Very well, master he grumped. It was at least something that she said herself. He wasn't sure in the end if it was really something she wanted, but a command was a command, and there was no point in being obstinate in a way that simply discouraged her. Seeing no real reason to refuse he dutifully scooped Janicka into his arms. "If they come our way then we shall simply bar their path. That was our purpose at the bridge in the first place, wasn't it? Then there's little that changes. So long as I am there they shall not harm you nor pass. If the shield of Roma cannot accomplish such a task, then what arm of any other land could?"

With a boisterous roar clearing the way he left for the church. Running alongside the river his charge brought the water to ripple and shift in the wake of his passage, as though it were moving with him. He was no moon that brought the waxing and waning of the tides, nor was he a king who courted faeries who could run across the clear waters. But he felt a relation that made it something that comforted him. It reminded him of the Tiber, of his salvation, and the Holy Father Tiberinus who he prayed to in his mind for his blessing once more. May they defeat the heroes of their foes, and protect the dreams that they sought.

"Although I suppose this means we will meet my other self again. It is not... unpleasant but is truly strange." His voice boomed in his masters mind, dwarfing the rush of the winds. "We servants understand that we are both the people of the past and a record of the legends left in the memories of people both. With a face like this I should know that better than most! Ah, but it is strange. To be confronted with two of one's self is strange indeed..."

Ah, but that made him wonder about you in turn, dear master. Just as seeing the doppleganger that was Saber walk with her sister was strange for him, perhaps it was strange for her to be alone, without her own reflection. The two were obviously different individuals but their connection could not be denied with the evidence of the two Sabers. It was due to the opposite reason, but perhaps she felt the same way too?

@Breo

---

The officer could not help but cock a brow and glance a lopsided grin at the servant's remark of misery. "Is that what you equate me to, Rider? Misery? ... I must have made a terrible first impression." With a shake of his head, he quickly dismissed the topic and instead choose to return to his mage-ly duties of setting up a bounded field - Which, for some reason, involved no flashy spells yet. Irredeemably, the lanky officer just stuck to the trunk of his car and kept rummaging. A tug here, a pull there, he was awfully absorbed in sorting out the equipment for his task and only looked up from the sturdy vehicle's compartments when his ears caught the servant's wistful mumbling. "Love-struck?", he noted in disbelief. After a moment's pause, the man rose from his work and a tinge painful sincerity rolled off his tongue.

"My Rittl, there are no miracles in this world. A thousand times I wished something could be because I simply wished for it, but you'll find that wishes do not come true by themselves." The officer's striking-blue eyes grew distant, as if sifting away in a sea of memories. An uneasy silence settled onto the discussion, graced by nothing but a longing stare into nothingness. Emmerich's stalwart posture gained a statuesque quality, yet the canny Rider could clearly notice what was the quivering hands of a broken man. Only a second was spared by the tall officer to let his mind wander - At the first sign of a twitch, he grew rigid and his figure strained itself into a peaceful state again. The uneasy episode was over as soon as it started. "Apologies. I got lost in ... Thought.", he admitted."Do not wish for what you desire - That only makes its absence ache more. Choose to act for it instead."

Emmerich took the first chance to change the topic. The awkwardness of the situation began to sting his side and so he gracefully leaned back onto the trunk to explain Rider's summoning in an off-handed manner. "If you want to hear the most honest reason why I choose you over seventeen other servants more suitable for my lacking arcane expertise, it's because We believed that you in particular would be the most beneficial to have in this conflict and prove to be efficient in carrying out your duties as Our ... Sturmabteilung, for a lack of better terms." Then the officer clicked his tongue and glanced up half-ways from the trunk, his eye on Rider with a sly glint. The corner of his lips hid a coy, sublime smile. "However, if ... We ... Didn't know better, I might be pressed to say that your master may be very fascinated with tales of your old, bygone era of heroics." The oddly-worded confession resonated with a sense of rediscovered honesty and kindness, as if the pain from moments ago dissipated in the wake of a budding enthusiasm.

The idle chatter was cut short as Emmerich's glance triggered Rider's eager request of action. "No.", he noted in a tight-lipped manner before snatching his binocular and hopping away from the trunk. Immediately, he was fixated on church-wards. "I just had a bad feeling, but I'm sure of it now: They're being teased by the enemy - But I anticipated this happening." With a stalwart finger, the officer gestured toward the horizon while still keeping the device to his eyes. "You see, Rider, a frontline is a precious thing. You can't clearly see it nor can you define it on a map with one-hundred percent certainty - It's an abstract concept of sorts. This is why any commander worth their salt will spend time testing the boundaries of their enemy's." In a broad sweep of his hand from the coastline, over the city and to the church, Emmerich gestured on. "This is our frontline, Rider - And the Japanese are now trying to find out where it would be the easiest to poke holes into it. It is a test of a man's courage: If you attack the right flank of an army and their general sends reinforcements, it means that's where he is afraid - His right flank, my Rittl. I pray that our allies do not fail us by rushing too quickly to help Bauer. We do not want to let them know where we're the weakest, for a fortification is only as strong as its weakest bastion." There was urgency to the lanky officer's speech, his usual coolness and melancholy giving way to a professional haste. "It is for this purpose that I ordered one of the Edelfelt twins to stay in the eastern city - But if more than one master leaves their post, our frontline presence is broken and that would mean that... We must recalculate our angle of attack." A sigh escaped Emmerich's thin lips as he finally gave up on his attempts to spy any happenings from the other side of Shinto. "For now, we remain here. Our opportunity to strike will arise shortly - Lest our lines shatter and we end up separated from the rest of our folks."

