able to collect himself. Fury overcame him; he seemed intent on stopping at nothing to unmask this knight before him. Assuming an offensive stance, he made a mad dash for Rider, throwing all of his momentum into a wide strike to his side. His blade met a stone pillar, slicing it clean in two. As the massive column crumbled downwards, Shirou and Christie took cover by the entranceway of the castle.

"Rage becomes you. You are capable of quicker blows." Each blood-drunk swing Mordred took was met with an effortless parry, until Rider finally found it fit to force the furious warrior back with another vigorous strike to the midsection of his blade.

Stumbling to his feet, Mordred spat at the ground before Rider, eyes filled with malice and discontent. In the corner of his eye, he caught Christie waving arrogantly to him, chewing a piece of bubblegum and smiling without a care. The girl took a seat against a wall with Shirou, watching intently as if the fight were nothing more than a scene from an action movie. Shirou was almost surprised she wasn't munching away at some popcorn.

Mordred, as it seemed, did not react well to ridicule. He took off towards the defenseless girl, raising his blade once more. He swung the blade fiercely to behead the overconfident girl, once more feeling his strike stop abruptly before connecting. The difference between the two Servants' speed and strength was clear to both sides by now. Thrown back for the third time, he howled in frustration, slamming the edge of his sword into the ground. The entire structure seemed to rumble, and sections of the ceiling and foundation began to break off and plummet to the ground.

Struggling to his feet, Shirou exclaimed, "he's going to level the entire place!" He felt helpless in this state, barely able to concentrate on even the simplest tracing.

Christie let out a sigh of disappointment, as if her fun was just ruined. "Rider, this is getting too messy," she yelled.

Rider responded immediately to this, as if he had run into this situation in countless encounters past. Within his free hand, he produced a set of four brilliant golden rings, glistening with a peculiar aura. Tossing them towards Mordred was all he had to do, as it seemed the enraged Servant lacked any regard towards defending himself at this point. As they were flung, they began to enlarge midair, spinning and turning elegantly through their trajectory.

"Your foolishness poses a danger to all of us. May you be bound by the Perilous Rings four."

As they neared Mordred, they seemed to take on magnetic qualities, taking a life of their own and scattering to latch onto his wrists and ankles. The then-unsuspecting Servant seemed as a child trying to avoid a spider; despite his continuous flailing and scrambling, the rings found no trouble clasping around their targets. Once they were all in place, they lost their odd glow, losing their liveliness and transforming into what could only be described as deadweight. The tip of Mordred's sword fell to the ground as his posture suddenly hunched over. As he struggled to become accustomed to the immense burden wrought by the rings, he tried to no avail to rip one of the rings from his wrists.

"Hopefully, this will grant you the lesson of not swinging your weapon so wastefully, and with such careless disregard." Rider simply remained still in his position, as if to beckon an attack from Saber.

Though he was considerably weighed down, Mordred was a Servant regardless. As he advanced towards his enemy with labored, forceful sprints, he left behind a trail of cracked imprints in the stone tiles. Clutching his weapon towards the hilt, he brought the blade upwards in a spinning slash, using the added weight on his arms to provide extra momentum.

Nothing but air.

Fighting to recover, the Saber had to catch himself in his steps to avoid from collapsing in a heap. Turning to find where Rider had ended up had revealed that he had already made a good amount of distance between the two combatants. He simply stood there as always, constantly waiting for the next move.

Having a better feel for his weight now, Mordred resorted to changing his tactics. After taking a good number of bounds to build momentum, the Servant suddenly sprung from his right foot, leaping in a nearly perpendicular fashion to the ground. The force by which he propelled himself almost took him through the ceiling. From this height, it would be difficult for Rider to judge the ultimate landing point of his blade. Furthermore, the impact of the attack would have a considerable blast radius that would be undeniably difficult to escape. As he let gravity take him to his descent, Mordred let a smirk fall across his lips.

But, why didn't his target move? Surely he couldn't have been thinking that he could protect against such a forceful blow. No Servant could withstand a blow like that to the head. And yet, all he did was gaze up at the approaching figure with his blade lowered. Mordred counted down to himself to prepare for the impact. Three… two… he raised his hand?

Mordred definitely struck something; he was sure of that. Why was he suspended in midair, then? A bright flash blinded him from seeing what he'd made contact with. As the light receded, a massive translucent red cross appeared before him, extending outwards from Rider's outstretched palm. Mordred felt his momentum rapidly drop, and by the time it dissipated, so did the crimson hue. Rider stepped nonchalantly to the side, letting Mordred plunge to the floor in a discomforting mess.

"Every knight has his shield. You know that very well."

In an unexpected gesture, Rider picked up the sword Mordred had dropped, offering it back to him in an outstretched arm. However, rather than taking it as a sign of respect, Mordred saw this as another opportunity to mock him. Gathering himself, he simply shot a spiteful glare at the dark figure.

At once, Mordred felt himself showered with a barrage of golden needles. The glowing sticks seemed to be nothing more than a mildly painful nuisance, and he shook the assault off quickly. Turning his attention towards the source, he caught Christie snickering mischievously and looked upon her disdainfully.

He'd had enough.

The white-clad knight took a leap backwards, landing violently on one knee, knowing at this point that Rider would not follow. Placing both hands on the cracked floor before him, Mordred closed his eyes in what seemed to Shirou like a deep prayer.

"An army forsaken by God," Mordred muttered in a strange accent.

Christie promptly spit out her gum in response to this, springing to her feet. It was apparent there was something she recognized. "Rider, stop 'im! It's time to finish the job," she yelled in a panic.

"The opponent is unarmed," Rider responded methodically.

"…a son forsaken by his father."

"Now's not the time for that! Just kill 'im now!"

"An endless battlefield of pain. Malice will bring about more malice."

"I cannot comply with that order."

Shirou was confused and unknowing of what to do, if he could do anything. What was Mordred doing? What was Christie doing? He struggled back to his feet, feeling his wounds punish him for every movement.

"Two hordes wrought with bloodlust. Crimson shall fill the rivers."

"Damn it, Rider!"

"As we fall, so shall you join us in Hell…"

Christie rolled up her sleeves, stepping forward to use her Reiju.

"The Carnage of Camlann."

"Rider, just—"

Christie's words were sucked into the vacuum that rapidly engulfed the entire room. Shirou had to shut his eyes to avoid the violent flash of light that permeated the area, and he raised his forearm to shield himself. The potent force drawing him towards Mordred gradually faded, and he opened his eyes.