Saber allows herself time to come up to speed. More time to analyze this way, more diverse data points to arrange in the aftermath. It continued to spark some dull sense of pleasure in her increasingly eroded heart that the people of this young world had dedicated themselves so completely to the arts of combat, but that did not make Lancer's Master a worthy foe or a challenge that would require even her current full speed and strength. 

Not a disappointment. Not a failure. When she was alive there were not more than a dozen warriors in all the wide world who were her match. It was simply the case that this was still true in the present. But the fact remains that a competent but flawed warrior amounted to what the kids would call a "speed bump": someone that she would cut down without breaking her stride if she were of the mind to. Not a concern. The Master's fight was not against Saber now that they were allies, but with someone who stood closer to the plane of power represented by that overlarge shield. 

In the end she doesn't wind up employing anything that an onlooker would even describe as interesting in order to win. In her incarnation as a King she might have weaponized her toplessness but now it doesn't even occur to her. There are several minutes of slow, curving hammer blows with a shattered sword and subtle bends away from clever feints and schemes or lazy seeming parries before with a final snap of sudden speed and power she simply grips the top of the tower shield and lifts it and its owner several feet off the ground before throwing Angelesia to the ground in an undignified heap. 

She tosses her sword into the ground the moment after. Her single nod to decorum and the heart of her opponent comes now, as she leans forward and lifts the girl's chin up in her fingertips, which in this moment feel as dangerous and rough as if they were a fresh blade. And then her hand curves and softly pats the girl's cheek. This is how she taught young warriors in her time. There is nothing more or less to the gesture than that. 

"A smaller shield would suit your frame better. I would recommend a thick, soft wood for the material. That way you will not only block an opponents blows but also steal their weapons. But as you are about to ignore that advice, I will gift you an axe instead. A larger weapon will compliment your little wall better, and it is useful to have an armament you do not care about, so that you will become stronger rather than weaker when you are disarmed."

Saber rises and turns away to share a long look with Lancer. The other woman had not moved a muscle during the test except to look at something in her book, even when her Master had suddenly been overrun. It could not have been faith in such fresh vows that gave her such confidence. What had she placed her trust in?

"I have nothing to say to her potential as a warrior," she says with a cold shrug, "Are we allowed, at least, to select the site of battle?"