Breo

Fate/Factitious Paradigm

’Lancer Prime’

Crash Site, Einzbern Forest

The frown remained present, features stony even as Saber’s counter struck and sent him to the trench, the sensation of pain muted despite the distance and force.

He wondered if that was just his natural ability or the fact that he was annoyed with his opponent. As he flew back toward the trench, he twisted so as to fall on his feet and then jumped back once more, creating proper distance between himself and Saber — whom he carefully observed with narrowed eyes.

His words had drained the good mood he had felt, and this bout had gone on for long enough. He toyed with the idea of going straight for the kill, but even the annoyance was not enough to overcome his desire to have an all-out battle with the swordsman at some point down the line.

After all, neither of them had put everything on the line here — a battle between Servants was a battle between Noble Phantasms, and neither he nor his opponent had revealed all their cards yet.

He could, but he would not. It all came back to that single-minded desire that had built up over the course of the skirmish — Saber was doubtlessly a great hero in his own right, even if Lancer Prime had yet to guess at his true identity. He would have to be, to even begin to keep up with him.

It was far too early to kill such an enemy, regardless of their words. He scowled, circling, but maintaining a distance between both of them, lowering his own spear minutely —

And then the sound of the explosion reached him before the following tremor. His head snapped toward the source for a second, surprise apparent in his features. Had another battle taken place so close by? He must’ve truly been off in his own little world to not to notice.

He turned his gaze back toward his opponent, eyes narrowed and wondering if there was more to this matter, before slinging his own weapon on his shoulders. The bloodlust that had emanated from him until seconds prior was gone, replaced by a relaxed air.

“. . .I didn’t see any when I came, so I’ll take your word for it,” Saber had not struck him as a liar. Confident to the same degree Lancer Prime was, yes, but not dishonest, and he admitted that such confidence was well-earned. “Besides, the mood’s ruined now. We can leave it here and kill each other in earnest later — it would not make for a good story if I ran the one good opponent through the first day and then everything else was a disappointment.”

He paused, half-turning in the direction of the explosion.

“That said, I wouldn’t be surprised if my little Master is as interested in that as I am, so I’ll be going to take a look before leaving. Feel free to follow.”

He had not asked for permission, nor did he seem to feel threatened by the possibility of Saber attacking him — his fighting mood had left him, and if he wanted to leave, there was not a thing the swordsman could do to catch him. His speed might be excellent, but Lancer Prime was extolled as the absolute swiftest among Heroic Spirits.

Even if Saber gave chase, he’d just take a look, circle back and make it out once again. Easy.

@Cu Chulainn @Phonic

Fate/Factitious Paradigm

’Lancer Prime’

Crash Site, Einzbern Forest

He frowned, quickly correcting his course so that he would be able to place an armored forearm between Saber’s uppercut and his exposed jaw, deciding to take the new situation as it came, adapt and create some distance between them, mirroring his opponent.

Still, he could not help but click his tongue in disappointment.

He had been unable to grab him.

It was not a complete failure — or, at least, that was Lancer Prime’s assessment of the situation. In a way, he supposed he should have expected it, with Saber having shown himself to possess outstanding intuition and matching reflexes.

Having that sort of advantages, only a complete fool would have neglected to answer his assault and simply let Lancer Prime do as he pleased. His ability with the art that had been pioneered by the greatest hero and the slayer of the Minotaur might not have been as great as those of his forerunners — but the level of skill he had attained in life and the corpses he had left in his wake spoke for themselves.

Whether it was his spearmanship or his pankration, his skill was not to be dismissed. Observing Saber carefully, he took the window offered to him by manifesting his spear once more, holding it lightly in his right hand while watching out for sudden moves.

His Master had contacted him with further instructions — or rather, attempted to, trailing off at the end and leaving him hanging, but thankfully she did not appear to be in trouble just yet.

That was good — he could not very well fight this man if he did not put his all into it. Worrying about his Master on top of that would make things harder.

Still, he supposed he should get to those arrows and leave, preferably soon — they had been fighting for a while regardless, and Saber had proven to be an excellent opponent. Unveiling his own trump cards — killing him right now — was not something Lancer Prime wished to do.

It was far too early for that.

However. . .

"I may have underestimated your skills at Pankration, but once I strike your heel, it will be over for you, Lancer!"

His shoulders tensed and he forgot all previous thoughts.

It was not a surprise that he knew about his weak point — it was part and parcel of being one of the most famous heroes in the entire world, and he had not really done much to hide it.