D1 - P1

---

So their enemy had decided to antagonize the neutral party in the structure of this war. On the one hand, this yielded opportunity, and on the other instability. The offer was one he'd have to take back to the others, to see how they would go about it. While he did not particularly expect much from Tohsaka, he at least imagined she would have some sort of input. Anything to help get her more invested was good, in his opinion. Even if that something was forcing her into a situation where she had to be invested.

Well, that was a troubling bit of news either way. Saizou's eyes narrowed momentarily before looking away from the church and back to Arianna, nodding. The burning sensation on the back of his hand faded.

"It is a shame that they resorted to such a method. It does speak to the nature of the foe," He says, giving her a slight, polite smile. "I will take this news back to my side, and we will decide what to do from there."

The situation did not look good for his enemy. He had as much been briefed on the situation with the Church-- there was no need to fight over it, because the institution of the Church itself would not take too kindly to being disrespected in such a way. How they would respond is unknown, but it was as much a certainty that they would respond.

For all he knew, they could attempt to shut the whole thing down. It was not an unreasonable position to take, and from what he knew of the Church, they may very well have the means to do so. Concerning, very concerning. He did not want his team getting caught up in that.

He had need of Matou's talents.

"If it were up to me, I would see you returned to your position. That is, ultimately, the ideal situation for all of us, no?" He bowed once again, dipping in a very formal manner. "Be safe, Overseer. I will see what I can do."

With Assassin nearing, he could scout out the Church. Her ability to conceal herself was second to none, and were he in the position of his enemy, he would not leave the church completely unattended in the event of 'capturing' it. A trap at worst, an alarm at least. In the case of the latter, it allowed the current 'owners' to know if their territory was being contested, and gave them the time to rally their forces. If the alarm is never triggered, though...

Maybe something could be done. In the absence of an Overseer, his authority could be used to its full extent. He stood upright once more, corrected his hat with a smile, and awaited his partner.

---

A mistake on her part. She had gotten caught up with the flow of her own speed, the newfound abilities that filled her body, as she moved like the wind. The ritual had already made sure that she was fully capable when it came to these things, but when it came to her mindset, nothing had changed. An occasional tall leap over a treetop to another just to observe the world was not uncommon for her, showing an alarming lack of urgency. In the end however, she was still a Servant, and an Assassin at that. Her whims would only delay her for a few additional seconds, as she finally arrived at the scene in around a minute.

While her sight was not comparable to that of Archer, the naturally enhanced physique of a Servant and the relatively tall areas used for her movement gave her the oppritunity to spot her Master ahead of time. What was this? He was conversing with another woman. Kufufu, how shameless. She was invisible not only to the eye, but to even the most skilled of Servants. It was a given that she could hide herself from any regular human. However, the woman didn't seen to be such an individual. At least, not in her current position. Regardless, her Master hadn't alarmed her of her, and there weren't many humans either who would pose a real threat to her. Hence, she was swiftly ignored as Stheno landed on her grand empty stage to a full audience of one, plus one extra. No, a stage wouldn't be held by someone who was simply eavesdropping. Standing next to her Master, she didn't announce her presence right away, and certainly not through spoken language.

'You seem to have found yourself in an interesting situation young boy. Is that confidence I see in your eyes? Kufufu, having so much faith in a Goddess, your heart is kind.'. Flattery. The one thing she knew best, where each spoken word was truth from the depths of her heart, yet it would never change the feelings or view that she had towards the 'object of affection'. Ah, it was entertaining after all. She didn't reveal her appearance to her Master nor the ex-Overseer. If she did, then she might not have been able to keep her voice down at her splendor. 'It seems like the opposing faction have already made their move. So, what are you going to do Nanaya boy?' Even when her voice was spoken in thoughts, the tone held no lesser essence of sweetness for which to lure with.

'We should act quickly. I'm eagerly awaiting your first order Master. Ah, but you prefer partner right? How grand! I apologize, so what are your orders partner?' Her teasing saw no real end in sight, an onslaught of bait and switches for the sole purpose of innocently fishing out the reaction that would appeal to her the most.

The Executor bows her head for a moment, with something like a smile on it. It says something about their enemy, maybe, but nothing surprising. And, as far as Arianna is concerned, nothing that the Japanese wouldn't have done, either. When it comes down to it, the only difference she considers is willingness to execute. The Nazis executed, and, for the moment, have secured what is a real advantage.

It just won't translate into an advantage for long. "Yes. Once I have my Church, people have somewhere to turn to again. This isn't supposed to be a war between the Masters - ideally, none of you will die." That is the ideal, of course, of the Overseer of the Holy Grail War. The ideal of Arianna Lombardi is closer to, 'every single one of them will die', but that's just the conflict between Executor and Overseer. Normally, Magus are... acceptable. Tolerable. She doesn't exactly like them, but it would be insane to try to kill every single Magus that exists. Executors are only used for extreme special cases. People who are more monsters than men. As far as she's concerned, the mere act of committing war and violence with Heroic Spirits, while in a populated city, qualifies them for extermination. This happening at all is absurd. It would be one thing if it were done somewhere isolated, but a city? The risks to the common people aren't acceptable.

Regardless of that, she shrugs, and adjusts her bags. "Yes, well. I'm going to hole up in a hotel on this side of town until this blows over. Keep me posted, if you would, so I can get back to work." And, with that, she turns back around, to head up the road. The further she gets from what's sure to, eventually, be a battleground, the better. She wants both sides to feel unrestricted by the presence of the Overseer nearby. Removing her presence removes the implication that they're culpable for any acts of war they commit here. Without an Overseer, anything goes, and that kind of brutality is exactly what Arianna Lombardi wants.

