[h2][center][b][color=00aeef]Saber[/color][/b][/center][/h2]
[h3][center][b][i]District XII[/i][/b][/center][/h3]
[hr]

On principle, the use of modern weapons against a Servant was an exercise in futility.

Discounting the fundamental differences between attacking body of ether and one of flesh and blood for the sake of argument, even the weakest had reached a point beyond humanity, so weapons crafted by humans to kill humans falling short was the only natural outcome.

As soon as the shots were fired however — no, as soon as he saw his enemy and his weapon of choice, Saber threw away such concepts and drew his sword on instinct.

Tizona flashed — a black blade to accompany his ensemble, but lacking in luster. Though it retained its sharp edge and fine craftsmanship, the coloring was dull and resembled more what should be found in a hunk of burnt metal.

But, well, that is why he had named it so in the first place. Transitioning from a run to a dead stop almost instantly, Saber's sword was swung without pause in three arcs, flowing from one to the next without a single wasted movement.

The bullets that had been fired from that gun were much too quick and much too strong — certainly outside of what it should've been possible considering its "specs", and his opponent's aim was true. A single one would have been certain death against a man, to say nothing of three.

—However, Saber was still the Heroic Spirit of the Sword.

Three shots, three rings as they impacted against Tizona and were cleanly deflected away from Saber. The young man stared at his quarry from across their battlefield, able to make him out despite the rapidly approaching night.

[color=00aeef]"—You got a real funny way of greeting people, friend!"[/color] He laughed, putting on an easy smile. [color=00aeef]"This normal for you or am I a special case?"[/color]

At the same time, Archer and — should he be looking in through him — his Master probably felt it.

Something emanated from Saber. It could not be called "bloodlust", and neither was it some form of magic that altered the senses or mind. It was just Saber's own presence, larger than it had any right to be and only now fully noticeable since he had properly focused it toward an "opponent".

It was the same trait that had caused a lion to cower before him with a glance.

That said, though it would surely intimidate a normal human, even a lion was little more than a kitten compared to a Servant, so Archer himself was unlikely to feel much more than slightly on edge at the absolute worst.

He just wanted to see how he reacted, in other words. That said— 

[color=00aeef]"Should I assume you've prepared to make sure nobody interrupts?"[/color] He continued talking without missing a beat, as if discussing the weather instead of a possible fight to the death. [color=00aeef]"It'd be pretty bad if people turned up and got involved in the matter, y'know? What if they hear your shooting and call the police?"[/color]

His banter seemed friendly, and his expression certainly appeared open, but— 

It did not quite match how he looked around the battlefield and back towards Archer, analyzing possible approaches and potential cover in case it was necessary, as well as measuring the distance and current situation.

Though his speed fell short of those who were declared the "fastest", crossing this distance would be trivial under most circumstances. But the fundamental issue was that Saber naturally favored close quarters combat and he was being pitted against someone who appeared to be the exact opposite. Saber would only be in "range" when his extended sword-arm was enough to reach Archer's neck, but up until then he would be forced to defend himself without being able to retaliate against attacks.

In simpler terms— 

[i][color=00aeef]'—Shit. Someone annoying showed up.'[/color][/i]
[hr]
[hider][@DostHou] [@Cu Chulainn] [@DarckLeon][/hider]