The Lion and the Wolf: Chapter 6: New Beginning

The Day: 2/2

Bazett groaned and turned her head in an attempt to escape the glare of the evil morning sun. She opened her eyes and checked the time; her clock read the day as February 2, at high noon.

"A whole day huh?" she muttered. "Lancer's battle must've strained me more than I thought." She slipped out of bed, discarded her dirty clothes, and hopped in for a quick shower. The rushing water was a welcome feeling on her skin. Water had a cleansing aspect to itself, removing all the rough, chipped, or dirty parts and making it wash away. It helped her live with the things she'd done as an Enforcer.

"Master." The voice of her Servant echoing in her bathroom, in her shower, with her naked, wasn't welcome.

"Lancer, what are you…? Why are you…? Will you get out!" Lancer's silhouette appeared behind the shower curtain.

"You mortals and your modesty. I can understand it, but I'm amazed by the lengths you'll take it." He said.

"Just get out!" she said. He did as told and waited until Bazett finished up. The modest bathrobe she exited wearing didn't surprise him. For one so young she had still developed the kind of body the sculptors of Anor Londo would've killed to immortalize in stone yet he still felt unease looking at her. His vision changed frequencies to see her soul as it would normally manifest and he stiffened. It was soaked in blood, from the lines of her hair to the marrow on her fingernails. And none of it was mortal.

"Something wrong Lancer?" her voice shook him back to reality.

"Nothing master. Just reminiscing." He said.

"About what?" she asked.

"An old friend of mine. If she were alive, you might've become her protégé." Bazett felt her pride swell a little.

"Really?" she inquired, clipping on her earrings.

"Maybe. She trusted few people, and fewer mortals still. But those she did trust, she did so with her life and soul."

"Thanks." She said.

"I suppose you'd like to hear my report, or would you rather I leave you standing there awestruck?" Lancer said, ending her reverie.

"Right. Care to share over tea?" she asked. "I find it helps soothe nerves." He shook his head. "Suit yourself." She headed for the kitchen, wondering what her Servant had learned.

"So, any news since I was out?" Bazett said.

"Fortunately for you, the authorities wrote off the battle as a mere gas explosion. How anyone could believe such nonsense I cannot begin to fathom." Lancer shook his head.

"The important thing is that the secret of magecraft is still that, a secret. Not how sound or silly the lie is," she said setting down her cup. "Anything else?"

"Yes." Lancer moved to the couch and eased into its folds as it groaned under his weight. "While you recovered, some of your familiars came to me. Apparently, the discovery of those child corpses has thrown the city into an uproar." Bazett suppressed a shudder at the memory. "It seems this is in our favor. " She could almost feel the predatory grin on Lancer's face. "The other Masters are running scared."

Tohsaka Manor

'…The discovery of the bodies underneath the Kotomine church has caused an uproar amongst the city, as many of the identified were the surviving children from the horrific fire 10 years ago. While authorities insist the explosion was caused by gas leaks, citizens still fear what may lie further beneath the church on the hill. In other news~!'

The sounds of static filled the room. Archer materialized against the wall as he watched Rin don her signature red jacket. "So I cannot convince you?" he asked.

"I've already made my decision, Archer." She grabbed her schoolbag. "As the Second User of Fuyuki City, I have to ensure that I keep the peace. There are only two Magi at school. One is me, and the other isn't close to being a potential Master." Rin smiled at Archer.

"Wouldn't that mean whoever attacked the church is a third party? Perhaps not even a magus?" Archer replied.

"Then we'll eliminate them before they cause more trouble." She said. "Honestly, it was hard enough to convince the Church to not send in a squad of Executors or even a Burial Agency member yesterday. I'm not going to let some loose cannon run amok on my ground."

Archer mentally sighed and decided not to prod further. "Well then, I suppose you can't do that if you stay here for the entire War." He smiled before looking past her. "By the way, Rin, it seems you'll be five minutes tardy if you don't leave now."