“Ah, I didn’t mean to offend you at all, sorry, sorry,” Rider’s answer was delivered with an odd mix of sheepishness and amusement, perhaps at the situation. After all, to be able to laugh at others, one should also learn to laugh at their own blunders. “It’s just, y’know, how the expression goes, and I really don’t like standing around, no offense. Perhaps if you had summoned the me of a different time, maybe it’d have been more bearable for him but. . .” His rambling, akin to a stream of consciousness, continued on for a bit before he trailed off again. Perhaps someone who was listening, rather than merely hearing, would notice his odd habit in terms of speech – one moment, the man was attempting to sound educated and dignified, whereas the next he would break the façade and slip into rougher patterns, and back again, as if he was sometimes unsure about the proper way to conduct himself.

As his Master continued his explanation, however, the Servant remained quiet, soaking in the explanation, as well as the man’s reaction to his slip. For a few seconds, he let a comfortable silence stretch between both of them before breaking it once more, talking with the same upbeat tone he had carried until then—though there was something else to it this time, a hint of the same wistfulness.

“So, you liked my tale? Well, I suppose that is also a good reason—and I think it might speak well about its continuation into modern times, honestly,” He let out a small chuckle at the thought, finding the conversation to be a rather comfortable one. “Well, do not worry, for you have summoned quite the spirit to show you those bygone heroics you spoke about, and I hope I will not disappoint.” He would admit that he was getting enthusiastic himself. Perhaps, however, he should also address some of what his Master had apparently found odd.

“That said, Master, were you honestly surprised about my outburst?” He asked. It was rather easy to tell that, had he been corporeal, he would have been smiling. “Did you perhaps think that legendary heroes and love do not mix? Considering my own tale, and those of various others, one would think you’d have been disabused of that notion long ago, if you are so fascinated by it.” The words carried no bite, merely what Sigurd considered to be a small ribbing in good fun.

Perhaps it was the relaxation, perhaps it was the boredom getting to him, perhaps he was simply one of those fellows that wore such emotions on their sleeve, he seemed rather comfortable as he addressed the man and told him about that flame in his heart.

“I think love at first sight defined it pretty well. Or maybe that was just lust at first,” He chuckled, reminiscing of a time long past, a time when things had been so easy and so clear, only for it to end so abruptly. “You could bring me a thousand women from all corners of the world, none would have been more beautiful than the one I set my eyes upon that day, and I guarantee you, none would even approach her in either prowess or fierceness. She was. . .a goddess. An ideal. Perhaps others would say I exaggerate, but. . .at the very least, that is how I saw her. And then, I got to know her.”

He lost himself in memories of happier times.

“Idyllic, really, but all good things come to an end. She warned me, I did not listen. I left on yet more adventures, arrived at that court and drank the potion, and then those moments were lost, and Gudrun became my wife,” By the looks of it, he seemed to carry no grudge towards her—if anything, he sounded exasperated with himself, rather than anyone else. “She was a fine woman, and I’m sure she could have been very happy but I. . .never really saw her that way, much to her disappointment. She was dear to me, but not like that. And then the tale continued,” The emotions carried by his words had yet to slip into anger or any other that would be expected, considering the event he was surely talking about. If anything, he seemed more resigned about it than anything. “Gunnar asked me to take his place, I agreed, and the rest is history. But you know, Master? While before I saw her I just felt that the ruse left a bad taste in my mouth and was an insult to her dignity. . .I was never so tempted to betray my Lord and the vows I had exchanged as when I saw her face for what felt like the first time.”

But he had not. He could not. And that was that—he had made his choice, and so, he had had to live with it.

“Our tale was always destined to end in tragedy, thrice-damned potion or not, I suppose,” His words now were no longer directed towards the soldier that kept him company, but perhaps they were more of a simple declaration. “A Valkyrie loving the very Hero she should carry to Valhalla? Madness. Yet, at the same time. . .even if I had died in her embrace a thousand times, I would have never considered it an unfair price for what she gave me,” It was corny, childish and altogether a foolish notion—for who would be so steadfast in their love towards their own killer, who would consider their life to be so small a price? However, apparently nobody had ever bothered to tell Sigurd that he had to adhere by the standards of common sense. “And yet, as my life was ended, I did not even know. I had forgotten, and that potion was the culprit.” And there was the anger, though perhaps the object of it was different than what some people would have guessed. He sounded enraged, certainly, but apparently that anger burned not towards those who had made him drink the potion, nor towards the woman that had killed him. But rather, towards himself.

“I could not tell her, Master. And that is the one thing I carry on my shoulders, why I wish to see her once more. To say now what I could not say before. I pride myself in not having any regrets, and surely, if it were just for my sake, I would not feel like so. . .but it is also for hers, Master. To answer her honestly like she deserves.”

He let the silence stretch on for a bit after he had spoken the last word, solemnity taking over wistfulness and washing away the anger. Perhaps there was also a touch of sorrow in his tone, but he apparently attempted to not allow it to get to him. Regardless, he was soon brought out of his musings by the news of what Brauer and his own Servant, as well as his Master’s own analysis of the situation. While he was indeed disgruntled about the fact that they would not interfere—his standard persona quickly overriding the side he had shown moments prior, as though it had been a dream—he understood his Master’s reasoning and, for better or worse, he was a loyal man, even if he disliked the orders.

“Understood,” He answered. “If we are to remain here, then, I will continue guarding while you set up the Bounded Field—might as well make this a worthwhile investment of our time if we are not joining in on the fun. Though,” Once again, judging by his tone, one could not help but feel that his expression, had he been corporeal, would have been a crooked smile. “Do not begrudge me if I kind of want someone to come crashing against us at some point, Master. I do want to stretch my legs.”