However, that single sentence had nonetheless caused a shift in Lancer Prime’s demeanor. If glares could kill, Saber would have definitely been ash by now.

He listened to his words with half a mind, saying absolutely nothing, continuing to fix him with that stare, and only when saber was done did he speak.

“. . .Talking about the arrows, then? Sure, sure. We can definitely do that if you’d like, but. . .” His arm drew back. “You should be able to multitask effectively, no Saber?” He questioned, and his voice could have driven crows off the battlefield.

It would be one thing to boast about being able to catch him.

It would be one thing to boast about being stronger.

But what Saber had done was. . .

“I don’t mind hashing out the details, but you’d better survive long enough for us to agree on the terms.”

Ah, he had only come to get those things and meeting him had been a great bonus — he did not think anything could have ruined the night, but then—

—Saber had gone and put him in a terribly foul mood.

He would listen, of course, but he was in dire need of an outlet.

So.

Without a single instant to prepare, he shot forward — opening with the same move he had launched toward Saber at the start of the match, his hero-killing thrust seeking to bite into the throat of the enemy.

”It’ll be over the moment you strike my heel? Who the hell do you think you’re talking to?”

@Cu Chulainn @Phonic

Fate/Factitious Paradigm

’Lancer Prime’

Crash Site, Einzbern Forest

Something was not right.

Something was very much not right. Lancer Prime might have been confident in his skill, but even he could not help but find it odd that his opponent neither frowned or showed surprise once his hold sent him tumbling to the ground. He could understand the thrill of a good fight, of course, but the glint in his eye gave away that there was something else about this.

Regardless, it was no use to think about that now. He had always been a man that dealt with things as they came — perhaps that disposition would cost him, perhaps not, but he would not change course. Not that he’d be able to at this point, with Saber ready to collide. He continued through the motions as planned — the throw executed perfectly and his arm cocking back to launch the punch in a smooth transition — until Saber dodged by a hair’s breadth, his strike rupturing the ground instead.

He let his features change into a frown, starting to pull back, but it was too late — Saber was not quicker than him, but between his natural capacity and top-notch intuition, he was able to keep up and catch him off-guard like this. He was ready to, perhaps, be pulled into a wrestling contest — even eager, regardless of it being under his opponent’s terms, excited about the challenge and confident in his technique.

He was, however, not ready for the sudden explosion that managed to leave him dazed. It had not been powerful enough to breach the defenses of his armor, but it had interrupted his plans for a follow-up rather handily, which meant it was Saber’s move.

His mind reviewed possibilities — but, once again, Saber’s choice would surprise him. He had, after all, not expected the man to turn Lancer Prime’s own weapon against him, especially considering what he had done moments prior, but he was not about to look a gift horse in the mouth, so he dove down to meet his quarry.

It was a strange situation if looked through an outside lens. Not only did Saber have the advantage of reach, thereby making it impossible for Lancer Prime to engage in a grapple without being skewered, but it should have also been an expected strategy in any battlefield — it was, after all, the one weapon Saber had on hand and the Servant clearly knew how to thrust with a spear.

Yet. . .

“Come on now, Saber, did you seriously expect such a rookie mistake?”

This was not a normal battlefield, and neither was that a normal spear — and unless Saber possessed an ability that allowed him to ‘take possession of the treasures of other heroes’, the fact remained that regardless of whose hands it was on or the distance between them, that particular spear was a Noble Phantasm that belonged to Lancer Prime.

So he did the only natural thing when he was faced with his own weapon: much like Saber had done with that shield of his, he dematerialized it before it touched his skin as a matter of course, continuing his assault toward an opponent that was on the ground and had overextended an arm and had kindly put himself into a proper position.

Knees meeting the ground, he quickly made to grab that arm and get him into a shoulder lock, trying to get the other arm tucked beneath his leg.

The basics were rather simple — use Saber's own arm as a lever while his head and other arm remained bound by Lancer Prime’s legs, twisting to put his target into a torque and cause pressure greater than the joints could handle.

He had done it to some people, and the results were not pretty. He’d have to see whether Saber knew how to use that strength of his for more than just punches.

@Cu Chulainn @Phonic

Fate/Factitious Paradigm

Anastasia Alexandrovna Voronin

Foreigner’s Graveyard, Shinto

“Ooh, what is this?”

Curious, so very, very curious. She hadn’t really expected to meet yet another fellow under these circumstances — a tad too presumptuous, considering that her reason to come could have probably applied to any necromancer worth the name, but her surprise at learning just who she had summoned had left her with the notion that there would not be another such coincidence.