"What?!" She glanced at the clock behind her and swore. She was late. "Oh no, I can't soil my record!" And without even a pause, she was out the door, with one amused Archer in tow.

The day was beautiful. The clouds had immense expanses of pristine sky into which they bloomed with wispy splendor. In all his years, these were the days Lancer treasured. Scouting during the day was tedious, but it had some advantages, the greatest of them being freedom of movement. Even immaterial, the lives of mortals offered him some amusement. He had almost completed searching the suburbs when he sensed something.

Hm? He stopped to take in the area, hoping to home in on the sensation. From the lilting melodies of chirping birds to the beating of ten thousand hearts, he felt it all. Finally, he found the object of his search; from his perch, a school stood a few kilometers away. The building wasn't unique, but it left him uneasy. "What are you hiding?" he wondered. Without a sound his spirit landed on the roof across from the school's entrance. Again, nothing seemed out of the ordinary: classes changing, bodies moving, people teaching. Then he spotted it: a magic circle.

"By Gwyn's light." He muttered. As he scanned the grounds, the circle appeared again and again, each finding weighing heavier on his mind. When he discovered the fifth node, he realized the intent. This is a soul absorption circle! And if the school is the target…Lancer cringed at the thought. His eyes locked on the closest marker. A bolt of energy shattered the cement a scant few inches from his outstretched foot. Instinct screamed in Lancer's mind, shoving his body into a backwards flip. From the roof behind, he crouched to scan for his attacker. Atop the main building's roof, he saw him: a man in red robes with a bow in his hand. Even from such short distance, Lancer understood the message: Leave.

"Very well," Lancer growled, his voice rumbling like thunder breaking on distant mountains. With a last look, he took off and sprinted back to his master. He didn't care about being followed or not, that was a simple thing solved by his speed. For now, there was a reckoning to be dealt.

At the school, Archer sighed. Perhaps all the timeline traversals had made him soft, allowing an enemy such a free chance at retreat. In any case, he'd probably pay for it later. For now, he had information for his master.

Lunch couldn't come soon enough for Rin. As soon as she heard the bell sound, she was up on the roof before anyone could interrupt her.

"What is it, Archer?" Even immaterial, she could feel the cold frown on his face.

"We had a visitor today. A Servant was scouting out the school while you were busy. They seemed rather interested about the bounded field before I dealt with them." He could feel Rin's panic rising.

"Wait, you opened fire in broad daylight?! Are you stupid or do you want the Burial Agency to visit?" He absently noticed her face had turned a new shade of crimson at the discovery. Archer just smiled.

"Just a warning shot, and nothing that can't be mended before notice. And I wanted to defend my Master's territory."

"T-Then why didn't you drive him off sooner?" Archer decided to explain before steam left her ears. "Intelligence gathering. Even from a way's off, he didn't seem to notice me before I was on him. But he checked several spots for arrays that made up the field before I stepped in. He's probably either familiar with this level of magecraft, or he sensed the energy given off by the arrays. Possibly both." He continued. "Also, he seems quite agile, even in spirit form. He managed to retreat before I even nocked my second arrow, and his instincts seemed unusually sharp once he noticed me. I doubt he'll be fooled twice. From my guess, he's either a very fast Saber or…"

She clicked her tongue. "Servant Lancer."

"Aye. That's how it looks." Archer's frown deepened. This was bad, and things were only getting worse. From what he remembered, not even Cu Chulainn had been that fast or that smart. Any further differences just melted together into pointless trivia.

Rin sighed. "Well, it seems we've found our first enemy. He'll probably come back later. For now, keep a watch. Lunch is almost over anyway, and I've got to reach class."

As Lancer headed to his master, he could feel the eyes of that knight in his core. There was no doubt that man was this war's Archer, but even now he seemed a mystery. His eyes were cold and hard, a trait that Lancer had seen in the faces of only veteran knights and experienced assassins. All sense of passion and battle had left them, save on the battlefields. Often, they moved like Sen's automatons: perfect execution without a shred of purpose. Whatever had given Archer such eyes was a tragedy all his own. One's demise was one's own making. Upon sensing no followers, he headed to Bazett's home.