D1 - P1

---

With the Overseer gone, he was left now with his Servant. Her words were difficult to ignore, like he would do with any other person. It was part of her nature, and who she was. Her words were ambrosia to men, and no matter how detached he may be, there were some things he simply could not remove himself from. Difficult to ignore, but not impossible. With some applied focus, he allowed her words to roll over him, the flattery falling flat. Such a troublesome partner. 'It is not faith in a Goddess I have, Assassin,' He communicated to her through their bond. 'It is faith in you, Assassin. While you are a divinity, that is not why I am confident in your abilities,'

He also doubted the claim of having a supposedly good heart, but he would let her think that. What kind of heart did he have, Saizou wondered? Thoughts for another time. 'Thank you for your kind words.'

Saizou looked to the Church once more, folding his hands behind his back, the slightest smile on his face. On the one hand, the natural talents of Assassin against men were troublesome, but he appreciated her rather relaxed nature nonetheless. It was something he had lacked in his life, even during his 'vacation' in Wuhan. The people were dour and serious, and he was no better. It was refreshing.

'I feel a Bounded Field forming around the Church. Our enemy is still inside, preparing. Assassin, your first order: Scout the premises, find out which foe we are dealing with. If that cannot be done, then simply find the fulcrum point of this bounded field, and destroy it. In the meanwhile, I will return to the temple.'

He turned on his heel, and took his first step. He paused. 'Try not to get attacked, Assassin,' He said, throwing her own words back at her, although without a hint of jest even if it was clearly meant in a lighthearted manner. 'I do not wish for my partner to be put in unnecessary danger, after all. If you feel you are in danger, then retreat. There is no shame in it. See you soon.'

And with that, he continued, making his way back to the temple. He adjusted his hat.

@Breo

---

Ever so silent as he worked, the officer listened and nodded along distractedly, he only looked up once Rider shot him an query."Honestly surprised? Yes, I expected you to be more silent about it.", Emmerich admitted with bluntness as Rider asked - And with that, he returned to meddling with magecraft and technology while Rider sunk into his long-winded reminiscence of his troubled love-life. Again all his responses were simplified into grunts of approval and nodding, but eventually the tall man raised his head. Awkwardly, he watched and listened hunched over and still halfways inside the car's interior. The first-hand accounts of such a legendary story captured his attention and soon the poorly clad officer was leaning against the unmarked vehicle with a cigarette hanging from his lips and his arms crossed. He did not appear particularly drawn in by the tale, but the glint in his blue eyes fixated on where Rider would be spoke of different things. By the end, he only muttered a note of interest. "I... Did not expect you to be so human. For something that I considered an otherworldy being, you are unexpectedly relatable - Which is truly heartening, to be frank." With that, he cracked a smile he soon subdued.

"Nothing will be crashing against us, Rider. On the contrary - It is You who shall do the crashing.", Emmerich explained meticulously. "As I have said, I've foreseen a defeat at the Church. If we lose the sector then it is a loss I've accounted for; It slams the trap on the Jap' shut." The officer scrambled for something in the trunk of the car. It did not take long until he retrieved a squared piece of paper that looked awfully fresh and new in comparison to everything else stored within the vehicle. With a gesture of his index finger and a quick spring to his step, he hailed Rider over as he opened the document on the hood of the car: A map.

"Initially we were meant to spearhead an offensive that would swipe away anything 'till it reaches the academy west of us - It's a simple trick from the old book, my Rittl. One advance team moves ahead to secure and scout out the target location whilst the frontline steadily closes up behind them." The markings of the map, wild scribblings of black and red, were easy to follow despite the many other alternative markings already crossed out beside them. The lanky officer traced his hand over the right side of the paper, severing what would be Shinto in half vertically. "We're always in arm's reach of each other, should an attack occur. We can always expect another team to be able to help us in any situation and all our sides are protected by either our allies or a natural obstacle, assuming that the enemy has no naval capabilities that is. However...", he said as he exasperatedly tapped his gold-bearing ring finger against a crucifix drawn on the document. "The Church has caused me a bit of a head ache. It is neutral grounds, we do not want to be careless by annexing it. So should the enemy show up, which I believe he might already have, and should this enemy foolishly pursue Bauer Herstelle..." He paused. A moment of uncertainty sunk into Emmerich before he continued, reassuring himself. "Yes, if they stay around the church for too long, we may encircle them, separate them and individually eliminate them. We, Rider, are the lid that will close off this encirclement if the chance arises: An ample chance to show off your heroics, if I may suggest.", came his steadfast conclusion as the enthusiasm grew palpable in his speech. "We shall skewer them most mercilessly."

The rush of winds seemed a cruel and teasing crowd of ghastly voices as they left behind the church. The eyes of Archer eyed the two human figures that shrunk as though they were becoming ants as he moved with his master in hand. Their enemies, both. After all, after this night it would be foolish to consider the overseer as a completely neutral party. Even if on paper if she were to return and reinstate her authority as a third-party there would be biases that could slip in. Archer pondered whether he should fire, whether he should draw out the enemy servant with an attack. No matter how blessed or strong an opposing master might be to forgo the protection of their own servant when under the attack of an Archer would be the height of hubris, a response that he should never be the case. Yet there was a class whose logic was either abnormal or completely lacking in the first place, Berserker. A Berserker may ignore the command of their master, chasing only to slay Archer.

Against one of the other knights or Berserker, Archer wasn't sure how well he would be able to fight, fending off a foe and defending his master. They would no doubt fight soon, the battle would begin. If that was the case then being on the offensive, attacking and attacking so he didn't have to defend was best.

One of the Sabers was on the way but their arrival would only come after enough time for a battle between servants to start and conclude has passed. His master had given him permission to strike if it seemed worth it... but.