Still, it was far from a bad thing — there was always that healthy sense of competition whenever she met a fellow practitioner, and this would doubtlessly be an interesting way to start the night off. Peering through the eyes of her familiars, she observed the approaching forces as her own pets moved toward the graveyard.

Hmm, now, what was the welcoming committee comprised of, again? She could distinguish a few normal ones, but also. . .oh.

Oh, that dog could be a problem. Her smile widened and she giggled into her hand. Seeing as neither magus nor Servant were around from what she could perceive, it would actually be a fight if her pets were to be pitted against them. She had chosen to just send some that had been idling around — no more than five — since it was supposed to be scouting and retrieving materials, but she was glad to have sent an specialized one — it would give her the chance to gather information and get a show, since the things she required for further preparations would still take a while.

Besides, it was so earnest an attempt she just could not bear not to watch it.

“Well then, kindly show me what you’ve gotten up to.”

---

Z-Team Alpha

Near the Graveyard, Shinto Church

They stilled without warning, vacant eyes turning to observe the sight that greeted them uphill. Originally, their orders had been to secure bodies and resources for their mistress to use, but that had now changed to ‘battle the creatures approaching from the church’.

One or the other meant little to them. If the orders changed, they would adapt to complete them regardless — after all, they had not been given any capacities beyond what Anastasia had deemed ‘necessary’ for them to function and perform in their allotted tasks — all else was secondary. One in particular, clad in what looked to be a heavy coat, approached to the forefront.

It was tall — particularly so compared to its companions, and more than a little bulky, yet when it shed the coat, the head looked disproportionately small compared to the body, fitting a more normal-sized fellow. However, the most eye-catching thing was. . .

—The stupendously ugly scar that ran from its neck to the base of the abdomen, almost as if it had suffered some particularly grievous accident. Its arms were spindly — altogether too thin, giving it a disproportionate appearance on every level, and its hands could hardly be called such, resembling more claws made out of bone.

They moved then, it ran them over the scar, settling over it for a second before the pinions dug.

There was no blood, there were no screams — the flesh parted for them and the moving corpse forced its torso open, but no viscera spilled out. It had been fully hollowed of anything that had been deemed unneeded, and in its place. . .

Like a macabre jack-in-the-box, more claws appeared, this time from the inside, as if seeking to hurry the process along. The entire torso parted down the middle, opening up like a wardrobe to reveal four more pairs of such extremities folded within. The mess of limbs disentangled as the monster stepped forward, its face the perfect picture of serenity as bones clicked into place.

its companions would help, of course, and his main target was the wolf that had earned the interest of their Mistress, but if any chose to approach it, it would kill them all the same.

@EnterTheHero

Fate/Factitious Paradigm

’Lancer Prime’

Crash Site, Einzbern Forest

’Got it.’

He replied to the order from the mental link as an afterthought, too lost in the midst of battle to care. Normally, he would have been annoyed, but his mood soared sky-high, given the circumstances.

“An endurance type, huh? Guess this could take very long at this rate.” Lancer Prime joked still, even as his spear seemingly failed to completely take the enemy’s hand as he had intended.

Just as he had surmised, the armor worn by the black swordsman before him was, while not on the level of his own, still a treasured artifact that offered the one who wore it a measure of ‘invincibility’, though he had yet to determine the full extent of it. It had not entirely blocked attack, judging by the dropped blade, but between it and the abilities of his opponent, it had certainly been reduced enough to not to completely disable his hand.

Annoying, but informative nonetheless. He would not have been so rushed to cover his head and neck with the shield if it was a characteristic of his ‘body’, so that ruled out some other individuals that were closer in nature to Lancer Prime.

“I see you have me at a disadvantage, Saber — I guess such is the curse of being so famous. Can’t say I’ve figured you out just yet, though.” The smirk that wormed its way into his face clearly gave away the true implication behind the statement.

What did it matter if he knew? He would not shy away from combat just because his weakness had been discovered by the enemy. He angled his body slightly — only turned slightly sideways, just a touch shy of facing Saber completely head-on.

The grip his enemy had on his spear was not something he could break — Saber had displayed the skill Mana Burst, and his natural Strength was first-class. Wasting time attempting to wrest it away from his grip was not the answer, so he did the next most natural thing.

“Hold onto this for me for just a second, will you?”

He let go.

