Tristan's rest would be a brief one but enough to make a difference if need be. The quarry he noticed before began to move, thus the Archer needed to do so as well.

Tracking, and anticipating its movements was simple. There was no rhyme or reason to them, almost as if they were those of a beast.

Even so, Tristan closed in with care, trying to avoid the possibility of any counter ambushes. After all, it wasn't unthinkable that this may just be a diversion. No sane Heroic Spirit would move this blatantly in the open.

Tristan got in a position to attack his target only as it crossed into the Foreign District, right on the other side of the Seine's banks.

Meanwhile, the Archer was in a small grove, at the southern edge of Parc de Bercy. Distance wasn't a luxury or a concern this time.

Tristan approached his quarry until they were less than 300 meters apart. Its presence was actually far stronger than the Archer thought at first. It almost felt like tracking down and hunting a Phantasmal Beast -- not unlike his living days.

Once Tristan found himself in position, he fired an opening volley of fifteen shots -- all aimed to kill -- followed by a brief pause to analyze to the outcome. If need be, more shots would follow. Or, retreat to a second shooting spot.

---

---

@Reflection

Everything was happening too far for Madhisi to correctly understand in her current situation.

The Servant that came for them, didn't answer her question. Nevertheless, he left her with no doubts about the reason for his appearance. The way he casually dispatched of the Caster who had drawn her here was awe inspiring.

However, there was no time to think about it. Not when Berserker went back into fighting mode, causing another spike of pain to run through Madhisi's arm.

The reason for that was -- as she expected -- that they were being ambushed yet again. That caused Berserker to react on Instinct and defend Madhisi, before retaliating.

This wasn't a favorable situation, running would be hard, and trying to fight for any sort of extended time would be even harder. Their only real option was a quick and swift kill.

That said, Madhisi was in no condition of helping in any way, shape, or form. With the time Mordred bought, she reached for cover. As far away from their assailants as possible. Once she had something solid behind her, she gave one simple order to Berserker:

---

---

@floodtalon@ItMeGritty@King Cosmos

Lancer acted quickly to save his Master’s life, throwing an arm around him and hauling him non-too-gently to the side to avoid the first bench thrown their way. The second bench was slightly wide of the mark, even more so with Jackson now on Lancer’s other side, and the fire hydrant was deflected with a mighty swing of his oversized spear, the flat of the blade striking the projectile and knocking it off course enough to miss them.

“My, my; it seems this Servant has sharp senses. I would advise not firing off any more shots so long as they are around to hear it.”

They were still within the confines of Jackson’s bounded field, miraculously, meaning their enemy shouldn’t be able to detect them precisely. It was clear however that they had given away their general location by making the first move; it would be dangerous to stay here. His spear still rang with the impact of the fire hydrant, giving him a good idea of what would have happened should it have hit his Master or even himself. He didn’t imagine being hit by Berserker’s sword would be any better for his health.

“Master, I will keep the Servant occupied. Reposition and hide yourself again; once you are safe we can decide what to do.” With that said Lancer stepped out of the bounded field, revealing himself to both the enemy Servant and Master. Reaching into a pocket of his robes he pulled out a stone of white jade and held it firm. “Is this how a hero fights? Is that sword just a prop? Face me, hero.” Placing the white jade in his mouth and closing his lips, Lancer held the Aram spear at the ready as he waited to see if Berserker would take the bait.

@floodtalon@ItMeGritty@KoL

@SSW@ManyThings @Cu Chulainn @King Cosmos





He let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding.

“I’m sorry that you got mingled up in this.” he mentioned. Ah, even if they were allies…

“This was a fight left over from yesterday. I’m not very sure about the details of it truth be told. Ywain and I are both surprised by Archer’s attack in more ways than one. In truth I’m not really sure why he attacked like that. Did he wish to fight Ywain? Did he wish to simply kill me?” The in his hand tapped against the ground, the wood that formed the floor curling around it as its tip sunk in, its surroundings turned into shavings by the light touch and made to crawl up it like thirsty vines.

“I do not know, I do not understand.”

I’m a bit frightened, he thought to himself. I’m disappointed, said a deeper voice not his own.

“If he was attempting to eliminate us then it is strange that he attacked when he could see a group of four. If he was trying to duel Ywain then it is strange he attacked me. If he simply had a desire or reason to kill me… Well, is it a folly of love that drove him so? Archer is a knight who knew many tragedies in his life. Is he fighting to erase one? And if so.”

He thought of the knight so independent from the others in his legends and tales.

“Which one is he trying to burn away?...”

The fairy in turn who looked rather nonplussed, as though expecting this result hopped back onto her foot, having been lazing about in a rather relaxed manner, practically taking a nap on the ground

“Well, that’s fine isn’t it. If he ever attacks again we’ll just beat him. He’s tried a one on one, he’s tried a sneak attack. The only thing left for him to do is bring some allies of his own. We’ll be fine even then. That said, you’re a pretty firm one, aren’t you?” Elaine asked of Cleo.

“Kill him.” she declared, in mimicry, deepening her voice and giving a swaying gesture with her hand. “Well, that sort of decisions important. It’s a shame he got away, but it was some good work I imagine… Puh, I can’t actually see the battles happen unlike you guys so it gets a bit boring. Anyway, yeah, it was a bit weird I thought when your Saber barged in but I think things are working quite well. If you ever need to find us come over to these areas.”

