As Saber clashed with Berserker nearby, Rider looked down at who he could only presume was the not-dead Archer. Chuckling a bit, he lowered his voice.

"You play a dangerous game, my friend."

Archer, eyes locked on the battle, responded after a beat.

"Oh? How so?"

"Only a fool baits a lion so eagerly. While I'll happily admit my recruitment attempt didn't go as I'd hoped, at least I didn't leave those two wanting to kill me afterwards." Rider glanced up at Lancer, then at Saber, then down. "At least, I hope I didn't."

Archer kept his eyes on the battle, but was acutely aware that Lancer and his Master were having a bit of an argument. Lancer continually shot venomous glances his way while words like 'honor,' 'dishonor,' and 'Command Seals' floated down. He smirked slightly, and quickly ran the last minute back in his head.

I witnessed Lancer and Saber expose their identities openly. I was punched into the battlefield and reinforced my bones and muscles mid-air. I landed, and taunted Saber into melee range. All bruises and other skin damage are healed, and I have a moderate (and now slowly growing) surplus in "Tank 1." I have verified both points of fact I intended to when starting this encounter, however, I discovered another one that must be dealt with before I withdraw.

Berserker threw my broken Caladbolg II. However, it was changed.

For just a moment, he closed his eyes. The blackened corkscrewed sword appeared in his mind's eye.

Basic structure unchanged. History intact . . . wait. It's been appended. Skill and strength of the
wielder . . .

What.

His eyes snapped open, and he projected a larger, awkward-looking nameless blade and manifested his bow. Rider's eyebrows raised.

"What are you up to?"

"An experiment."

Archer nocked, pulled. and waited. Berserker was currently swinging around a large flat chunk of the side of the freight container as if he'd been doing so all his life. Once his back was to Archer and Saber had eye contact with the same, he fired.

In a liquid, beautiful motion, Berserker flung his makeshift weapon towards Saber, snatched the new sword out of midair, and then slashed through the metal as if it wasn't even there, now holding a blackened version of the sword he caught. Saber resumed fighting, but seemed to slightly relax in the face of a weapon she was used to dealing with. She was still serious, of course, but the sheer size of the new blade made it easy to predict and deflect, even with her injury.

Structure unchanged. History appended. Wielder records updated. Sword now enchanted, D-rank.

Rider looked impressed.

"Hou? Our black friend seems to have a unique talent. You do too, from the looks of it. Shooting swords from a bow? Ha. And what a bow that was."

Archer didn't comment. A mistake. My bow is made from materials that don't quite exist yet even in this time. Too close a look could be a clue. At least it's not a Noble Phantasm.

"Flattery will get you nowhere."

"Oh? How about directness, then? Will you j-"

"Not interested."

"Ha! It was worth a shot."

And subject changed. So, Berserker can appropriate objects. How . . . annoying. Well, at least I can still dismiss my projections even after they have been corrupted. I was a little too close to that Caladbolg shot for comfort.

He glanced to the left after hearing Lancer lightly land on the ground. Lancer did not look happy.

"My Master and I have come to an agreement, Red Knight. So long as you are present, I will not be forced to finish my duel with Saber under . . . dishonorable circumstances. As such, I challenge you. For abusing the honor of Saber, and for shamelessly intending to attack my Master while I was occupied.

Archer closed his eyes and sighed.

"You weren't occupied, you were standing there like a slack-jawed idiot. You would have intercepted that arrow effortlessly." He opened his eyes and swept an arm in the general direction Kayneth had escaped. "Besides, even if you hadn't that little ball of fun your Master has following him would have done the job itself, am I right?"

Actually, that is a wild guess.

"Nevertheless," Lancer intoned.

Guess confirmed!

"Well, whatever you want. Tch. Damned annoying lances."

Lancer reared back a bit and assumed a stance. He raised an eyebrow.

"What, Archer? Am I not good enough to be addressed by a full set of titles and my name?"

"Nope. You're not adorable enough."

In the background, there was a very uncharacteristic whoosh sound as a sword completely missed its mark, and a growl-like exclamation as the battle was rejoined with more fervor. Rider's eyes widened a bit again.

"A dangerous game, indeed."

Lancer glared.

"Even now you poke fun at her? This will be even more satisfying." He crouched and was about to advance.

Damn it. The red lance is a royal pain. I don't think I can project anything short of Avalon that can actually protect me from it, since it will go through 'conjured' material like butter. Which means . . .

His bow appeared once again in his hand.

I am no stranger to using my bow in melee, but I only have one of these, and projecting a replacement is a royal pain. Lancer can actually block any of my projections with the red lance instead of destroying them outright, but he doesn't know that yet. If I play my cards right, his raw skill will guarantee he blocks with the yellow lance, or . . . ah ha. My options are quite limited, but this can work. I'd honestly rather be fighting Berserker. Well, when all feasible defense fails . . .

In his other hand appeared something he'd really rather never see or use again, but rather suited the situation at hand. Right on cue, Lancer's eyes widened to saucers and he didn't advance.

"Gae Bolg? Impossible. You're not the Hound."

Archer smiled.

"Nevertheless," he intoned.

Lancer began to sweat as severe killing intent radiated out from Archer. If there was any doubt as to his ability to invoke the dread spear, it was gone.

"To be honest I'm pretty sure you can kill me despite this. I'm a sore loser, so if I die, I want to make sure you die too. No hard feelings?"

"Bastard! So is this how weakling Heroes stand up to their betters? Trickery and blasphemy?"

