[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/zS526FY.jpg[/img]
[h2][b]Sylvester II[/b][/h2]
[h3][i]Outside Apartment Workshop on the Top a Building Near said Apartment, Core District[/i][/h3]
[@Unoedipal][@ManyThings][/center] 
[hr]

Lancer had begun his own assault on Sylvester. All Sylvester could think was “finally”. After forcing him to use several of his strengths, it was the least Lancer could do; begin to fight against his opponent in full. Sylvester took the clash, and soon disengaged by “exploding” prana through his arm and blowing both he and Lancer around 10 meters from one another. Glowing within his left hand, the hand that was not armored, power began to explode within him, as if beginning to tap into himself to release what was within him.

“TAKE THIS LANCER. I SHALL END IT HERE!”

“O’ power of men, lend me your strength to defeat those that stand before our desire and salvation.
---INFINITE SILVER DRI-” 

Sylvester stopped his proclamation before it had begun. Looking towards his opponent, he sighed to himself, seemingly resigned to what had occurred. Lancer could probably feel it as well. After all, the person who was anchoring him to this world had been killed. 

“So that is how it ends, huh? I’m sorry it had to be this way, Lancer. hope we can one day have our rematch in another time and another world. Although I know not who you are, your spearman-ship is second-to-none. If this lowly man can stand up against a hero of your caliber for even a moment, I consider myself honored.”


Sylvester said, a melancholic hold taking place upon his breath. After all, he was a Heroic Spirit. The method for victory was something that he never really considered to have mattered, so long as it was the most efficient path one could take. 

Going after the Master would be the most efficient way to defeat a Servant, but for some reason, this circumstance left Rider with a bad taste on his mouth. He did not completely understand why, but he knew he wished this situation would not have ended in such a way. 

“I’ll see you later, old man.”  

An outstretched hand behind him waved off the person Sylvester considered to be a “worthy adversary”, saluting the man and honoring him in his own, strange way. Like a cowboy riding off into the sunset, Lancer’s dream was over, and only Rider’s remained. 

That is what it meant to have a dream of one’s own; one must risk their lives if they wanted to hold the Holy Grail. 

His Master knew this fact. 

Lancer knew this fact.

Lancer’s Master knew this fact. 

But most importantly of all, he knew this fact. 

His opponent’s spiritual core was disappearing back into the aether it belonged to. Rider did not need to see the end of his foe. The victory was his. And so, he returned back to his Master. 

Lancer’s Master had sunk into “nothing”, and so it was time for the two to make haste.