[Archer, Backyard, Ryuudoji Temple]

A blinding flash emanated from the summoning circle, signifying the successful performance of the ritual. The incantation had been recited, and thus the Grail had created a container for the existence known as a 'Heroic Spirit', anchored to the world of the living by the 'Master'. However, which Heroic Spirit was called forth to serve was assuredly not a matter of any so-called superior strength on the Master's part.

Perhaps then it was some kind of cosmic joke, that the 'strength of convictions' of the chanting magus who believed only in his own power would not call upon a great hero of old, but rather a 'hero' with not even 200 years to his name.

The light from Rei's summoning circle faded, revealing that which he had summoned. A flaxen-haired young man, perhaps even younger than Rei himself, stood before the newly christened Master, twin revolvers hanging on his hips and clad in a garb evocative of a time not long past. A time of sheriffs and outlaws, of cattle drives and train robberies, of frontier towns under desert sun

—And of showdowns at high noon.

"[i]Hola amigo[/i], you wouldn't happen to be my Master, would ya?"