Unfolding a map of the city from one of her pockets, Elaine descended upon Cleo, happily sharing tidbits, both of information actually related to their positions and alliance… and completely trivial information such as which streets had a nice view of the skyline, which ones had a nice sound and environment.

“This part is really nice along the river… and oh, this place looked like it had really nice pastries. It was closed when we passed by however because Noon was taking too long making dirt-hills! Then he took a nap after yesterday. I’m half-tempted to sneak out all by myself.”

Noon let out an exasperated sigh that gave way to a smile before turning away. He held up his sword and left the building. “Ywain, return. We’re hunting for Assassin. I trust your combat prowess have not declined after that warm up?”

Looking over his shoulder he called out to his ally. “Lady Forsberg. It was an honor to fight alongside you for the first time. If you would wish to come with us your presence would be welcome. However this errand of hunting a thief is a personal manner so you are not under any obligation.”

Whether they were joined or not the three would leave into the night, and come to approach where the stolen sheath was held.

Andrews exhaled, having been saved by his Servant at the last minute.

"Thank you. Take care of him..."

He quickly ducked down the rue they were standing at the mouth of, putting some buildings between himself and the fight that was about to commence. He placed his back to a wall and mentally called back his familiar. Berserker's Master had been just outside his range. Had he been a few feet closer, or possibly using a more modern weapon (damn his sense of aesthetic) he could have possibly taken her out. No matter, she had looked worse for wear. Berserker's mana requirements were taking a toll. If Lancer could outlast Berserker, he might not even have to draw blood himself. However it was better safe then sorry. He reestablished a boundary and began formulating a plan to close the gap.

---

Meanwhile





Honda leapt back up the hotel room where Dietrich was to. He flashed him a cocky grin.

"I must say, I am quite impressed by your performance. Had a soldier such as yourself been around in my time and corner of the globe I certainly wouldn't have made it to retirement. A shame the Berserker fled, but any battle you can walk away from unscathed is a win in my books."

The general chuckled as he slung his spear over his back and turned his back to the knight.

"I propose a contest. I sense the presence of many servants close by. It seems we are in the middle of a battlefield. I suggest we split up and see what kinds of action we can get ourselves into, see who can fell the most foes by the end of the night. Loser buys drinks tomorrow. And should an unfortunate fate come to either of us, then we should promise to drink for the one that fell."

He turned back and smirked.

"What say you, honoured knight?"

@floodtalon@KoL@King Cosmos@Cu Chulainn@Seirei No Hai

Unfortunately for Archer, he was far off when he began his chase. And Berserker hadn't been going slow. By the time Archer would have gotten into position, Berserker was well out of range. And continuing to chase would have done him nothing in terms of keeping up with the beast. Maybe it was just bad luck, or perhaps the fact that Berserker wasn't exactly taking a moonlight stroll that made their meeting unlikely, but he might as well consider himself lucky. The beast he was afraid of wasn't after him, yet. Or perhaps he was just so in love that he didn't notice or care about somebody trying to chase him.

But, he did have one problem.

Berserker had a fairy tree... BUT in his glee he had forgotten the most important part. A FAIRY! UGH! STUPID! But he didn't want to go back and hunt for one. If he took to long his love would worry, and that would be even worse! Whatever the case, Berserker ran through the city, avoiding any curious eyes. But... As he was running he noticed something strange. THERE WAS A FAIRY! _{Also a master, but that was like... Inconsequential.}

Noon would probably feel the servant's presence before he saw, but Roland made that very clear when he leapt down from the roof of a building. His hulking size causing the pavement to crack at his feet, eyes narrowing upon Elaine, and almost completely ignoring Noon. "FAIRY! Get in the tree!" He demanded, presenting the tree he had plucked from the forest. Advanced dialogue wasn't in a Berserker's nature, but it might cause some trouble considering he was basically trying to kidnap somebody's familiar. "You're going to help me prove my love to my lovely love! And then I CAN SLAUGHTER THE ENEMIES OF MY LOVE!"

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________



"I'll accept your apology for now, however... the next time you do this. There will be no remorse and I will have to do a different kind of conquering."
Chieko was naturally flabbergasted at this response. Her eyes wide, heart thumping like a drum, and her mind burning at the thought. It was like a million little Chieko's were running around her head, setting fire to several computers and trying to hide her hentai collection.
'She wants to do the lesbians!? How shameful! Come on Chieko, don't let her confuse you! Think straight thoughts! Men with buff chests! Nice suits! BOOBS! DAMNIT CHIEKO! WHAT DID WE JUST TALK ABOUT!?' Naturally this thought process wasn't readable, but the blood running down her nose was not very subtle either. But with a cough into her fist, she set herself back to a decent neutral.
"Well, I will certainly keep that in mind. I'll have to save that for when we aren't out in the open. And certainly not in a shrine. Amaterasu will send Daji upon us for sure I did something so egregious."

