Rider was in a foul mood. Throughout the war, he had hoped to find a challenge worthy of his legend. He was uninterested in facing off lesser foes, having sought out only those worthy to face the mettle of his blade. In the end, however, while he had found a warrior, no, a dragon
worthy of facing him, he chose to instead focus on retreating, as if he treated their battle as some mere joke. His other rival, who had looked rather weary from their last fight, had also lost his weapon that night, and the idea of fighting him without that spear would give Rider a feeling of discomfort. Rider's anger only festered throughout the night as evident by the many trees brought down before him. Even his loyal steed, Falke, looked to Rider, worried of his prince's well-being."Falke, let's get going. If I couldn't find that bastard knight and his little lover in Shinto, it only narrows down our choic-"
... Rider froze in his tracks as soon as he felt that
presence. He felt... greatness, as if he were to face off against another paragon of humanity; and yet, it wasn't something that pleased Rider. Not at all. As soon as he felt the land metaphorically singing praises and heralding the man that had come after him had Rider known that this opponent was somebody he does not
want to face. There was nothing, however, that could stop Rider from fleeing. It was not in his nature to run, and there was something else about that man that called to Rider.
It was an opponent that he must face, as much as he shouldn't.
The name he was beckoned with. The command that was given to him. The blessed looking armor. The sickly red sword. The sword.
These factors about his opponent had all confirmed Rider's suspicions as to who he was facing. If he wasn't the man that he was, he would find it right to run, to flee from such a man, one who had walked with the footfalls of an empire, but he could not find it within him to run. As a matter of fact, he was almost physically
unable to, feeling the pressure of his opponent's, that Emperor's
call to arms. This fight was going to happen, whether or not Rider chose for it to happen.
Such a command also had the effect of making Rider even angrier."... Let's make this worth our time."
Rider had growled through gritted teeth as he looked to his opponent, drawing that traitorous knight's blade once again. He briefly considered drawing his shield, as well, but it was a thought that was quickly dismissed. Indeed, if he were to face off against that man who had fought and overpowered the King of Knights despite being otherwise ordinary, then he would require the full control of his blade and his body to defend, to avoid
his attacks. Even without his instincts, Rider knew enough that he would not want to take his chances against the strikes from that sword.
And, with a burst of his own energy, Rider had charged towards that Saber. On his way way there, orbs of dragon's fire, intensified by Rider's growing rage, had been thrown to his opponent. It was a flurry of flames with the power to best most men, yet at the same time, Rider had only used them as a means of a distraction. If this Saber he was facing truly was the Sword Emperor
, then even Rider's flames would serve as a mere nuisance to him, an inconvenience at the most.
Rider needed his opponent's senses to be occupied, after all, in order to perform his next attack. Rider's sword, which he held with both hands, began to crackle with golden lightning as he made his way closer to his opponent, and when he was close enough- which would still be considered many meters too far from the range of Rider's blade- he had shouted that dastardly blade's name.
Sword of Deceitful Victory
With Rider's call, the energy crackling within the blade coalesced into a sustained beam of light, the energy surrounding it being converted into true ether in order to maintain its shape. The blade of light
had extended Mimung's effective range into that comparable to a spear's, and Rider had chosen to take advantage of this blade's aspect while he can. As soon as Lucius Tiberius was in range of Mimung, Rider would cleave it through his opponent, aiming to bisect him; a slash with the intent to kill.
The true effect of Mimung is to cleave through armor as if it were cloth, the energized sword pouring out from his blade carrying the concept of 'cutting'. It was with this effect combined with the method Rider used it to nullify the magical defenses of his opponent that made his attack much more dangerous to his opponent. As soon as his slash was completed, whether it managed to strike Saber true or not, Rider had shifted his stance into a defensive one, placing his blade in front of him in a matter where he would be able to quickly intercede any attacks made by his opponent with it, provided that Saber had made the distance, something that Rider wouldn't allow. His goal in this fight is to maintain an aggressive defense
, taking advantage of everything he can to defend against Saber's attacks while capitalizing on any openings he could find. Saber wasn't an opponent he was interesting in gauging, instead focusing on killing him as soon as possible while making sure that Rider, himself, was not hit.
Rider's instincts flared as they prepared to help him engage in a battle he could so easily lose...