Arrow and bow in hand, but not yet drawn and taken tangible shape with intent due to his own deliberation he pondered. Should he wait, or strike?

---

Stheno doesn't give the ex-Overseer a second thought as she leaves the scene, her mental conversation with her Master continuing uninterrupted throughout aside from the visual charade on display from him in order to not show the awareness of her presence. It wasn't an odd thing for her really. All of her life, it had been men who entertained her with their actions. Considering the place she found herself in now, it was only natural for her to expect him to be a source of such things as well. Praising her was simply a given, Stheno being unphased by any and all compliments, but she still found an endearing side to the modern idea of chivalry compared to her own.

'Very well, Stheno accepts your gratitude.' She left the matter at that, as she disliked being a 'second thought', and it was a matter of fact that the boy had his mind and eyes on something other than herself. Namely, the objective. 'If I need to retreat, then I fully expect a victory from your hands at a later time. As you have faith in me, I will have faith in you, Partner. Fufu...'

How it did annoy her to be out of sight, every bit of energy spent on a light endearing laughter or smile being yet another waste. With those words, she departed from the scene, leaving it but a momentary blur before her eyes captured the route up ahead. The speed of a Servant was formidable, moving across impossible distances in but seconds. Just like her Master had said, she could already sense the presence of another Servant. It didn't deter her, after all, she would have to face one eventually. Perhaps it was because of her own personal inexperience with battle, having served only as an observer to many without any act of participation. Despite what the reason may be, she didn't leave any hesitation for her mind as she came closer to the Church.

The path she had taken towards it was mostly straight, but once she could see the holy grounds, even she exercised a sense of caution. Compared to other Servants, she wasn't nearly as hardy, and more prone to many types of risks. At the very least, she didn't have Caster to worry about, so whatever was set up wouldn't be a direct cause of loss. Sensory fields and such were uneffective to the Goddess who might as well have been non-existant for all that the perception on these humans boasted.

She was quick to notice the decay around the area, a lifeless mess that had been broken down to the tiniest of coal-based fragments as if the many years needed for their bodies to degrade had been accelerated to but seconds of the consious mind. A grotesque thing indeed, but she found it difficult to be disgusted over such actions. After all, 'bugs' taking the lives of other bugs to sustain themselves was the proper order of things.

A brief period was dedicated to simply looking at it from different angles, circling the Church without the worry of being noticed herself. After that, she was to focus her attention on any sign of 'life' whether Servant or Human. If it was the latter, then she may be able to score an early victory in this battle.

She came to an immediate stop. Ah, what a mistake! Anything that materialized within the premises was subject to her gaze, and the 'weapon' was no different. The mental link with her Master transferred the single line. 'Archer is on the grounds.'

D1 - P1

---

Saizou was no chef, but he could cook. Only children couldn't look after themselves, after all. It wasn't a skill, as much as it was a bare minimum requirement for adulthood, even in the Nanaya household.

Maybe in another life, he could have become a chef.

'Archer? How strange...' Saizou furrowed his brow as he walked, giving a passing couple a polite nod. 'I hear confidence, Assassin. I suppose your kind does desire to be used, ultimately,'

How to proceed with this? How could he make this into a workable recipe?

Were he in Assassin's position, so close to the enemy and their throat, he would have struck. It was how he was raised to think-- the faster your quarry was disposed of, the better. His position, though, had granted him the ability to see beyond the instant before the killing. Utilizing Assassin now was not without its risk, due to certain parameters he was obliged to follow. Failure could result in the loss of Assassin, and the chance for failure was higher because of their restrictions.

But to simply retreat gave them nothing other than continued anonymity. Success gave them many advantages-- even more than whatever their foe hoped to gain by annexing neutral ground. And also...

'Ah, this is selfish of me. Engage as you see fit, Assassin, but hold back on your Noble Phantasm-- not before you have seen theirs,' A simple restriction, but one which could mean death. 'If you could keep the Master alive, I would appreciate it. You would get your tithe of blood, should you wish it.'

Was this a necessary risk? He could not say in the moment. He had a mission, and the instructions were clear, but he hesitated in forcing restrictions onto Assassin-- or any of the individuals he worked with-- because of them. It seemed inane, really. Without restriction, they could best employ Assassin and the others from the get-go.

But orders were orders.

'I will see you safely out, should the situation become too dangerous and heated. Are you not fortunate that your partner is less stingy than a regular magus?' It was delivered flat, but once again, it was quite clearly in jest. Dry humour was his kind of humour, apparently.

'Kill them, Assassin. Show me that my faith is not misplaced, and that our confidence is deserved.'

The image hit him hard. Standing above the bodies of the fallen in China, surrounded by a different kind of demon. It mattered not what sort of demon he was faced with, they would all die the same. These Germans were no different.

There was a primal satisfaction to it all that he could not deny. Such was the curse of the Nanaya.

'Kill them, Stheno.'

"...We'll meet up with the Finn and her pet cat."

The answer he came to was the result of a deliberation that had begun ever since he felt the presence of another master. To simply abandon this point so soon after they had made such a transgression and risk to attain it was maddening. The burning sensation seemed to spread beyond the limits of his mind and sear at his sides. Brauer was tense, body tightening up and heart pounding in loud thuds in anger and shame.

To run away like this was admitting fear of the enemy. To run away like this was to show a presumed lack of confidence in their ability to contest the area against an enemy.

But he had already called for aid. If they fought now then it was unlikely for their ally to arrive in a time-table that was relevant to turning the tide between a battle of servants. The act of pulling them away from Shinto would be for naught, pointless, just as pointless as their attempt to take the church and subsequent withdrawal. To die and lose a master and servant was the greatest failure of all, all the more so if he disrupted their plans and still fell.