"Chieko-san, why are you here? I'm sure you're aware, but this is a Holy Grail War. There is a very good chance you could die should you misstep. As a shinobi I walk with death every day, but you... you don't have to be here you know."
"Asking for my life story already, huh?" Chieko said, grinning from ear to ear. "Oh lovely Nobukara-sama-desu-kun, I came here because I wanted to earn money for the temple. The holy grail war was just an excuse." She smiled, though on the inside she was panicking. 'Oh no! What if she pries? What if she learns the truth!?' Again, those thoughts were quieted. "In truth, I can be an ally, but..." There was a slight pause for dramatic effect. "Not for free. You see, my servant is Yojimbo. The manifestation of all masterless samurai of the Sengoku era. Wandering, seeking payment, and acting as my bodyguard for this war. And I am here to acquire funds for my temples repair and care. As such, we can fix your leg, and help you win this war without a hitch. You just gotta... Grease the wheels a little." She held out a hand, rubbing two fingers together in the universal sign of 'I am poor, please give me the money.'

"We can discuss payment later though. This is rather out in the open, and I'm sure there is a master and servant around who are a lot less reasonable than you." With luck, she hadn't pushed too hard, and now she and her ally could set up and maybe work together? Or maybe she'll get shot for asking for money from a warlord.

Tristan gave up on his pursuit of the mysterious interloper to avoid wasting energy. As he did so, he noticed that he had arrived close to a subway station.

What better way to scout the city while saving energy than take a ride on its public transportation methods? Was what he thought as he returned to his Spirit Form -- seeing that there would be no combat at the moment -- and stepped into one of the trains.

As a mean of overland travel it was almost too convenient. Not only did it move under the street level for the greater part of the time but almost at a speed that would be tiresome to sustain for too long.

Tristan only jumped off the train when he noticed some movement nearby. Maybe, if he approached in his Spirit Form, and tried to be stealthy about it, they wouldn't notice him until he could gather some information or place himself in a more favorable position. Wasting time for the third in this night wouldn't be acceptable at all.

Not even a minute later, Tristan was standing over the the tallest building he could find nearby -- now out of of his Spirit Form -- trying to scan the area for other Servants' presences, and more importantly, to locate them directly before making his approach.

---

---

@BlueHelix

Given the fact that the enemy wasn't firing at her anymore, Madhisi took the chance to retreat away from the fight even further. She tried to remain under cover as much as possible, while concentrating her efforts in managing the flow of magical energy to Berserker. The pain was bearable for the time being, but she knew that it was only a matter of time until she couldn't even more anymore.

This wasn't how it was meant to end, she couldn't let her life end here. Hopefully, Berserker would be able to finish this before it became too late...

---

---

@floodtalon@ItMeGritty@King Cosmos

One could say this was the natural outcome. After all, the words he had been made to hear upon first manifesting in this world were words that struck at his heart, words that dredged up his traumas.

Yes, in one sense, Ahez was the ideal partner for Canio. A lunatic and a thespian of the same class as Canio himself. One who could take the role as a peer actor to him without the slightest of disjunction.

Yes, in the other sense, Ahez was the worst partner for Canio. There cannot be two suns over the land, there cannot be two stars on the stage. One who mirrors his madness will certainly deepen that very madness. It is said that observing the beautiful will make one beautiful, so is this in turn not a reflection of that most basic curse?

It had been trivial, a casual remark to be uttered before they departed for the night. The words themselves had no trace of malice, no inflammatory intent, they were merely 'Ahez being Ahez'. And yet, with his mind having been pared down, blue-steel shaven by the mirror of himself that his Master represented, Canio had lashed out.

One could say this was the natural outcome. Ahez laid on the floor, blood driving itself from her body with each beat of her fading heart. Before her stood the tragic clown, dirtied knife in hand and confusion on his face, as though he was wondering what had happened to bring them to this state.

"Ah, Master, Master, you really shouldn't have, you really shouldn't have-"

"B-By the order of these three Command Spells..."

A dying gasp left the Master, but the clown paid it no mind. Yes, for he was doomed to fade in mere moments regardless; with her death, he would be bound to vanish from this world. He did not seem to mind. This story was one that was doomed from the beginning. As such, it was only natural that he made no effort to stop her; an actor should deserve their last breath, after all.

"Engrave my will onto yours."

"-Wh--at?"

Space screamed. Under the force of three unified miracles and the simple manic whim of a dying lunatic, something impossible occurred.

"No, no! I will not put on this paint, you will not rob me of this! I am not Pagliaccio, I am not-"

A Heroic Spirit whose nature was 'perfectly becoming another'.

A human whose wavelength was sufficiently skewed to meet his.

The weight of three curses that had stepped into the realm of True Magic.

"Aaaaaaa, AAAAAAAAAAAA----aAaAaAAAAAA-"

Laugh, clown, at the banality of your story.

Laugh, clown, for the show must go on.

Core District, Outside his Master's Workshop

(Temporary Player Change)

---

The Prince of Troy had made a slight error, but he had learned something in the end. The enemy could match his technique with predictions, and match his strength with power. What was next? If he fell back on the reliable move of tossing mud, would Rider unleash his hidden mud-cannon? Still, jokes aside, the flow of the battle was not running in his favour. By relying on pure power, he had tarnished the skills and techniques developed in his lifetime. He would have to correct himself.

“TAKE THIS, LANCER!”

Rider had located an opening, and prepared an attack.

"Gah... I'd rather not, though."

Thus, Lancer did what he had done in the past against that overwhelming foe.



