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[h2][color=gold]Black Rider[/color][/h2]
[h3][i]’NEMETON’[/i], Miyama Town[/h3]
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[@Sageage][@DostHou]
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Seeing as Lancer anticipated his own attack, Rider felt as if this boy had the similar intuition of a warrior that he, himself, was blessed with. [i]No, it’s even better…[/i] While Rider’s comes from his keen senses in battle heightened to a sort of future sight, his opponent’s can be likened to that of an outside force guiding him on exactly what to do. While Lancer’s gift is far more versatile, they essentially both amount to the same thing in combat. In any case, this was just going to end in a battle of attrition that will likely end in Rider’s favor; something Rider wasn’t too keen on happening so easily.

Digging his feet into the ground, Rider allowed Lancer’s punch to land, sending a burst of prana through his entire body to soften the blow. This, however, doesn’t stop Rider’s boots from skidding through the ground as he is pushed back from the force of the punch, dirt flying up into the air. Rider had underestimated this Lancer’s strength the first time, and he does not plan on doing the same thing again even if he’s allowing his opponent to strike him.

The kick to the face, however? No. Nobody gets that honor.

As soon as Lancer’s leg flew for him, Rider’s weapons disappeared from his grasp, fading away and leaving both his hands free. He instinctively ducked his head down slightly before launching his arms up and grabbing Lancer’s leg. With a quick spin in the same direction as the kick, Rider used his opponent’s momentum to toss him away, [i]helping[/i] Lancer disengage from the melee. Rider wouldn’t dare allow some lowly peasant hero to strike him on his face, especially not with their feet. Not even if they happened to be a Paladin of Charlemagne or a Knight of the Round Ta-

… [i]That armor![/i]

Rider’s mood has changed. His impression of the opponent he is facing has changed almost opposite to how he felt just moments before. Now, he was excited that he was fighting another opponent in the same league as the Achaean. Indeed, to a prospective Master, all Knights of the Round Table are considered to be the “cream of the crop” when it comes to choosing a Servant. And to fight one that has been so near to the Grail, itself, in life…

[color=gold]”Percival…”[/color] Rider growled, his expression shifting into some sort of grinning beast. Feeling something flying over his head, Rider threw an arm up to catch it, his body not turning away from his opponent. Once it was in his hand, however, he had to look down at the spear in his hand, raising an eyebrow. [color=gold]”What the hell… ?[/color]

[b][color=gold]“What’s with this piece of trash?! If you are truly Sir Percival, Knight of the Round, then show me your [i]true[/i] Noble Phantasm![/color] [color=gold]Show me that[/color] [color=red]fucking[/color] [color=gold]spear!”[/color][/b]

The piece of trash in question, however, seemed to glow rather ominously in Rider’s hand. As he looked over the spear, again, Rider could have sworn it was just a bit shorter than what it was moments before... 

… And yet, it still continued growing.