3086/Unfortunate Events

Unfortunate Events
Date of Scene:	23 September 2015
Location:	Galianda
Synopsis:	Fake Avenger seeks out Red Saber for a fight with every intention to kill!
Cast of Characters:	626, 662, 880

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Kyra Hyral (626) has posed:
    THE WORLD OF GALIANDA...

    Steeped in magic and brimming with humans, the Great Span remains as busy as ever, conveying travelers from Plate to Plate as well as serving as the entry point for off-worlders. The gate remains a permanent fixture to one of the solid blocks of the Great Span and while the Span will move, never does the Gate find itself opening up to the empty space between the Plates.

    It is here Kyra Hyral and her new Servant Saber will find themselves, traveling on foot for any new visitors to Galianda simply have to have the experience of walking the Span and discovering that the time spent doing so is magically shortened by the haste lamps present. Although warned by the wary Prince of Ramuh, Kyra still wanted to bring Saber to her world. "We'll visit Alexander Academy first." she tells the blonde, seemingly unbothered by Saber's choice of dress even though it immediately earns the stares of those nearby. "Then maybe we'll drop by Ramuh a little. You've proooobably /never/ seen a city like Ramuh. If yo like lightning and neon, you'll /love/ it."

    The shock of yesterday's summoning has worn off, replaced by a sort of wary excitement.

Red Saber (880) has posed:
     And step through the gate Saber does. Accompanying her new Master, she looks left, right, up, and down. Taking in the various immediate sights that Galianda has to offer. "I see. So this is your world." She brings a hand to her chin, the other keeping that arm propped up at the elbow. "Fascinating. This is nothing like Earth at all!"

     The blonde woman spread her arms as she stepped forward. "Perfect! Beautiful! This will serve as wonderful inspiration for my next piece!" What piece? "A world built upon the idea that everyone can do something, and that prana is available to all? What an exciting thought! It must be quite a world where magic is universally available and permeates through society as a whole!"

     And then a smirk finds it's way onto Saber's face. "Yes, this is good! Very good!" The Servant nodded to herself, apparently pleased with some invisible criteria known only to her. Whether she was aware of the stares her choice of dress was getting her, she didn't acknowledge it.

     She knew was she was wearing. She wasn't ashamed. An emperor has no need for a silly concept such as /shame/!

     "You have explained briefly before, but allow me to reiterate; Alexander Academy is a school where children such as yourself go to learn how to harness their abilities to the utmost level possible, yes?" Saber looks towards Kyra at that. "What is the end goal however? Such rigorous magical and physical education...are you perhaps soldiers? Off to fight in some war?"

     Ironic, considering what she was.

Fake Avenger (662) has posed:
     A long, long time ago, a man was called into the Wish-Granting War by a woman. She named him, bound him to a gate, and bid him slay anyone who dared to step across it. And, by the power of the Holy Grail, he was forced to obey, though he yearned to split her from skull to sternum and watch her die. That was before the whole world collapsed around him, crumbling into rust, dust, ash, and rot. That was so long ago it dwarfed human understanding, a timespan that encompassed whole civilizations.

     It has not been since that day that anyone has asked the Nameless Swordsman to kill another.

     The crowd of the Great Span parts. Between the people, he walks, as though they were no more than raindrops. An instant ago, neither Kyra nor Saber could feel anything, but there he is, clear as day, walking towards them. A purple tuxedo wraps around his slender body like a holy shroud. A sword, nearly as long as the man himself, hangs over his shoulder, sheathed and bound. A skull-topped cane is bound horizontally behind his waist, like a short-sword's sheathe.

     None of this is unusual on Galianda.

     But the scars are. The black scars, or tattoos, or whatever they are, that criss-cross his body, etched like stonecarvings. They seem to writhe, wriggle, thrash, breathe, changing subtly with every motion of his body. The scars seem *living*, but not alive in the way that an organic creature is - rather, alive in some way that scratches itelf across the surface of reality, something that can't be constrained by things like angles, or logic, or physics. To Saber it is apparent as day that this man is a Servant, and that there is something wildly, woefully, *painfully* wrong about him. He is an aberration, a...a /wrongness/, an *infection*. Something that shouldn't exist.

     The man stops before the two. He doesn't announce himself. He doesn't need to.

     Behind him, struggling against the crowd (and clearly not blessed with the same degree of natural talent) is a tall black man in a skull mask, with a handsome black tuxedo and top hat. He grunts and squeezes past the bystanders, stopping slightly behind the man in purple.

     The man in the skull mask whistles.

     "Get a load of those," he admires in a strong Cajun accent, "Hope the Brown Saber is that fine, huh? Hey, maybe you should recruit her, Master. Be a shame to kill such a lovely."

     The top-hatted man also doffs his hat to Kyra. "Hello again, pretty lady. Sorry you got all mixed-up in this. If'n it makes any difference, don't think of this personally, eh? It's just business."

     "An' if it's all the same to you I'd rather go for pleasure, yeah?" He leers at the ladies, "But you know my Master. He just don't know how to relax an' have a good time. The only sword he thinks about is the one on his back."

Kyra Hyral (626) has posed:
    "Nope! Nothing at all! For one, our Sun isn't a big gigantic, immobile bomb. In fact there he goes right now-" Kyra points off in the distance to firey flicker of Phoenix as he flies over the massively towering mountain of Titan. Kyra herself watches Saber out of the corner of her eye, remembering her previous aspirations to conquer every world out there under her banner. Of course, that meant she had to discuss with Saber what might happen when such aspirations were leveled at Galianda but she'd cross that bridge when she needed to.