With the unbreakable spear raised as a precaution, a slight retreat was made. It was in this way that he had eluded even the hero who could cross a battlefield in a single breath, and so this opponent could not compare. As Lancer moved out of reach, he struck a streetside trash can with the shaft of Durindana, almost as an afterthought, and sent it flying towards Rider. With that, he leapt up onto a nearby rooftop, further from Hemlock's apartment than where the fight had began, and readied his weapon for the enemy. It was hard to say whether some gap would arise in Rider's abilities, whether through mana supply or otherwise, but no hero ever got anywhere by giving up!

---

---

His Servant was being overwhelmed. His workshop was at risk. An enemy stood just outside, held back by nothing but a verbal agreement.

None of that was too important, though. Hemlock had finally determined the perfect blue to capture the way the old man's clothing was tinted by the night sky.

It was wonderful. The emotions displayed by Cerzelium were rare in proper magi, who would have long since been mentally prepared for the furthest reaches of death and sacrifice. Moreover, the wrinkles on his face made his expression clear as day, even in this black night. It was a fine work. Extremely accurate, even on the handheld canvas as he looked down through his window.

And yet, he would tarnish it soon. The painter's brush hovered for a moment over his most fabulous shade of red. He considered the final stroke that would 'complete' the art.

No. Hemlock's magecraft would become greater the closer his painting was to the real thing. It would be best to continue.

His veins... yes, that's what I'm missing. Now, do I have a brush fine enough..?

As combat raged outside, the visionary continued to slave away.

---

^{@Phonic@Unoedipal}

[UNKNOWN ENTITY IMAGE ERROR]

Nanashi,Assassin Yojimbo(?)
Bois de Boulogne

---

"Guh... No luck for me huh?" He scratched his head ruefully. "Aah, just my luck. Three beautiful girls around me and all of them swings for the same team huh? I could almost cry."
Nanashi sat down upon a bench nearby, looking nonchalant as he watched over his Master. Nonchalant, but it was clear that he could very well swoop in and defend his Master faster than anyone could blink.

"Not for free. You see, my servant is Yojimbo. The manifestation of all masterless samurai of the Sengoku era. Wandering, seeking payment, and acting as my bodyguard for this war. And I am here to acquire funds for my temples repair and care. As such, we can fix your leg, and help you win this war without a hitch. You just gotta... Grease the wheels a little."

"Ah, that's right." Nanashi seemed to have perked up at the mention of payment. "No matter what age, people still need to eat. A hired hand for a fistful of cash. Our loyalty, bought with riches."

"I'm sure you're familiar with that concept in life..." His eyes gazed sharp at Nobunaga. "..Demon King."

Archer had gotten away. Letting out a sigh Cleo broke the connection to her Servant’s senses, returning to her own as the fight came to a close before it every really began. She pressed her thumb and forefinger to her face, pinching the bridge of her nose as a headache began to form behind her eyes; she had tried to match as much of the fight as possible through Saber’s perspective, anticipated a moment where she would need to give order or pull her Servant out of a bad spot with a Command Seal. The strain it put on her, to try and keep up with everything that was going on, from Archer’s arrows and traps to Ogier’s defense, was greater than she imagined. Especially when she had been trying to do so while also keeping half of her focus on her current situation, lest something happen to her while she was distracted.

“Return to me Saber. There’s nothing more we can do now.”

“I’m sorry that you got mingled up in this.”

Turning her head towards the other Magus, Cleo listened as he apologised for involving her in their business and explained the situation, though it sounded like Noon wasn’t sure himself why Archer was so determined to attack them repeatedly. Like Noon she was also concerned about the situation, especially since it didn’t feel like this would be the last time Archer would approach them, though her worry was tempered by the fact that it was not her the Servant had set their sights on.

“If Archer is going to continue to target you in this manner then it is going to make everything harder than it needs to be; he needs to be dealt with, sooner rather than later… we-” the rest of what she was going to say was cut off as the young girl with Noon interjected. Cleo couldn’t remember if the girl had been present the previous night, but either way her presence now was confusing. There was an otherness about her, an inhuman quality that let Cleo know this wasn’t a normal girl, but other than that she didn’t know what to make of her; a familiar of some kind?

Her impersonation of the older woman’s voice, pitch perfect and a little disconcerting to hear, alongside her words left Cleo unsure if she was being mocked or praised. Nonetheless she listened carefully as Elaine gave directions to and information about her and Noon’s location and how to contact them. It would be beneficial not to have to arrange such a public meeting next time.

“Lady Forsberg. It was an honor to fight alongside you for the first time. If you would wish to come with us your presence would be welcome. However this errand of hunting a thief is a personal manner so you are not under any obligation.”

A personal matter? While their business for the night was more or less concluded, and although Cleo had some matters of her own to attend to, she couldn’t see any reason why they couldn’t continue to work together for the time being. The whole point of forging an alliance was to assist one another after all and if this personal matter involved dealing with another Servant or Master then it would only benefit her as well.

Before she could give her answer however, she was interrupted once again. Not by Elaine this time, but by what appeared to be another Servant. He… was carrying a tree, of all things, over his shoulder and was rambling something about having Noon’s familiar help prove his love to someone. He seemed quite deranged and for the moment his attention wasn’t on her; she kept quiet and as still as possible so that it stayed that way.

“Saber, hurry back as soon as you can. We have another opponent; a Berserker this time, by the sounds of it.”

