Perching atop a plummeting dragon, trying to behead it, and being steadily melted the entire time was an unpleasant feeling. Not the most unpleasant feeling he'd ever had to experience, but it was pretty high up there. His position gave him a good view of the blonde man foolishly deciding he should [i]push Saber aside[/i] without concern for not making them an easy target.

With the wash of light removing the corruption and disintegration that had resulted from riding the beast until its demise, Archer took he time look around the room. An armory, huh? Not a place he, in particular, would be spending much time in: every weapon provided as a result of their successes had been examined, had its structure broken down, and been committed to memory. Even if replicating the bizarre gun-lance hybrids was something Archer had little taste, nor aptitude, for doing, knowing their structure and abilities would help if someone else decided to use one of the originals.

With the conflict apparently over, the main thing of interest now was Saber's imminent argument with Vash--something the tall man couldn't resist getting involved with, face smirking rather than serious. "If you want to get close to Saber, there are much better ways than trying to spirit her away in battle."