    "That's right, that's exactly right." Kyra responds to the assessment of Alexander Academy. "Well, some are going to go into the militaries of their respective Plates, no doubt, and although their is a war currently going on, the Academy's purpose is not to train for it. But with the advanced skills graduates obtain, they're expected to advance in their respective fields and crush even greater challenges-unknown dungeons, dangerous monsters, macroeconomics. Serious challenges like that. If you're looking for a full-blooded military training academy, there's one on Odin. It's needed because Odin's filled with endlessly-spawning golems that hate flesh."

    She starts to reach for her phone, eager to show Saber some pictures of Odin when a sick feeling grips her stomach. This, of course, happens at the exact moment that Kojirou reveals himself. Although the dress he's chosen today is radically different from what she's typically seen him sporting in their past encounters, there's no mistaking him for someone else. Abruptly, Kyra stops walking to stare at him, further unnerved by his silence.

    "...what are /you/ doing here?" Kyra asks though she has a pretty good idea what the answer is. She herself isn't sure which Grail War her Saber belongs to but even if that was a Grail War unrelated to whatever world Kojirou hailed from, it wouldn't really matter.

    Her mood darkens just a little as Caster of Brown shows up. "Yeah, no, sorry, but she's /taken/." Kyra drawls a little possessively.

Red Saber (880) has posed:
     "Oh my! Is the sun /moving/?" Saber's eyes widened a tad as she looked off into the distance, watching the 'sun' for a moment. And then she turns her attention back to her Master, nodding along to the explanation of the end intentions of such involved training. "I see, I see...fascinating!" Saber mused casually, a smile on her face suggesting that she was pleased with the answer. "Young souls tempering their spirits and then rising up to lead the way towards a better future! I love it! Fantastic! Brilliant!"

     So dramatic, this one.

     At that moment, a sudden feeling of /wrongness/ washed over the blonde Servant. "...!" She immediately turns her attention towards the unidentified man and his...companion. Two Servants. The one up front was....there was something definitely wrong about him. He was definitely a Servant, but...she could sense magic. Magic in the form of a crest, as well as Command Spells.

     /Strange/.

     "Praetor, behind me." Saber speaks calmly, narrowing her eyes as she stepped in front of her Master. The man in the mask gets a smirk. "Recruit me? While I am not surprised that you would recognize greatness when it stands before you, I am already currently contracted."

     Saber made no moves, and remained on guard. "I did not expect to run into fellow Servants so soon." Her gaze alternated between both men. "Who sent you?"

Fake Avenger (662) has posed:
     Caster of Brown's leer widens. "Hey, I'm jes' sayin', I'm up for that sorta-"

     His words are cut short as Avenger slides the skull-tipped cane from his belt. Caster of Brown groans. "N, no! C'mon, not my-"

     "Reinforcement," Kojirou murmurs. Black, sick-looking energy rolls over the cane, lashing around it like a binding. The mud-like goo drips off the cane as Kojirou holds it before him in the manner of a swordsman. It looks a little bit silly to the untrained eye, a man brandishing a black-dripping cane like a deadly weapon. He swings it down to his side. Is he leaving himself open?

     "Not my Banda," Caster of Brown groans, rubbing the sides of his head, "Not my Banda! C'mon!"

     Kojirou, notably, actually waits until the crowd of bystanders has cleared (which doesn't take too long - people on Galianda aren't idiots). He doesn't answer Saber's question immediately. The serene smile on his face is almost inhumanly peaceful as he looks off to the side, over the side of the big bridge.

     "I send myself," Avenger replies, "I want to see your strength, Saber who looks like that Saber from long ago. I can already see that you aren't the Battlefield's Lily."

     There's a distant sigh on his lips as he continues staring off into the vast sky. "Still...perhaps you'll be worth of my blade. Show me your skill, Saber."

     "Fight for your life, or you are most assuredly going to die."

     "He, he's not kiddin'," Caster of Brown observes, moving backwards, "If I was you I'd surrender your Command Spells to 'im now. Save you both the pain an' the trouble."

     Kojirou says nothing. He's not even *looking* at the Empress. Surely, what could be more interesting than her? And what sort of vagabond challenges someone to a fight, pulls out a cane, and then stops looking at their opponent! How rude!

Kyra Hyral (626) has posed:
    "Yes." Kyra says, unashamedly proud of her own world and its own properties in this moment. "Yes he is."

    Being a hormone-filled teenager, Kyra actually has some idea where Caster of Brown may be going with this one. Fortunately, Kojirou's seriousness cuts off any opportunity for Kyra to make a return lewd remark about that.

    Of course, she needs little encouragement from Saber to take cover. Smoothly, she steps behind the Servant. Already, a few words are murmured beneath her breath, white light gathering faintly in her palm before she reaches for the back of Saber's left shoulder. Her palm is smoothed against it, the magic passed along with a whisper: "Protect." Her own 'reinforcement' spell is clearly visible for those few moments, materializing as a green crystaline shield that fades. She takes another step back from the Servant afterwards, withdrawing one of her guns from beneath her hoodie.

    "No, I'm not surrending anything to this guy. Saber, kill him."

Red Saber (880) has posed:
     "Hmph."