@ManyThings@SSW

As suddenly as he had arrived to attack, Tristan once more disappeared. How strange, for him not to stand his ground and fight - perhaps his Master was worried. Ywain was left confused, wondering exactly what the motive had been for his fellow knight to attack in such a strange way. But he could hardly consider it a tragedy. After all, he had an ally by his side now, someone he could consider reliable.

Naturally, it was a matter of course for Ywain to return to Noon’s side. Arriving quickly, he twisted the ring once more, and the shimmering veil of ‘invisibility’ surrounding him disappeared. Looking towards Noon, he simply nodded. A gesture of confidence, of readiness for further combat.

“It seems I’ll never understand that man.” Ywain said, musing simply to himself. Was it his own fault, for not taking the opportunity to talk to him? Perhaps… If friendship was something that went beyond words, but could not be established without them, what did it mean? Was it ever truly possible to come to a mutual understanding through ‘actions’ alone? Maybe his own perspective was skewed, considering one of his greatest friendships had been with a simple beast.

Ywain’s musings were interrupted by the presence of another enemy. A strange person indeed. Even if Ywain had little problem with doing things in the name of love, this was going a little too far.

He simply placed himself between the enemy and Elaine. If it was a matter of combating a monster such as this, attempting to communicate was beyond pointless. His sword manifested in his right hand, and he entered a defensive stance. If the enemy’s goal was not ‘to kill’, but to capture Elaine, then protection had to be prioritised. Luckily, that was Ywain’s speciality.

@Danchou @Reflection @King Cosmos @ManyThings

Residential District - moving to the Core
@Indra

---

"I see. Well, the only lead we have is that perhaps Saber and his Master will be near the tower again, so let's head there first." he said, blatantly ignoring Rei's question as he drove off towards the Core District.

"Yojimbo, huh?" Nobunaga wouldn't fall for that one bit. She's never heard of any samurai named Yojimbo in the Sengoku Period, of course that era was full of people that want to get their hands on the total reform of Japan during that era and a lot of great samurai died in the battlefield. The concept of masterless samurai? Nonsense. Surely this Shrine Maiden didn't summon a Nobody to be asking monetary funds like a mercenary captain. Which lead her to believe that Yojimbo isn't this guy's real name, it's someone else.



Nobunaga was in deep thought when both Masters were discussing terms for the partnership, she studied the man's pecs, the man's jawline, his sword- wherever it may be and yes, she means the katana, nodachi, or tachi. This guy could probably be an enemy for all she knew. An enemy she slew once before.



Whoever this guy is, he seems to know her pretty well. She was hailed famously and infamously by various Samurai all across Japan as the Demon King. So she smiled, crossing her arms underneath her bust before looking up at "Yojimbo" with eyes burning with a fighting spirit that's sure to intimidate any shogun just by looking at them.

"Hoho, so you do know me? Which also means that you're not just some nobody samurai. Then again I was always known by that title, it's a given that anyone in Japan might've heard of me otherwise they're nothing more than uncultured swine." Bold claim by Nobunaga. She didn't mind the use of mercenaries, it's a given that they're always hired by warlords in times of war no matter the culture or era of any Hero.

"I'm sure the Embassy can pay you. After all my Master here did all the work when we arrived, my nation wouldn't mind if some funds were taken from the treasury should you help us with our victory. Although if we're the last two standing. Consider the alliance off and I will not hesitate to blow you and that hunky samurai to smithereens. Alright Shrine Maiden, "Yojimbo"?" Threats already combined with that confident smug of hers.

@floodtalon @GreenGoat @Reflection

It was quite unfortunate for the Lancer, had Mordred been any other class she may have fallen for such a taunt. Dashing in, sword swinging as she answered the challenge to her chivalry and heroism. However, right now, these words were wasted on Berserker's ears. Not only could she not 'hear' them because of her Madness Enhancement, but she literally could not them due to the fact that they were separated by hundreds of feet of space. Which is why Berserker had resorted to throwing things in the first place. But her Master's instructions were very clear, she was to kill the enemy Magus the first chance she could get, even if she had to be injured in doing so. Berserker took off like a bullet, grabbing one last trashcan and leaping over the river with the speed only a Servant could possess. About halfway through over the river she threw the receptacle directly at Lancer, pulling her sword out and preparing for battle as she headed straight for the Khan.

The trashcan struck first, most likely deflected like the Lancer had deflected the other projectiles, but the true attack was in the followup that was Berserker. She landed but a moment after the trashcan, already swinging at the Lancer in an attempt to crush him before the battle truly began. Each swing was with the intent to kill, each blow accompanied by A+ rank strength, enough power to destroy a building in a single swing. There was no control, no technique, simply raw power with the intent of crushing the enemy in her path.

As soon as Berserker launched herself towards him, Lancer settled himself in a defensive stance; crouching low with his legs wide set and bent to absorb the impact of any attack, arms above his head as he held the Aram spear at an angle, point touching the ground and the long haft forming a diagonal barrier in front and above him to block his opponents charge. He had a fraction of a second between taking his stance and his opponent’s first attack reaching him to wonder if provoking his opponent had been the wisest idea; the apparel of a knight, the weapon of a Saber and the ferocity of a Berserker, he had no idea who this mystery hero was but the aura they gave off, the pressure he felt from facing down their charge, was reminiscent of the monsters he had slain as a child.

