Chapter Forty-One: The Berserker Overflowing with Integrity

Although Lancer clamored to go and observe "Rin's" movements, Kariya, with admirable foresight, flatly refused his suggestion.

“Prepare yourself. This time, countless people will be bound to this place by the Holy Grail,” Lancer intoned. Though he longed to change history, the world had taught him that no matter how he tried, history would only correct itself by other means.

“Heh, Berserker, I may not be an outstanding warrior like you, but do not underestimate the will of your Master.” After confirming with Lancer that no enemies would come tonight, Kariya decided to rest. For nearly a year, thanks to those damned worms, he hadn’t enjoyed a single good night’s sleep. At last, he could indulge in a moment’s peace.

“Forget it, I’ll go see it for myself.” With that, Lancer donned his mask once more and vanished into the house.

--- Surveillance Interlude ---

Though he knew what the Tohsaka residence looked like, this was Lancer's first time in Fuyuki City. Guided by Byakuya, he made his way there, but along the way, he stumbled upon an intriguing scene.

“Indeed! Rider! I am your Master!” A boy, dressed in the guise of a certain dictator, shouted at the crimson figure seated on the ground.

“Honestly, I know you’re my Master!” Though there was no force in his words, the boy was nonetheless cowed by the imposing presence before him.

“Well well, so it’s the Emperor and his Queen.” Knowing full well the Emperor’s temperament, Lancer strode out calmly, unafraid of provocation.

“Who’s there?!” Waver instantly called out, only to realize something a moment later.

“Who are you calling Queen?!” Waver found himself roaring more tonight than in the rest of his life combined.

“Come now, boy, don’t sweat the small stuff. Who goes there?” The Emperor, unconcerned, addressed the darkness.

“Heh, I’m just a passerby,” Lancer emerged from the shadows.

“Oh? You seem like quite the character.” The Emperor hadn’t expected anyone to actually show themselves.

“Well, I don’t know who you are, but seeing your forthrightness—how about joining my army?” The Emperor, as always, enjoyed recruiting new followers.

“Sorry, my loyalty is already pledged to another. Still, I wouldn’t mind making a trade.” Lancer declined without hesitation. Had he not once become the King’s knight, he might have considered it, but now he refused with unwavering resolve.

“Suit yourself. State your business,” the Emperor replied, unfazed.

“As for you, Master, I possess something rather valuable. Are you interested?” Lancer turned his attention to Waver, knowing that the Emperor would never bargain—only conquer.

“What is it?” Waver, wary of the mysterious, clearly heroic figure, shrank behind the Emperor.

“I know why you’re here for the Grail. I have a little something you might want. If you succeed, even within the Clock Tower, your status will rise.” Lancer continued to tempt him.

---

“What is it? Show me!” At the prospect of elevating his status, Waver eagerly pressed Lancer for details.

Lancer produced a used scroll. Though torn, its powerful aura of light magic was unmistakable to Waver. The intricate magical inscriptions and patterns held his gaze captive.

“Well? Interested?” Though masked, Lancer somehow reminded Waver of a sly old vendor from his trip to the East.

Waver looked pleadingly at Rider. He knew he had nothing the other party would want and gazed at his Servant like a child yearning for a toy.

“Fine, fine, I’ll buy it—just don’t ask too much.” The Emperor, feeling the full force of Waver’s imploring eyes, realized for the first time how persuasive his Master could be.

“Thank you for your patronage.” Lancer handed the scroll to Waver, then turned to the Emperor, resuming his original demeanor. “If I should fall in this war, I hope you’ll protect my Master and his family.”

“What a surprise. On the very first day, you’re already looking out for your Master. An exemplary man—you make me want you even more.” The Emperor’s words, as usual, could easily be misinterpreted.

“Well, the first deal is done. Time to seek my next partner.” Lancer vanished into the darkness, leaving the Emperor looking at his delighted Master. “Little Master, as my Servant’s Master, you must be more composed. This is the true spirit of the Conqueror King.”

