The winds of battle blew into the forest earlier than anticipated.
The Berserker, clad in black armour, howled to the sky, squeezing out fragmented words from his chaotic soul.
Who was he speaking of? What name was he calling out from that twisted, fractured awareness?
Even the most clever strategist could not deduce anything from the scattered clues. But his Master knew all too well.
He had abandoned his pride and dignity, tainted his soul and identity, and degraded himself into this grotesque form, all in pursuit of that one figure.
"Indeed, we really are quite similar..."
A dark-haired figure, wearing a hood to conceal his face, sighed and stretched out his hand, gently pushing the black-armoured knight forward.
"Go ahead, do what need to do."
The Master's strength was so insignificant, but the Servant's eyes glowed with red light. Like a cannonball leaving its barrel, the Berserker tore through the air and charged toward the Einzbern Castle.
Behind him, his Master silently turned and disappeared down the path from which they came.
The members of the Einzbern faction gathered again in the meeting room. In front of Kiritsugu, Maiya, and Saber, Irisviel projected the image of the invader captured by the barrier onto a crystal ball.
The black armour swayed silently, and the black mist on the armour seemed to have absorbed enough resentment, wrapping around the branches in the forest.
"Berserker, the Matou family's servant, huh..."
Kiritsugu furrowed his brows.
This was completely different from what he had expected. It should have been someone like Sakatsuki or Kirei who discovered the Einzbern base, not the Matou family. The Matou family and the Einzbern family were both creators of the Holy Grail war, and there was no reason for them to be enemies from the start.
Could it be that Berserker's Master allied with someone?
"Berserker has entered the Area Effect range."
Irisviel's calm voice echoed.
"We need to delay the invader until we evacuate."
She calmly made her conclusion.
Irisviel nodded, signaling to Saber.
"Saber, defeat Berserker."
Saber's reply was short. By the time the others heard her voice, Saber had already vanished from the room. Only the wind she left behind told of her resolve.
The moment Saber left, Kiritsugu, who had been silently preparing his weapons, spoke up.
"Maiya, take Iri and leave the castle. Go in the opposite direction of Saber."
Maiya nodded immediately without hesitation. Irisviel, however, couldn't hide her surprise.
"Can't I... stay here?"
"If Saber is fighting far away, the castle is no longer safe. Someone might have the same idea as me."
After Saber left, there was a chance that someone would attack the Master left in the castle, taking advantage of the situation. If someone wanted to kill the Master, the best opportunity was when the Master and Servant were separated.
Which is easier to deal with, a Master protected by a Servant or one left in the workshop alone? Kiritsugu's judgment led him to choose the latter. Any other magus who came to the same conclusion would target Irisviel, who stayed behind in the castle, seeing that Saber was engaged in combat elsewhere.
After explaining briefly, Kiritsugu secured grenades and bags of cursed bullets beneath his coat straps. His appearance didn't resemble that of a magus preparing for war.
However, anyone who knew him well would understand the psychological preparations he'd made for the impending battle, especially when they saw the single-shot magical gun strapped to his waist.
Irisviel, uneasy after barely having seen her husband before he left to act alone, worried further when she realized Kiritsugu had concealed his unstable mental state. But she knew that even if she accompanied him, she would only be a hindrance.
But there were other factors contributing to her unease.
After calmly reflecting on her feelings, Irisviel understood. It wasn't that she was uneasy about being separated from Kiritsugu, but because she had to act with Maiya.
From Kiritsugu's perspective, he probably wanted Maiya to protect her, but deep down, Irisviel couldn't fully accept it.
Yes, she had felt this way from the start—this silent woman in black, who said nothing and let Kiritsugu handle everything. This was another reason Irisviel felt uneasy.
In today's meeting, Kiritsugu had shown a cold and ruthless side, even someone like Irisviel, who had been with him for nine years, could sense fear and even disgust.
There was no human decency or magus's duty, only a tactical approach to survival based on the law of the jungle, like a killing machine. After abandoning the warmth she cherished, every word and action Kiritsugu showed made Irisviel feel unfamiliar with him.
But in this meeting, Maiya was unfazed, remaining completely silent. For Maiya, this might be the real Kiritsugu—the one she was most familiar with.
Would the person closest to Kiritsugu now not be his wife, but Maiya...?
Irisviel wondered if she harboured feelings of jealousy, but of course, she wouldn't be so childish to let such personal emotions get in the way of her judgment.
As she nodded in resignation, a new sharp pain ran through her magical circuits.
It was new feedback from the forest's surveillance barrier.
"…Kiritsugu, someone else has entered."
Saber became a silver gust of wind, speeding through the forest.
The dispute with Kiritsugu had already been forgotten. Once she was on the battlefield, her spirit was like a sword. A sword that could cleave through anything, pure and untainted, with no hesitation or confusion.
Even though her left hand was still injured, her most trusted weapon was never a Noble Phantasm, but her conviction.
The girl's heart had always been full of glory, and she fought with her honour in mind.
With that unwavering belief, even the White Dragon perched on the Isle of Britain has fallen slain before her holy sword.
With the speed that allowed her to cover several kilometres in just a few minutes, soon, the black-armoured Berserker was in her sight.
The heavy but agile armour brought her an immense sense of familiarity. It was the type of armour that only those who had fought alongside her on the battlefield would wear—a symbol of honour, a form of identification.
That was the knight, the noble one of the battlefield.
But the figure before her, Saber would never acknowledge him as a knight.
A true knight must stand tall and proud, illuminating the battlefield with their presence. They must restore honour and dignity to those who have fallen into the hellish abyss, making them human again. This was the knight's responsibility, one that outweighed personal anger, sorrow, pain, and suffering.
But the Berserker before her was at best a beast bound in knight's armor.
Just as she would when facing any monster, the King of Knights did not announce her name.
She just raised her holy sword, declaring coldly.
And so, the black-armoured beast charged from afar, while the golden-haired knight rushed towards him.
They faced off, and the battle began!
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