It was stupid — He had just made an attack to disable Saber’s sword, and now he was forfeiting the advantage just like that?!

Of course not. To begin with, he was not some one-trick-pony that could only do a single thing — though he had not been (would never be) a match for that great hero of his land, Lancer Prime was still a natural-born warrior that had studied under the great sage, and had absorbed all the knowledge Chiron had to impart to the point of becoming his second-best pupil.

His ‘talents’ did not lie in ‘spearmanship’ alone. They lied in ‘all the skills necessary for a hero’. And that included. . .

”Identify the opponent’s weakness, advance, and then be sure to crush it. That is—”

—The core, right, Teacher?

Without wasting an instant, Lancer Prime surged forward to meet Saber, knees bent slightly, his eyes darting toward the shield that sought to smash against his head — he ducked, minutely, as his now freed hands moved toward his enemy.

One sought to grip the opponent’s arm, the other sped toward Saber’s abdomen. Without wasting any time, he shifted once more, rotating and —

”Remember that you are not limited to your muscles alone. Invite the opponents themselves to fail.”

Using the momentum Saber had put into his blow against him, in conjunction with his legs, arms and back to execute the picture-perfect throw and then, once Saber was on the ground, he would follow up with a lightning-quick punch to the unprotected face, seeking to interrupt the flow of action Rider had commenced wholesale—

”Most importantly, never let anyone else dictate the terms of the engagement, Achilles.”

—And he would use all he had learned to achieve it.

Pankration. — the hand-to-hand combat art his teacher had passed down to him, invented by his senior disciple alongside the slayer of the Minotaur, the two men that had already been legends by the time Lancer Prime — Achilles — was just a boy.

Furthermore, Lancer Prime was also one of those rare great heroes that displayed the Skill, Bravery at the highest Rank, an attribute he shared with that man. If Saber sought to challenge him in hand to hand, he would be sure to rise to the occasion.

Of course, his enemy’s specs and abilities were still noteworthy even without the added defense of the armor, but he thought it would grant him enough of a window to retrieve his weapon and create some distance.

Most likely, he would obey his Master and leave. It was still too early and there were far from enough witnesses to the duel to kill such a magnificent enemy — it would be a shame.

In that regard, this was the childish streak of the great sprinter showing itself once more — he would spare an enemy solely because it would be more dramatic to face him later.

@Cu Chulainn @Phonic

Fate/Factitious Paradigm

’Lancer Prime’

Crash Site, Einzbern Forest

The soaring spearhead was stopped by the shield, and Lancer Prime’s delighted laugh echoed in the forest as the song of steel meeting steel began once again.

Certainly, it appeared his opponent was not to be underestimated — to begin with, not many heroes could claim to be able to keep up with him like that. Saber must have been a great warrior indeed, to be able to even raise his shield in time — exactly the sort of enemy he wanted to face, exactly the sort of hero he desired to clash against during this second life.

Just as he stepped forward, so did Lancer Prime step back and to the side in turn — it was not an unexpected strategy. After all, one of the basics he had gotten beat into his head during his formative years was ‘kill the enemy while they are at the wrong range’.

In this battle, his spear offered him the advantage of reach compared to his opponent’s sword, and if he could circle to the side his shield did not cover he would only make it harder for Saber to properly defend himself. Furthermore —

His opponent’s strike was solid, doubtlessly breaching the Rank of A, as expected of any Saber worth the name, and if it hit, the damage should be worth noting even for someone like Lancer Prime, who boasted of great natural sturdiness. The only natural course would be to attempt a block.

He should be able to reach. After all, whether it was a sprint or his attacks, his divine speed remained the same as ‘the fastest of all heroes, without a doubt’. Even if Saber had already begun his attack, Lancer Prime should be able to outpace him.

—However, he instead took the ‘chance’ Saber had offered, sending a lightning-quick thrust with all the strength he could muster toward his exposed sword-hand. Did he intend to sacrifice his leg for it?

No.

To begin with, Lancer Prime’s body was one that had been endowed with ‘immortality’. His armor was something that took that characteristic and augmented it, in its own way, to make him ‘a hero that did not know death’. But that was far from its only function.

The greatest work of the renowned artificer of the gods. The final gift of someone who might as well have been his foster brother. He would trust it, and like many times before, it would not fail.

Even if Saber’s attacks made contact, they would not be met with blood and severed flesh — but stopped by the sturdiness of the armor his enemy donned. It was not the ‘immortality’ showcased by his skin that forbade all attacks but those that carried ‘Divinity’ from harming him, but simply the quality boasted by a masterwork courtesy of the greatest blacksmith of Greek mythology.