The trashcan struck his spear with the force of a cannon shot, the receptacle exploding on impact and all but disintegrating under the forces at work as the width of Lancer’s spear protected him from shrapnel. Berserker’s first sword swing came less than a hair’s breadth after, the brutality of it sending shockwaves down the length of the Aram spear to ground themselves in the street that its tip was resting against; even with some of the force being directed into the ground below him, a shock travelled down through Lancer’s arms and into his body, his very bones protesting as Berserker threatened to turn him to dust on the first swing of their combat.

A crater formed beneath the Khan’s feet and cracks spider-webbed outwards from his feet and from the tip of his spear’s blade. He could not afford to take another hit like that, even blocking it felt like it was removing years from his life. As Berserker raised her sword for another swing Lancer shifted his stance, feet turning and hands adjusting their grip as he flicked his spear upward and around. The flat of the blade slapped against Berserker’s sword and redirected the next attack, much as he had redirected the thrown fire hydrant, as he threw himself sideways out of its path. Even the air from the swords passing was dangerous, the wind it produced buffeting Lancer and trying to peel the skin from his exposed face and hands even as it pushed him further away from his opponent.

The remaining attack were dealt with in a similar manner, Lancer fighting a constant retreat as he sought to keep his opponent at the exact range of his spear, using the full twelve feet at his disposal to parry and redirect the knight’s attack away from himself or even from the ground or buildings if he could manage it. Such steps were necessary when even the explosive force of a near miss could harm you.

@KoL@ItMeGritty@floodtalon

He was dying. He could feel it. That spiteful, chaotic last gasp of his Master had truly done the job, hadn't it? He could scarcely understand the nature of what had occurred- had 'Ahez' entered 'Canio', or had 'Canio' entered 'Ahez'? He could not tell, he merely knew that he now bore a body of flesh when it was once one of something else, a ghost chained to a great puppet of meat. At the same time, that very vessel was crumbling.

This was only natural. The purity, density, strength, solidity and every other aspect of a Heroic Spirit is far beyond what a human body can ordinarily sustain. Something like possessing someone’s physical body and giving them a Heroic Spirit’s abilities is impossible. Even being possessed by one for a moment was a 'miracle'.

However, Canio was different. Not only was his grade as a Heroic Spirit exceptionally low, but he was a being that excelled at 'becoming others'. Rather than a stone that would shatter a glass it was dropped into, he was water that would suit the confines of his vessel. It was thanks to this that it was possible to achieve something resembling Heroic Spirit possession, tethered together by the ramshackle pressure of three Command Spells.

Even then, though, this was an 'impossibility'. His eyes saw countless futures, countless disasters in which the body crumbled apart before it could be stabilized. Even with the factors that made this event possible, it was still merely that: possible. Canio's 'weight' as a spirit was straining the confines, like freezing a glass bottle. It would not take long before the glass shattered from the inside out, especially if he maintained his 'presence as a Servant'.

Ordinarily, even this would have been incomprehensible to him. However, his eyes now saw things that they had never seen, countless possibilities that assailed his addled mind, a mind that now knew of magecraft, of the ravings and research of a lost girl. Indeed, the 'will' that had been engraved on him remained. His Master, a manifestation of the Ideal King Phenomenon, was not so easily defeated even in death. He was now Ahez just as much as he was Canio.

His presence faded, becoming that of a mere human's once again. By putting on the costume of a human, it was possible to slow the process of the world's corrective influence bearing down on him, as well as the decay of his vessel. Useful knowledge that flowed from the mind of his deceased Master.

Yes, even if 'Canio' had expected to die, the will that had been carved into him still had a role to accomplish.

Yes, even if 'Ahez' had countless plans and schemes that leveraged her advantages, the will that had possessed her was a fool through and through.

"The overture ends."

It was time to go exploring.

The world shattered beneath them, yet the Khan did not break with it. The trashcan was blocked easily of course, the real surprise was in the fact that the Servant had the Strength to block even a single strike from Berserker. Of course that was all the strength he had, just enough to block a single strike. So he had changed tactics, so he had decided to go on the retreat to try and buy time for formulating a plan. It mattered not, there was no plan that could overcome raw power. Just as one cannot stop a hurricane, for a single man to stop Berserker's charge was a fool's errand. Just like the Lancer she fought before, he used all of the range at his disposal to keep her away from him. And just like the Lancer she fought before, he would eventually tire and slip, allowing her to strike the finishing blow and then find his Master. An overhead crush was barely redirected to the ground, the spray of concrete shrapnel peppering the Servant and hopefully drawing first blood. This would have pleased Mordred were she a Saber.

However the dance quickly grew irksome, each swing accented by a louder roar from Berserker as she tried to kill the Servant before her. This was taking much too long, even now Berserker could feel her Master struggling to provide her with enough mana to sustain battle. Were this the first battle of the night, had she the reason to hold herself back from using so much energy at all times, perhaps she could have finished this battle of attrition on the winning side. What an annoying pesk, a fly that would not buzzing about her in an attempt to keep her attention away from his equally annoying Master. No, to call this Servant a fly was an insult. Throughout the exchange of blows, Berserker had unconsciously identified the presence of this Servant before her. He was not Arthur, she had already found Arthur and this was not him, but he certainly had the presence of one who ruled over others. He carried the weight of a people on his shoulders, he fought with the will to protect his country. To call this Servant a fly was an insult to the title of king, something that she had sought to try and gain recognition from her father. Her father who she so loved^hated. This made her mad.