Bazett let the warm steam of her tea slip in her breath. She felt like things were finally going smoothly…

"And now one of the Masters has turned desperate. They have begun targeting the commoners." Lancer muttered. The cup shattered against her wooden floor. A breeze could've been mistaken for a bomb in the silence. Bazett's face didn't change as she looked at Lancer.

"How many are they targeting?" the words held no rage, but Lancer saw the fury in her eyes.

"Approximately two hundred. The majority are students."

Rage suffused Bazett's face, muscles in her neck tightening and the grinding of teeth thunderous in her skull. Her hands clenched into fists, her nails pressing into the soft flesh. Slowly, she rose from her seat until she remained standing, muscles taught.

"Dammit!" A stray punch struck the furniture, pulverizing the fine wooden table. The table gave and broke on impact. The fine China teacups splintered into broken vessels and leaked wasted tea. She didn't know how long it was before her temper had cooled and Lancer broke her trance.

"Are you finished?" Lancer asked annoyed. She nodded and returned to her chair.

"What exactly did you find?" she asked. And he told her. He told her about the arrays, Archer, the circle, the school, everything. By the time he'd finished reporting every detail he recalled, an hour had passed and the clock read five in the afternoon. Bazett' scowled. "You said the set-up for the circle was familiar?" Lancer nodded.

"A Soul Absorption Circle, one of many abominable sorceries in my time." He spat. "It usually took a half dozen sorcerers to craft one. Once the victims were trapped, their souls would be ripped from their bodies, ready to be consumed for power."

She looked at Lancer. Even after a day and a half, he was still recovering from his last fight. From what she saw, his outer injuries had healed, but his spiritual core was still recovering. She sighed.

"Can you beat Archer in your current state?" Lancer looked at her. She looked back. He thwacked her forehead.

"Master, while your concern for my well-being is welcome, it is unneeded and unwished for. I faced greater beasts with worse wounds and still proved the better warrior. I doubt that this Archer will be a challenge."

Bazett rubbed her forehead. "Alright, point taken." She groaned. "Still, we shouldn't take chances. I don't want a repeat of our last fight." She said, heading downstairs. Lancer felt an eyebrow quirk behind his helmet. Bazett just smiled. "You're not the only one with an ace up their sleeves." She said as the door closed.

"There it is." Lancer said as he let Bazett down. The night air was a cool breeze. Tracing a rune of perception, she looked the building over and frowned.

"You were right. This is a boundary field, and from what you said, it's one of those circles in more than one way." She dismissed the rune, and felt her sight revert to normal. "But this is third-rate craftsmanship, at best. It scarce deserves being called magic. It's offensive how someone could mess up this horribly."

Lancer felt his soul flare in disgust. "This is the Servant's doing." He growled. As if the orchestrator of this wasn't troublesome enough already.

"…Lancer," she started, "if I ordered you to collect souls for power…"

"I would do it. But I will only coat my hands with the blood of criminals and monsters. If you wish me to imitate that," he said, "be sure you have enough Command Seals." His voice had such ice even the First Flame would have quailed before it.

Bazett felt a sense of relief. She'd never make him do such a thing, even if he was willing to a degree. It was a weight off her conscience nevertheless, so she focused on her objective. "You said you were familiar with these types of sorceries," she started. "Do you think you could disable it?"

"Hm," He said, "Sorceries are not my strongest suit, but I will see what I can do." Both Master and Servant closed upon the school, rising before them as if it were a mausoleum waiting for corpses.

With one last leap, the pair landed past the entrance, their forms hidden by the building. "Can you sense anything Lancer?" Bazett whispered. He nodded.