He was not the great hero that could even get back up after being killed. Lancer Prime had but one life to give. But Hephaestus had guaranteed that taking that single life would be the greatest endeavor his enemies would undertake.

—Saber’s attacks doubtlessly reached the rank of A.

However, the Rank of A alone would not be sufficient to breach his defenses.

Are you watching, Master? This is the strength of the man you've contracted with.

@Cu Chulainn @Phonic

Fate/Factitious Paradigm

’Lancer Prime’

Crash Site, Einzbern Forest

“Hm, I wonder. . .” He made a show of rubbing his chin as if in thought. “I was ordered to investigate whatever it was that happened here, and I can’t very well return to my Master empty-handed, especially considering it was such a simple task, you know? I got my pride riding on it.”

His tone deceptively light, he simply observed his enemy striking the ground with a relaxed countenance. He made no move to attack just yet and remained in his position, cocking an eyebrow at the display, his smile still firmly in place.

“. . .Was that an attempt to scare me away, Saber?” His opponent had not introduced himself with any class, but considering that attack just now, Lancer Prime judged that to be the likeliest — after all, Sabers were famed for their high specs in general. “You’re very confident in your ability.”

It was a simple comment — nothing incredibly insightful. Most heroes were confident in the first place, they had to be, especially if they qualified for the class that was touted as ‘the strongest’. It was just something to fill the silence while he analyzed his opponent.

A shield bearing the emblem of a golden lion.

A jet-black armor, not on par with his own, but the fine craftsmanship could not be denied.

And. . .

Ah, it was still too little to go on. ‘Great armor and wielding some sword’ could very easily define a thousand heroes, and a shield with a lion’s emblem was nothing new, either. Trying to figure out his identity from just that would be laughable.

So that only left one choice, then. His eyes — sharp and piercing like those of a raptor — met Saber’s gaze in earnest, and his spear was brought back just a touch, as though he would initiate a thrust from this distance.

. . .Madness. Even for a Lancer, when facing an enemy that was ‘roughly on par’, the distance between them was too great to launch that sort of attack without enough warning that they would know where and when to block, and if Saber’s other specs matched his apparent Strength, then he would doubtlessly see it coming.

However, Lancer Prime was not a normal spearman.

“Well, I still have my orders and you’re in my way. If you won’t just let me get through to investigate. . .”
His muscles tensed, ready to explode in motion at a moment’s notice.

”I’ll just have to get your head, too.”

And then he exploded forward, practically materializing in front of his enemy. Even for a Servant, even for a Lancer, that speed was just absurd.

His spear, similarly, was a blur of black and teal seeking to bite into the enemy’s flesh, poised straight for the throat. It seemed that his speed did extend to more than just his legs — now it was only a question of whether or not the opponent could keep up.

@phonic @Cu Chulainn

Fate/Factitious Paradigm

The familiars moved through the city, feathers black as night, carefully observing the earth below.

They had spread out, they had been quiet and they had not drawn attention, as they had been commanded — the perfect servants for their lady. Maybe if they did well, she would give them names.

However, a group had different orders.

‘Bring me materials’.

That would be done, too. Whatever she requested, they would accomplish.

So it was that, in separate instances throughout Fuyuki, perhaps one would stumble upon an odd scene of dogs looking at a crow, and then carefully, slowly, they would start moving in a new direction.

Nothing notable. Not even a pattern, properly speaking — but they would all end up gathering in a certain spot, near a certain place.

But not just dogs. Snakes, as well, crawling on their bellies slowly along the riverbank under the cover of the night, hidden by the grass. Slowly, so very slowly, the animals marched.

However, more than anything, they were still spies, to an extent.

And so, while some crows concerned themselves with the gathering of resources, the others continued to observe and send whatever information they deemed useful.

In particular. . .

Anastasia Alexandrovna Voronin

Foreigner’s Graveyard, Shinto

“Well, that should be it,” She smiled, wiping sweat off her forehead that wasn’t really there as yet another zombie arose. The materials for the other project should be here soon, as well, and that would help tremendously. Ah, she could not wait to get her hands on—

Oh.

Oh.

Tonight was just full of surprises, wasn’t it? She almost could not believe the information that reached her through the karmic link — all at once, she wanted to laugh at the absurdity, cry over the waste and curse the stupidity.

But she could deal with that later. Right now? Right now it seemed that the heavens had smiled upon her once more and gifted her with yet another opportunity.