     Saber smirks at the main Servant challenging her. She eyes the cane, apparently a belonging of the Servant behind him. Caster perhaps? That would explain the odd cane. But who knows. He could be Assassin and that could be a hidden sword.

     "So you send yourself. Very well. I will not run from any challenge. I commend you for come at me head on. In respect to your earnest desire..." She spread her stance, arms coming together at one side, as if holding a blade. "...I will meet your challenge in kind!"

     At those words, a plume of flame bursts to life in Saber's hands. It writhes, twists, and turns, forming an otherworldly shape. A demonic sword of crimson and black. Forged not for man, but for a fiend.

     Aestus Estus - The Embryonic Flame

     The symbol of the Ruler's might. The mark of the Tyrant. Cloaked in an everlasting flame, the sword glows brightly, waiting to bathe in the blood of Saber's enemies.

     "Now, opponent of mine; let us have a battle that will go down in history!"

     Feeling Kyra's spell effect her, Saber nodded, smirk still on her face. "Of course, Praetor. I shall show these miscreants the folley of their actions!"

     Prana gathered around her, intensifying Aestus Estus' glow.

     The calm before the storm.

     And in a burst of speed, the Crimson Tyrant descends, blade in hand. An abrupt stop is had, just before Avenger, and Saber swung. A flash of red flame follows horizontally, aiming to reap the Servant where he stood.

Fake Avenger (662) has posed:
     Kojirou says nothing. He barely turns his eyes away from the world beyond. The blue sky is enrapturing to him, after all. It's been so long since he's been able to see a blue sky, and never from such an angle, such a height. It doesn't matter that it's an alien world. The blue sky is always friend to Kojirou Sasaki.

     "Hey!" Caster of Brown warns, "They're usin' reinforcements! Let me hel-"

     Kojirou silences him with a wave of his hand. Caster of Brown crosses his arms and shakes his head. "Nothin' but a taxi to 'im..."

     The battle is joined. Saber charges, speed and fire, elegant and magnificent. The demonic sword's heat roars along the bridge as she sweeps towards Avenger, hesitating only for an instant to get into position.

     In that instant the position is lost. The dripping-black Banda sweeps upwards to meet the blazing sword. Caster of Brown covers his eyes, rather than watch the impact-

     -which never comes. As elegant as a leaf, Kojirou's strike nudges the blazing sword slightly off-course as he sidesteps onto the edge of the Great Span, perching on the handrail. There's no ringing impact, no clanging of metal on metal. It's just a single tap in the right place. For an ordinary swordsman - even for a *great* swordsman - that should be utterly impossible.

     Kojirou makes it look as elegant and effortless as the wind.

     Then he's not on the handrail anymore. He slides around behind the Crimson Tyrant, still brandishing the cane like a short sword. He takes it in both hands, drawing it upwards in a diagonal slash as he takes a single step to lend it strength.

     Red Saber may find that that cane isn't nearly as blunt as it appears if she isn't careful. Banda is perfectly capable of drawing blood...and who knows what that black ink does?

     "Don't hesitate," Kojirou lectures, sounding almost bored, "Commit in the moment you charge. Stopping to right yourself creates a gap anyone can exploit."

     "You aren't an amateur, are you?"

Kyra Hyral (626) has posed:
    "...Avenger." Kyra slaps her forehead, "That's right, he's an Avenger. Which isn't a standard Servant Class at /all/. I'm not sure what the purpose of it is but Kojirou has a habit of getting up in everyone's business!" At Caster's complaining of assistance, Kyra sticks out her tongue at him. "Our lives are on the line! This isn't some kind of honor duel!" As she speaks, she appears to be loading her gun-the spring-loaded dart gun to be specific. "Though to be honest I am kind of surprised he's not letting you help. We could finish what we started in the sewers that one time."

    Very aware that she herself could become a target at any moment, Kyra casts Protect on herself moments later, before turning her attention to the fight itself.

    Calmly, with her gun in one hand, she slips the other around her phone, holding it up one-handed as she starts to record the fight. She doesn't bother with livestreaming it either-this is entirely for her own benefit.

Red Saber (880) has posed:
     "...!?"

     Avenger is fast. Her strike, even slightly delayed due to the stop, misses it's mark completely. An amatuer mistake. Or perhaps this was the Emperor's true skill?

     No.

     No Way.

     She was summoned as Saber.

     She had the skill!

     And yet, there she was, taking a slash in the back and falling forward. "Gah...!" The blonde Servant fell forward, dropping to one knee before she flopped to the ground in an undignified manner. Aestus Estus being used to prop herself up, Saber glared behind herself at her opponent.

     Thankfully, Kyra's Protect spell lessened the damage from grievous cleave to light slash. Still, blood ran down her back all the same.

     'Are you an amatuer?'

     The question earns Saber's ire. "How dare you." With renewed vigor, she stood. "I am a master swordsman! Even the goddess Bellona trembles in fear at the grace in which my blade dances!" The Crimson Tyrant retakes her stance. Prana gathers once more.

     But something was different.

     It was Avenger's turn to sense something amiss.

     Together with Prana, an unknown force seeped into Saber's form. Crimson particles forming and flowing into her body. Yet, she did not get obviously stronger, no.

     It all became clear when she dove into the fray again.

     A single slash. Two slashes. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. With each swing, Saber's movements became smoother, faster, stronger. There was no hesitation in her movements. No amatuerish flourishes or obvious openings.

