"You know, walking around town openly with your Servant makes it pretty easy for your enemies to gather intel."
The fierce-looking man casually reminded Shirou Emiya.
Though he probably wasn't in a position to lecture anyone, since he and his own Servant had been doing the exact same thing moments earlier—strolling openly through the streets without bothering to conceal their presence.
Even being monitored by familiars hadn't concerned him in the least.
At least, not until—
"Master, I sense a familiar presence. Probably an enemy Servant."
In a flash, his Servant's expression grew serious. Without waiting for further orders, he swiftly shifted into spirit form.
"Damn, what a self-willed Servant," the man muttered quietly, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it.
Just as he sparked the flame, he noticed two figures standing amidst the crowd ahead—a striking, knightly man with golden hair and a one-armed youth whose hair seemed caught between shades of white and red.
As Shirou's physical condition slowly improved, his hair was gradually transitioning back from white to its original red color. Perhaps before long, he wouldn't need to awkwardly explain his hair color to Fuji-nee once he returned home.
Though, of course, he'd momentarily forgotten that his biggest problem wouldn't be his hair color—but the arm he had completely lost.
"Haah—!"
A sharp cry echoed suddenly from Arthur's right side, accompanied immediately by a fierce gale and a brutal kick slicing through the air with unmatched strength.
BANG—!
In the nick of time, Arthur raised his right arm, barely managing to block the vicious strike.
The powerful collision unleashed a shockwave, flinging both Shirou and the fierce-looking man away. Both of them crashed onto the hard ground nearby.
Even Arthur was forced backward a few steps, as though struck by a heavy hammer.
"Not bad at all!"
An energetic, spirited female voice rang out from Arthur's flank.
The surrounding residents were momentarily stunned into silence by the sudden eruption of violence. They didn't even scream—just stood frozen, ears ringing from the sonic boom.
From his spot sprawled on the ground, Shirou finally caught sight of the person responsible for the sudden attack:
A woman with long blonde hair pulled back into a single ponytail, wearing jeans and a loose jacket. Her grin was wild and enthusiastic, clearly delighted by Arthur's strength.
Shirou had long since transferred the responsibility of supplying Arthur's mana over to Yggdmillennia's homunculi. Magecraft wasn't exactly his strong point, and his limited mana reserves wouldn't sustain Arthur through even a single battle.
According to the homunculi, they could share the mana burden without any issues, causing no ill effects. Shirou had readily agreed—though of course, he had no idea they were homunculi. He assumed they were just ordinary servants employed by the castle.
Still, it surprised him that virtually everyone around here seemed capable of magecraft.
With this new mana supply arrangement, Arthur's stats had significantly improved:
Class: Saber
Alignment: Lawful Good
Parameters—
Strength: A
Endurance: A+
Agility: B
Mana: A
Luck: B
Noble Phantasm: C (EX)
"What's wrong with your Servant?!" Shirou yelled in alarm at the fierce-looking man, who was likewise picking himself up off the ground.
Launching a sudden attack in the middle of town—if innocent bystanders got hurt, what then?
This openly violated the rules of the Holy Grail War, which prohibited battles in broad daylight.
Panicked, Shirou swiftly rose to his feet and rushed toward the gathered crowd, urging them to clear the area.
But naturally, no one listened. For the locals, seeing a real-life fight of this magnitude was too fascinating. Their response was obvious: find the best spot to watch.
After all, the combatants weren't even using weapons; it was just a street brawl. Some took out their phones to record, others considered calling the police—but nobody moved to intervene.
The sheer violence and power behind each strike convinced them it wasn't their place to step in.
Wisely, the crowd retreated on their own, forming a wide circle to give Arthur and the mysterious Servant ample room to battle.
"Don't worry too much," the man reassured Shirou, patting his shoulder casually. "Neither of our Servants is fighting seriously—they're just testing each other. I know the rules of the Holy Grail War well enough. I won't let my Servant cause too much trouble."
It had been quite some time since he'd encountered such an earnest young man.
But in truth, his words held a blatant lie. If his Servant actually decided to fight an enemy Servant openly in broad daylight, he certainly wouldn't stop her.
At that moment, the unknown Servant was using her entire body as a deadly weapon. She attacked Arthur relentlessly and ferociously, resembling a wild beast unleashed.
Her combat style had no fixed rhythm, making Shirou's heart pound uneasily as he watched from afar.
If he were in Arthur's place, Shirou realized, he would have no idea how to counter. He couldn't predict where her next strike would come from, nor how to defend against it.
Her fighting style resembled Esdeath's in some ways, yet fundamentally differed in others.
If Esdeath's techniques were like those of a warrior who honed and perfected methods through countless battles, this Servant's style felt more like raw, unpolished instinct, purely dedicated to survival and slaughter.
One was a meticulously refined and practiced martial art, continuously improving and adapting. The other was an ever-changing, spontaneous flow of raw instinct—fighting without rules or repetition, born naturally from pure combat.
Neither method was strictly superior; each had advantages and disadvantages.
The refined approach allowed faster victories and vastly improved combat potential, yet could be countered by a skilled opponent who recognized its patterns.
The instinctual method had no identifiable patterns or rules, full of openings and vulnerabilities, yet remained unpredictable, making it difficult to anticipate or counter effectively.
It wasn't that Shirou couldn't project such techniques if he tried—but even if he copied her skills, he wouldn't be able to predict her attacks when facing her directly.
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T/N: thats because she has no style :sob: