That night, the Masters and Servants gathered in the king's chamber of the Millennium Castle Fortress.
The light from the flames of Caster's seven-branched candelabrum, the Menorah, projected an image of the outside onto the wall as a screen.
On the screen, a single petite knight and countless golems were engaged in a deadly struggle.
It wasn't a movie. This was an event happening right now, in the town south of the Millennium Castle Fortress.
The golems produced by the "Black" Caster were powerful. A single one could easily slaughter an experienced mage. However, that was only when the target was human. Their current opponent was the "Red" Saber.
Clad head to toe in armor, his face hidden by a helmet. Yet, "he" ran rampant across the battlefield unimpeded, as if his heavy equipment were nothing, advancing like a heavy tank.
In the image, the "Red" Saber was cutting down golem after golem. It was completely one-sided. Most of the golems they sent were shattered in the first exchange. At best, they lasted two.
The five Masters, excluding Darnic, were overwhelmed by the sheer spectacle, holding their breath.
When the last golem was cut down in the third exchange, the homunculus they had sent had already been slain by the enemy Master.
"As one would expect from a Saber," remarked the "Black" Lancer.
Darnic nodded. "With no parameter below C except for Luck, it is indeed a status worthy of a sword-wielding Heroic Spirit," he reported to Lancer, maintaining his vassal's decorum. Only a Master could read a Servant's parameters.
"Hoh." Lancer let out an impressed sound at the enemy Saber's status. Darnic continued his report.
"Additionally, he seems to have an ability to conceal some of his parameters. He must be a swordsman with a legend of concealing his identity."
It seemed Saber had an ability to block a Master's clairvoyance. It was unclear if it was an inherent skill or a Noble Phantasm, but since they couldn't even recall the design of the sword he was brandishing, it appeared to be a remarkably powerful perception-obstructing ability.
Nodding, Lancer turned his gaze to their own faction's Saber.
"Can you defeat him?" he asked.
With a look that said "of course," Saber nodded powerfully. Saber maintained his silence even towards Lancer, obeying his Master's order.
Lancer did not take offense and instead smiled. To Lancer, who detested betrayal and deceit above all else, Saber's pure and loyal attitude was rather favorable.
"Even recalling his sword is difficult. What about Archer?" Lancer looked at Fiore. The Servants were also gathered here. Only Assassin, who had not yet joined them, and Archer, who had gone to visually confirm the "Red" Saber, were absent.
Fiore shook her head, acting as Archer's mouthpiece.
Archer had analyzed the sword and deduced the "Black" Saber's True Name. Both Darnic and Lancer had revised their assessment of Archer upwards due to this unexpected ability, but even Archer seemed to have difficulty analyzing an opponent with a parameter-concealing ability.
"I see. Then, it cannot be helped." Swordsmen Heroic Spirits were not limited to the Saber class. Berserkers could wield swords, and other Servants might carry swords as secondary equipment. Not being able to grasp the Saber's True Name didn't necessarily put them at a disadvantage.
He deliberately hadn't asked if Archer could discern the "Red" Saber's identity because Gordes was present.
Lancer turned his eyes back to the screen.
It showed the "Red" Saber and his Master looking over the golem wreckage.
To prevent analysis by the enemy, those golems were designed to automatically incinerate after destruction. So, there was no worry of giving the enemy clues.
This time, they had glimpsed a fraction of the power of Saber, one of the enemies requiring particular attention. That alone could be considered a sufficient achievement.
However, here, Lancer, for some reason, placed a hand on his chin.
"How about we try sending Archer against him?" he murmured casually.
At the content of his whisper, Fiore inadvertently looked at Lancer.
The assembled Servants also looked surprised at Lancer's decision.
"Fiore. Can Archer fight that Saber?" Darnic, interpreting Lancer's intent, asked Fiore.
Fiore found it difficult to reply immediately.
No matter how much trust had been built between her and Archer, the fact remained that Archer was a Servant with low parameters.
In contrast, that "Red" Saber was undoubtedly a top-tier Servant. His rank was clearly superior.
Feeling all eyes upon her, Fiore spoke.
'My apologies, Archer. It was supposed to be just reconnaissance, but it's come to this.'
Receiving the communication from Fiore via her familiar, Archer accepted the request with a wry smile.
"It cannot be helped. I should consider this a good opportunity to show off my power."