     If she were an amatuer before, suddenly, it was like she actually /did/ become a master swordsman.

     Swings become a blur, turning into a storm of flame that encroaches upon Avenger almost at all angles.

Fake Avenger (662) has posed:
     "Yeah, well, I like not jus' bein' part of the scenery!" Caster of Brown grumbles, "No matter how pretty I am." He raises two fingers in the PEACE sign in the direction of the recording, then surges past the two fighters, moving next to Kyra. Oh, right - even *Casters* are superhuman fast!

     "I don't think you wanna shoot that dart, pretty lady," Caster of Brown observes, "I think you wanna put that dart down right now. You know why?"

     He points at the retreating firebird of the sun. "'cause that thing is about to go past," his finger trails down, "That big-ass mountain, you see, an' that's gonna make a shadow so big even I'm not sure what it'll look like. But you can bet your bottom dollar it'll fall over us."

     "Wanna see what happens when it does?" Samedi's eyes flicker with excitement.

     Meanwhile, Kojirou is fascinated. The moment of Saber's change is as easy for him to see as if she had held up a blazing, burning sign. She goes in an instant from someone he can dance around to a master. Perhaps she couldn't truly challenge the gods - and on that Kojirou made no judgements, as he had never fought a god, no matter how much he might've liked to - but she was clearly not a rank amateur.

     She doesn't wait. She presses, hard. Fire fills the air as her blade comes downwards, clashing against the wooden Banda - and here Kojirou cannot simply parry them aside and turn them like leaves. Here he uses both hands, thumb hooked around the cane at both ends, crashing the black mud against the burning hellstorm. Black goo splatters everywhere as Kojirou is forced to step backwards, each slash forcing him back a bit further. The flames lick at his skin, lashing at his tuxedo - which is most certainly a Holy Shroud, though how such an unholy creature came by it is a mystery. If he could sweat, he would be sweating.

     One of the slashes gets through his defense, slicing into his shoulder around the Banda's blind spot. It cauterizes instantly, but in the split second before he bleeds and the split second after the wound is sealed, both Kyra and Nero might get a glimpse of it - the black, ichorous blood that runs through his false veins is identical to the mud wrapped around the Banda.

Fake Avenger (662) has posed:
     Kojirou skips backwards, his lips pursing upwards into a smile. He can feel his heart beating a bit faster. Yes, this was it. Daring the edge of life and death, pressing himself against destruction. This was how he lived. This was how he loved. This was how he *appreciated life*! This was Heaven!

     Kojirou taps the mud-soaked Banda over his shoulder. His palms are blackened from the heat. "Interesting. You went from a rank amateur to a skilled swordsman in the span of an instant. I wonder if it's because I noticed your lack of skill..."

     Kojirou's smile widens. "What happens if I press harder? Will you become even more skilled? Will you truly be someone who can challenge the gods?"

     "I want to see it. Let's press you further, beautiful flower, between the pages of this book, and see what imprint you leave upon me."

     "Reinforcement." Saber and Kyra both get a sense of the immense depths of Kojirou's power, the ocean of mana being forced into that tiny frame, as Kojirou reinforces his own body, his eyes, his reflexes, everything. Superhuman attributes spike even higher. But that's not the surprising thing.

     The surprising thing is when Kojirou next opens his mouth.

     "Mad Enhancement."

     The black scars and lines across his body shudder and shift, twitching along Kojirou's form. Again there is the appearance of a living thing, the strange and impossible undulation of that which SHOULD only be ink or scars as they arrange themselves into new patterns. The black flecks in his eyes twitch and shift in the process.

     And then his killing intent goes dead.

     Saber can feel nothing at all. No killing intent. No aura. No ki. No...*soul*. Where a moment ago Kojirou's fighting spirit was intense and brutal, now there's nothing. Just a dead spot, like a machine.

     The machine moves.

     No, *moves* is the wrong term. To say he *moves* is to undermine the act. Every step of his feet, from the first two to build speed to the third where he launches himself, is precise and mechanical. The whole of the Great Span seems to shake as he lunges. But as he arrives at Saber, the terrifying deadness of his eyes and his smile is perhaps not as bad as the precision with which his cane moves.

     There is no brutality here, no wild ravenings of a lunatic. There is no furious swinging as might characterize a Berserker. Each strike of the cane whistles through the air fast enough to carve through the sky. The mere shockwave displaces air like a lethal strike, sharp enough to cut through skin and bone. And the most frightening part is that this is not his swordsmanship. This is not a secret skill, or a Noble Phantasm.

     This is the strength of Mad Enhancement, Reinforced by a magic spell, accompanied by skill so precise as to be without the slightest hint of emotion to impair his judgement. This is inhuman. This is...a machine.

     A killing machine.

Kyra Hyral (626) has posed:
    "Oh, I don't want to shoot this dart either. I want Saber to beat Kojirou's face in." Kyra tells Caster in a casual tone, "But I know a thing or two about how the whole Master-Servant thing works and I remember what he did to YOUR previous Master. If he aggros on me, I'm going to be /ready/." She gives Caster a toothy grin, filing the threat away as useful information. Her phone-holding arm loops around him for a few seconds, pointing the camera up at them. Kyra grins.

    "Smile!" she says before she takes a selfie of them together.

    She switches to recording the fight right away afterwards, even though the fire is starting to obscure the fight quite a bit. It does, quite clearly, show Kojirou more or less bleeding nasty-looking mud that is also getting flung all over the place. Mentally, she makes a note to take a sample /after/ the fight.

