He kneeled there in silence. When the building's anti-fire sprinklers sprouted on and doused them both in a generous shower, he still kept quiet.
Then, Berserker stood up and raised his right arm before him, grasping on an invisible weapon pointed at her throat. As the air shimmered and the water spray just started to envelop something in the shape of a longsword, he attacked.
Prepared as she was for a sneak attack, she responded in kind. A high swing, she deflected and thrust. He parried, freeing her guard, Berserker weaved his formless sword around for a low blow. She deftly avoided it by hopping back but pressed him with a centre swing aimed at his chest. He reciprocated and they clashed once more.
Saber could see it. The grace and strength behind his swings. Such seamless transitions, the swift movements devoid of wastefulness and honed to efficiency. This was Berserker's real strength. Not mindless rage consuming his charge, but a relentless dance that evoked harmony as it did power with every attack.
Clashing once more, an invisible blade locked in place. Berserker's own then finished materializing. And it was then, when it took full form, did Saber's mind flood with confusion and trepidation.
"Wha—?!" her jaw slackened. Sleek and black, covered in familiar fae runes. Not only did she recognize it, but she could also sense the familiarity of its make as her own carried the same. "It… can't be!"
Water obscured her vision slightly, dampening her hair as well, but nothing could disguise the sword being held against her own. After all, it and Excalibur were sister blades. And it was one that she hadn't seen since the fall of Camelot.
"Aron… dight…?!"
"RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!"
Noting her recognition of the blade, and thus its owner, the mad howl stunned her for a brief moment. It was enough for Berserker to kick her back, freeing their swords. In her stupor, Invisible Air dissipated. Shining divine light bathed the flat of his black blade, momentarily colouring it in its former glory.
'There's no mistake. It… it's genuine… But… But… that can't…' Questions overtook her thoughts. She couldn't think straight. Hence, when she spoke, it was in broken, shaken speech. "Why… are you… What happened… to…?"
'Why do you abhor me?' 'Why are you consumed by rage?'
Many inquiries came to the fore but none were asked. Not a single proper sentence escaped her lips. Nothing apart from the utterance of his name. The name of the most loyal of the Round Table. The most exemplary of all knights that even she strived to emulate in life.
"… Sir… … Lancelot…"
He didn't respond. The silence was all he gave.
CRACK
That was until his helmet shattered in clean halves. And metal fragments fell away, revealing not the smiling handsome face of a friend of old, but instead one glaring with rage and fury. Of teeth gnashed and ground to the point of sharpness in his madness and insanity. Of tresses of hair unkempt and wild. Of eyes bloodshot and glaring, absent of any and all rationality.
Gone was the façade of the most honourable knight in the realm. Gone was the composure he used to address their colleagues. Gone were the caring eyes Guinevere fell for. Gone was the very humanity that she admired of him all those years ago.
Arturia Pendragon froze. Her stoic face was replaced by horror as she came face to face with the corrupted, broken man the Knight of the Lake, her old friend and the best knight of Camelot, had become.
"AAARTHUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUR!"
With his helm gone, to see and hear the very man she'd respected and rely on… growl her name with such detest and loathing in his voice… It was heartrending.
Not that her state of mind was any of the mad knight's concern.
"RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!"
"Sir Lancelot, wait—!"
He did not. Heavy swing followed by a graceful thrust. She retreated. A swift stab that turned into a disarming strike. She fell back further. An upward swing that was chained with a mighty cleave down and almost beheaded her. She had to lock blades with him. Worse still, she had to come face to face with his horrifying mug and see the very light in his eyes had already long since vanished.
All that was left of the man was a burning desire to tear her apart.
"Sir Lancelot… Please… stop!"
He refused and pushed even harder. Allowing her blade to slant slightly, she slid away from his push and blocked the resulting side swipe. Getting a little breathing room, she tried to think of a way out of killing her former colleague. However, seeing him like this, she was certain not even her questions would be designed as a response. Apart from claims to her life, that is.
But maybe, there was another way.
"RAAAAAAAAAAAGH!" She evaded another strike but then feigned an attack to his neck. Her attempt was blocked, but that was expected. Sweeping Excalibur's guard down to meet with Arondight's own, Saber forcibly locked blades with him again. Only this time, she tried her best to speak while restraining his attempts at escape.
