[center][img]https://i.ibb.co/4mxw52P/image.png[/img] [img]https://i.ibb.co/9H4SkZ7/image.png[/img][h3]Somewhere in the hills, District XII[/h3][hr][@DarckLeon][@Breo][@DostHou][/center] [color=crimson][i]I agree, gypsy. Those smartasses need to get kicked off their high horses! What is there even to be snobbish about anyway, trying to put a man down for doing what he believes in...[/i][/color] Archer grinned as his Master discussed the sort of clientele he generally received. His opinion on Giovanni was generally positive, at least for a scumbag gypsy. The first few moments with his Master were filled with discussing others they have observed in detail. In Archer's case, he had plenty of choice things to say about their mostly Hungarian subjects. Overall, he wasn't a real fan of the city or its people. Instead, he had marveled at how different the modern world has become. Wagons, communication, and even firearms had advanced to a level far beyond Archer's own understanding... And he quite liked it that way. With a long draw of his cigarette, Archer patted his newly acquired gift from the modern world. The Avtomat Kalashnikova, a true symbol of revolution. With its high caliber ammunition, simply effective reliability, and its efficient cost of production, Archer could only wonder how wars could have been fought if such a weapon was in the hands of the Hussites. Surely, his wagon formation would have been unstoppable... Archer could only feel his victory assured with his hands on the rifle. It seemed that now was the time where formalities would end, and the war would begin in earnest, however. Seeing his Master quickly pack up and prepare to mobilize, Archer's grin only grew wider in anticipation. In the blink of an eye, Archer had entered spiritual form, and his presence quickly left Giovanni's. [color=crimson][i]Luck? Pfft... I'm sorry, gypsy, but I'm going to have to disagree with whatever it was your cards told you about me. I didn't win my battles with good fortune. I won them with my head, my heart, and my superior firepower![/i][/color] As Archer boasted to his Master, he quickly darted around the district's outskirts, maintaining his range advantage as much as possible. As much as he thrived in such a battle, Archer knew he would easily be at a disadvantage if the fight started in melee, especially with another Knight-class Servant. Class differences aside, Archer knew that his enemies would likely be freaks of nature, humans that have far surpassed the limits of their kind. It was only expected, after all, in this war between legends. It didn't take too long for Archer to quickly catch wind of another Servant, a young man in all black. His class container was suited towards scouting, after all. As eager he was to test out his new weapon, Archer knew he needed to take every advantage he could against his opponent. Taking shape atop the hills and with enough trees to take cover behind, Archer took aim, a couple of hundred meters away from his target. As much as Archer praised the AK-47, it did have a few shortcomings to it, with one of it being its effective range. At the same time, Archer was also aware of the weapon's exact range of effectiveness, feeling just comfortable enough to utilize it in such a fashion. It wasn't like he planned to stay at such a distance for too long, either. Instead, it was a suitable place to... introduce himself to his first opponent of the war. Three single-fire shots fired from Archer's rifle, flying towards the direction of the Servant in black. As shots fired at long range with a medium-range armament and with no particular vital target in mind, they simply served as a declaration of battle, the first shots of the Holy Grail War. At the same time, they weren't warning shots, but truly attacks made with the intention of hitting their opponent. Despite being a weapon Archer had just picked up from some street corner, his rifle possessed the same speed and power as expected of a Servant's general armaments, an effect brought forth by one of his skills. Archer fully expected his opponent to be able to deal with these shots. If he were truly fighting other heroes, then such a low-effort attack would mean nothing, after all. All Archer really cared about was [i]how[/i] his opponent would deal with them. He awaited their reply, his smoking barrel and the light of his cigarette easily giving his position away.