script - volume one, act three.
The two Servants stop, facing each other from about 10 meters apart.
Finally, they met the first Servant. Saber carefully observed the enemy she will be battling to death with.
He was a handsome man, with quirky long hair combed roughly backward. He charmed the eyes pretty well on the first glance. His main pole, over two meters and taller than himself, is obviously his weapon. Amongst the seven classes, he is one of the three “knight” classes― Saber, Archer, and with them, the Heroic Spirit of the lance. Undoubtedly, he is the Servant Lancer.
The strange thing is that he does not have just that one long spear.
Along with the spear Lancer was holding loose in his right hand, the head resting on his shoulder, he was also carrying in his left hand a shorter spear that was one third the length of the right one.
To handle a spear with ease, the obvious stance is of course to hold one with both hands. Whatever you can do with swords, one can't imagine that holding two spears is common.
The two spears are tightly wrapped from the handle to the tip with a cloth that looks like an amulet, hiding the shaft. This is probably a counter-measure to avoid revealing the true name of the Noble Phantasm.
"How nice of you to come. All of those who were parading around today in the town have only cowered away. ... You are the only one of valor who answered my invitation."
With a humble, cheerful praising voice, the man― the Heroic Spirit Lancer asked Saber carelessly, without standing on guard.
"That pure fighting spirit... Am I correct in thinking you are Saber?"
"You are. Surely you must be Lancer?"
"Indeed. ―Hm, it is unusual to exchange names with the opponent in a deadly fight. That was a pleasure that is not obligatory."
In agreement, Saber loosens her feigned impudence a little.
"Certainly it isn't. Our battle isn't one for honor to begin with. You yourself are raising your spear for your master of this era, are you not?"
"Fuh, correct."
With a strange expression, Lancer answered in a cool, bitter tone, not reminding of someone who wished a deadly exchange. Looking more closely, he is a remarkably handsome and beautiful man.
His intrepid features are a high bridge of the nose and a valiant eyebrow. Despite his hard cut mouth denoting a stoic air, his eyes seemed to hide a quiet grief, yet a strong, manly scent rises from him. Below his left eye, he has a beauty spot like a grain of tear. That gives his gaze an even more impressive brilliance.
Truly, his features were those that could sweep a woman's heart at a glance. ―No, actually, does his elegant air of beauty only come from his features?
Holding back behind Saber, Irisviel shortened her breathing a little as she frowned.
"... A charm magecraft. It is impolite to use on a married woman, spearman."
Clearly, Lancer was emitting a spiritual power that could marvel a woman. As Irisviel's body is a homunculus, it is specialized in the usage of magecraft, and her magic resistance is higher than normal, but an average woman would be enslaved by this man at a glance.
Lancer shrugged with a bitter smile at Irisviel's remark.
"Sorry, that's some sort of a curse I've had since I was born. This is all you will get. Blame my birth, or your womanhood."
An example of a charm curse is a "Mystic Eye", but the only one Lancer has been looking straight at since the beginning is Saber, he hasn't looked at Irisviel behind her. The charm probably activated as soon as Irisviel looked at his face. That would make it a "Mystic Face" instead of a Mystic Eye.
Chuckling, Saber observed Lancer.
"You were not expecting my sword to grow dull with that fine look, were you, spear user?"
"That would be such a kill-joy, but indeed, the anti-magic ability of the Saber class is not vain. ... Excellent. It wouldn't suit my reputation to murder a woman weakened by my only face. I am glad my first opponent has such backbone."
"Hoh, you were wishing for a fair fight. It is my honor to face such a proud Heroic Spirit."
Exaggerating, Saber replied with a quiet smile. It was a smile that is only for those who wish for a perfectly straightforward life-and-death exchange.
"Then― Anytime."
Picking up the long spear on his right shoulder by spinning it once, Lancer raised the tip of the short spear in his left hand. His stance, spreading both spears like wings, really was an unreadable style.
Saber's fighting spirit boiled as well, and exploded. The prana surge enveloped the girl's slender dark suit in a swirl like a tornado― and the next instant, her body was wrapped in a silver and azure armor. The armor and gauntlets created as by magic was the true form of the beautiful King of Knights, as a Heroic Spirit.
"Saber..."
Swallowing nervously, Irisviel called from behind. She could feel the fighting spirit released by both Servants, as well as the atmosphere strained by that tension. ―There was no room to disrupt this battle.
And yet, she couldn't just stand and watch. She was only a substitute Master for Saber.
"... Take care. I can support you with healing magecraft, but no more..."
Without a word, Saber nodded.
"Leave Lancer to me. But it worries me that the enemy Master is nowhere to be seen."
As Saber said, just remaining invisible, Lancer's Master was a danger. Usually, a Master would stand by the Servant and instruct him as the battle develops, as well as providing magical support. As long as Lancer's Master doesn't have full faith in him, he has to be lurking nearby to watch over Lancer's battle.
"He might be preparing an odd trick. Please be cautious. ―Irisviel, I entrust you to watch my back."
Her jade eyes spoke calmly. Fearlessly.
Trust the Heroic Spirit of the sword.
As the one this Heroic Spirit recognized as her master, trust yourself likewise, Irisviel. -Said her eyes.
"... Understood. Saber, bring me victory."
"Yes. I will."
Nodding resolutely, Saber takes a step forward.
Toward the space of the long spear, where Lancer was standing on guard...