So thinking, she sent out a few commands to her puppets while she approached the Servant she had summoned—

—No, that title was not befitting any longer. As of now, she was. . .

“Teacher, sorry to disturb you,” She muttered, grasping her necklace as if nervous. “But my cute little familiars have sent me information pertaining the competition.”

She paused.

”A team has left the fallen leyline located at the church on the hill, seemingly nearly defenseless. So I feel we just can’t ignore such invitation.”

Necromancers were opportunistic by nature, but this defied even her wildest expectations. But hey, who was she to look a gift horse in the mouth? Besides, sending some of her puppets would not hurt — and perhaps they’d even get something useful out of it.

---

Z-Team Alpha

En-route —> Church, Shinto

They walked through the empty streets, taking quick and purposeful steps. To anyone else giving them a cursory glance, they would not have looked out of place at all, outside of the hours they had chosen to venture outside. However, to a more careful observer. . .

Their skin was flush and healthy. They did not stumble, they did not groan, they did not do anything that would bely their nature as ‘something that was not human’.

But there was no mistaking those vacant eyes that seemed to stare at infinity, there was no mistaking that lack of something that was crucial to true life.

Still, that did not matter. They had their instructions, and like the good flesh machines they were, they would follow them regardless of what happened to those bodies.

The group made their way through the streets with the sole objective of reaching that church and that graveyard to steal more materials so that their mistress would have what she requested and to investigate the situation further. Slowly, they made their way uphill and stepped forward to face any traps or opposition.

For her sake, they would ‘die’ again.

@Red Alice @EnterTheHero @Floodtalon

Fate/Factitious Paradigm

’Lancer Prime’

Front Yard, Matou Manor

“Well, failures in general are just part and parcel of being alive, Master. Nobody’s perfect,” He chuckled, accompanying her after shooting the other Lancer a final, curious glance. “That said, I would not consider them ‘failures’ to begin with.”

That much was true. He might have teased her about how the actions did not fit with what her ‘ideal of a soldier’ was like, but they weren’t failures as far as he was concerned. Just a little girl showing a bit of fire.

. . .He better avoid the first half of the statement if he ever said it aloud, he thought as he carried the girl’s piano to the place she instructed.

“Eh, don’t worry about it,” His smirk had regained the cocky undertone. “I can assure you, Master, that my failure should be the last thing in your mind.”

Was it confidence, arrogance, or merely a lack of awareness regarding the situation that gave Lancer Prime the will to make such statements? In a war such as this—

—Where heroes fought each other for supremacy.

—Where what should be a ‘destined outcome’ could be overturned as a matter of course.

—Where even the brightest stars could find a match or a better.

Yes, in a war such as this, the sort of attitude that prompted one to say ‘failure is not a concern’ could be either of those three options, and only time would tell if glory or ruin awaited at the end of the road.

. . .But, if nothing else, the Servant seemed entirely self-assured, and once Benita gave the command, his eyes lit up once more.

“Alright!” He cheered, twirling his spear and following his Master to whatever battlefield that awaited them. “Just watch, Master — I’ll show you the strength of the man you’ve contracted with.”

And so, they departed, Lancer Prime ready to let his spear pierce the chests of heroes in splendid battle like the days of yore. Ready to—

Outside the Bounded Field, Einzbern Forest

—Be an errand boy?

As they made their way toward the forest and Benita explained the situation and instructions to him, his façade. . .remained the same, almost as if he really did not mind — a far cry from the previously stated desires to ‘show her his strength’ and ‘fight the other heroes of this war’, both of which he seemed to be rather eager to accomplish.

Furthermore, one would think that someone with his disposition would not find ‘courier work’ to be interesting, or even acceptable. However, Lancer Prime maintained his good cheer.

After all, she hadn’t explicitly told him ‘do nothing else’.

After all, he could do some scouting on the side.

After all, he was about to venture into enemy territory.

After all, if he met said enemy. . .well, there were just a thousand ways it would go, no?

“Yeah, sure, I’ll get it for you, Master. . .” A smirk once again made its way to his face. “Just to make sure, though, if someone's in the way, you don't mind if I kick their ass, right?”

Lacking the decency to even wait for her confirmation, Lancer Prime broke into a run, leaving behind only a sound akin to the crack of thunder and a trail of shattered ground.

Moving straight through the forest, he deftly avoided the trees and ignored the rough terrain as though it was not even an inconvenience, shooting forward like a bullet and attaining speed even the greatest among humans would find—

. . .No, that was wrong.

To begin with, Lancers were supposedly lauded for their speed in the first place — it was the hallmark of their class. To say that ‘his speed far surpassed that of humans’ would only be par for the course, and although Lancer Prime boasted of even higher specs, they were not ‘something no other Servant could attain’. Or rather, they shouldn’t have been.

But if anyone were to watch him now, one would have to wonder if even among the renowned heroes of ages past there would be a single one that could hope to match that sprint.

Reaching near the edge of the supposed crash site, he leapt to a tree branch and stopped almost as suddenly as he had started, surveying the area before him and whistling.

“Whoever that was, they sure didn’t hold back.”

Indeed, the craters proved as much, the landscape of the forest blown away around them as though a god had taken offense. His eyes narrowed as he jumped from branch to branch, approaching with more care than he had just a few moments prior and looking down to discern any sort of interesting—

. . .Ah, wait. To begin with, it appeared that he was not alone. Someone had beat him to the place, a Servant in fine armor and carrying a sword — Saber, then? He certainly looked the part of the knight.

Was this another curious party or the Servant of the owners of this place? Regardless, it would not do to try and skulk in the shadows — so he cheerfully announced his presence with a laugh, pleased.

“Well, I would be lying if I said I was fully expecting to meet anyone here, but my luck seems to be great tonight,” Spear slung across his shoulders, he looked at the man before him. “I take it you’re curious about that lightshow from earlier, too? We could compare notes if you like.”

But then, he paused — his smile became sharper, his eyes narrowed, and he brought his spear to bear, pointing it straight at his quarry from across the clearing.

“Or, if you want, we can just skip the pleasantries and start killing each other right now. I’m fine with either.”

@phonic @Cu Chulainn @Crusader Lord

Fate/Factitious Paradigm

Hero of the Rushed Life

Front Yard, Matou Manor

“Is that so?” Lancer shot another winning smile at his Master — no doubt, he could have gotten a girl to blush with only a passing glance but there was no mistaking the amused nature of it if one looked at him for more than a single second. “I don’t know, Master, you’ve looked pretty human to me so far, especially back when we first met. Was that behavior proper for what you think a soldier to be?”

Perhaps the words leaving his mouth surprised him, as well. Had he not resolved to be careful so as to avoid issues? If so, why was he pushing it?

. . .Because to him, understanding that sort of belief was impossible. Because he was someone that lived for himself and those he loved alone.

Because watching someone limit themselves like that was just sad. And so, he spouted the first thing to come to mind, even if he would suffer for it later, because his heart was on his sleeve and his mouth ran faster than his feet sometimes.

Make that a lot of times.

But that was perfectly fine. Perhaps some would mourn his lack of tact, but he would just shrug and move on — no sense crying over spilled milk.

That was just the sort of moron Lancer was — but at least he was an idiot who understood his own idiocy.

So now that he had said it, no sense in trying to back out.

“In fact, I am pretty sure yelling and trying to headbutt someone like that is definitely not what you think a soldier would have done. Try to show some fire like that more often, Master — and laugh a bit. Being a soldier is no excuse for being so grim — I’d say it’s bad for you. Judging by your smile just now, if we give it a few more years, the moment you try to change your expression, your face will break.”

Ah, but there was another thing to attend to. His head turned to regard the magus that opened the door and greeted them in welcome — and again, he flashed a smile and followed his Master in, spear slung across his shoulders, listening with half a mind while looking around.

To greet them so readily considering the circumstances — even if they should be allies — was either a mark of stupidity or confidence in herself and her own Servant. Perhaps there was the possibility of genuine trust, but he hardly expected that from magi, so he discarded the idea as soon as it came to mind.

His demeanor when the other Servant appeared did not change much — his easy expression did not change even though his muscles tensed imperceptibly, ready to answer to an attack that may or may not come as though it were second nature, but otherwise he showed no hostility and met her gaze evenly. It would not do to answer hospitality like that.

However, something the Matou Master said did catch his attention.

More than seven Servants? He could not help it — he laughed, the feeling of excitement carried by it made almost palpable and, for a second, he lost himself to his fantasies.

“What good news, Master!” His grin showed far too many teeth and he looked more akin to a predator. His grip on the spear had tightened. “This’ll be a battle to remember, I’m sure.”

Lancer was not a patient man, and that characteristic had risen to light with the news — it was obvious that he would much rather be hunting other Servants and vying for battles than standing around while his Master formalized the details of this little pact, but he supposed he would have to bear with it until later tonight.

