AN: Well I'm back. As a few of you asked, I will be listing heroes whose identities I already revealed at the bottom. " ," you'll see. On the subject of Hercules, I went my way because with the boost I gave him, he would be way too op with the Archer line…I mean, he broke out of Fem-Gil's Enkidu chains for crying out loud. The only "saber faces" who are that busty really are Lancer and Nero. "Cross of Death," first off, I forgot to put scene breaks, so that's my fault. But I have just been using descriptions for the most part as I haven't "officially" revealed most of the Servant's identities in the story, so I decided to go with their general descriptions so people who don't know fate that well get surprises, and those who do (or paid attention), would already know. "beyblademaster3198," the Nasuverse in and of itself is try hard, so is Naruto. Plus, you know, adding a sense of CHALLENGE. Also, large Shirou scene at the end; and Uncle WAAAGH asked me to advertise his discord...I'm a member, so if you wanna join, great, if not at least I kept my word. The link at the bottom. Anyways, on with the fic!

Speech

Thought, magical communication

Higher Being (i.e. Demon, Grail, ect) speaking, Berserker Class talking, Scene/POV change

Higher Being thinking

The Grail War Begins Pt 5: The Knight of Betrayal vs the Warlord

Graveyard: At the same time as when the other Servants engaged Hercules and Lancelot

While the other battles raged on, Naruto's final Saber faced down Illya's "tactician." Neither moved a muscle while they observed one an anther. But this state of affairs wouldn't last, judging that she had gotten as good a grasp of her opponent as she could, the silver and red armored warrior charged forward, her blood red sword raised for an overhead slash.

The sword sung through the air, only to impact the halberd between the axe head and the spike. While the knight was very fast, she knew that there was always a possibility of people being faster than her. However she reasonably she expected her sword, a blade that had never failed her, to cut through the weapon in front of her…Though much to her shock it did not.

This surprise unbalanced her enough for the Viking to strike her stomach with an armored knee. This sudden blow pushed her back and unlocked her blade from the halberd. Despite the shock of the moment, she was still a knight, and she managed to deflect the halberd swing her adversary threw at her off to the side.

But that didn't allow her to counter attack. The halberd user was relentless in his attack, not leaving a single gap for her to exploit. While she wasn't pressed beyond her abilities defensively, it was still rather annoying for a knight of her stature to be pushed around by a single foe.

The circumstances of her life left the knight with a dangerous temper, but she was still in control enough to realize when she was being intentionally isolated. The attacks of her foe had led them into the nearby forest, cutting them both off from their allies. This suited her just fine. Let the others fight against the berserkers, a one on one fight would earn her more glory in the eyes of her master.

However, away from their companions, a change seemed to come over the Viking. His blows had been brutally quick and precise, now his pace was easing up a bit, and an almost lupine grin had crossed his once impassive face.

The fight abruptly halted as the "tactician" started laughing: "WAHAHAHA! I haven't had a fight this good since King Hardrada led us into battle against the Turks!" The halberdier's grin became an almost face splitting lupine smile, "Not even when we invaded England in 1066 was it nearly as good a fight as this."

The silver armored knight threw herself forward with a roar, her temper having snapped at the mention of her homeland. Her assault was furious, each blow would easily cleave through the armor worn by her opponent…but it was sloppy. The halberdier easily dodged around the blows, and with a sudden and violent move knocked her helmet off (I am aware that this shouldn't really be possible, but at the same time I did mega boost Ilya's teams stats and Tactician is armed with an anti-armor weapon, a halberd).

No longer shielded the silver horned full face helmet that now lay fifty feet away, thee face of the knight could be seen clearly. It was a face extremely similar to that of the blue dressed swordswoman, that or Queen Arturia Pendragon…but there were noticeable differences, her hair was spikier and wilder for example; some of her teeth almost looked like fangs, a fact revealed by the snarl of anger painted across her face…and her eyes were slightly harsher, though that could be put down to the anger coursing through her.

Her anger was hindering her strikes though, allowing the Viking to lazily dodge and continue to taunt the knight: "So I was right, you're an inhabitant of that island of weaklings. Our army only failed due to the heat making most of our soldiers leaves our armor in our long ships; if it wasn't for that blasted heat your precious island would be speaking Scandinavian...The defenders were THAT weak and pathetic."

A roar of anger ripped from the knight's throat as she attempted to bury her blade in her adversary's gut, only to miss as the warrior sidestepped the thrust. Booming laughter once again escaped the man's throat: "BWAHAHAHA! But then again, what can you expect from Saxon dogs? They lost their teeth long before we invaded again."

At this point the woman's blows were becoming ever more precise in a reversal of earlier…Her rage had ceased to be hot, and now was ice cold and focused. In the back of her mind she idly noted that this might be what it was like to be a berserker class when instructed to focus on a target…but she had more pressing concerns…Like killing the smug bastard who was now on the defensive.

However, her focus cost her, as two spectral wolves appeared out of nowhere and managed to take a small chunk out of her. Biting back a cry of pain, she glared at the northman, who was petting the two wolves. A large smile filled the man's face: "How did you like meeting Unferth and Adræt? These two have been my faithful companions all my life, and continue to follow me even now."