"Heed me, old friend! I do not wish to fight you!" Though met with yet another howl through grit sharpened teeth, she persevered. "I apologize! I… am sorry! Because of me… Because of my failure as your King, I have ruined you. I have brought ruin to our kingdom! To Britain and Camelot!"
Sparks flew from his sword grating against hers. Neither would break in the other's lock, but only time would tell how long she'd be able to hold him back.
"I failed you, my knight! I… have failed us all. Those of the Round Table. My Queen and confidant… Everyone!" Her eyes became wet, and it wasn't the sprinklers as those had long since stopped raining, leaving the whole parking lot a dim and damp mess with only two knights still locked in a struggle. "But forgive me, for I cannot accede the Grail to you. No matter your wishes, I wish to demand something of it. I need it to make things the way they're supposed to be! To return the Sword of Selection back to the stone and prevent an unworthy one such as I from ever drawing it again!"
It was at that point that the strength Berserker put into resisting suddenly waned. Not that Saber realized it for she was far too lost in her emotional confession.
"I must win this war… so that the mistake that was my reign would be undone. So that someone else, another more worthy of Caliburn and the crown, can take my place and lead Britain to a brighter future." She made a small nostalgic yet pleading smile. "Please, old friend. I beg of you… Let me fix everything… Let me erase my sins from history and allow you a brighter future."
For a moment, all was silent. Perhaps, he'd come to understand her. Maybe, he'd concede then and there, as a sign that there was still a fragment of the man she knew within the beast.
But then… Lancelot's grip on Arondight shook violently. A sudden burst of strength broke through her lock on his sword, forcing her back.
"Aaar… thuuurrrr…" Her name came out slurred. The look Lancelot gave her stayed the same, but the impotent rage he'd been exuding seemed to be amplified tenfold. "AAAARRRTHUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUR!"
"What the—?!" She couldn't contain her surprise when she blocked his next strike. He not only swung down with enough power to force her to a knee, the floor beneath her cratered under its weight at least a foot deep. "What are you doing, Lancelot?! Did you not understand me?! I said I need to do this for everyone's sake! For your and Guinevere's—!"
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGHHHHH!" His response was not a mad howl. In fact, it was pained. Hurt beyond belief at what she'd said. But there was no way she'd notice when that same pained man was attempting to cut her down.
The man's loyalty mixed with frustrations was but a cloud of madness to the naïve King's eyes. And the end result was a relentless clash of a holy sword against a cursed blade. Sparks flared. Not just the air, but the wet concrete floor was littered with fading embers as Lancelot's attacks went beyond glancing blows to rending their surroundings asunder.
Saber had to fall back, unable to bring herself to go on the offensive as he was. Over and over, she deflected and dodged to no avail.
"Why can't you understand?!" she cried. "Why must you get in the way?! Old friend!"
"RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!" he overpowered her yet again with another howl.
"Why would you not allow me a chance to atone? Why do you obstruct my path?! I thought you of all people would understand me?! Sir Lancelot!"
Her pleas went ignored as she deflected another swing. Chambered behind it, however, was a stab to her throat. This time, it got very close to skewering her throw had she not dodged it at the last minute. Upon nicking her skin slightly and drawing the most amount of blood yet, Saber resolved herself.
"Very well…" Hardening her heart, she parried the next strike and kicked him back, making distance and buying time to reaffirm herself once more. "I will not… hold back anymore. Not for you, dear friend."
There would be no convincing him. And should she hesitate any longer, she'd only end up sabotaging Irisviel's rescue. And maybe even Kiritsugu's life, hence her wish. Gritting her teeth and suppressing the tears, she steeled herself into slaying yet another one of her knights.
Excalibur glowed with its blessed lustre as it always had. But in her grip, it wept at the realization of tasting yet more of another one of her comrade's blood.
"If you cannot accept… No… that'd be unfair as you can't even comprehend what I ask of you… in your madness… Forgive me." Her golden blade was once again trained on his throat. This time, with regret weighing it down slightly. "Should you still be able to hear me… in your heart… I pray you to forgive me… For I shall have to cut you down myself, SIR LANCELOT!"