Archer blinked (without dropping his killing intent an inch).

"Hero? Oh, you misunderstand." He lunged forward and made a few thrusts.

"Today, I'm just a man." He was easily blocked by Gae Buide and blocked the counter from Gae Dearg with his bow. Ouch. "Monsters kill men," he continued.

Lancer went on the offensive, despite trying to keep himself at maximum range- making it easy to defend with the bow.

"Heroes kill monsters." Archer pressed the offense, because they both knew that all he needed was once chance.

"Ghhk!" Lancer was having an easy, almost trivial time deflecting Archer's blows. If he wasn't intimately aware of what that spear was capable of, he would have stepped in range to his doom already. Archer didn't need to be that good with it. He could neutralize the cursed thrust with Gae Dearg if he managed to pin the spear down with the tip; however that wasn't likely to happen. He had no intention of turning tail, however.

"Men kill heroes." Archer tossed his bow and the horizontally-aligned Gae Bolg up in the air a couple feet, reached back, projected Kanshou and Bakuya, then flung them at Lancer's legs.

"You taunt me to this extent?" Lancer roared, as he flicked his longer spear's butt up to knock away Gae Bolg and simultaneously deflect the incoming sword into its twin. He barely had time to sputter "What?" as Gae Dearg's tip passed through one of the incoming swords like thin air, banishing it. Unable to follow through to dispel the second blade, he jumped up to avoid the spinning sword and readied himself for what came next-

-as he saw Archer had allowed Gae Bolg to hit the ground beside him and was currently aiming another strange corkscrew-shaped arrow at him.

"Fool! Arrows can't hit-"

"Caladbolg II."

"-me!" He had brought up Gae Buide, but on hearing the name of the 'arrow' on its way he froze mid-thought.

He knows about many Irish legends. He knew that it would be a mutual loss if he had actually closed enough to use Gae Bolg. He baited me into blocking with Gae Buide so I wouldn't realize Gae Dearg would destroy his weapons. He successfully got me into the air, so I cannot dodge. Damn. I should have crouched and deflected the thrown sword, instead of jumping. I'm right where he wants me. And now he fires an arrow based on a sword that pierces defenses?

"Like- " Lancer swung out Gae Buide and intercepted the incoming projectile with its tip. Space at the point of impact warped, but Lancer was out of the intended target zone.

" -I'd- " He then absorbed the force of the blow and let it push his spear forward, and used it as a fulcrum to flip bodily up into the air. However, Caladbolg II lived up to its name, and part of the tip of Gae Buide chipped off. It flew towards Rider and scratched the side of his face.

" -LET YOU!" He competed his spin and threw Gae Dearg at Archer with godlike speed, who lunged to the side and raised his bow, but not fast enough. Archer grunted as the spear gashed his side without affecting or being affected by his armor as he almost got out of the way.

Archer came out of his roll not with bow in hand, but the charged and primed Gae Bolg instead. He hadn't dodged as efficiently has he could have because his intent was to re-equip Gae Bolg and close that precious couple feet of distance; something Lancer could not prevent without his feet on the ground (or a long red spear with which to fend him away). With a beastly grin, he step forward, leaned into it, gripped the spear by its butt, and opened his mouth . . .

"Gae . . ."

Lancer was running out of options. Stupid as an idea as it seemed, he could throw Gae Durg and probably strike Gae Bolg right out of Archer's hand. Sure, he'd be weaponless, but not defenseless; he was sure he was faster. As he raised his arm to throw, everything stopped as his world turned in on itself to the voice of his Master:

"Lancer. Return."

He opened his mouth to protest but then he was already gone. Gae Buide had left his hand, but vanished along with its partner before it could reach Archer.

"-Bolg!" The spear stabbed nothing but air, and left Archer looking quite silly holding it pointed up like that by its butt.

He held that pose for a beat, then the spear disappeared and he recovered his bow and turned back to the Saber and Berserker battle as if nothing had happened. Rider began to speak, but thought better of it and wiped at the trail of blood running down his face.

"Oi. Brat. Wake up and do something about this, will you?" He began to shake his fledgling Master's limp body.

Archer kept an eye on Saber, but she was the furthest thing from his thoughts at the moment. I almost died. He had me dead to rights. He knew it, I knew it. His master didn't know it, though. Ha. Neither did mine, apparently. Next time he might just crush me on sight before giving me a chance to react. He thinks like I do, it seems. Pity he's still constrained by honor. I'll have to trap him in that cage of his own making if I want any chance of beating him. Then again, Saber's crippled at the moment. Kiritsugu will prioritize Lancer. Oh, this will be good.

Berserker's borrowed sword had failed against Saber, and he was back to swinging and flinging whatever was lying around at her. Archer went to intervene but heard a voice in his ear.

"Archer. That's enough for now. Come home."

Archer froze mid-step, then put his hand to his earring.

"What do mean you don't feel like killing Berserker's Master by yourself? You lazy layabout! I have to clean up every single . . . oh, he heard me."

Berserker had broken off from his fight with Saber and vanished. Irisviel cutely poked hear head out from around a corner too see what was happening, and Saber was giving Archer an odd look that even she probably didn't understand. She was breathing heavily, and trying not to show it.

"I won't thank you. That was unnecessary," she huffed.

"Eh, who am I to pass up a damsel in distress?" he shrugged and turned to walk away.

"You churlish- ah." Saber stopped mid-sentence as Archer dematerialized.

She exchanged a glance with Rider, who proceeded to throw back his head and laugh.