    It is with a bit of dread that she realizes Kojirou was holding back. She almost really does let Saber use that Noble Phantasm-but no, too early for that to happen. Can't reveal THAT much of the skillset..yet.

    Unwinding her arm from around Caster, she takes one sidestep away from him and lifts the phone up, as if recording, for a second before she stashes it in her pocket and waves her hand promptly at the pair. Magic Particles flow from Kyra, channeled into her white magic, and focused into the buff-stripping: "Dispell!" Though she can sense it doing something, it definitely does not feel as if that Berserker-like ability was shut off by it.

Red Saber (880) has posed:
    

     The storm of flame clashes with the enemy, a strike finds purchase. And Saber can spy, for an instant, the same black mud coating his cane appears to run through his very body.

     What manner of devilry?

     If Saber could stand against the gods, then she wouldn't have needed to cheat her way into the Saber class. But that's not something to talk about right now.

     Nonetheless, her pride would not allow her to do /any less/ than the best. Therefore, Avenger's provocation is met with a confident grin, despite the heat of the battle. "You wish to continue testing me? Very well!" Her blade is raised to one side, held ready.

     "An emperor does not yield! Even in the face of uncertain odds!"

     And yet, those odds just got even more uncertain once Avenger reinforced himself. Saber could sense it. His attributes just spiked again.

     But that wasn't all.

     'Mad Enhancement.'

     Her eyes widened. "...Berserker...!?" No, that wasn't right! This man was not Berserker.

     He /made/ himself Berserker in this moment!

     Did he?

     Regardless, there was no time to think. There was only time to act. The machine was upon her in an instant. Still retaining her abilities, Saber managed to parry away the initial flurry of strikes, creating a blur of red and black as weapons clashed together.

     "Ghk...!"

     With each strike, the Servant's hands rattled. Avenger's blows were like that of a titan! If she held her weapon even slightly wrong, Aestus Estus would be removed from her grasp, and her body cleaved in two. She was a master swordsman in this moment, but she did not have a master swordsman's strength.

     Saber was sorely tempted to deploy her Noble Phantasm, but no. Not yet. Now was not to time to reveal that card. She needed to find an opening with her own two hands.

     Shockwaves tear through the air, rattling Saber's body even with each parry. Each clash brings her closer and closer to failure. Each strike grew closer and closer to finding purchase. It was only a matter of time. "....!" One blow barely nicks her cheek, drawing blood. Another slices through her sleeve, drawing more blood. Another passes her side, and more liquid crimson is the reward.

     Wait for it.

     Wait for it.

     Not yet.

     Not yet...!

     "NOW!"

     Surging with all of her strength, Saber parried Avenger's next blow upwards in a desperate burst of strength. And in the moment following, she reared back. The sound of a key unlocking a door could be heard, and Aestus Estus exploded into flame. Gritting her teeth, the blonde Servant lurched forward in that instant, a flash of furious flame following in the wake of that instantaneous slash.

     "LAUS SAINT CLAUDIUS!"

     And the flame erupted into a glorious, searing blossom of vermillion and white.

Fake Avenger (662) has posed:
     Caster smiles for the picture, because he's an agreeable sort.

     The Dispel wave crashes across Kojirou in mid-strike. He gets slower - noticably slower, for a Servant, though he's still moving substantially faster than a human possibly could. (Kojirou's default Agility is A+, marking him as someone moving over a hundred times faster than an ordinary person - and that's before Mad Enhancement is tagged in!) It's actually hard to track his attacks. Inhumanly difficult. It's not a matter of skill, either. It seems like the true form of his attack just shifts in the middle of each strike. It's like watching claymation, where somebody cut out the stuff between 'attack start' and 'attack finish'. It's nonsense, nonsense that goes beyond ordinary skill. Even in Mad Enhancement, he's unreadable. Inhuman serenity...?

     On the upside, his strikes are no longer producing shockwaves, so that's good!

     That makes all the difference, too. In that instant, Saber dares everything, and breaks the titanic force with cunning and skill. Banda, the wooden cane, goes flying out of Avenger's hands - it is the weakest point, after all, between Saber's demonic sword and the impossible form of Avenger. The cane goes spinning upwards, vanishing from sight.

     She capitalizes, and makes good. Aestus Estus erupts into fire, crashing into Avenger's body. It swells, filling the Great Span with a marvelous, all-consuming flare. It is power unleashed here, pure and simple. Marvelous, magnificent power. Surely it killed him...?

     No.

     In the middle of the flame, there's a pulse as Kojirou's killing intent surges back onto the battlefield. He drops out of the Mad Enhancement, raising his hand before him. He's already started burning...but...

     "Elementar."

     Another surge of that ocean of prana. Another surge of impossibility as power is forced into Kojirou and into the flame around him. The Magic Crest on his body erupts into sickly red light, painting the flame itself from orange to bloody crimson. The fire splits away from him before he turns to cinders, before he *fries*. It is as if he took a blade right down into the fire to protect himself, carving into the Laus Saint Claudius and dispersing it over the bridge.

     The only thing not seared black on him is the tuxedo, which is most *assuredly* a holy item. His face is blackened. His hands are blackened. His hair smolders, flickering embers of the glorious flame smoking behind him. Every motion must be exquisite pain.