"▂▂▃▃▄▄▅▅" With a roar, she activated the shroud for a brief moment, just enough for two actions. The first was a disappearing act, whereas one second she had been in front of the Lancer, she had seemingly teleported behind him with impossible speed. It was with that same speed that she performed her next action, swinging towards Jangar's left shoulder in an attempt to cleave him in twain from shoulder to hip.

Foreign District, Near a Tree

---

Tristan vanished before Saber could reach him. Perhaps he had been too patient, ironic as that was. Would a hasty burst forward have allowed him to strike down Archer before his disappearance? He wasn't sure, but it definitely would have left him in a much worse state stamina-wise. As his speed had never risen beyond a jog, he immediately turned around and headed back towards his Master's side. The encounter just now had probably been a victory for Tristan in terms of information, but Saber already knew his identity, so what Archer was doing was simply playing catch-up.

“Saber, hurry back as soon as you can. We have another opponent; a Berserker this time, by the sounds of it.”

That was troubling. He was only a few blocks away at that point, alongside Ywain, but the fact that Cleo's orders had come as a simple message instead of a command seal indicated that the Servant was not immediately attacking. Why did mis Master think the enemy was a Berserker, then? Would a raging madman not have rushed forward mindlessly and attacked without delay? He could sense the new presence- it was standing still.

Then, he saw him. He recognized the man holding the tree when he caught a glimpse of him through a gap in the buildings.

A smile spread across Saber's face. The largest so far.

"A Berserker, Master? Are you sure? This man is a valiant-"

"You're going to help me prove my love to my lovely love! And then I CAN SLAUGHTER THE ENEMIES OF MY LOVE!"

"...No, my mistake. He's completely insane."

That word should never be heard from that man. It was a portent of chaos and disaster. And he had said it four times. His mental state was obvious.

And yet, the smile didn't disappear.



Ogier the Dane called out with mirth to his fellow Paladin. He strolled towards him as Ywain made his defensive maneuvers. His age-old friend was before him. A dangerous enemy was before him. Both of these things excited Saber, and so he approached without a hint of worry. After a brief moment of eye contact, Ogier lashed out. The sound barrier was broken in a sudden movement towards Roland. However, to those who could keep track of objects at such speeds-

There was no sword in his hand. A lone fist flew forwards. One with zero combat sense might have seen this as an attack, but of course that was not the case. It was not aimed at any part of Roland's body, but instead came as a sort of 'offer'. A greeting from beyond time that could be instinctively comprehended.

Upon meeting his buddy, Ogier had gone in for a fist bump.

---

^{@Reflection@King Cosmos@Danchou@SSW}

Berserker's focus rested firmly on Noon and the fairy he called his familiar. As such, Cleo went mostly unnoticed. She was far less pretty than his love anyway, so it hardly mattered. After all, his beloved was like blossoming roses being carried by angels who rode upon unicorns through a field of other blooming roses. And maybe a few dead Saracens. _{That was his addition to their relationship.} But even he could notice somebody like Ywain moving to stand between him and the fairy girl. The monster berserker didn't move, but instead turned the tree upright, and then let it lean against a nearby lamppost. The metal of the lamp bending under the weight of the tree, but both stood fairly straight.

He knew who this was. This was a Saracen. An enemy of his love. One who stood before him, and would dare try to keep him from the affection he was earned for his loyalty and kind heart! Berserker's eyes flashed with hatred, his lip pulling into growl. His hands curled into a fist, as the tension only rose. Which of them would attack first? Would the Saracen stand down and accept he was out of his depth? Would he attack like a fool? Or as Berserker clenched his fingers... Would he attack first. All he WANTED WAS THAT STUPID FAIRY SO HIS LOVE WOULD LOVE HIM!

"Roland!"

Into frame casually stepped another figure. Were he completely mad, he might have attacked then and there. But the moon had not taken all of his sanity yet. He noticed those swords. He noticed that smug face. Ogier the Dane. But was he an ally, or enemy? If not for the fact that this was indeed Ogier, it was only reinforced by the fist bump. Or...

An attempted fist bump. Ogier's hand was caught by Roland's, who gripped it surprisingly gently for a Berserker. AKA: He didn't powderize the bone. _Yet. "OGIER! I SEE YOU AGAIN!" His friend was standing right in front of him! Ogier was one of the few people he knew who would join his crusade to defeat the Saracens! And he wasn't nearly charming enough to be a threat to Roland's love! A WIN/WIN! Except for one problem.

Roland raised his hand high, and let go of Ogier. Sending his fellow paladin flying directly up in the air. It likely wouldn't kill him, but it was certainly something to see a Saber class servant sailing upwards. Though Roland was sure to catch him in a hug if he didn't manage to land on his feet. "NOW YOU CAN HELP ME KILL THIS SARACEN AND CLAIM A PRIZE FOR MY LOVE!" His eyes were sparking with excitement, having completely begun to ignore Ywain so that he could turn his attention onto his fellow Paladin. Though considering the odd displays of 'affection' it helped to not be in the spotlight.