"There are two people on the roof of the main building, and another in a nearby storage facility," he pointed across the school grounds at a small shed directly in front of the school building. "The two are at one of the points on the array." He paused. "And one is a Servant. I would hazard to say they are Archer and his Master."

"You're probably right." She paused. "You said Archer didn't have any skills with advanced magecraft beyond what you sensed about his Origin, right?"

"If you mean how his soul manifested, no. All I caught was a glance, nothing more." Bazett's mind raced through possibilities: boundary fields like this one were similar to those from Ancient Greek texts, so only a magus from that time could cast something like this in scope. That meant one of the Servants had to be from that era or earlier. Unfortunately, Greek legends had one too many figures to fit the role of Caster to narrow down the possible candidates.

That meant they were either collaborating with another Servant, or they had somehow been brought into this and were investigating. She sighed.

"For now, we'll deal with the third one. We can't allow witnesses."

"Shall I kill him?" he asked. She shook her head. "You'll draw Archer's attention if you make a scene like that. Lure him and his Master away from the shed. I'll handle the witness myself. When I'm done, I'll see if I can take down Archer's master."

She could feel the scowl on Lancer's face. "I find that rather ungrateful. Do you mean to suggest I cannot defeat Archer myself?"

"Not in the slightest sense. But this is a war, and if we want to win, we need to exploit any and every chance we get." Lancer felt his shoulders sag.

"I do not agree with your methods, but I understand why you employ them." Suddenly, Bazett felt Lancer's presence move, his voice projected into her mind. At least try to apprehend the Master before killing them. I do miss the thrill of battle.

She removed the tube on her shoulder and unscrewed the cap, extracting a ball of pure lead. "No promises." She whispered. With practiced skill, she began the aria to activate the spell.

"Archer, keep an eye out for anyone, alright?" Rin said as she activated her sense. "Abzug. Bedienung Mittlestand." Extracting the information from her Magic Crest, she began the procedure of disabling the array.

"Unfortunately child, he's already failed you." A cold voice echoed. Her procedure stopped as she looked at the source. A figure clad in splendid golden armor stood in place. Even as he stood on the water tower, she knew he could close the gap like nothing, and she had no chance taking him on directly.

Her eyes narrowed. "Is this your doing?" she asked. The figure never averted his gaze. He spat.

"I wouldn't be caught dead creating such things. Their very existence disgusts me. Does it not do the same for you, Archer?"

Time stopped. The address wasn't directed at Rin, but her Servant. Which meant they'd already met.

"Servant Lancer…" She murmured. The golden knight looks back at her.

"Impressive for a child. You already understand my class before I drew my weapon, and you know that I could outrun you with ease." In an instant a spear of light and wind appeared in the knight's hand. "So child, what will you do?" He was curious, but the aura around him could be likened to a panther ready to strike.

Rin bolted towards the fence just in time. She could feel the spear clip a few hairs behind her as it swung past her head. Too close! She thought. Without a moment to think she saw the fence closing in on her. I have to get to open ground, or I'm—!"

Lancer's body suddenly appeared before her. He'd already outrun her and was forcing her to reroute her escape. "A valiant endeavor. But you won't escape so easy." He said as she turned around.

"Archer!" she called to the empty air for help. Five steel bullets rained down on Lancer from above.

"Rin!" She heard his voice, and the urgency in it.

"I know, I'm on it!" In a single measure her body became lighter than feathers, and she leapt over, and began to fall. It wasn't fast enough. Again her weight changed, this time to heavier than lead weights. Archer catches her fall before impact, and she bolts.

All right, I have to reach the field. Archer and I will do better if we—! She stopped. In the center of the field was a woman with a cylindrical tube slung on her shoulder. Without even asking, she knew. Rin clicked her tongue. "Damn…"

"Finished." She said. Bazett rolled the ball back into the tube and ran towards the storage shed. If the noise on the roof was any indication, Lancer was doing his job. Then there were explosions. And she knew things were going bad. She had to move faster.

