After the devastating storm had disrupted the battlefield, silence descended. The sound of waves crashing against the cliffs and the distant clamor from the streets began to subtly embellish the night sky. It seemed that with Lancer's departure, the bounded field isolating them was lifted.
Saber looked at Rider with an extremely complex gaze, this being the initial intruder who had interrupted her duel with Lancer.
"What exactly brought you here, King of Conquerors?"
"I don't know, I didn't think too much about it."
In response to Saber's question, the towering Servant shrugged indifferently, as if it didn't concern him.
"Reasons, plans, those troublesome things are for future historians to ponder. As heroes, we just need to act freely, with passion, and charge across the battlefield."
"That's not something a king should say."
Saber's response was resolute and tinged with disappointment. The Knight King believed in chivalry, which was far removed from the King of Conqueror's reckless abandon.
Rider sniffed and ignored Saber's provocative look.
"Every king's path is unique. As a king, I am different from you, and from the Queen of the Land of Shadows. Or do you insist on determining who is right?"
"That's exactly what I hope for. Here and now—" Saber stubbornly swung her invisible sword.
"Don't be so obstinate, little girl."
Scáthach casually extended her right hand but accurately caught Saber's invisible blade, and with a forceful twist of her wrist, Saber's sword was deflected to the side.
"A qualified warrior does not fear a strong enemy, but should not recklessly provoke one when not in peak condition."
While lecturing her junior, Scáthach seized the opportunity to grab Saber's left wrist.
In battle, even if Saber was injured, Scáthach wouldn't have been able to catch her wrist because of Saber's rather broken skill—"Instinct," Rank A.
Instinct is the ability to instantly determine the "most suitable action" for oneself in battle. At Rank A, it reaches the realm of "predicting the future," allowing Saber to predict trajectories through sound and intuition, evade attacks from firearms, and ignore visual and auditory obstructions to a certain extent.
Relying on this skill, Saber had once gained the upper hand in her melee with Lancer, even negating Lancer's meticulously calculated fatal strike.
However, as this was not a battle and Scáthach's actions were not hostile, Saber's movements were a beat slower, allowing Scáthach to seize her left hand.
"Assassin!" Saber's brows furrowed, her face as cold as ice.
"Don't speak, and don't move."
Scáthach pulled Saber's left hand open, her eyes glowing with mystical brilliance as she gazed through the magical armor at the wound on Saber's forearm.
"The Sea God's curse... at the level of divine authority... If I were manifested as a Caster, I could resolve it, but now I can only alleviate it somewhat."
Under Saber's wary gaze, Scáthach's left hand swiftly moved over Saber's magical armor, inscribing primordial Runes.
The special effect of Diarmuid's demonic spear, Gáe Buidhe, originated from the Rune spell attached by the Sea God, Manannán mac Lir. Scáthach's primordial Runes were the precise antidote, though limited by her current class. She could not wield the divine-level Runes necessary to fully dispel Gáe Buidhe's curse.
The primordial Runes took effect quickly, and the pain that had been plaguing Saber gradually subsided. Though her left thumb was still unresponsive, her left hand was in a much better condition than before, when it was almost completely useless.
Saber moved her left hand and solemnly gave Scáthach a knightly salute.
"Thank you very much, Assassin."
"It's nothing. This is a reward for your outstanding battle with Lancer. Didn't I say it before? I appreciate excellent warriors." True strength lies in following one's path. Archer, Rider, and Scáthach herself all adhered to this principle. She gave Rider an apologetic look.
"Sorry, King of Conquerors, for interrupting your conversation. You can continue now, whether it be fighting or chatting. I won't interfere anymore."
"No problem. I had no intention of fighting tonight. As the King of Conquerors, I would never take advantage of others' weaknesses."
Rider smiled gently and raised his fist.
"Saber, settle things with Lancer first. No matter who wins, I'll be happy to face the victor. So, Saber and Assassin, we'll part ways for now. When we meet again, I hope you can still make my blood boil. Boy, don't you have anything suitable to say?"
The last remark was directed at his Master, Waver.
"I... um... I..."
Waver emerged from his crouched position in the chariot, trembling and unable to form a complete sentence.
"Ha~" Rider sighed helplessly. "You're my Master, at least show some courage. Just say a few cool lines like the protagonists in war movies. You're not like this when we're alone."
"How about this—"
Shinji leaped from his hiding place, landing accurately beside Scáthach, and half-jokingly spoke to Rider.
"—I'll say a few lines and Mr. Velvet can choose one."
Rider stroked his chin, looking at the stiff Waver alongside Shinji.
"Ahem, let's start with something arrogant— 'Wahahaha, the Holy Grail will be ours, so you might as well give up now.'"
"Or— 'Next time we meet, I'll show you that the Holy Grail is meant for the strong.'"
This kind of cool and flamboyant statement matched Rider's personality. He shook his cloak, waving his hand as if to capture the feeling: "I like this one. What do you think, boy?"
"I-I object." Waver weakly responded, "Are there any other options?"
"Then let's go with something milder— 'The green hills remain, the clear waters flow forever, I look forward to our next exciting duel.'" Although the phrasing differed slightly between Japanese and Chinese, Shinji conveyed the meaning well. He always thought this kind of statement, paired with a respectful gesture, was very classy (pretentious).
However, Waver was still dissatisfied: "Is there something even milder?"
Shinji's patience ran out, and he frowned and pulled his mouth: "Listen, kid, the Holy Grail War is still a war. You need some spirit. The person beside you conquered a vast empire spanning three continents. Don't undermine his momentum."
"Alright, fine. I'll choose that one."
Perhaps the King of Conquerors gave Waver courage, or maybe Shinji's banter eased his tension. He took a deep breath and shouted.
"The green hills remain, the clear waters flow forever. I look forward to our next exciting duel. Uh, why does this feel a bit off? Is it the grammar or something else?"
"Don't worry about those details," Shinji waved his hand dismissively and gave Waver a thumbs-up. "Next time, Servants will fight Servants, and Masters will fight Masters. I look forward to facing you, Waver Velvet."
"..."
"Eh, eh, eh, eh, eh!!!"
Waver's scream echoed clearly through the night.
Rider laughed heartily, pushed his Master back into his seat, and then tightened the reins on the two divine bulls. The bulls, symbolizing Zeus's thunder, bellowed, shooting lightning from their hooves as they raced towards the sky.
"Farewell!"
With the rumble of thunder, Rider's chariot soared into the southern sky.
Scáthach nodded to the two ladies, and her body merged with the shadows of the container.
"Master, let's retreat as well."
"Yes, it's time. Saber, Miss Irisviel, we will meet again soon."
Shinji pulled his cloak, his figure becoming fainter until he disappeared completely, leaving behind just one last statement.
"You two up there, can you please stop pointing your guns at me? I mean no harm."