For the first time that fight, the knight spoke, her voice strong and clear despite the pain she was in: "I could have done without having to deal with your muts. No matter, I'll take you down sooner or later you barbarian."

Another booming laugh left the warrior's frame: "BWAHAHAHA! You think you can still best me? That just confirms my suspicion, much to my pleasure. Afterall, it's not often one gets to fight one of England's most famous knights…" Here his voice turned rather sinister: "or I should say INFAMOUS in this case. Isn't that right? MORDRED PENDRAGON, KNIGHT OF BETRAYL!"

She glared as she channeled a bit of her prana into her wound in a healing spell her "mother" taught her: "So what, even if you know who I am; that won't stop me from defeating you."

The Viking nodded: "That may be true, but how long will you last?" That statement triggered another all-out assault against the battered knight. The wolves would screen their master's attacks, or flank when the halberdier went for a particularly vicious blow that had to be blocked or dodged.

It was really starting to wear away at the last of Mordred's nerves. She had managed to get some grazing hits on her adversaries, they weren't as skilled individually as her, but they always managed to protect each other from a fatal blow.

Finally though her anger reach its limit, and prana started to flood towards her blade. After jumping fifty feet away, she settled into a stance to take a mighty swing and began to speak: "CLAREEEENT!"

But she never finished her invocation. The Nordic warrior roared aloud: "Hjertet af faldne stemmer!"

With that declaration, the runes on his helmet flashed, and Mordred's mind was assaulted by visions, causing her to sink to her knees as her sword fell to the forest floor. She saw her dreams of surpassing her "father," of claiming Caliburn and proving her worthiness to rule, come to naught, rejected by the very blade she sought. She saw her "mother," either a servant or arisen from the dead, using her cursed magic to enslave her, forever binding her to the witch's will.

But surprisingly the one that froze her the most, was of her new master, a teen she barely knew, and her new comrades siding with her "father" and her knight to execute the "Knight of Betrayal" to prevent being backstabbed further into the competition. It tore at her mind and heart.

Despite this though, some part of her was subconsciously still fighting, a fact the "tactician" was ignorant of as he approached. A dark chuckle left his lips as he approached: "Well that's one down. After I present your head to my master, maybe she'll let me keep the one in blue as my slave. I'm sure she would be perfect to warm my bed with."

Now, the warrior was obviously unaware of the identity of the woman he had so casually threatened to enslave, otherwise he would probably not have mentioned his lust. Unfortunately though, he did; and as he raised his halberd to deliver the killing blow, he was tackled out of the way by Unferth, just as the blade of the knight came up in a lightning fast slice where his groin once was.

A drop of sweat slowly made its way down the viking's brow as the former knight of the round table stood. No one had ever pushed back the visions his helmet conjured. It was rather concerning, especially considering the clear murder he saw in her eyes. He had no doubt that if she wasn't stopped, he'd soon be dead; but he noted that the woman in blue was a sore spot for Mordred.

Fortunately for him, his master, loathe as the warrior was to grant her the accolade (Illya is not a warrior, nor is she truly proven in combat), had ordered a retreat. Apparently even with his class's talents allowing him to further clear the minds of his two allies, apparently Hercules' noble phantasm had already lost four "lives" and Lancelot had suffered a spear wound that punctured one of his lungs.

As he phased out, he thought on this concerning revelation. Even before he used his class skills to restore their sanity, while still allowing access to their berserker enhanced stats, they were more than a match for most servants separately. But together they should have been unstoppable. This boded poorly for their chances in the future if they fought separately again.

But on the other hand, now they knew what some of their most dangerous foes would be, and they could prepare somewhat for this group…though not completely, as they didn't know ALL their identities. Though he had identified Mordred, one of her fellow knights, and one alternate version of King Arthur…the rest were still a mystery.

Mordred huffed as the halberdier vanished; it was always annoying when her foe escaped. Not only because it meant they would be better prepared for their next engagement, although she didn't use all her abilities as her rage had hindered her, at least not until it was way too late; but it also meant that she lost the opportunity to win honor and glory in the eyes of her master.

Speaking of which, her master came charging through the underbrush with a simple straight sword in hand. An amused smile crossed her face as her helmet reformed around her head; at least her master seemed to have a modicum of concern about her. A slight surprise was when her "Father" and the other servants appeared shortly after, she couldn't really fathom most of their motivations for coming after her.

Her master was about to speak when the ravenette magus "allied" with them came stumbling out of the brush with her servants. A small chuckle left her lips as she watched the female magus try and berate her master, only for him to essentially ignore Rin's ranting in favor of questioning her.

Clearing her throat, Mordred spoke in a level tone: "Unfortunately my opponent escaped. Worse he knows who I am. While this doesn't counterbalance that, I know what his noble phantasms do. His halberd is unbreakable, and seems to allow him to summon spectral wolves; and his helmet has runes on it that allows him to project visions of his target's fears into their head."

To her slight surprise her master wasn't angry: "I'm not too surprised. My adopted elder sister had a good grasp on the situation. With Hercules slowly loosing, and Lancelot suffering a pierced lung, it made more sense to withdraw…"

The "son" of "Arthur" Pendragon had a mental flashback to her time alive, when she was a pawn in the struggle between her "mother," Morgana, and her "father." Sibling conflicts were never pretty. Ones between maguses' were especially deadly to bystanders if they have no morals.

She did note that the black armored swordswoman and her "father" both seemed to flinch when that was mentioned. Coming back to reality, she caught the trail end of her master's reply to something Toshaka had said: "…Yes yes, I know your "pride" that you use as a shield won't let you ally with us that easily, but at the very least your pragmatism should if not our friendship."

Rin sighed in defeat: "Alright Naruto, you got me. We'll ally with you, though we'll have to figure out who gets to make their wish on the Grail when the time comes."

Before the conversation could continue, Sir Gawain broke in: "Might I suggest we retreat to your home, master, or that of our ally? Standing around in the open when Assassins may be lurking is not the wisest of choices."

The two masters readily agreed, much to the not so hidden relief of the servants. After they left the graveyard, a shadowy figure rose from behind one of the tomb stones. A wide grin plastered itself on his face as he spoke: "It looks like this war will be very interesting indeed…I assume you saw that as well, dog of the coven."

A second figure seemed to emerge from a tree, its figure was concealed by a bulky cloak. The being merely nodded, but the first seemed to understand: "Haha, relax, I'm not here to cause troubles yet. I'm merely…stretching my legs. No need to be concerned. Especially as my 'master' hasn't issued instructions to engage in combat tonight…much like I suspect yours have."

A second nod was the reply as the figure melted into the ground. A speculative hum escaped the lips of the first being: "Hm, I suppose you are right. It wouldn't do for us to be discovered by the team here yet." With that observation he to vanished, seemingly into the mist itself, but not fully unobserved. A third figure grunted in annoyance as he saw them vanish; before proceeding to simply walk away to an unknown destination.

CHAPTER COMPLETE!

NEXT TIME: Interlude: Meet your servants

Omake: Shirou Emiya, now Targaereon, had been in this world for over a decade now. It had been interesting rebuilding his blade skills, but rather easy once he got a sword suited to his size; as apparently his origin and nature of Sword carried over to this world. Now at sixteen, he arguably the greatest swordsman no one had heard of.

This had proved helpful in dealing with a few assassins. None of them were from the Baratheons though strangely, mostly Essosi who believed without him it would be easy to claim Daenerys for a slave or wife. A wry smirk crossed the transplanted magus' face, even if that happened, he had trained his sister in the arts of self-defense…More than one would be rapist had found themselves without their dick after she cut them off.

On top of this Shirou had managed to build a reputation as a solo mercenary, and later a commander of men, under the assumed name of Hawkwood. The wealth he made from cities just paying him NOT to fight them enabled him to live a comfortable life and provide for his sister.

Of course not everything was perfect. He had spent the past two years fleeing from one town or city to another, trying to escape a rather persistent Drothraki Princess who was quite insistent on marrying him. This wasn't anything new to him, as in several worlds Zelretch had thrown him into before he had to deal with the same sort of thing.

What was new was that this might be the female version of Kal Drogo, as he had yet to hear of that particular warlord. If that turned out to be true, he was going to have some VERY strong words with his teacher when he returned home about changing worlds for his own amusement.

Beyond that there was a certain debt of honor that had to be repaid. And so the former red head sat upon a horse, clad in featureless black armor, waiting for his turn in the Hand of the King's tourney in the capital of Westeros. The infamous Mountain, the one responsible for the rape and murder of his relatives, was going to be participating according to Prince Oberyn.

This would probably be the only chance he had to kill the bastard shot of a full on invasion. He would have to wait for the melee to kill the massive knight, but the joust would be a good way to rile up the man, as he had a rather infamous temper.

As he watched Ser Jaime Lanister unhorse a knight whose name he hadn't bothered remembering, Shirou thought on the surprise this tournament had sprung on him. Apparently King Robert had a daughter around his age as his eldest…One that, as far as he could tell, was a legitimate one, rather than the incest borne ones of Jaime and Cersi that were passed off as the King's.

She was strikingly beautiful. But he had seen beauties of similar caliber in the other worlds…he wasn't quite sure if Zelretch had been serious back when the blood sucker had commented that he would take whoever he formed a romantic relationship with and bring them to their world…Though knowing the blood sucker, he would if only to entertain himself.

Shaking himself loose of his thoughts, the magus prepared himself for his tilt…Unaware of just how much he would change the series.

List of Revealed Servants:

?: "John of Nottingham," Prince Hector, and Cu Chulaain

Rin: Archer, Sir Gawain, and Assassin

Naruto: Saber, Mordred, "King Arthur," Queen Arturia, Gilgamesh Queen of Heroes, Saber, Saber, Lancer, and Scathach

?: ?, ?, and ?

?: ?, ?, and ?

?: ?, ?, and ?

?, ?, and ?: ?, ?, ?, ?, ?, and ?

Anyways, review please.

Discord link for anyone interested: /2wUPXes