Specks of light flickered as several powerful streams of magical energy converged.
A peculiar suit of golden armor reflected no light, instead emanating a gentle glow, like the sun's benevolence.
Short white hair danced in the wind, skin pale as if afflicted by illness, wielding a golden lance. In contrast to the armor's feel, the lance in hand embodied another aspect, akin to thunder.
Clad in black skintight clothing, with what seemed like a gem embedded at the chest.
"Those words cannot be ignored. Though I cannot declare my name as the three of you have, and it's regrettable we cannot fight honorably, it is the greatest honor to gather with you all. I am Lancer."
One of the three knights, the Knight of the Lance—Lancer!
"Hahaha! No matter, I too consider meeting you the utmost honor. Have you considered submitting to me?"
Rider laughed heartily, addressing Lancer.
"I must decline!"
Lancer refused calmly and succinctly.
"Well, that's a shame!"
Rider shrugged; he was used to it.
Rider glanced around once more, surprised to see only one more Servant had appeared. A hint of disbelief crossed his face as he roared again: "No way! Is the glory of past heroes so feeble? Not even enough to draw you all out? Fine! This is a gathering of heroes—cowards need not attend!"
"Oh man, that's harsh, no way! Can you really put up with that?"
"...Aren't you too idle? Other Masters plan to lurk and wait, striking like vipers for a fatal blow. What the hell are you doing?"
"Nothing, just messing with you for fun!"
"...Look, another Servant has appeared!"
Just as everyone thought it was over, a torrent of magical energy surged from nowhere—something no one anticipated. It was a pitch-black, ominous flow of spiritrons.
Amid stares of surprise or confusion, the upward-swirling magic gradually solidified, forming a defiant, unyielding figure.
The shadow stood about two blocks further up the mountain from the courtyard where Archer and Assassin's battlefield lay. Indeed, his form could only be described as a shadow.
He was tall and broad-shouldered, fully encased in armor. But unlike Lancer's peculiar golden armor that seemed to offer no real protection, it was more akin to Assassin's full heavy plate.
This Servant's armor was black. Like Assassin's, it lacked ornate decorations or polished shine.
Yet, unlike the sense of tranquility Assassin's armor evoked, this was an extreme blackness like hell itself, with even his face concealed by a helmet. From the narrow slits, only a chilling crimson glow emanated, like eyes burning with infernal fire.
Without doubt, this was the fifth Servant.
But what kind of Heroic Spirit could possess such an ominous form?
The Heroic Spirits present all possessed elements of glory—their radiance as legends forged by admiration and aspiration, the honors that made them noble phantasms.
Archer, Rider, Lancer, even Assassin—each had their own brilliance, the glory of Heroic Spirits.
But the newly arrived black knight lacked those elements. Not only did he have no heroic honor, but his entire being radiated a palpably negative aura. Rather than a Heroic Spirit, he seemed more like a vengeful wraith.
"King of Conquerors, aren't you going to try recruiting him?"
Kingu had long been displeased with Rider and took the opportunity to mock him.
Rider frowned at the words, smiling bitterly. "Recruit him? Even if I wanted to, he's not the type you can talk to."
The black knight before them exuded nothing but unadulterated killing intent. Even the whirlwind of his magical energy felt like a curse of resentment, chilling to the bone merely to behold.
Berserker—everyone recognized him. Such a wave of perilous killing intent could only belong to a Heroic Spirit lost to madness.
"It's him!"
Roman instantly recognized this as the Servant who had attacked the mansion about a year ago, though now his aura was even more terrifying, enough to make one's skin crawl.
"So, kid, what rank does that guy hold among Servants?"
At Rider's question, Waver stared for a moment, his expression turning to horror as sweat beaded on his face. He shook his head stiffly. "I don't know. I can't tell at all."
"What? You're my Master, at least. You should be able to see what he's good at, what he's not."
Once contracted as a Master to a Heroic Spirit, one was granted clairvoyance to perceive other Servants' parameters. The Holy Grail War summoned Heroic Spirits and bestowed this unique ability only upon Masters.
This allowed Rider's Master, Waver, to compare Rider's abilities against others and devise strategies to tilt the battle in their favor. So far, Waver had grasped the ones before him... well, actually, he hadn't discerned anyone's attributes yet. Notably, he could see Lancer's parameters, but they made no sense—his five-dimensional stats were all "—", utterly incomprehensible.
"I just can't see it. That black one's definitely a Servant, but I can't get any info on him."
No matter how Waver looked, he couldn't view his parameters; everything was obscured.
The black armor showed no distinct features or personality, nothing to hint at his identity. In fact, the more he looked, the less clear it became, growing fuzzier.
Even his exact form was indistinct, like a blurred projection. The black armor's outline constantly shifted, sometimes doubling or tripling in overlap, making the figure feel illusory. This illusion affected not just sight but the Master's clairvoyance as well.
"What about the others?"
Rider pressed.
"Uh... I can't see any of them..."
"What?"
Rider began to suspect Waver might be a fake Master.
After all, failing to see one could mean a Noble Phantasm or curse at play, but failing all? That had to be the Master's fault!
It couldn't be that they all had such abilities... right?
As it turned out... they did.
One could say that, currently, Rider had exposed the most information on the field.
The others all possessed some means of concealment.
But Rider and Waver didn't know that. Rider had just complained, while Waver genuinely began doubting his own competence.
And in truth... no need to doubt; Waver was indeed the weakest among the proper Masters in this Holy Grail War. Only Ryunosuke Uryuu was weaker than him.
***
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