That Lancer... Archer cursed inwardly.
Currently, Archer was standing on the roof of a building two kilometers away from the "Red" Saber. The enemy was on a rooftop of similar height, so the elevation difference wasn't significant. Ideally, a taller building would have been better, but there was no point wishing for what wasn't there.
"If we're sniping, we should probably coordinate with Caster..."
A long-range snipe from Archer while Caster's golems caused a disturbance. That way, they could deal damage to Saber and still retreat safely. But why, of all times, was he being told to fight Saber after the combat had ended?
"It seems he's very interested in my abilities."
Lancer probably intended to gauge Archer's combat capability through this.
He didn't like being used, but if that was their game, he had to respond in kind.
"I am the bone of my sword."
He recited the incantation, as familiar as his own flesh and blood.
He envisioned the strongest version of himself.
His enemy was not the "Red" Saber. What he must overcome was always himself.
He nocked an arrow, indistinguishable from a sword, onto the Western bow that appeared in his left hand.
The ominous nature of that arrow was such that an ordinary person would have their soul polluted and their mind corrupted just by being near it.
" 'Red' Saber. Let me see the proof of you being the finest Servant."
The arrow Archer released scattered the wall of air and raced straight towards Saber.
A chill ran down the "Red" Saber's spine the moment the golems he had cut down began burning on their own. It was the very instant his Master, Shishigou Kairi, trying to investigate, got a face full of heat wave.
They were being targeted.
A clear killing intent, different from the golems.
"Master!"
"Guh!"
Saber shouted, grabbing Shishigou's body as if tackling him, and leaped back a good ten meters in one breath. Immediately after, a resounding roar struck the rooftop.
"Cough, Gah!... You..."
Shishigou, his breath knocked out by the sudden tackle, coughed, but seeing the scene before him, he understood the situation.
The spot where they had been standing was gouged out. A whole section of the building's rooftop had vanished completely.
Shishigou, a seasoned veteran, hadn't noticed this attack at all.
"An Archer."
"A sniper? Damn it."
The power of Archer's arrow was evident. If Saber hadn't noticed, he would surely have died.
"He's really done it, that Archer," Saber spat irritably, raising his sword.
To Shishigou's eyes, there was nothing where Saber was glaring. But Saber, with his superhuman perception as a Servant, could probably see the sniper hiding in the night darkness.
"I'll cut him down right awa—"
"Hey, Saber!"
"What, Master? Ah, damn it!"
This time, Shishigou noticed it first. Saber, distracted by Archer, noticed a moment later.
"Don't screw with me!"
He intercepted the crimson magical bullet approaching from behind.
Clashing steel against steel.
Sparks flying fiercely, Archer's arrow, deflected from its target, flew off into the distant void.
Normally, once an arrow is loosed, changing its trajectory is impossible. It's a principle that cannot be altered, no matter how extraordinary the Servant.
However, exceptions exist to everything.
For example, if the loosed arrow itself is a Noble Phantasm. If it possesses a sure-hit ability that continuously pursues the enemy, that arrow becomes a hunting dog aiming relentlessly for the prey's throat.
Hence, its True Name is Hrunting, the Hound of the Red Plains.
A product of Archer modifying the legendary demonic sword, said to increase in strength with each taste of blood, into an arrow.
A crimson flash far exceeding the speed of sound, tearing through the Romanian night.
Like a falling star, it raced straight towards Saber.
The clash repeated several times.
Each time the sword and arrow met, an impact like a bomb exploding surged through the surroundings. Shishigou, protected by Saber, could only keep his head down.
"Tch." Saber clicked his tongue, enduring what seemed like the tenth clash.
If it were just Saber, surviving this situation would be easy. The problem was Shishigou's presence. With the Master so close, the enemy might target the Master instead of Saber. Saber knew that even with his exceptionally high parameters, continuing to fight while protecting his Master in this situation would only needlessly exhaust him.
"You think the same trick will work over and over?!"
Saber, boosting his sword strike with a full-power Mana Burst, slammed it directly into the center of the magical bullet.
Having observed that its accuracy and speed dulled with each repeated attack, he lured it in fully before unleashing his finest strike.
As expected, the enemy's Noble Phantasm had reached its limit.
The shattered arrow smashed through the floor, pierced the building, and exploded below.