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRTHUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURRR!" Lancelot—nay. Berserker charged.
Aiming for her throat, he lunged. She parried. Chambering a follow-up for her torso, he sliced at her. She blocked and counterattacked. Not even evading it but allowing the blade to graze his breastplate, he got close to punch her with his free hand. She avoided the fist and threw an elbow to his chin which he deftly avoided.
"Aaaagh…" he growled. But although it was quieter than his usual, she didn't see it as him backing down. In fact, she sensed him putting his all.
The water on the floor reflected the tinge of blue emanating from Arondight's blade. It was only through pure instinct that Saber knew to charge up her own magical energy before he struck.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH!"
"HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!"
Battle cry met with mad howls. Golden light clashed with torrential blues. The power behind Excalibur warded off Arondight's own blast, but just barely. Though the blades were not equal, their wielders' might have made it so. And with Knight of Owner being rescinded due to the presence of the cursed Unfading Light of the Lake, Lancelot's parameters, amplified by Mad Enhancement, had potentially exceeded that of his former liege.
The Sword of Promised Victory grated against its sister blade with a painful shriek every time Arturia swung it. Both representing the pain and torment to be found when being rejected by someone who'd been dear to her as well as needing to kill them with her own hands.
It was a hard-pressed battle.
Clash after clash ruptured and shook the building. But although their attacks threatened to collapse a mere section of the parking lot every swing, neither of them relented in their battle of the ideals and wishes. Though, even now, Arturia wondered what her most loyal knight was thinking as they fought like they never had before.
'To think you'd be my bane… when in life, you were my crutch.' Saber muttered to herself as her battle instincts screamed at her to duck. Arondight's black and blue steel managed to clip a few hairs but no more. Had she been too late, the sword's anti-dragon properties would've ended her then and there. 'I wonder… was your madness… a fault of my own as well? Did my mistakes… my ineptitude as ruler… turn your honourable self into this?'
"RAAAAAAAAAGH!" His growl came accompanied by yet another graceful strike to her head. Even in his madness, the man clearly knew her weakness.
Though it may not truly have been necessary anymore as she lacked Avalon to even keep any wound of hers sealed indefinitely, but it spoke well enough of Lancelot's understanding of her. Of his former King.
Each and every attack was measured and practised. Akin to moving in a practised dance that resembled their training spars from eras long past. He knew her as well as she knew him. Or, as well as she'd hoped she knew the man.
"HRAAAAAAAAAAGH!" An armoured fist knocked her counterattack aside as Lancelot pushed for another neck slice. Saber would've simply dodged it and waited for another chance opening.
However, she no longer had the leeway to play by the rules. That her foe was aware of all her skills and abilities, of her habits and favoured stances, made winning harder. Which was why she caught the madman by surprise when she ducked below him and threw debris into his face.
"I pray you find safe passage in the next life once more!" Reappearing directly behind him, she apologized. "Sorry!"
"GAAAAHAH!" Blood spurted as a golden blade pierced the knight and exited his front. Not only did she manage to tear through armour and bone, but she'd also ripped through and tore away at her ideals.
A backstab was not a chivalrous way to fight. However, in the face of an adversary, she had no chance of beating as quickly as normal, picking the dirtiest fighting method was all she had. It pained her to even resort to such when she tried her hardest not to. But… even so…
"Even if I were to be called a fool… Even if I were to be shamed as a failure… Even then, I shall win the Grail." She muttered aloud but sounded as if she was trying to convince herself. "For if I don't… there'd be nothing left I can offer as recompense… for my sins to you… for my sins to all… Sorry…"
This was fine. So long as she was the only one to be damned to hell, it was fine. So long as she could offer salvation to those she held dear… Even Lancelot would understand! Clouded by madness now, he'd surely—
"Ah… My fool… of a king…"
"Eh?" caught off guard by the raspy yet familiar voice, her eyes widened when she saw his eyes peering at her over his shoulder. The pity in them, absent of insanity, rocked her to her very core.
"To continue… making that face… even now… …" Lancelot's breathing stilled as he spoke legibly for the first time since ever. "I will tear… it away!"