"We're leaving. Take us out, Archer."

They would return, and even if it were to trade hands again and again he would make sure that it would end as their stronghold by the end.



There was no sighting of the master, none that they could note, nor was there an approach to the church, no challenge offered. There was not a single presence that could be seen or felt by Archer. Were they too waiting? plunged into a hidden face-off, waiting for the other to make their move? Archer could not initiate the fight without a target. Nor could he easily fend off an assault that dives toward them. With the weight of a master in this situation he could not fight a powerful servant that held no such restraints. To fight another servant was one thing, to fight while keeping his master away from the foe was another.

The enemy likely knew of their presence to some degree due to their escape from the Church. It was naive, foolish to assume that the enemy was not watching the place at this point.

Would they give chase? If so there was still the weight of his master, but they would have a direction to move towards, an ally that comes closer by each second, separated by a distance that diminished every single time Archer made his way forward. It would still be risky but such a situation would much more easily be turned about by the arrival of one of the Edelfelts and Sabers.

"Very well, master." Archer acknowledged and accepted the command of his master before leaving the grounds of the church, Brauer in tow.

D1 - P2

---

“... It was quite uneventful was it not?" Posing the question to not only her servant, but to those who would be arriving, Uva had a smile on her face as she had already finished her work and thus was now just waiting. Part of the day had already passed yet nothing had happened. A very... Odd first day for the way. Atleast that was from her end. The temple truly had been kind of boring, but she preferred that to the idea of the fight suddenly starting without warning.

She somewhat wanted to give off the impression that she knew they'd make it here as she posed the question. That being said if she screwed up her timing it wasn't too big a loss. Uva did want to talk with her servant more as well, so as long as she was still there the line should work out just fine.

“Mayhaps we should do something to pass the time? Such as a small game." The girl had relaxed enough that she was no longer worried about being alert, as her servant probably was and she could maintain her focus on her surroundings even while doing something that seemed extremely pointless during the war. "Or share findings if there were any..."

If anything she was actually just a little starved for some conversation. While she could deal with the silence and lack of people, having them around did bring up an urge to make conversation in her. And she'd already learned ignoring her urges all the time isn't always the way to go.

@Breo

---

It was not easy to book a room in a country ever so xenophobic, but Emmerich thought nothing of it. It'd be hypocritical to judge the Japanese for being wary of outsiders when his own people were currently rounding up folk of questionable loyalty. This was perfectly normal behaviour for a culture so savvy of its ethnic composition - As a successful nation should be. The lanky officer did not risk abusing the arcane to get his way with the racist clerks nor did he even take offense at being escorted out. His magics needn't be so selfishly squandered on meager things such as this. If anything, he thought, this was a fine chance to survey the city's unique landscape personally.

To this end, the german officer donned a dress fit for public appearance. No longer did he only go around in rolled-up shirts and suspenders - The jackboots, however, stuck around. Its hobnails made a particular demand of Emmerich's gait to prevent slipping on flat pavement, granting the man a rigid albeit quite graceful and soldierly walk. Tucked into the gallant black footwear were his grey, ironed pants that begged the question how a person on the move actually irons his trousers without seemingly any purpose-tools at his disposal. Whilst the lanky officer did not bring along his hat for this stroll, everything else was in order: Brown shirt, black tie and a black tunic with white piping on the shoulders and four pockets on the front. However, the patches all over the outfit were blank. Only one article of clothing gave away Emmerich's allegiance. Above his waist, a black belt wore a square buckle with a subtle falcon and swastika, sporting the iconic text that all Schutzstaffel troops swore by - "Meine Ehre heißt Treue."

It wasn't long until he finally managed to find refuge in a hotel room from the bustling of Western Fuyuki. A comfortable beige room with a pair of single beds, a bathroom, a workspace and a phonograph that soon creaked to life with the officer's favourite German tunes smuggled into the establishment by his suitcase. Soon with tunic hanged and boots off his feet, Emmerich was already busy with some manner of paperwork on his newfound desk, once again donning a more work-oriented appearance with rolled-up shirt sleeves. With pen in hand, he mumbled a series of numbers absentmindedly. "One hundred more... I can't fit one hundred more in there!", he grumbled as he penned his calculations and awaited his lunch.

D1 - P2

@Ijoyen @Liu Mei @MeteorD

---

Well, that had been less climactic than he had hoped. His order stood-- Assassin would kill, just not then and there. The numbers were just not in their favour, and he would not disrespect the capabilities of their foe. So rather than fight, he simply went to the market and then returned to their base of operations. It was a lovely morning. The people of the city were upbeat, even in the shadow of a burgeoning Holy Grail War.

The Temple's immense amount of steps were actually quite forgiving, compared to some of the other temples around the country. If it was sheerer, and the steps larger, it might have been a bother. As it stood, his morning had been pleasant! Scouted out their enemy, rapport with the Observer, and some good news to bring back to the camp, on top of some ingredients. He wasn't the best cook, but by what was good he would try. These Servants were guests to his country, and he would not be a poor host.

Frankly, the fact he had left it so long was disrespectful enough, but he was the lax sort when it came to pleasantries... by the standards of his family, at least.

'I am sorry, Assassin. My feelings swelled, and I made a rather brash order when it was not time. It was foolish of me,' He admitted through their connection, letting out a sigh. 'It was a failure on my part, but I will make amends.'

He took his role very seriously. Being the best partner to Assassin as he possibly could be was part of his role, and his shameful display with the order to kill was not part of that. Luckily, that had not gone ahead.

Enough of the past. He had to focus on the present.