"Let's go, Master!"
Saber grabbed Shishigou by the scruff of his neck, leaped from the crumbling building, and ran into an alley.
After Shishigou caught his breath, Saber asked about their next move.
"They blew up a building. In theory, we could pull back now."
Shishigou peeked from the alley onto the main street. The sound of destruction echoing through nighttime Trifas. Yet, no one seemed to be coming out.
"Quite the magecraft, huh? That bounded field even works to conceal the building's collapse."
Besides the bounded field that detected their presence, concealment magecraft accounting for urban combat was also in place. It was only natural, given this whole area was enemy territory.
"So then."
"Yeah, that bastard's still aiming. He plans to hit us the moment we move from here."
Saber's intuition was comparable to limited future prediction. A warrior's instinct on the battlefield... shouldn't be underestimated, and he possessed it as a skill due to being a Servant. Therefore, Shishigou couldn't dispute Saber's judgment.
However, even so, they couldn't just stay here and have a staring contest with Archer.
They destroyed the earlier magical bullet. While Servants typically had one or two Noble Phantasms, it was possible he had another bullet equivalent to that one. No, he probably did. He wouldn't waste a unique Noble Phantasm right at the start of the Holy Grail War.
If that was the case, Archer could blow them up along with the building right now if he wanted. And while they were pinned down, enemy reinforcements might arrive.
"We have to deal with Archer somehow."
"Do you have a plan?"
In response to Saber's question, Shishigou showed the three Command Spells on the back of his hand.
"I see."
A vicious smile spread across Saber's face, hidden beneath his helmet.
The Holy Grail War, and the original Grail Wars it was based on, were not so lenient that one could fight through them relying solely on a Servant's capability.
Surviving until the end tested not only the Servant's strength but also the Master's capability.
The Master's capability here does not refer to their skill as a mage.
It refers to the judgment to favorably maneuver the bargaining chip—how to utilize the three limited miracles known as Command Spells dwelling within them.
For the "Black" faction observing the battle between their own Archer and the "Red" Saber, it was an undeniable ambush.
Initially, Lancer sat composedly on his throne with a satisfied smile at Archer, who was overwhelming the enemy Saber with power beyond expectations, while Master Fiore watched anxiously, yet captivated by the power and effect of Archer's arrows.
Saber and his Master were retreating. It seemed Archer's debut battle was sufficiently successful—right at that moment.
"ARCHER!"
Along with a ferocious cry, a knight in armor appeared from the distorted edge of space. A bullet-like movement that transcended the very concept of speed became reality, catching the "Black" Masters and their Servants off guard.
A Command Spell, that monstrous lump of magical energy capable of even forcing a Servant to commit suicide, when used in accordance with the Servant's will, functions as a booster assisting their action. The notable point is the scale of its effect. If used in a limited manner, it becomes a force that can even perform miracles.
For example, it is not impossible to elevate simple movement to an extreme form like spatial leap.
As Saber suddenly appeared before Archer, the "Black" Masters uniformly stared in astonishment. Only Darnic, with his experience in Holy Grail Wars, could deduce that a Command Spell had been used. And Darnic knew the situation was bad. Archer, an archer, had been brought into the close-quarters range of Saber, a swordsman.
They had to retreat immediately.
Fiore hadn't yet thought of using a Command Spell to retreat. Should he shout, forcing him to retreat?
While he was thinking that, the "Red" Saber swung his sword at Archer.
Fiore let out a short scream, and Darnic grimaced, certain of Archer's defeat in the next instant.
What scattered was not blood, but sparks.
The expected spurt of fresh blood did not appear; only the hollow sound of clashing iron echoed.
To whom did the astonishment belong?
Not only Saber, who had charged in, but everyone in the "Black" faction watching the scene stared dumbfounded at Archer.
"Twin swords...?" Saber's irritation at having his sure-kill sword strike parley was overwritten by that unbelievable sight.
In the man's hands standing before Saber were not a bow, but a pair of twin swords, black and white Chinese blades.
His composed stance held no openings.
His seasoned instinct told him this was no mere facade of dual-wielding.
"Are you the Saber?"
"Do I look like a Saber to you?"
"No, not at all. So, an archer's gonna challenge me, of all people, to close combat?"
Feeling mocked, Saber regripped the hilt of his beloved sword, observing Archer warily.
