[center][h3]Demon (Terror), Shinto Streets[/h3] 
[@Breo] [@ConstantlyComic][/center] 

Could it even understand language? No doubt, that "sound" that been emanating out from it during its descend had a certain timbre to it that was reminiscent of language, but truly being able to understand human language was another matter entirely. Regardless, the demon at least seemed able to gauge the intent behind Siegfried's words as it floated above the streets. 

Just what was it fighting, for that man to be able to survive being so close to it? There was no question about it, a living being should not have been able to shoulder what would happen upon making contact with its body; even for its siblings, that was an ironclad rule. And yet, this thing with its damned [i]shine[/i] had managed it; even if there was the buffer of a sword, it had managed to make contact. 

Would he be able to survive outright contact? The thought alone was enough to make the demon shudder, but it couldn't afford to stay focused on musing over such repulsive matters. No, for now it had to hunt. It was neither brilliant nor powerful, it was not capable of controlling the tide of a battle or dominating its enemy, but out of its siblings, it was without question the one with the strongest defense. And given that its enemy's sword, while inexplicably making contact with its body, had failed to so much as harm it in the slightest, the conclusion was a simple one: unless it possesses a hidden strength, this enemy "cannot kill it".

So then, all it needed to do was wear him down. 

Without warning, as Siegfried approached, the demon's body rocketed forwards at the Servant, clawed appendages reaching out to strike at him. Throat, heart, shoulder, stomach, the four attacks were launched with a frenzied level of coordination, bringing with them that feeling of repulsion that the dragonslayer had acquainted himself with seconds earlier.

[hr]
[center][h3]???, Forest[/h3] 
[@DrowsyPangolin][/center] 

What had drawn Nimrod's attention to the point where he saw it prudent to leave his Master without a word, blocking off their shared perception as he charged headlong into the forest? 

While Ernest had no way of knowing this, it could not have been something of the same make that was combatting a dragonslayer and had nearly emerged at the riverside. After all, while Nimrod could not be called the "strongest Heroic Spirit" of this war, against those beings he possessed an absolute advantage. So long as he was not so prana-deprived that use of his true Noble Phantasm was possible, the thought of a demon born from human wishes and distortions opposing him was laughable. 

So then, as the dove flitted into view of where Nimrod had come to a halt, the question was raised of why?

Why had Nimrod left his Master's side so abruptly?

Why had he materialized his spear?

[i]Why was the hand of a black-haired man now piercing his heart?[/i]

Its eyes empty, the man's head turned to face the dove as it arrived, almost as if it was looking through the dove and into its owner. The hand that had not been impossibly stabbed into Nimrod was lifted up, palm outstretched towards the dove. 

And, no sooner than being able to catch the sight of something crystalline glinting in the palm of the man's hand, was the dove's vision filled with a blinding white. Its karmic line to Ernest was cut immediately, its body presumably destroyed by whatever had just occurred.

A handful of seconds later, the line between Nimrod and Ernest suffered a similar fate.