Running and running, he sprinted home in pure fear and shock. His breathing was uneven and ragged, his legs trembling beneath him, his heart pounding so violently in his chest that it felt like he could hear it echoing in his ears. His heart had been pierced. He remembered that clearly, the cold sensation, the pain but when he woke up, it was healed. The wound was completely gone. He was confused, terrified, and unable to piece together how any of it made sense. But there was no time to think about that. Not when everything around him had become strange, wrong. Everything had been wrong from the moment he left the school.
He had stayed late to clean the archery club room, wiping up the usual dusty corners and putting the bows back in place like he always did. But when he finally left… he had heard metal clashing. The sound of swords.
He looked, drawn by instinct or curiosity or something else entirely, and what he saw froze his body from the inside out.
He saw two figures locked in brutal combat: one in blue wielding a long blood red spear, and another dual wielding blades. They moved faster than anything humanimpossibly fast. And without thinking, without even processing what he saw, his survival instincts kicked in. He turned and ran with every ounce of strength his legs could muster, sprinting back through the school hallways.
He could hear footsteps behind him. Someone was chasing him, no, something. He darted down corridors, slid around corners, nearly slipped multiple times. But it was all in vain. A shadow closed in. A cold lance pierced his heart. Everything went black. After that, he remembered nothing.
And then he woke up alive. He had lifted his hand to his chest, trembling fingers brushing against dried blood but he felt no wound.
Now here he was inside his own house, gasping, shaking, still struggling to process any of it.
"Those guys… in red and blue… what the hell were they?" he muttered, grabbing his chest, his voice cracking. "They were far beyond any ordinary human. No, not even comparable… they were monsters."
His shoulders trembled as he squeezed his shirt.
"I was damn near killed by one… No" his voice shook, "I was really killed." His mind replayed the moment like an unstoppable nightmare. "But I'm still here. Somehow… someone must have helped me. Someone came after I died. I wish… I wish I could thank them."
But just as that thought formed, the bells outside his house began ringing sharplyjingling, loud enough to jolt him upright. His body tensed. He felt a presence and looked up.
A man was descending toward him dropping from above with inhuman precision, wielding a long crimson spear.
Instinct made the teen hurl himself across the room, rolling clumsily but narrowly avoiding the strike.
He scrambled to his feet, panic surging, and grabbed the nearest object a rolled-up paper scroll. His hands shook, but he held it tightly, refusing to look away from the spearwielding man in front of him.
"Oh well," the lancer spoke with a cold, almost disappointed sigh, resting the shaft of his bloodred spear on his shoulder. "So much for trying to be considerate. It hurts more when you can see death coming, you know?" His voice was casual, almost conversational. "Strange thing though. I have to kill the same person twice in one day. I guess the human world is always a bloody place no matter the era."
He twirled the spear, readying himself.
The teen grit his teeth, steadying his stance.
"…Trace, on."
Glowing green lines Circuit like patterns lit up across the boy's hands, snaking up through his skin and spreading across the paper.
"Huh?" The lancer blinked, then smirked, amused. "Interesting. So this time, kid, you're going straight to the afterlife for good."
"Component materials Strengthening," the teen uttered, voice tense and shaky.
The lancer lunged forward with frightening speed. The teen tried to block him and brought the reinforced paper up just in time but the spear scraped his arm, tearing fabric and slicing skin. A thin line of blood trickled down.
"Now that's an unusual trick," the lancer laughed lightly.
"I can sense it. You have mana. So that's why you survived even after I pierced your heart." His grin widened, sharper now. "This might be fun after all."
The spear dragged against the wooden floor with a loud metallic scrape. The auburn-haired teen focused on every small movement the lancer made, adrenaline burning through his veins.
The two clashed if it could even be called that. The boy swung desperately; the lancer attacked effortlessly. Blow after blow, the teen was overwhelmed. He stumbled, was pushed back, and eventually threw himself through a window to escape, glass shattering everywhere.
He hit the ground hard and groaned, clutching his ribs only to feel a powerful kick collide with his side, launching him across the yard. He rolled painfully across the grass.
"I even gave you a chance, kid, but you blew it," the lancer sighed.
The boy staggered into the shed, teeth gritted, desperately trying to get away.
"Geez, kid man up already, damn it!" the lancer barked. He thrust forward, but at the very last moment, the teen reacted, throwing the reinforced paper up to block. The spear struck it and the paper exploded from the force, throwing him backward.
"Checkmate," the lancer said calmly, stopping over him. "That last move was pretty clever. You're fast, quick on your feet. But your magecraft is unrefined and slow. You're not trained." He tilted his head. "Still… you've definitely got talent. Enough that maybe you were meant to be the Seventh Master…"
The lancer raised his spear to finish it.
"No," the teen hissed, a surge of stubborn defiance filling his chest. "My life was spared once. I'm not going to just die again. I have things I have to do, things I must accomplish. I'm not dying here for no reason!"
A glowing crest complex, beautiful, burning began forming on his hand.
The lancer moved to strike
"Not by a bastard like you! No matter what it costs me!" the teen roared.
A sudden strike silent and invisible and powerful intercepted Lancer. His eyes widened in shock.
Blue wind spiraled. Light gathered and a commanding and regal light filled the shed.
A woman stood there, illuminated by a pale ethereal glow. Clad in shining silver armor with a deep blue dress beneath, golden hair flowing, and an invisible sword surrounded by compressed air in her hand.
She turned her clear blue eyes toward the teen.
"I ask you; Are you my Master?" Her voice was firm, unwavering.
