Mordred's combat style can be described in four words: rough yet meticulous.
Rough refers to her external demeanor. Mordred's moves are bold and unrestrained, surpassing even many male Heroic Spirits in this regard. However, one should not mistake her rugged fighting style for carelessness—while she might overlook minor details in everyday life, in battle, she exercises a caution that matches her strength.
As she advanced, she instinctively chose paths where Archer's arrows couldn't reach, while also analyzing various possibilities based on the current situation.
There were two enemies. The way they jumped from the clock tower didn't resemble that of Servants, at least not those of the martial kind. If it were her or her father, they would have simply jumped the several dozen meters without hesitation. The absence of a detectable Servant aura up to this point also supported this observation.
But to say both were humans? Mordred wouldn't believe it for a second.
Just one Archer challenging both her and her father? That would be a ridiculous joke—only a madman or an idiot would do such a thing. And Archer, who had coolly seized the opportunity for such a dangerous ambush, was neither. So, there was only one answer: one of them had to be a Servant.
An Assassin? Or a Caster?
Even though she was injured, she was still a Saber. Sending a non-martial Servant against her would either be underestimating her or suggesting there was something extraordinary about them.
It had to be the latter.
Assassins have "Presence Concealment," and if it were a Caster, she might already be stepping into a trap.
Better be cautious!
With this thought, her rapid, thunderous advance shifted to a more conventional march, capable of both offense and defense.
"Saber," Kairi's voice sounded in her ear.
"Be careful, Master. The enemy is likely nearby," Mordred said as she set her Master down.
"I know."
"Then why—"
A hand reached over Mordred's shoulder, pointing to the corner ahead. There, she saw a man leaning against the wall, waving at them.
"Hi~ there."
Mordred's expression twitched. She felt her intelligence had been insulted, expecting traps or ambushes, but instead, the enemy was standing nonchalantly in the open, more knightly than a knight.
"So, you're our opponent?"
Though the enemy appeared unarmed and non-aggressive, Kairi did not let his guard down.
A Master can discern a Servant's class, a privilege granted by the Holy Grail—unless the Servant possesses special skills or Noble Phantasms. At the first sight of the blue-haired man, Kairi confirmed his identity.
"—Black Assassin."
"What? Black Assassin?" Mordred's facial muscles stopped twitching, replaced by confusion—if he was Assassin, then who was the girl who called her father "Mom"?
"Did I get it wrong?"
"Get what wrong?" Shinji asked with interest. He had been on the way when Jack was being chased by Mordred and was unaware of what had happened before sunset.
"Nothing." Mordred shook her head, discarding thoughts unrelated to battle, and cautiously scanned their surroundings.
"There's no need to be so guarded. You're probably worried that I've set some sort of trap, but I can tell you directly that I haven't. Of course, standing here openly isn't because I underestimated you. No one would underestimate the strongest class, Saber, and I've seen your previous battles—I just have complete confidence in my strength."
As he spoke, Shinji shed his casual demeanor and gripped the Ishtar War Lance.
"Be careful, Red Saber. If you're careless, you'll die."
The moment he finished speaking, Shinji had already closed the distance between them, thrusting his lance directly at her.
This thrust gave Mordred a strong sense of déjà vu. Not long ago, she had faced a similar thrust—Black Assassin's stance with the lance was strikingly similar to Artoria's charging form.
The surprise in her eyes didn't affect her body's reaction. Mordred instinctively swung her sword to block Shinji's thrust.
"How do you know—?"
How? It was learned, of course. With Chiron's special training and the sparring with Artoria the night before, Shinji's body had naturally memorized this acceleration technique.
The quick and precise follow-up thrusts were also something Shinji had largely mastered, mimicking them almost perfectly—thanks to the solid foundation laid by Scáthach, these simple techniques could be used skillfully once the knack was grasped.
Mordred grew more puzzled as the fight went on. Where did this guy learn her father's techniques? Because of her doubts, Mordred was only blocking and not counterattacking, which frustrated Shinji.
He had intended to use this fight to test the results of his recent training. Mordred's combat style had many similarities with Achilles', but that was only when Mordred was going all out. If she continued like this, he wouldn't be able to see much.
"Hey, hey, don't get distracted. If you don't start fighting seriously, I'll go after your Master."
As he spoke, Shinji threw his black and gold war lance from close range, the weapon drawing an arc before striking Mordred in the chest.
With a heavy impact, Mordred staggered, her footing unsteady.
Seizing the opportunity, Shinji darted past Mordred, charging towards Kairi, who was ten meters away.
"Don't even think about it!!!" At that moment, Mordred finally snapped out of it. Now wasn't the time to be pondering such things—any questions or doubts could be addressed after the battle.
With a flash of red light and the reappearing lightning, Mordred, now moving faster, swung her sword at Shinji's lower back.
Shinji was prepared. Just before the longsword could connect, he spun around, lowering his left hand to block the King's Sword, which was also enveloped in red lightning.
The last time he had tried to block "Clarent," it proved that his "Vajra Left Arm" wasn't enough to withstand high-level Noble Phantasms. This time, the secret lay in the metal strip extending from his sleeve—a short blade, blending with the night, a weapon commonly used by assassins.
The appearance of this hidden blade eased Mordred's strong sense of incongruity. This was more like what an Assassin should be, not playing with war lances. Mimicking her father's spear techniques—that was something only she should do!
Fueled by anger, Mordred unleashed her magical energy once more. The sudden surge of power sent Shinji, who was blocking with one hand, flying.
Surprisingly, Shinji, who nearly crashed through a wall, wasn't angry in the slightest. He looked at the hidden blade in his left hand with satisfaction, muttering to himself, "Only a shallow scratch? Fiore's craftsmanship is really impressive. With this, I can use it with confidence."
As he left the wall, Shinji now wielded a hand axe. It shared the same rugged design, non-reflective gray finish, and solid construction.
"Now, call me Master Shinji, the Creed-level Assassin!"