"Even an archer may wield a sword occasionally. Worry not, I am no less skilled than any common swordsman."
"Ha— Well said! Prepare yourself, Archer!"
The floor behind Saber gouged out and vanished.
An explosive acceleration. The skill Mana Burst was typically used to boost physical abilities, but this Saber could jet his surplus mana like a rocket, imbuing his single sword strike with extraordinary destructive power.
The raging torrent of mana became crimson lightning, and Saber, transformed into a flash, brought his sword down on Archer without diminishing his momentum.
"OOOOOOOOOH!!"
Saber roared, swinging his sword.
He swung and swung and swung. His slashes exceeded the speed of sound, leaving only moonlit trajectories visible to ordinary eyes. The silver blade swept through the night darkness, the atmosphere torn to shreds, screaming. But it didn't stop. Like a stormy night sea, the raging storm of sword strokes grew fiercer with time.
Yet, the fact that this fierce, relentless assault continued meant its target was still alive.
Archer wielded his twin swords freely, parrying, deflecting, or evading Saber's sword strokes. His hawk-like eyes showed not a hint of cloudiness, coldly reading Saber's attacks.
—What the hell is this guy?!
Saber was undoubtedly the one pushing the offense.
The Saber class itself boasted supremacy in close combat, and in the three Fuyuki Holy Grail Wars, it had a record of surviving until the very end in all of them. With the strict condition that only Heroic Spirits with parameters above a certain rank could be summoned, it was truly the finest class, possessing the flexibility to adapt to all conditions.
And that Saber—could not defeat an archer in close quarters.
Unbelievable. That cannot be allowed. I am the one who succeeds King Arthur Pendragon. The strongest knight who surpasses the famed King of Knights.
The "Red" Saber—Mordred encouraged himself, swinging his sword.
Sometimes straightforwardly, sometimes weaving in technique, aiming for the neck, torso, arms, legs—yet none reached their mark.
Of course, Archer wasn't so sturdy as to emerge unscathed from such a fierce assault. It was precisely because his honed Eye of the Mind continuously derived the optimal solution to counter Saber's attacks that he could maintain this razor-edge battle.
—He's starting to swing too wide.
Right now, Archer was a single ship venturing into a stormy sea. Tossed by the great waves, he concentrated his wisdom and skill moment by moment to find a path to survival.
And to Archer's eyes, also those of a seasoned warrior, flaws began to appear in the enemy Saber's swordsmanship.
It was the very moment he grasped the wind and the ocean current.
"Sei!"
As Saber's downward swing gouged the floor, Archer stepped in, his black yang sword, Kanshou, biting into Saber's armor.
"Damn it!"
Saber snarled, his face hidden beneath his helmet contorting. With high endurance and protected by sturdy armor, a single strike wouldn't deal significant damage. But being cut by an archer in close combat severely wounded Saber's pride.
"GRRAAAAAAH!"
Crimson lightning ran out in all directions with his roar. It should be the Mana Burst skill, but the released mana seemed to change according to Saber's nature.
"Gh...!"
The massive mana alone carried physical impact. Archer stepped back to create distance. However, that slight retreat only gained him a distance Saber could close in a single step, and the white yin sword, Bakuya, which had received the upward slash from below, was sent flying backward.
Fundamentally, Saber and Archer were in different leagues in terms of Strength. A direct clash would mean certain defeat for Archer; he had managed by skillfully redirecting the impact. But this time, having directly received Saber's Mana Burst-enhanced slash, he couldn't fully deflect it.
"Shaa! Prepare yourself!"
Twin swords were inferior to two-handed swords in reach. In exchange, they were nimble and allowed for more strikes. Therefore, a dual-wielder on the defensive possessed defensive power like a towering fortress wall, but if one of the two swords was disabled, the defense would drop to less than half, literally becoming one-handed.
Archer blocked Saber's sword with his remaining Kanshou. Archer's posture broke from the impact. Got him. The moment Saber was convinced, his intuition skill denied it.
"Kuh...!"
He twisted his body before visually confirming it. The white sword, which should have been sent flying, passed through the spot where Saber's neck had been an instant before.
"Impossible."
Ignoring Saber's astonishment, Archer pressed his pursuit. They exchanged about three blows before mutually creating distance. Saber to recover from his shock and analyze the enemy; Archer because he disliked delving too deep against Saber. They checked each other's condition, then confirmed their own.