He stared up at her, stunned, confused.
"My… master?" he echoed, barely able to form the words.
She nodded. "I am your servant. Saber. I have come in response to your summons."
A sudden pain shot through his body; he clutched his chest.
"My sword will henceforth be by your side. Your faith shall be my faith. Our pact is sealed." Saber positioned herself between him and Lancer and rushed forward, She gripped the sword and held it by her side and shot out the shed. And immediately went into combat with the lancer.
Both sword and lance clashed she then stopped back, looked over her opponent and shot forward the battle quickly sped up as she attacked now with more vigor and speed. You could hear her grunts with every heavy slash she took. And the lancer responded in kind as he slashed, blocked and led some attacks himself, both of them attacked at speeds an untrained human eye couldn't even perceive.
Yellow sparks flew from every hard blow they threw at each other. Saber blocked one of his attacks and used that momentum to press herself forward and make the lancer fly back. He started to spin and regain his footing to redirect his backwards momentum. And then spun once more into a full sprint with his lance and then jumped at saber. With a one handed attack.
She saw through this and attacked upwards letting out a grunt. That attack made some of the ground below them fly up from the amount of strength she used.
Lancer gritted his teeth and barely dodged a fatal attack from his head. She began to press him, making him go on the defensive as she pressed her attack. Not letting him recover for even a second. She went for a downward slash and the lancer recovering a bit twirled his lancer and blocked her attack and went for her head she ducked and then used that to press an attack on his abdominal.
He expertly maneuvered his lance and blocked it. She didn't stop for even a moment, turning around with a low stance and going for another attack.
She twirled and shot an attack at his head. He blocked and their blades clashed on each other in a deadlock while sparks flew from the intense weight and power from their weapons.
She kept her strength up clearly greater than the lancer, and he started to struggle under her blade. He moved his lance downward sending her sword to the ground and jumped upwards using his agility to his advantage.
"Who do you think you are, concealing your weapon like some coward?" Lancer spat, shaken.
Saber lunged again. Lancer dodged, but she lifted her arm subtly enough to make him flinch.
"What is wrong, Lancer? Simply standing there will tarnish the reputation of spearmen," she taunted, voice sharp.
"Hmph. Let me ask somethingIs your Noble Phantasm truly a sword?" he questioned.
"Perhaps. Perhaps not. It may be a battle axe, a polearm, a bow… even something similar to yours, Lancer."
He let out a short, annoyed laugh. "Funny, swordswoman."
Meanwhile, the teen watched, overwhelmed. "What… stance even is that…?"
Lancer clicked his tongue. "One more question. Since this is our first meeting… how about we call this a draw?"
"I think not," Saber answered, her voice resolute. "You will fall here, Lancerand you know this."
"Tch… I only meant to observe," Lancer muttered. His spear began glowing red, the amount of mana coming from the lance made the ground under them start to crumble under the sheer pressure.
Saber immediately shifted her stance, ready.
Lancer charged.
"Gáe Bolg!!"
The cursed spear twisted causality, space distorted air exploded outward.
Saber blocked, but the curse had already struck. She was blown back, hitting the ground hard, clutching her shoulder.
"Tch… You're lucky, Saber. You avoided the attack that would've pierced your heart." Lancer's tone turned irritated. Saber's eyes narrowed sharply.
"That attack… Gáe Bolg… Ireland's Child of Light Cú Chulainn."
Lancer shrugged. "Yeah, well, if I use that move and don't finish the job, I'm in trouble. My Master's kind of a coward. Since you avoided the fatal point, he's ordering me to retreat."
He began stepping away.
"You're running?" Saber demanded.
"You're welcome to follow," he replied, voice low. "But be prepared to die if you do."
He leapt into the night, vanishing.
"Wait!" Saber tried to pursue but stopped.
"…Is she some kind of idiot?" the teen muttered as he ran up to her, still shaken. "Heyare you okay?"
Her armor shimmered faintly repairing itself.
"What… what are you?" he asked, stepping back slightly.
"As I said, I am in the Saber class. A Servant. So please, call me Saber."
He blinked, overwhelmed. "…My name is Shirou. Shirou Emiya."
Saber's eyes widened. "Emiya…?"
She paused, understanding something silently.
"I understand that you are not a proper Master," she said gently.
Shirou flinched at that.
"But despite that, you are my Master all the same."
"Isn't it weird for you to just start calling me 'Master' like that?" he said, flustered, waving his hands.
"Then I shall call you Shirou. Yes. That is pleasing to the ear."
She began to walk forward while Shirou looked down at his hand and froze.
"What… what are these!?" he yelled.
"Those are Command Seals," Saber explained. "Do not use them carelessly. And Shirou please heal me."
"You want me to do that? I can't. Magic like that is way beyond anything I can do."
Saber immediately stepped back, then leaped effortlessly onto the roof.
"Well then, I shall face them as I am. There are two enemies outside. One more battle will not pose a problem."
And she jumped into combat again.
Swords clashed this time with a red cloaked figure.
Shirou ran forward, heart racing, recognizing the silhouette.
"Saber, stop!!"
His Command Seal glowed and Saber froze midmotion, restrained against her will.
"Are you insane, Shirou?" Saber snapped, trying to turn her head. "I could have defeated them!"
"I don't know what any of this is! If I'm really your Master, then tell me tell me what's going on!"
As the argument flared, the other Servant stepped forward. A girl with calm eyes watched them.
"Ah. So that is how it is," she said softly. "Good evening, Shirou Emiya.