[center] [img]https://i.imgur.com/cILISdu.png[/img] 
Throne Room, Einzbern Mansion, Einzbern Forest
[@BB] [/center]


Rider sat in a throne, or what one might consider a mockery of such. A disgusting device formed from interlocking blades; an asymmetric monstrosity of spikes and jagged edges and twisted metal. His blades were a symbol of his reign. Even to those who had surrendered without conflict were not spared from this demonic god of war. 

His bored expression conveyed his irked self, his arm sitting on the rest of his “chair” while he crossed his legs, reclining back resting his head on his shoulders. His eyes were cold and inorganic, giving off a stinging light from the flickering fire beside him. 

“You dolls were going off about how a Grail War might be interesting. I thought it couldn’t be the worst thing. This is a waste of my time. Boring. Worthless. If everything in this world is this boring, I shall destroy it. Maybe I’ll even rip apart your little “mistress” while I’m at it!” 

To either side of him was an Einzbern homunculus, voiceless to the complaints of this brutish man. This was his throne room. A place where the desires of the king would always be met. Where the masses, in a single declaration, are used to their limit for the benefit of a single person. That is what it meant to be “king”. 

However, there was no response from these two women, and with an annoyed “tch”, he sighed and stopped laughing. It appeared that he wanted some sort of reaction from these two women, but much to his chagrin, his statement failed to, at least obviously, produce any sort of rise between these dolls. When one was not gotten from them, he simply went back to looking bored.

“Where are you, Slave? When I am bored, you are to come to my side. Never keep me waiting. The next time you make a mistake, I shall punish you harshly. I have already used the two you had left for me, and they had bored me. We shall expand our influence elsewhere. This world belongs to me, yet this city does not? What sort of stupidity is that, slave? You are to accompany me. Gahahaha!”

While Rider was speaking out loud, it was clear that, through the shared connection to his Master, he was able to communicate with them. Though he was the “Servant”, it appeared that he held a degree of disdain for his Master. No, perhaps it was more apt to state that he held a degree of disdain for all who stood before him, and all that stood with him. 

He was the conqueror of cruelty. 

He was the demon of war. 

He was the Grand Khan. 

The King of Samarkand. 

The man who brought cruelty to the world before him. 

He was the king of this castle, and it was his territory. His “city” that he would bring prosperity to, yet ruin to all else. To destroy, so that one may prosper; that is what it meant to be a conqueror.

The Greatest Amir stood up from his chair, pushing himself to his feet with ease. And with that, he proclaimed the person whom he had answered the call of the grail.   

“Hurry, Slave! When I say come, you shall be by my side already! We shall take this city for our own, then the world itself! Gahahaha!”