—I surpass him in both parameters and swordsmanship. There's no reason a mere archer should push me. He uses strange tricks, but if I deal with him calmly, he's an opponent I can behead. My mana is abundant. I'll press the attack in one go and crush him.
—High endurance, full-body armor. Half-hearted attacks won't penetrate. Above all, that Mana Burst. A direct hit would take my bones along with my sword. My body is fine, but how to break through?
Their thoughts took seconds. The standoff didn't last long; the resumption of battle commenced without any warning.
Saber attacked; Archer defended.
The structure remained unchanged from the beginning. The battle situation reached a stalemate. Saber, attacking with the pride of a swordsman, versus Archer, understanding his inferiority in swordsmanship, fortifying a steadfast defense. Dozens, hundreds of sword strokes were exchanged, yet a fierce exchange where neither gave an inch unfolded.
"Who the hell are you, archer? I don't know anyone who can hold their ground this well against me!"
"Now, where might I be from? I'm not too sure about that myself."
"Bullshit!"
Saber's sword knocked Archer's sword away. But by the time Saber launched a second strike, Archer had already re-established a perfect defense. Just how many Noble Phantasms was he hiding? And all of them the same Noble Phantasm? A twin sword with a duplication ability?
Having crossed swords this much, Saber could also see Archer's sword. This sword was the polar opposite of Saber Mordred's, a sword genius. It was the ultimate realm reached through desperate, death-defying effort by one without talent.
The kind of effort that made one vomit blood was to Saber's liking, but just how many hellish battles had he endured to attain such sword skill? While letting his thoughts drift to his opponent's past, Saber did not cease swinging his sword.
While Saber was pondering Archer's past, Archer, as if precisely timed, was also thinking of Saber.
Because he recognized the sword his enemy wielded.
The "Red" Saber's fighting style was brimming with wildness, prioritizing instinct over accumulated skill. Yet, simultaneously, a knightly sword coexisted within it. Beast and knight. Two incompatible sensibilities took root within this swordsman in an exquisite balance. And at its foundation—the part one could call his swordsmanship philosophy—Archer felt a sense of nostalgia.
Yes, this sword closely resembled hers—Saber Artoria's sword.
From the time he was still a child spouting unripe ideals. The memory of her, whom he met on that fateful night, shone brilliantly, unfaded within his memory worn down by despair and madness.
The two Heroic Spirits summoned by the irregularity known as the Great Holy Grail War.
Saber and Archer, born in different eras, raised in different environments, ironically looked up to the same teacher.
One was born a genius with the sword, absorbing the sword he admired completely into himself.
One was born without talent for the sword, spending his entire life reaching out for it, even knowing it was beyond his grasp.
They simply wanted to reach King Arthur, Artoria.
The origin of both lay solely in this single point.
Two people who dreamed of the same sword, clashing across time. What a fate.
But the dream's banquet could not last forever.
The swordplay that felt like an eternity seemed like a fleeting moment once the swords stopped.
As the sun began to rise and the sky started to lighten, they distanced themselves, as if by mutual agreement.
"For an archer, you're pretty damn good."
"As I said. I am no less skilled than any common swordsman."
Saber appeared uninjured. Archer had lacerations all over his body, but they were all superficial.
This was, after all, merely a preliminary skirmish. There was no need to rush for a conclusion. At least, on Archer's side. But for Saber, having failed to overwhelm with swordsmanship despite being a sword-wielding Heroic Spirit, and having consumed one Command Spell, he wanted Archer's head.
"We've come this far. You'll keep me company until the end, Archer."
His face was hidden by his helmet, but Saber's fighting spirit hadn't waned; if anything, he seemed exhilarated.
But Archer did not entertain him. Fiore had ordered him to return soon. More importantly, if he kept engaging Saber any longer, he would eventually be defeated.
"Sorry, but I cannot accept that invitation. I'll be taking my leave here."
Before Saber could retort "What?", Archer threw three projected daggers, stabbing them into the ground at Saber's feet.
Ignoring the leaping Saber, Archer uttered a spell.
"Broken Phantasm."
Instantly, an intense flash covered the rooftop. The daggers had simultaneously exploded. The floor, already severely damaged by their battle and unusable as a roof, easily collapsed.