Reaching the gates, he gave the present duo a bow. "Ms. Einzbern, Lancer," He greeted, standing back up straight. With a bag in hand, he reached up to adjust his hat a little. "A quiet morning is for the best. I was eager to start things off, but there has been a development, one which will work in our favour."

He took a step closer to the two, a slight and polite smile gracing his features. Unsurprisingly, smiling did not come naturally to him, but it was something he had learned over the past few months. Apparently, people liked smiles. He wasn't even sure if anyone back home knew what a smile was, now that he thought about it. It wasn't really something the Nanaya did in their best moods.

"But we can talk about that later. You are both guests to this country, no?" He raised the other hand, also occupied with a bag. The paper in both bags seemed strained like they could rip open at any moment. Efficient shopping wasn't one of the things he was trained in. "I would be doing my nation is a disservice if I did not make food for you at least once. We can talk while eating."

It was only the first day. They still had a moment of peace. While he did not require it, he could not be certain of the others. Tohsaka was his main concern, in that regard. Matou was aged, an experienced man, and he frankly could not get a read on Einzbern. She was... strange. Pure in a way he was not quite used to.

Then again, maybe he just wanted an excuse to cook.

A noncommittal noise originated from the back of the Servant’s throat as he peeked through the curtains, crimson eyes looking down at the people carrying out their lives below. This was certainly livelier than the fields and, even if he still found himself restless, at least he could somewhat remedy it, pacing about the room in physical form while it was only himself and his Master there.

His appearance alone would likely draw too many looks, ashen hair, great stature and tan skin already marking him as an oddity even if he were to bother with attire fitting to the times, so it was better if they simply did not bother and he stuck to remaining non-corporeal—and he endeavored to enjoy the small freedoms for as long as they lasted. Still, as much of a problem as it would be, he could not help but wonder what would happen if the current scene in the room—a man working through some paperwork while a lumbering giant, by the standards of this country anyway, paced in the background looking ready for war—were to be witnessed by any worker at the hotel that had the misfortune of opening the door without knocking first. Surreal was certainly a word to describe it.

His footsteps were heavy, though not devoid of grace, and he limited himself to listen to the curious tunes his Master seemed to be fond of while waiting for something to happen. Considering that at least one of their three allies had already made contact with the enemy, he wondered when would it be their turn, shamelessly admitting that he was someone who enjoyed trading sword swings more than he should. Speaking of. . .

His gargantuan blade was not slung across his back this time, having left it propped against the wall while he was allowed to stretch his legs. Sitting down on the edge of one of the two single beds, head supported by his right hand, he stole a glance towards the thing and realized that, even after all the years that had passed, the faint feeling of revulsion had not gone away. Smiling mirthlessly, something that did not quite reach his eyes, he wondered how his father would react if he saw what had become of his prized sword at his own child’s behest. Not that he could do much else when the only thing he had been left were the fragments, anyway.

Still. . .it was not a particularly nice sight, no matter how much power had been built through those actions.

Ah, this was bad. He had thought the ability to move and feel, interacting with the normal world, would be enough to tame his boredom, but he could only do it for so long before he fell prey to his greatest enemy once again. So.

“What’s it you’re muttering, Master?” He asked the question as he picked out some random magazine the staff had left and started to flick through the pages. “A hundred what?”

How precious little he had to do, and while the songs were not necessarily bad, he could not find it in himself to be entertained by music alone. Perhaps he simply lacked the refined tastes of others. Humming to himself, he wondered what he could do to remedy this. . .

“By the way,” A smile grew on his face as a thought appeared. “How much of whatever currency they use around here do we possess, Master? Maybe it might not be too late to try and find out what passes for ale around here.” There was nothing quite as effective to get to know each other as a good tankard accompanied by decent food, and if he could grade whatever alcohol they had around here in the interests of furthering his knowledge, all the better.

Hopefully they would at least have the strong stuff. There was nothing quite as irritating as weak swill that did not even tickle the throat.

@Angry Hungarian

@Art of Fun @Ijoyen @Liu Mei

---

The encounter had ended in their favor, but the outcome was nonetheless disappointing. An immediate evacuation from the enemy, and the territory reclaimed for the Church. The truth was, she had desired to give pursuit. No, that's wrong. She had desired for them to stay in place, and lose their lives in a way that left them unknowing of their own passing until the very last moment. To be the one who carried out the murder, rather than the one ordering it. An empty taste hung in her mouth longing for what she had been promised by their presence, yet aware that in this world, she was but a Servant. She would never lower herself from the seat of Goddess, but she was not foolish enough to not consider the circumstances of her actions. They had gained an upper hand, a leverage for future battles to eventually claim victory, and that was enough.

Stheno was one who always carried a sense of elegance in her steps, a warm expression that perfectly hid the cold interior of her mind. She had made her way up the long stairs besides her Master without revealing her bitterness to him. Still, it seemed like her masked feelings were revealed in some manner, or perhaps the boy was simply too prideful over his work to accept mistakes. Though he was not so lucky as to guess the source of her bitterness directly. Rather the contrary, he felt guilt over the moment of weakness that had revealed his inner urges.

'It is of no great matter. I have seen many lose their lives to one poor decision, be proud you did not send me to die in such an untimely fashion.' Easily mistakened for a mentor-like response, she proved shortly thereafter that it was no such thing. 'Still, the order was curious indeed. I myself was moments away from executing it in full. Perhaps our interest intervene more than I had initially believed.' Her voice trailed curiously forward as her unseen form accompanied him up to the gate. She did not blame him for his actions, and instead blamed their opposition for fleeing. The order had been given through passion, the escape through cowardice. In this grand play set up for her to be an actress in, such a thing was unforgiveable. 'Ah, Lancer is approaching.'