     But those black lines upon his body are darker even than the charring of his flesh, and they twist and twitch and thrash into a new configuration as he moves.

     Kojirou reaches behind him. Blackened fingers close around a beautiful blue hilt - shielded from the fire by his own head. Slowly, it comes forth, hissing as it's pulled from its sheathe like some sort of serpentine devil. The sword of Kojirou Sasaki, Monohoshi Zao.

     It's ridiculous. A slender sword, four feet and nine inches long. A katana so big it defies sanity. It's nearly as long as Kojirou is tall. No one could conceivably use a sword like that, not really, certainly not against the heavy European sword in Saber's hands.

     But...now that that sword is in his hands...he seems more....complete? More dangerous, even, than the Mad Enhancement. Despite his blackened burns, despite his charred skin, despite the pain he must surely be under, Kojirou with that sword in hand exudes an aura of such complete and total confidence that even the Mad Enhancement seems as if he was merely holding back.

     Saber's earned this.

Fake Avenger (662) has posed:
     He doesn't walk forward. He doesn't step back into melee. Hell - Kojirou doesn't even *move*. He simply takes the middle of the vast Great Span, the blade held neutrally at his side. Even an amateur swordsman can see that he's totally undefended like this! Even an amateur swordsman could tell how many holes and openings are in that posture. Not even a combat stance? What a shoddy swordsman!

     "You managed to get Banda from my hand. You dove into death and emerged victorious on the edge of life. You have the makings of a master, at least."

     Kojirou tilts his head to the side. There's an awful cracking sound as black flecks of charred skin fall away, leaving behind magical muscle and discolored black blood. "You have my respect, beautiful burning blossom, even if the test has only just begun. I am Kojirou Sasaki, Avenger-class Servant. Now that my sword is drawn, I would have your name."

     "This is a duel of samurai now."

Kyra Hyral (626) has posed:
    Later Kyra will Wark out that picture. But not now. Now the sitaution was dire enough for Kyra to pay full attention to the fight between the pair instead of the almighty social media. Her efforts promptly return to recording, which she'll slow down later so seh has a better look at the attacks.

    "Hmm. Servants move very fast. There's no way I could outmove any of you..." ...which meant there were real concerns if one turned on her. She leaves that part unvoiced. Even with his speed 'reset' by Dispell, Kojirou was too fast to follow.

    There is a small sigh of relief as she can see the Mad Enhancement is no longer active. The persistance and skill of Saber could be attributed to that. "Hey Caster, what's up with the Tuxedo? Why is it not burning?" she asks him casually, lifting her phone to center on the seared Servant with pristine duds. "Asbestos? -oh jeeze, that sword." Kyra narrows her eyes.

    Honorable as that sounds, Kyra shakes her head, "No, don't fall for it, Saber."

Red Saber (880) has posed:
     Saber held her post swing posture, not looking back at the explosion of flame behind her until she could clearly feel Avenger's presence persist. "Truly amazing." She muttered to herself, straightening her stance and turning to face her still living opponent.

     So that Magic Crest wasn't for show after all. And that tuxedo. She had suspicions, but now it was clear; it was a Holy Shroud. How did a man that permeated as much evil as he did obtain one? Much less a Magic Crest? AND he was a Master? /AND/ he could change Servant class skills at any time?

     Ludicrous.

     Still, Saber could not help but let a smirk form upon her face. This battle. She had said at the beginning that they would make it one that would go down in history. But at this rate, perhaps it actually would.

     Koujirou Sasaki drew the blade upon his back; Monohoshi Zao. A ridiculous weapon, even compared to her own Aestus Estus. It was ludicrously long, and it looked terribly fragile.

     ...And yet, why did he seem /even more/ dangerous now than he ever did before? The Servant narrows her eyes, but says nothing.

     Upon being asked for her name, Saber opens her mouth, but then closes it. Kyra had given her an order. It was not an absolute order, but an order nonetheless. She glances back at her Master, silent for a moment. Then back to Kojirou.

     "While I am moved by your display of honor, Sir Sasaki, my Praetor has forbidden me from giving my true name." She raised her blade into a prototypical 'duel stance'. "A stain upon one's honor it may be, but I will not disobey my Praetor."

     The first move was Kojirou's. However, Prana briefly surged around her.

     "Invictus Spiritus."

     A spell? A skill? Whatever it was, the surge of Prana passed soon after, leaving nothing but silence.

Fake Avenger (662) has posed:
     "It's my Holy Shroud," Caster replies, sounding somewhat grumpy. He really doesn't CARE about giving away information. He already dislikes working for Kojirou. The things a man does to win an unlimited Wish!

     Kojirou doesn't seem to care that Saber won't give her name. He shrugs, rather than looking displeased or disinterested. Kojirou really doesn't seem the type to lecture and demand, anyway. If anything he's more like a force of nature. A whirlwind doesn't get mad at you. A thundercloud doesn't get upset when you don't listen to it. He also doesn't seem to care about the flow of prana, either. Can he even sense it? It's impossible to say.

     He doesn't use Reinforcement. He doesn't change skills. He simply takes the sword in hand, shrugs again, and moves forward. It's a slow walk, like he's taking a casual stroll through the woods, admiring the scenery. It's not the lightning-fast charge from earlier. It's not the super-speed strikes that hammered with shockwaves. It's just a stroll, a casual stroll, closing the distance.

     It's when he first steps into range that it becomes apparent why he feels no need to rush, hurry, or run. Five feet away from Saber...