"Wha... Archer! You bastard!"
Saber, falling along with the rubble, and Archer, turning spiritual and withdrawing from the front lines.
"AAAAAARCHER!!"
Saber's cry was in vain; the departed Archer did not return.
The first to greet Archer upon his return to the Millennium Castle Fortress was not his Master Fiore, nor the king Lancer, nor his Master Darnic.
It was the boy who could be mistaken for a girl, with his long pink hair tied up.
"Welcome back, Archer! Fighting that Saber in close combat was amazing!"
The curious Rider spoke to Archer with an innocent, cheerful smile.
"And that arrow! That's your Noble Phantasm, right? What's its story? Can you tell me?"
Evading Rider's pressing questions, Archer asked to be allowed to go to his Master first.
"Ah, right. How forgetful of me. I should go see her first. Sorry for holding you up."
"Don't worry about it, Rider. We can talk another time."
"Alright, see you later!"
Rider saw him off with a likable smile. On his way to Fiore, he passed by Saber.
"...That's a good sword," Saber spoke as they passed.
Surprised, Archer still formed a smile on his lips.
"Not as good as yours."
Saber shook his head.
"I meant the skill. A splendid sword, built up straight, without cloudiness."
For Saber, a swordsman, swordsmanship was something he had devoted his life to perfecting. In a way, his entire life was condensed within it. Just what had Saber seen in Archer's sword?
But Saber did not elaborate.
The loyal knight, having said only that, fell silent again at his Master's command, bidding farewell with a glance before leaving.
"You're late."
Those were the first words Archer heard from Fiore upon returning.
She pouted, blaming Archer for his tardiness.
"Fufu, but I'll forgive you. Thank you for coming back safely, Archer."
Her stern expression immediately softened as Fiore praised Archer.
"Yeah, I'm back now. Fiore."
Fiore moved her wheelchair closer to Archer.
"Archer. First, I must apologize to you."
Fiore prefaced with an apologetic look.
"I doubted your capabilities. I never imagined you possessed the skill to engage in close combat with that Saber. Please forgive my ignorance."
Archer had confidently stated from the beginning that he was an excellent Servant. However, his Master Fiore, setting aside his personality, had been half-convinced regarding his combat prowess.
Through today's battle with the "Red" Saber, Fiore learned how utterly mistaken she had been. And she was ashamed of her poor judgment of character.
"Is that all? There's no need to apologize. The Great Holy Grail War is still in its early stages. Many Servants haven't experienced the battlefield yet, and their combat abilities can only be known through numbers. Therefore, your assessment of me was a result of reasonable judgment."
"But..."
"I just fought the enemy Saber. The result represents a part of my actual capability. What matters is how you judge based on what you saw."
Archer was telling her to judge based on reality, not superficial numbers. And Archer's reality was that he could fight a high-ranking Servant on their own terms to a draw, and within his own domain, fire guided projectiles with the power reminiscent of an Anti-Army Noble Phantasm. More than sufficient combat power. To top it off, in this battle, he had forced the enemy Master to consume one Command Spell. It was not an overstatement to call it a tactical victory.
Above all, he had made even Lancer acknowledge his trustworthy combat ability. Fiore had no reason not to recognize Archer's power, and the same likely applied to the other Masters and Servants.
Fiore swallowed Archer's words, engraving them in her heart.
It wasn't about acknowledging this Servant. Unless she could become someone worthy of being acknowledged by this Servant, Fiore couldn't confidently call herself Archer's Master.
"Archer. Do you think it was alright for me to be your Master?" Fiore asked anxiously.
"Of course. A mage possessing both the calmness for rational judgment and the kindness to care for her younger brother. I find no negative aspects in your character; you are more than sufficient as a Master to serve."
"I see. That's good."
Relieved that Archer hadn't denied her, Fiore smiled faintly.
"Then, please continue to take care of me from now on, Archer."
"Yeah, I offer this bow and sword to you. I look forward to working with you, Fiore."
Archer grasped the hand Fiore offered.
At that moment, the two truly became Master and Servant.
The battle between the "Black" Archer and the "Red" Saber concluded with the "Black" Archer's tactical victory. However, this was merely a preliminary skirmish. Not a single Servant had been eliminated, and both factions were steadily preparing for war.
The true Holy Grail War was yet to come.