[h2]Lancer[/h2]
Lancer decided to not reply to Kazamyr’s words. A Master that didn’t understand the honor of a Heroic Spirit — even of those among them who were worthy being called Antiheroes — was not the kind of person the silver-haired Servant wished to bother herself with. Rider, however, was another story.

“Even though I’m unaware of a Heroic Spirit — especially one of the last warriors to roam the battlefields of Age of the Gods — who would not feel pride in having their identity be recognized by others, I’ll do as you request, Rider,” Lancer said as she stared the ancient king from above, just like an angel chiseled from the most pristine marble. “I imagine that the Holy Grail might be of greater value to some than it’s to others, after all,” she added in cold voice.

“Nevertheless, I shall take my leave now. May the Allfather’s blessings be with you until we cross paths again,” Lancer said as she vanished once more, letting her body slowly revert back into the ether from which it was built.

[i]“We must leave now, Master. We learned more than we could have expected. Now, we must devise a strategy to make good use of this information,”[/i] Lancer said telepathically as she got back to her Master’s side.