     The effect is entirely different than when he was wielding the Banda. With the cane in hand, Kojirou struck like a typical swordsman, slashing and striking with two-hands for the back, the chest, wherever he felt like. Though his attacks were hard to read, they were basically readable. The arc of the cane could be followed, predicted, and struck.

     Monohoshi Zao is a completely different level. There is the BEGINNING of the slash - where the blade's tip is, dangling at Kojirou's side - and the END of the slash - where the sword ends, dangling at Kojirou's side - but nothing in between. There's no arc to follow. There's no *motion*. There's simply the awareness of a strike, like flowing water, fast as wind, aimed directly at her throat.

     As he takes another step the blade swishes through the air again, just as ludicrously fast, just as impossible to follow. If before it was like watching claymation, now it's like seeing two stills of the same person set side by side, identical except that the blade ends up in a different position.

     Another step, another slash. The zone directly in front of Kojirou is a killing field.

     The worst part is that there is no magic whatsoever. No prana. No Reinforcement, no Mad Enhancement. No supernatural force prevents his skill from being read. No magical ability shields him.

     This is skill that surpasses divinity itself.

     Is this Tsubame Gaeshi? Is this his false Noble Phantasm?

     Kyra could tell that it isn't, since she's seen it before...

     "You should never give your opponent a chance to strike," Kojirou notes, in the same tone as his casual, through-the-woods stroll, "Giving control of the battlefield to your enemy is a mistake only someone very foolishly proud would ever make."

Kyra Hyral (626) has posed:
    "Oh, well that explains it." Kyra agrees, "I was wondering why he was wearing a tux that looked so ridiculously out of place on him. Are you sure /you/ don't want to come work for /me/? I at least won't steal your clothes, no matter how snazzy they are." She sounds like she's only half joking about this. She already knows the types of mechanics that may be needed to take Avenger's command seals and she knows they're not prepared to handle that.

    For one, that would mean getting something cut off of Avenger. Such skills...well, maybe Saber could pull something off but right now, Kyra's just rooting for her to beat the Avenger and not die.

    If such a thing were possible against such accurate strikes that could not be followed. Even later when she reviews the footage, she won't be finding the actual trajectory of the sword in the 'middle' where it belongs. Even worse, Kyra knew this is what passed for normal skill like that. She remembers what happened to Riva.

    "I'm kind of glad he didn't launch into some lecture about the name thing. I know some Samurai that would /immediately/ do that here." Kyra remarks aloud, trying to hide her nervousness with banter at Caster.

Red Saber (880) has posed:
     Yes, Saber was proud.

     Pride would forever be her undoing. It was almost like her geass. If ever there was a chance for Saber to fall, it would always be to her own pride, not to the enemy.

     And this was just one instance of that pride coming to a fall.

     Avenger reaches optimal distance. And then he swings. ".....?????" Saber SAW where the blade started, but she did NOT see where it ended.

     Squelch.

     Blade slices through neck, and a violent spray of blood followed. Saber's lifeblood rapidly left her and she flopped to the ground uselessly, blood further continuing to pool around her fallen form.

     This was it.

     The battle was over.

     Sasaki Kojirou was victorio-wait, wait.

     ...Something was amiss.

     Saber's body, which should have been dead suddenly took on an ethereal glow. Her blood, as if being rewound by time reversed flow /back/ into her body and her wond closed. Once it was all done, her eyes returned to life and she shot back up to her feet, Aestus Estus at the ready.

     "I see. So that is how your blade works." Saber spoke confidently, a grin to match adorning her features.

    . So, /THAT/ was was Invictus Spiritus did. It denied the concept of death and brought her back to life.

     At least once.

     And she used that one chance to gauge Avenger's sword skill with Monohoshi Zao. "Now that I have seen it, I have the utmost confidence that I will be able to cross blades with you properly, Sir Sasaki! Let us continue!" Prana gathered into her blade, and that same crimson power from earlier followed, flowing into her body upon her proclamation.

     Then she struck. With practiced precision, she aimed not to overwhelm the swordsman with a flurry of blows. No, she adopted the philosophy that she was just hit with moments before. Single, quick, masterful strokes, aimed for vital points. There was no flourish, no flame beyond Aestus Estus' natural glow.

     A proper duel between two Samurai.

Fake Avenger (662) has posed:
     "No thanks," Caster observes, "Might be nice for a while getting sandwiched between two pretty ladies, but I'll take the surefire victory and the perfect wish over the buxom blonde. I'm a long-term thinker."

     "I don't think he cares," the Baron admits, leaning on a shadow, "I truly don't think he cares about anything except fighting."

     Death is reversed. Kojirou's face remains impassive. It was a neat trick, but it was a trick she had spent. If she was a Servant, she could die, and if she could die, Kojirou could probably kill her. Saber throws aside her style, adopting the theoretical style of the samurai, bringing her heavy European sword down towards Kojirou's face.

     He doesn't meet her blade. That would be stupid. Monohoshi Zao would shatter like fine china against such a heavy European weapon. European swords were made for smashing through armor heavier than Kojirou's sword. Even the abnormal Aestus Estus was big enough to crunch through Monohoshi Zao like so much clay.

     Instead, he steps inwards, closing the gap between them.

     "Reinforcement."