She gave distance away from her Master and his conversation with those who came to greet him, at least granting the mysterious Einzbern Servant the benefit of the doubt in her abilities of perception. Stheno was untraceable in this form, but with Heroes, the impossible even in menial tasks were never a full assurance. When Saizou took to entering the premises deeper, she remained after him in the shadows, until his proposition.

'If you are to cook, then I must appraise the value of such a meal. Would it be appropriate for me to reveal my form to these?' She was not usually one to ask, but in the location there were likely to be at least 2 other Servant pairs. Even if she didn't see this conflict as serious, she was not yet at the point where she had grown bored enough to wish for her own departure. 'And make something savory. I have high expectations.'

@Breo

---

No notice of the situation's abnormality came from the occupied german officer. Instead, he merely leant over the ever-troublesome sheet of paper that he scribbled onto whenever a whim seemingly took him. "My Rittl, what's one hundred divided by seventeen? ... Actually, nevermind. That'd be silly.", came his voice gently as if he was afraid of scaring the phonograph silent. So gentle and quiet it was that one could very easily miss it, the question barely above a tender whisper. As a groan escaped his lips, Emmerich choose to be tilted backwards with the charmingly-simple mahogany chair beneath him. No longer was he slouched over a dark desk - His blue eyes fixated on the cheap device that croaked to life with the vinyl within its grasp. A moment of silence and anticipation took place as one cheerful song came to an end only to be taken over by the sound of a choir, brasswind and accordion. The happy yet foreboding music quickly filled the room, sparking a coy joy in the lanky man's heart. His lips parted with a half-smile and a fake laugh made way from within.

"Ha, ha-ha-ha-ha~!"

He made no attempt to make it sound genuine. In fact, it was almost as if the voice was meant for singing, rather than actually expressing a spontaneous emotion. With a content sigh, he finally unwound - Thoughts wandered to the far west, into the heartland of modern civilization. To those beautiful years of prosperity after decades of inhumane shame and poverty. Reminiscing and homesickness took over Emmerich, his mind's eye basking in the sights of his homeland, his wonderful strawberry blonde wife and the five children with whom he was blessed. The frustrations from difficult obligations to the Fatherland were soon washed away as the german officer was no longer on a dangerous mission to the orient but in the warm grasp of a loving Erika. Memories of hardship and success blotted out the music - Oddly enough, the tune that the phonograph creaked seemed to repeat many times now. Every time the music stopped, the same piece came back on again with a different composition of instruments and alien languages occupying the choir's ranks. With his pen dropped by the mess of sheets, the lanky man swung on his chair's hind legs before his eyes lulled open again. "Oh!", he exclaimed as a familiar yet strange tone rose from the depths of the device. "You should be able to understand this one, Rider - It's the Nordic variant!"

Sure enough, the song repeated in every single one of the nordic languages over time but Emmerich didn't bother to look over his shoulder. He didn't need to turn his face to Rider to let the Servant know of his enthusiasm. Hearty men sung a tale of the past, of brave "Hirdmenn" that raided the heathen nations with strength and pride unparalleled to accompany their finesse with blade and longboat - Now the sons and daughters of these great warriors have been issued summons once again, sang the choir, to again fight and plunder for their people's glory as they don the fighter's garb of a new era! There was triumph to be had in this world of modernity, triumph like in the era of bygone heroics, and no great descendant of norsemen would ever leave their ancestral call unanswered to fight again.

It took Emmerich a moment to realize that Rider addressed him with a question."Ah, you see - I am in charge of a concentration camp at home.", he explained with pride as he leaned onto the back of the chair to turn at his Servant. "Conflict is on the horizon as the neighbouring countries grow jealous of our prosperity. Along with this, a series of... Unsavory events have left a doubt in German hearts about trust towards their fellow citizens. 'Der Ewige Jude' has left a great seed of misconduct and malevolence in our Fatherland. To prevent another civil war by them like a couple decades ago, we have chosen to contain them until the end of our current conflict due to their very dubious loyalties. Not all of them are evil, but unfortunately we lack the means to separate the genuine ones from the ones who sponsor miscegenation and child prostitution - So we round them up into these camps to keep them under check." The officer's right hand twisted about as he snatched his black pen only to knock it's blunt end against the sheets on the desk. "I can not abandon my duties even if I'm not home. I got a message not too long ago that High Command wishes to transfer one hundred new prisoners into my custody. Unfortunately I do not have the means to comfortably house them as my camp is at full capacity, so they'll have to be shipped elsewhere... Maybe they'll get lucky and be moved to Auschwitz.", he chuckled with delight. "The concentration camp over there is more like a resort than a prison, to be honest - They even got swimming pools! God, I'm envious of the staff over there. I've even been trying to arrange a football match between our sportsmen prisoners and their's, you know! I heard their Cell Block D kicks mean rubber, if you catch my drift."

However, with the noise of his throat cleared, the babbling german officer quickly ceased his story. "But that's a thing to worry about when I get home. For now, it's logistics and wars for us, my Rittl." Just as he was about to return to his calculations, Emmerich immediately turned about to face Rider again as he asked of drinks. "I'm afraid I got good news and bad news, my Rittl. As I have come to discover, Japanese brewing's top achievement is lukewarm rice-distillate. On the bright side, I thought of this before we left Germany - I've got a couple bottles of my family brewery's products stocked in the trunk of my ride, if you'd be so kind as to bring them upstairs for us. I've already ordered lunch to be prepared in the cookery downstairs, but I am afraid of what these orientals may consider food, so we might as well harden ourselves with some liquor before we are fed pickled fish eyes with rice stew."

For once, the officer's bright mood seemed to shine through his gloomy exterior. A true happiness gleamed from his blue eyes as his scarred face churned with a smile dedicated for honest pleasures.