Master! Lancer's voice echoed in her head. Archer and his Master-!

"Escaped?"

…Yes. You know?

"Yeah. I'm looking at her right now." Bazett finished. Instantly he materialized beside her, his spear already drawn.

"My apologies, Master." He muttered.

"You can apologize later." She lowered her stance, her eyes trained on the girl. She was impressed that she didn't flinch.

"So, you're Lancer's master?" the girl asks. Bazett looked the girl over. She was young, and to be a Master at her age, she had to be talented and skilled.

"If I am, what's it matter to you?" She replied. This wasn't working, and she wasn't getting any answers this way. For a second, it seemed they were at an impasse. Which Rin tactfully smashed with a few well-chosen words.

"Were you the one who blew up the church?" Bazett blinked for a second in surprise. She hadn't been expecting that.

"Um, yeah. Why ask?" She answered. And immediately realized why it would've been better off lying. The girl was smiling.

"Ah, well then, that's a relief. I thought finding that false priest's killer would've been harder." Her eyes narrowed, and her gaze was harder than steel. "Archer, crush Lancer will you? I'll handle her." The red knight materialized, a shortsword in his hand.

"Are you sure Rin?" He asked coolly.

"I can handle her, so don't worry about me." She said. He understood her meaning, and focused on his opponent. Bazett watched the girl, and felt the gears churning in her head. She said 'false priest', so maybe she was talking about Kotomine?

"Lancer, keep Archer occupied. Kill him if you wish, but I want her to question."

Her Servant nodded in approval, and stepped away from Bazett, while Archer reluctantly followed.

The two Servants began to march parallel. They way they watched, the way they observed, the way they breathed, belied a fierce tension. Lancer spoke first.

"Well, Archer, aren't you going to draw your bow?" He said. "You've already done it four times now." Archer stayed quiet.

Intimidation through silence. Lancer recognized such tactics: a simple yet powerful method. For mortals at least.

"I see. Well then," he raised his spear, poised to attack. "Die."

The golden knight raced for Archer, a bullet of light arching across the field. The distance had been five meters between the two Heroic spirits. In that distance, Lancer had closed it with one step, moved to a swinging stance, and struck. An orange hue overcame the spear, and Archer felt the raw power of Lancer's weapon as it passed by him.

Kanshou and Bakuya appeared in his hands as Archer parried his enemy's attacks. Slowly yet surely, he closed the distance to Lancer.

Lancer swiftly parried the white sword and knocked it away, countering with a series of thrusts. Collarbone, heart, kidneys, thighs, and head, each struck with a lion's ferocity and lightning's speed. And yet those swords came to Archer again, as if they never left his palms to begin with.

What is this madness? He thought. These swords aren't his Noble Phantasms, they aren't meant for a bowman. So why does Archer manage to match me?

It went on like a broken film: Lancer would disarm Archer and strike, but again those damned swords would be there and parry the attack. Again and again and again they danced this way, a golden whirlwind diverted by a red tornado. It was the mark of how Servants fought: in worlds where margins between triumph and defeat could be measured with a laser's precision and still be undecided. At least, that was the common thought.

Bakuya shattered as Archer spun to deflect Lancer's swing, his next attack already started as a counter to the sidestroke Lancer expected to come. That was where he realized his gross misjudgment of the bowman. Instead of a sideways attack, Archer abandoned the sword. And it was then that Lancer felt a chill on his spine rush upwards, a sense of impending death.

"—!"

Lancer forced his body's center to the earth against his own inertia as a familiar black blade whistled straight above his helmet, cleaving his luscious red plum into a short stump. He had dodged the blade, but it was only the start of his mistakes. He'd left himself open to his enemy.

"—ha!"

Archer sprinted towards the moving bullet. He traced Kanshou and Bakuya once more, only to discard them like pointless keepsakes. An instant later, he'd closed half the distance between himself and Lancer, and the next pair came to his hands. He poured od into the blades, enhancing them, strengthening them from the base components upwards, perfecting every part, eliminating every flaw.