     Aestus Estus catches in his shoulder. The lowest part of the sword - the part closest to the hilt - sticks at the moment of impact as Kojirou closes the same hand around the sword. The spray of black blood is utterly ignored as the wound in his arm becomes a vicegrip, pinning the sword with his own muscle, his own skin. His shoulder, his hand, become like iron, clinging to the weapon in two places.

     Ridiculous...!

     Monohoshi Zao rises to her throat.

     The sword stops at the edge of life and death, an impassable barrier. The razor-sharp blade hangs there near her skin.

     "You haven't shown me everything yet. You're holding back."

     Then he pauses again, his lavender eyes meeting hers. Those wriggling black flecks in his eyes, like tadpoles in the pool, thrash and twist.

     "..."

     Kojirou shrugs, releasing the Aestus Estus from his hand-and-shoulder vicegrip. With a flick of the blade, he cleans the blood off Monohoshi Zao, sheathing it in the same motion. He bends down, snags the Banda, and stows it back behind his belt.

     "For a brief instant, I felt hope stirring in my heart once again. That you might be someone who had truly challenged the gods, who could push me beyond my current state and into the realm beyond divinity itself...perhaps that is the closest Kojirou Sasaki has ever come to falling in love."

     "Your skill is art. It is beautiful, and elegant, and utterly without meaning. It is a beautiful lie, a reflection of the truth that nonetheless rings hollow." Kojirou rolls his shoulder, tearing off his purple tie and binding it around his wound.

     "You have never challenged a god. Your elegant sword is a paintbrush and nothing more. As swiftly as I fell in love, I saw through that lie, and my heart broke once again. You are a very convincing actor, but in the end, that is all you are."

     He tilts his head backwards. "Make your lie truth. Challenge the gods themselves. Fight, and fight, and transform art into truth, and when you have cut into the flesh of gods and men alike, I will come back and kill you with everything that I have, and at that time I will hold nothing back."

     "And then," Kojirou's eye meets Saber's, "You will die, not because someone asked me to kill you, but because you will be worthy of dying at my hands, beautiful burning blossom."

     "Caster."

     Caster of Brown sighs and mutters something under his breath. "Coming, Master." He scampers over to Kojirou, then turns and doffs his hat to the ladies.

     "For what it's worth," Caster observes in Nero's direction, "*I'm* still fallin' in love." He shatters, taking spiritual form as Kojirou himself wavers out of reality, fades, and vanishes, leaving no trace of himself behind.

Kyra Hyral (626) has posed:
    "Ooookay." Kyra sighs with mock resignment at Caster. "Though honestly I bet two Servants would drive me completely nuts. And the MP drain..man, how would I have anything left to do-"

    The banter stops abruptly when she sees Red Saber qute obviously, dead. She stares at this in disbelief for several moments, too shocked to be upset but the emotion was building like a rumbling avalanche in the back of her mind. Foremost is anger though. It happened far too fast for her to stop it with her white magic-

    No, wait, Saber is fine. An illusion, maybe? As illusionary as the skill that Saber suddenly seemed to possess with her sword? Kyra will take that and believe that. She'll believe that, on the second day of having Saber, that she hadn't lost her already.

    The bizzare state of rapture and disasppointment that Kojirou is left in isn't the ideal outcome Kyra hoped for-no, that would be annihilation. She very well meant it when she told Saber to kill him. But to have him walk away, hungering for more, yet leaving them both alive? Still an outcome that the white mage will appreciate and wisely not speak up to question. She does remark, "Well that was certainly something I've /never/ seen before." as she slips her phone away into her pocket and lowers, but not unloads, her gun. "Seeya Caster."

    She waits, perhaps until the two are out of earshot, before turning to Saber with a grin on her face, "/Damn/. I don't care what samurai boy says about acting. That was awesome."

Red Saber (880) has posed:
     When all is said and done, Saber can only inwardly marvel that she was still standing. She had played far too many risky gambits to coast through this fight alive.

     ...

     Well okay, she died once, but that was semi-intentional.

     Fat lot of good that did though. He saw /right/ through her. Was this the difference between an actual master swordsman and one who merely convinced the world that she was one?

     Well, whatever the case. She was still alive. This was good enough for now. "Hmph! Perhaps I will challenge a god one day!" Saber proclaims, Aestus Estus dissipating into wisps of flame as Kojirou and Caster made their exit.

     ...Caster's remark only served to inflate the Servant's ego however. She rest her arms upon her hips, chest puffing up proudly. Yes. Of course. She was the greatest after all!

     Nevermind the truth!

     Kyra's comment only adds fuel to the egotistical fire. "Mhmhmhm! Yes, yes! I /am/ awesome. I am glad you understand, Praetor. And I am also heartened to know that you are safe." She turned to face her Master, looking her up and down. "I trust my Prana usage has not drained you too much now, as it?"

Kyra Hyral (626) has posed:
    "There's no perhaps, I'm pretty sure you will, Saber. Challenge a god that is. That kind of thing is possible out here in the Multiverse. It's pretty great!" This cheerful addition comes once she's sure that Kojirou has completely left and there's no longer any danger of being surprise shanked.

    "Hm, well." She puts a finger to her chin, "The draw is definitely a lot more than what I've ever felt before. On my own, I would have had to try to expend that much MP in a fight though I definitely do not feel /completely/ tapped out by you flexing your power. If needed, I can certainly drop some healing on you! I will be interested to see how it feels after you have used your Noble Phantasm! But in time. Even without it tonight, the results were fantastic!"