"You can under—GAH!"
As the softness of his voice stalled her train of thought, the tension rose sharply when he screeched once more and backhanded her in the face. Pulling her sword along, a gaping hole was left to bleed profusely in the man's chest. But that didn't stop the Servant of Madness from mumbling to himself.
"My… King…"
"You… understood me?" Saber grasped at straws as she hoped against hope. " Sir Lancelot! If you can come to reason in your state, why do you—?!"
"You… are a fool…" her breath hitched as the man, formerly silenced by madness, proclaimed with such sorrow and hate seething in his gaze. "As… your knight… it is my duty… to end your… suffering… NGAH! AH! AH… AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"
As if suffering a delayed reaction to the hole in his person, blood escaped the man's mouth as he further lost any signs of reason and fell back into madness.
"AAAAAAAAAAAARTHUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUR!"
CLANG
The scream of her name was all the warning she got before she intercepted a devastatingly powerful blow. Despite being wounded, he was still going full throttle as his attacks resumed.
But unlike earlier, when she thought she was facing a man who'd lost all reason, her resolve wavered. That he could speak, that he could understand her, it all pointed to the fact that he'd perceived everything she'd said. But, to continue fighting in his state, that meant…
"Why?!" she cried as she blocked and countered his attack and follow-up parry. "Why must you get in my way?!"
He didn't answer. Just attacked.
"Why do you stand against my path of reconciliation?" Saber swung at him, sword barely grating against a shoulder plate before ducking under his fist. "Why must you reject… my attempt to right all wrongs?"
He didn't answer any of her pleas. Apart from swinging at her, he continued to ignore it all.
Then, with a wave of his once-holy blade, Arondight blasted a huge wave of water gathered from their surroundings as a high pressure stream in her direction. In the instant it fired, Saber could do nothing in her stunned state but block it all with the flat side of her blade.
"I… will save… you…" She heard his mutters over the heavy gushing of water. It got stronger when he screamed, the madness returning to his once sane voice. "I WILL SAVE YOU, AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARTHUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUR!"
She didn't understand. Save her from what?
She was not the one in trouble. She was not the one who was wronged. It was the world. Her country. Her people. Her comrades and family.
It was they, all of them, that she wished to save. From whom? Of course, from herself.
From the mistakes, she'd made. From the path of ruin, she led them all to.
Had it not been her… Had it been someone more than her… then, no one would have to suffer. Nothing would have turned out the way they went. Nothing good ever came of her actions!
Why is it that no one could understand that?
Why must they stand in her way?
No longer.
CLANG CRACK
The ground beneath her cratered once again as she stopped Lancelot's most devastating attack yet dead in its tracks.
"This is the only way to fix everything." Calm was her voice. But, in truth, she'd only hardened her heart further, suppressing any and all emotions. That's right. Wearing the mask of the King once more, killing the girl that wielded the holy blade. All for the sake of seeing things through to the end. "I know this path would damn me, however, I will do whatever it takes. Even if it means striking you down, my old friend."
"AAAAAAAAAARTHUUUUUUUUUUURRR!"
The knight's black blade glowed an iridescent blue. Water droplets flew from the puddled flooring as small darts and spears, aiming to skewer her from all sides.
With the blessing of the Lady of the Lake, Arturia Pendragon wouldn't have been harmed at all by this technique. But with the legend of Arondight slaying, a dragon, any and all attacks perpetrated by the sword carried in itself anti-dragon properties. Something her dragon core and blood made her vulnerable against.
But, it wasn't just a single fae of legend that blessed her.
"O, wind, guide my steps."
Wind buffeted water. A large gust enveloped her form, rending all the droplets as but rain against the pavement. But just as it clad her, she also transfixed the wind's blessing onto Excalibur, speeding her attacks.
A slash down was followed by a gale. A thrust was faster than the eye could see. All of which is a testament to her inhuman physical strength in life amplified by her stats as a Servant of the present. The fact that Lancelot managed to evade and mitigate most of it, however, was also a clear example of his luck and skill on the battlefield.
But avoiding her for long was never to last. Not when he was already pierced and wounded once.
And especially not when his Master was but a hollow corpse pushing through on willpower alone.