Still, it was enough to make him feel giddy. His mood improved significantly, prior concern washed away, and his smile became more genuine.

“That said,” His eyes showed amusement as he looked at the girl. “Why so convinced that I might be a Lancer too, miss? You shouldn’t judge a book by its cover so easily. Maybe this is just a sword with a really long handle and a very short blade.”

It was certainly true that appearances pointed toward such, but appearances were just that, and heroes defied common sense often enough, even if his example had been particularly egregious.

Still, he was not wrong — Lancer was a famous hero with claims to various classes and a baffling (over)abundance of Noble Phantasms for a single man to wield. Though he would lack his armor, he could have very easily appeared as a Rider to rampage across the battlefield with his treasured chariot and he would still possess his spear and plenty of other things besides.

However, they were allies, at least for now, and they had revealed their own class.

“However, you were right this time.” He rubbed his chin with one hand as he seemed to think something over. “Hm, yeah just saying ‘Lancer’ might get confusing. . .oh, I got it.”

His eyes lit up in much the same way a kid’s would after finding a solution to a particularly difficult problem and his smile widened.

“You can just call me Lancer Prime. It has a nice ring to it.”

@phonic @ManyThings

---

Anastasia Alexandrovna Voronin

Foreigner’s Graveyard, Shinto

Ah.

In a way, she supposed this should not be surprising, but it couldn’t be helped — the figure of her Servant appeared before her and, if nothing else, she was suitably awed to begin with — beings such as these, they all had an inherent radiance to them, and this one was no different, regardless of how much they covered themselves.

Regarding their abilities, though. . .from what she could see about them, manifested in her vision as they were, she seemed to be. . .

"It's shoddy. But, it'll do for now."

That sentence confirmed her guess, and suddenly, she felt much like a lamb standing before a wolf. Introduction in that regard would be unnecessary.

A Caster. Of all the potential classes, she had not given much thought to what would have happened if the one to turn up was that one. In a way, it was only her fault that she was at a loss — the decision to compete in this backwater ritual had been motivated entirely for the desire to gather materials, and she had chosen to summon a hero that would be ‘compatible’ rather than procuring a catalyst to call a specific one.

Basically, she had left everything up to a coin toss, and only time would tell if the coin had doomed her or not by this point. The silver lining was that they did not seem about to attack — fat lot of good those Command Mantra would do at this distance, regardless of how wondrous they were. Even further. . .was that a touch of interest in her Servant’s voice or had she imagined it?

‘I won’t ignore such cute efforts’.

If it had come from anyone else, perhaps she’d have been insulted, but considering the situation. . .it was praise enough for her. The fact that her Servant had praised her ‘potential’ was a good sign. But what. . .

"However, why don't we drop that little pretense? I would prefer our relationship to be of a 'Master' and 'Apprentice'."

Oh.

Oh.

Her mind almost screeched to a halt as she regarded the offered hand with something akin to wonder. She had certainly not expected this.

Was she being too trusting? Was this a trap?

. . .No. Her prior assessment still held. If Caster wished to break away from her or kill her, this pretense would not be needed, so this offer seemed to be the real deal. Her head felt faint, and she chuckled.

“Well, I could, yes, but that would hardly be proper considering your kindness, Caster. . .though I suppose I should call you ‘Teacher’.”

And with that, it was sealed.

“My name is Anastasia. I’ll be in your care.”

She inclined her head and took the Servant’s hand, uncaring about whether or not she had made a deal with the devil. This sort of opportunity, this kind of gift, was one she could not afford to let slip away.

“May I ask what the name of the Heroic Spirit I have summoned is?” Genuine curiosity filled her tone. “As you can see, I used no catalyst, so I’m in the dark regarding your abilities beyond your class.”

A frown overtook her features, but it was not directed at Caster. Rather. .

“Still, I wish I could have known to try and summon you earlier — I don’t doubt you could have done a better job in an hour than I managed with this graveyard for a week. Geez, this is actually embarrassing. . .”

She shot a glance at the zombies playing the instruments, their services not needed anymore — a wave of her hand caused them to stop just as suddenly as they had begun, leaving the night unperturbed. Her gaze turned toward Caster once again, and she seemed to ponder on what to say.

“. . .I had a pet project I intended to see to tonight, had I summoned a more meatheaded sort, but considering you’re here. . .well, Teacher, what is the first order of business?”

@Red Alice