The mirrored blades shone and became the wings of doves and ravens. They were volatile, powerful, broken weapons. He was within Lancer's range with his next step, and if he hesitated, he'd surely die.

Lancer saw his enemy approaching. The attack had been planned before the battle had even started, and he'd fallen for it. An instant's survey revealed the trap: all around him, the swords Archer had thrown away or discarded were circling him, cutting all escape routes in a sphere of spinning death. The only way out was through a narrow entrance, the path blocked by Archer, his twin swords on the verge of destruction. It was a foolproof trap, custom made by a Servant with no innate skill. So instead, he had created his own technique, one that was impossible to copy or overcome. Except for those who had faced such challenges. His path before him, Lancer faced his enemy.

"Come Archer!" The golden bullet sprinted towards his death.

One step. That was his window. The time to step on one foot, and fire off the other. He had to see the pattern. That was the trap's key. The blades circled around like an inescapable cage. But every trap had its workings. To cut the one thread that held the net together and escape, he had to see his enemy's repeated acts.

"—ha!" Archer pressed off his second step. He was just outside Lancer's range. There was no turning back. He would kill him, like he had so many others, for the sake of other people's happiness.

Lancer's boot touched earth. He saw it. Escaping the blades was impossible; it was as good as a fact. But the swords weren't untraceable. They circled back, homing in on their mirrored twins again and again. But if two of the copies were destroyed, there was an opening in the cage, if only for a brief moment, before the remainders would fill the gap. But it needed to be at the moment Archer entered the sphere, or the blades would close in around his own copies and cut off escape. It was an insane plan, but it was a possible plan. Lancer felt his soul flare in excitement. He always enjoyed the hardest challenge. Lancer brought his right foot forward, and began to press off.

The golden knight came right for him. He must've thought he could get out of the technique by speed alone. Not even Cu Chulainn could've escaped with his agility. He closed in on Lancer, the deathblow an instant away. That was all Lancer needed.

Lightning Pulse!

A bolt fired from Lancer's spear and struck a pair of the mirrored swords. For an instant, there was the hope of escape. Like a lit flame breaking the darkness, the golden bullet leapt towards the empty space. But he'd miscalculated the time he had, as the other copies rushed to avenge their lost copies with his blood.

"—ngh!"

Lancer cursed the twin blades and their copies. He wasn't going fast enough to reach the opening. He'd be cut into four parts before he reached his goal. He had to be faster. Blindly twisting his body, he aimed at the ground, his spear charging to fire once more. As the shot rang, Lancer could feel his body compressing, shrinking down to carry him further. It was a power that he now blessed with all his soul when he had thought it pointless many times. Without even a breath of space, he escaped. Lancer could feel a cocky smile cross his face, even as he crashed through the second level window.

As Shirou watched the battle of knights come to a halt, his attention moved back to his classmate and the strange woman. He frowned. While Tohsaka was fighting remarkably well, her opponent was on another level, pressing her advance with ruthless endeavor. And with how the fight was progressing, someone was going to die. Shirou felt his hand morph intto a fist. He had to act, to do something before it was too late. He lifted his foot to move, and stopped dead. His breath was caught as his eyes moved leftward. Resting a half-inch to his left was a pitch-black arrow with edges running down its length. He looked at the arrow, and followed his way to the red knight, an empty bow in his hand.

"Dammit, I forgot about him." Shirou saw the foreigner, and realized she was referring to him. He couldn't reason why, but he felt like something horrible was about to befall him. "Lancer, kill him!"

Now he knew the reason: he wasn't supposed to be here in the first place. "Crap!" Without a thought he felt the ground fly beneath his feet as he sprinted for the school building, and prayed that he wouldn't be found by that monster in human skin. Unfortunately, it was the Root's policy to make Emiya Shirou its personal bitch. It wasn't going to stop now.