The only one who didn't speak up against Shiomi was Artoria—not out of shyness, but because she had sensed two Servants emerging from the shadows behind the young Saber.
When their faces came into view, Artoria froze in disbelief.
"Gawain... Tristan..."
Hearing her speak their True Names, the young Saber raised an eyebrow in surprise. "Oh? So they're acquaintances of yours? In that case, there's no point hiding behind our Class names anymore, is there?"
"It would seem so," Gawain said solemnly. "To think we've fallen so low in this Holy Grail War that we now stand in opposition to our king."
Tristan slightly lowered his head, his expression grim. "As much as I wish to defect and return to the king's side, it's no longer possible… I've even been stripped of the freedom to take my own life in atonement, just to avoid opposing our king."
"You two…" Artoria clenched her fists tightly, pain written all over her face.
From their words, it was clear their consciousness hadn't been taken—but something was restricting their actions. Someone was pulling the strings behind them, treating the two as pawns.
"To think even the Knights of the Round Table could be manipulated... This Saber really isn't to be underestimated," Morgan said as she stepped in front of Shiomi protectively.
The young Saber grinned. "It's not like I'm the one controlling them. But hey, turning enemies into allies to fight others? That's a win in my book! I mean, having these handsome knights follow my orders? Super cool, right?"
She arrogantly raised her sword and pointed it straight at Artoria.
"You should understand this better than anyone."
"Utter nonsense. Turning proud knights into puppets for your use! Whether as a king or as a comrade, I will never forgive such a disgraceful act!" Artoria snapped, her voice low and fierce. The Holy Lance appeared, stirring the wind.
Gawain let out a heavy sigh. "To hear such words from our king… I'm truly grateful. But—"
"A fight is inevitable. Forgive us." Tristan's brow furrowed as he plucked his harp string.
Arrows rained in from all directions.
"Verteidigung," Shiomi whispered.
It wasn't a command, but an invocation—a declaration of Magecraft.
Using several Runes as a base, he released a barrier of magic energy that expanded outward, shielding the group from the incoming arrows.
"You can already use Magecraft at this scale?" Morgan exclaimed in surprise.
According to the pre-departure assessment she and Scáthach had conducted, Shiomi's condition and combat potential as a Master were about on par with Ritsuka.
That was why she had helped fine-tune the Chaldea Mystic Code for him, to better support combat from a Master's position.
Yet even so, being able to use his signature Runes magic without relying on the Mystic Code was beyond anything the three of them had anticipated.
"Not too shabby," Shiomi said, placing his hands on Artoria's and Morgan's backs. "I'll back you up with Runes magic. I'm counting on you for the fight."
With no signal, the battle erupted instantly.
Empowered by Runes, Artoria and Morgan burst forward, dashing past Scáthach and clashing head-on with the advancing Gawain and Tristan.
The young Saber didn't even glance at the skirmish—nor did she intend to help. Instead, she raised the katana in her hand.
More swords began to float around her, their numbers growing by the second.
"Suiren!"
"Oh? So we're having a weapon count contest now?"
Scáthach widened the gap and stepped forward to shield Shiomi in Morgan's place, swinging her arm sharply.
Spears of crimson materialized one after another, matching the number of Saber's floating blades.
"Whoa—nice moves! You're good!"
Despite the compliment, the girl looked thrilled as she and Scáthach simultaneously swung their weapons.
Katanas and red spears collided and clattered to the ground.
Neither side needed to micromanage—their weapons moved on their own, engaging each other midair.
At the same time, their wielders clashed directly.
"I'm talking to you. That weapon's a lance, right? You really like your Master, huh?" Saber grinned, flashing a set of white teeth.
Scáthach gracefully swung her crimson spear, clashing with Saber.
"That much is obvious. So why bother asking?" Scáthach sidestepped the incoming slash.
The blade didn't even come close to grazing her hair.
Though this Saber clearly had her abilities enhanced—her overall level comparable to Lancelot when he received the Gift from the Lion King—her agility still lagged behind Scáthach's. After a dozen or so exchanges, Saber began to fall behind, hindered by the shorter reach of her weapon and the gap in skill.
That was likely why the young Saber brought it up.
"I mean, if someone you care about dies—especially your Master—that'd be a real hassle for you, right?"
She abruptly sheathed her sword, then lashed out in a wide, elegant arc.
The blade struck Scáthach's spear but was just a feint.
With a mischievous giggle, Saber let two katana slip around the spear and shoot toward Shiomi's back.
At that speed, no human Master could possibly react in time.
She had used this move to take down several Masters before.
Scáthach noticed—but didn't turn around.
Because Shiomi had already told her via mental transmission not to worry.
Focused entirely on her counterattack, Scáthach caught the look of surprise on Saber's face.
The two blades aiming for Shiomi's back missed, avoided by him leaning forward barely half a second in advance, his motion aligning perfectly with Scáthach's backward leap.
"Tch—!"
Clang! Clang—!
Caught off guard, Saber didn't have time to control them separately and could only knock away the two blade copies.
"Master!"
By the time Scáthach landed, Shiomi had already prepared a magic circle.
"Nice enchantment! So this is the Holy Grail War, huh?!"
The array rose from the ground, sweeping over Scáthach's body.
Her Mana flared, growing even more intense.
"Berserker, Ruler!"
Scáthach shouted a warning to Morgan and Artoria, telling them to fall back. Six crimson spears materialized again—but any Servant could tell at a glance.
These spears radiated Mana of a completely different scale than before.
Just as the two women began to retreat, and Gawain and Tristan had no choice but to continue their pursuit, a shadow loomed behind them.
Its landing was so heavy that the ground trembled violently.
"Ugh..."
The figure let out a groan, seemingly incapable of speech.
"Huh?" The young Saber whipped around, her eyes wide with fear.
Gawain, still facing forward, called out:
"My king! Please retreat with your allies, now!"
And then the terrified voice of the young Saber rang out.
"Why... Why are you here?! This isn't even your jurisdiction! Passionlip!"
Though truthfully, it wasn't hers either.