"MY LOVE WILL PRAISE ME WHEN I BRING YOU TO HER AS AN ALLY TO FIGHT IN HER WAR!"

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________

"I'm sure the Embassy can pay you. After all my Master here did all the work when we arrived, my nation wouldn't mind if some funds were taken from the treasury should you help us with our victory.

HOT DIGGITY DAMN THE EMBASSY!? Chieko had to pause, eyes wide as Nobunaga spoke. Her response after that pause was to open her mouth in the most dignified manner possible, and laugh.
"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAA-" Clapping a hand over her mouth, she took a step back. Was this for real? Nobunaga had been summoned to a war, and right now was offering to pay her with actual japanese money!? No bullshit exchange rates? She could hardly believe it. And they agreed to it!? Who cared if the risk of getting shot in the head was still on the table. She would fly home on a private jet and just throw yen at Atsuko's face! She imagined it in clear detail, even down to the sunglasses and soundtrack! Maybe that was a bit overpresumptious, but it was so exciting. If she wasn't trying to appear cool and collected she might have started dancing.

Taking a deep breath, she adjusted her gown. "Well, I guess if the embassy is involved then it is only right that I should work with you to achieve your goal for our united homeland." But already she was imagining a pile of yen, running around it and tossing it about. Oh, maybe she could do that thing the duck character did in that Disney stuff! She did know how to swim in water, maybe money was similar? "I'll have to discuss our rate of pay with my servant, since we wouldn't want to overcharge the great uniter if we couldn't be sure to deliver the quality expected for the price. We are mercenaries, not swindlers and conman." She took a step over to Yojimbo, and nodded to him. "Come we have a shrine a bit deeper into the woods. It's well protected by the spirits we brought over with us. We can go to your place once we're sure you can walk properly again, eh Nobukara?." Leading the way, and taking Nobukara by the hand, the group walked towards the shrine in much the same way Dorothy walked with her friends down the yellow brick road. They even had Tomo-kun jogging alongside with a box of money.

Andrews had some things prepared as his bird touched down next to him. He acted quickly. In each of the eagle's claws he put a small wicker doll. The wicker dolls contained a centuries old curse of immolation. A Germanic criminal law called the Constitutio Criminalis Carolina allowed witchcraft to be an offense punishable by being burned at the stake. The curse was developed by European Witches who wanted to exact revenge on their oppressors by subjecting them to the same fate as their sisters. By contracting a fire demon it caused whoever, or in this case whatever, cursed to burst into flames in a grand pyre until all that was left wa ash. While the fire couldn't be directed by normal means it did envelope a wide area which Andrews felt was useful in combat. The wicker dolls themselves contained the hair of a dog, the being that was cursed. The dogs were long dead but the effect on them would remain until their proxy bodies we completely destroyed. A simple reinforcement spell on the wicker dolls made it so the pyre lasted a while longer. He shoved a similar doll down the eagle's throat, containing the same curse but also wearing an amulet. The amulet was the last step in a Navajo ritual of curse transference, should the eagle get close enough to the master.

Lastly he smeared some clay on one of the wings of the eagle. This was part of a Navajo tradtion called a vision quest. Typically it was a rite of passage taken by a young man to recieve a vision. To do this he must first be allowed permission to step onto a spiritual path from a medicine man. Since Andrews technically qualified he could grant this permission. Through experimentation he found he could isolate different portions of the ritual for different effects provided it was in service of a vision. In this case he was giving his familiar a vision of justice, to avenge the innocents killed by the Berserker, through her Master's orders. After being set onto a spiritual path, mana more easily flowed through a person in order to better attune them with the rhythyms of nature. Andrews found that, much like how the universe has a background radiation that can be seen on a tv screen as magic, the universe's mana also had something akin to background radiation. Even in places where mana was scarce, traces existed. A side effect of this was that people, animals and objects could be masked this background radiation, making their own mana signatures harder to discern from the mana around them. With the amount of bloodshed, the population density, the proximity of a magus's workshop, the proximity of another servant he hoped that this was enough for his eagle to go unnoticed by Berserker. He didn't have anything to disguise it's appearance but he hoped this would be enough.

"Go Liberty, avenge."

The eagle took off silently across the water, and if it made the crossing unscathed, would fly right over Berserker's magus. Andrews had seen the building where the magus had ducked behind for cover. If the eagle passed over, it would drop one of it's wicker dolls, the curse would trigger and an expanding pyre to fall on top of Madhisi.

---

Meanwhile




After a brief reprieve and talk with Saber, Honda was leaping from building to building, looking for an opponent. Nearing the Core District he spotted a familiar face.

"I'll be damned..."

The Samurai Among Samurai leapt down in front of The Last Sengoku Hero, giving a hearty laugh.

"Fancey seeing you here, Sanada, Samurai of the Toyotomi Clan, Crimson Demon of War. I heard of many of your exploits during our era. A shame we never got to cross blades. "

He gave his spear a twirl and plunged it into the ground in front of him, not a sign of submission but rather a display of a relaxed demeanor.

"Worry not for your Master. By your oath I shall now harm a hair on their head. This night I only seek battle from worthy opponents. But before we raise arms against one another how about we, as the people of the current era say, 'catch up'?"

---

@The World@floodtalon@King Cosmos@KoL