--- Transaction Interlude ---

Bounding across rooftops, Lancer pondered where to go next. He had no intention of approaching the Matou household—he held nothing but contempt for that man, who’d sacrificed his own daughter for his so-called ideals. As a self-professed champion of justice and little girls, Lancer would never seek him out. As for Ryunosuke? That one should be eliminated at the earliest opportunity, along with his Servant. Kirei? That man saw nothing of value in the world save his own daughter. The Lancer household? Lancer had no patience for bloodline obsessives and passed over them without a second thought. That left only the place he least wanted to visit.

With Byakuya’s help, he found the house brimming with magic circuits and the scent of gunpowder. Lancer crashed through the window, only to immediately trigger a trap.

Bang! Bang! Gunshots rang out, and to Lancer’s irritation, a few origin bullets were mixed in.

“Alright, Master, you may as well show yourself. I come in peace, seeking only an alliance.” With a cloak spun from shadows and light, Lancer swept aside all the bullets he could not dodge.

“An alliance? I’ve never met a less polite suitor for one,” Kiritsugu Emiya remarked. He knew he stood no chance against a heroic spirit alone, but with his Command Seals in hand, he stepped forward.

“Kiritsugu Emiya, as a Magus Killer you’re truly formidable, but you underestimate heroic spirits. Even the weakest Assassin could kill you face-to-face before Saber arrived.” Lancer shook his head. Hearing this, Kiritsugu actually felt relieved, knowing Lancer would not attack.

“My mistake. Very well, state your business, mysterious Servant.”

“As I said, I seek an alliance. In return, my Master and I will help you defeat the other Masters and Servants, but I ask that, should I fall, you protect my—” Lancer looked Kiritsugu squarely in the eye, “—my Master and his family.”

“I don’t know how you learned my identity, but you must know my methods.” Kiritsugu asked, perplexed.

“I doubt our interests will clash. My goal is simply to meet someone I wish to see. And your own wish—when you behold the Grail, I suspect you’ll become just like me.” Lancer did not elaborate, and Kiritsugu merely frowned.

“So, you’re just here for amusement? What about your Master? What does he wish for?” Kiritsugu never expected fortune to smile upon him in this way—a free extra hand, with only a minor protective task at the end. For the sake of his ideals, it was a paltry price.

“My Master? I’ve already fulfilled his wish. Now, all he wants is to spend time with his ‘child.’” At this, Lancer saw Kiritsugu’s expression shift—he knew the man was thinking of Illya.

“Very well, I accept your terms.” With a deep breath, Kiritsugu realized this decision might change the entire outcome.

“Let’s sign, then.” Though not opposed to Kiritsugu, Lancer decided it was wise to be cautious. Spending 10 experience points, he summoned a contract overseen by “Renhua.”

After reading it carefully, Kiritsugu signed his name, and so did Lancer. The contract dissolved into motes of light before them.

“Now, will you reveal your identity?” With the contract sealed, Kiritsugu knew he could not exploit any loophole—especially after hearing that imposing female voice, which left him no room for resistance.

“Berserker—Lancer!” Lancer removed his mask, addressing Kiritsugu directly.

“Berserker? That makes no sense!” Though he knew Lancer wouldn’t lie, Kiritsugu couldn’t hide his surprise.

“It’s simple.” Lancer pointed to the marks on his face. “I possess the ability to go berserk naturally. I am a Berserker not by force, but by nature. And I can control it.”

“Let’s exchange information, then.” With this new alliance, Kiritsugu thought it best to share intelligence.

“Very well, but wait—my subordinate is about to return.” As Lancer spoke, the sound of wings filled the air, and a great eagle landed on the windowsill.

“Byakuya, project the image of the Tohsaka residence into our minds. Kiritsugu, do not resist.” With that, Lancer closed his eyes.

Kiritsugu did likewise, and a sharp pain shot through his mind as a bizarre scene unfolded before him.

Amid swirling mist, a little girl crouched in the bathtub, her body covered in suds—a clearly voyeuristic view from a vent above.

“Aaah! Byakuya, you traitor! Not this one—I’ll watch it later. Next!” Lancer’s outcry prompted the scene to shift to a shadowy figure breaking through traps, only to be killed by a barrage of Noble Phantasms.

Then, when they glimpsed the golden figure atop the roof...

“Pffft—!” Kiritsugu swore he actually heard Lancer cough up blood.