The sandy coast of the Upeh Island had long become the witness for series of warfare, done by men throughout the ages.

Once a hiding ground for pirates, the sound of blasting guns and anguish-ridden shouts had turned to be somewhat synonymic to this location.

Even in the historic event of World War II, this particular island served as an important stage, leaving behind various relics and ruins until this very day.

Due to the rapid process of modernization, those chaotic years were far-gone, and tourists from all over the country would flourish to enjoy the beauty provided by this scenic isle.

However, on this night... this place, which had been subdued by the ghosts of the past, will finally resume its old role again.

As the arena chosen by two great Heroes of the ancient to display their supremacy, which can simply surpass the rigorousness of any present-day wars.

It was a scuffle between animals, and this description was not even meant as a metaphor.

Hiding beneath its undeniably magnificent appearance, was the quadruped’s one and true nature, a belligerent and unruly attacker which fearlessly trampled upon whoever foolish enough to cross its path.

Opposing the coldblooded stallion, was a human-like beast, or rather… that creature had actually once lived as a proper human being.

However, calling such mindless monster as a human would be nothing but preposterous.

As an individual who had abandoned his sense of reasoning, the privilege of being called a person would inexorably being deprived from him.

And, with a single, synchronized roar, the two beasts collided with one another, tearing the tranquil environment of the shoreline like a typhoon.

Dignifiedly sitting with an eminent steed as his pedestal- Servant Rider.

Trading his sanity for an inexplicable amount of power – Servant Berserker.

Their confrontation had lasted for quite a while, as both of them did not show any intention of giving up.

“Come! Let me end your torment.”

Rider exclaimed as he ordered his horse to sprint towards the enemy.

“Guhh..guhh..GUARGHHHHH!!”

Berserker bellowed in reply.

Launching his body in one straight line, Berserker’s action was irrefutably nimble, though its blatancy will cause him to pay later in the game.

Rider skillfully dodged aside, driving the outraged fiend to catch nothing but air, and concurrently acquiring a spot to deliver a lethal blow on Berserker’s back.

He took out his mace and landed a direct strike onto the monster's spine, rendering Berserker immobile.

Rider then ringed his target, releasing a barrage of onslaughts, as his remorseless charger galloped around Berserker's weakening body.

Due to its swift nature, the attacks seemed to be delivered at random, without any organization, and almost barbaric in disposition.

But looks are always deceiving, and the truth is far more fearful.

What lies behind those assaults, was a carefully planned hit, which targeted only the fundamental parts of the body.

Starting from the back: the nape, the middle point of backbone, and the area above rear.

The side: all articulation point of the arms, with the addition of ribcages.

Front: the Adam's apple, the chest, the testicles and the pair of knees.

Rider, in his legends, was once said to have slain an elephant as a child, so his gifted strength had already reached the level of extraordinaire.

Such unbelievable damage power, now dealt upon Berserker's frail region repetitively... even the matter of surviving itself had become improbable.

And that is why; the scene that surfaced in front of Rider's eyes was so terrifying that it could even bring cold sweat to that legendary hero's face.

Completely unharmed, Berserker just looked at him with a pair of empty, lifeless eyes.

Those eyes drew nearer, and a gigantic impact had sent Rider flying off from his beloved mount.

Rider enclosed himself within his ruby mantle, reducing any unwanted combat injuries. While it appeared to be a simple piece of clothing, that mantle actually served as a Barrier-Type Noble Phantasm, an item well known for its protective ability.

However, it failed to absorb much of the shock, and Rider was suddenly pushed into a pinch.

Smiling deliriously behind the swarthiness of the island, was a young magus, whom had been intoxicated by his aria of triumph.

The red leaf-like pattern, which was currently hidden beneath the sleeve of his baju layang, suddenly began to glow, as if reacting to the magus anticipation.

"Berserker... finish him."

Though it was actually only a weak whisper, that command had already pierced right through the Servant's skull, and echoed across his head.

Berserker raised his hand, and a silhouette of red began to take shape, and finally materialized into a blade with scalloped edges.

The size of the blade was nowhere near large, but did not make the weapon any less threatening.

Bizarre hisses can be heard, streaming from the dagger, announcing its hunger for blood and soul.

The wind howled, in the presence of Servant Berserker’s ultimate Noble Phantasm.

Victory for him was decided!

Or at least, that is how the situation should have been.

“No… not this again!”

The remark that came from the young magus’ mouth indicated that this event had happened more than once.

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He tried to recall what actually happened; yet all he remembered was the sudden gush of light, that scorched the entire area with heat that was enough to turn the surrounding trees black as charcoal.

And in the centre of the confusion, lies the magus’ Servant, completely static, with smokes of white coming through the pores of his skin.

There was no clear sign of damage, yet Berserker’s inability to move had spoken more than enough in describing his condition.

The magus fiercely stepped on the ground, channelling his anger towards the undergrowth below.

The same exact thing had occurred before, where Berserker originally dominated the battle, but was mysteriously denied by an unseen force, driving Berserker to corner.

He initially had mistaken it for a mere fluke, but what sort of coincidence would happen two times in a row?

Servant Rider’s Noble Phantasm – yes, there is no other plausible conclusion.

But what good would this information make in this battle?

He needed to end this battle. Any action further than this would be utter stupidity.

And that is when the veins of his hand began to swell, he felt as if his blood was boiling. His Command Spell acted irregularly beneath his thick embroidered hand cover. Mana started to flow mercilessly into the skin of his palm, producing a burning sensation, damaging his Magic Circuit in the process. Stop it Berserker – he cried, but with that sheer amount of insanity, there’s no way for that Servant to step down in this battle.

Berserker leaped out from the crate – a dark reddish aura swirled all over his demented self. His cry of war was replied by the Master’s scream of agony. At this rate, his Master might lose his life due to the overexertion of mana consumption, but what does this fact even mean to Berserker? All he knew, all he knew was this – The horseman needs to be destroyed!

Without any expression, Rider stood in front of his opponent, waiting for Servant Berserker’s next blow. He was somewhat surprised by the Servant’s tenacity, but he could already expect that from a Holy Grail War contender. Yes, a Servant might be an invincible god during his lifetime, but in the end…

“SERVANT BERSERKER!!”

They were still tied down to a weak, mortal being – magus.

“DEMATERIALIZEEEEE!!!!”

Several inches from Servant Rider’s face, Berserker intimidating eyes immediately dissipated into thin air, producing a layer of thin grey smoke.

Berserker’s Master let out a long sigh, signalling the end of his torment.

“You’ve made the right choice, young magus.” After exclaiming that sentence, Rider quickly jumped on his horse, riding towards the endless night, leaving the fatigued Master behind.

“DammitDammitDamnDamn DAMMIT!!”

He cannot control his frustration. His right hand was completely limp due to the previous incident, severing several important circuits in the process. Despite being the Association’s acclaimed genius, he still could not control the behaviour of his Servant. The wound on his hand, the scar on his ego – fuelled his anger even further. He needed to get out of there as soon as possible. Retreat, retreat – return to the safety of his Workshop.

“Ah, good evening , fellow Master.”

He turned his face. A youth with white hair, smiling dazzlingly. He inspected the boy’s clothing, and noticed something really threatening.

“Kuzuryu family crest?!”

Damn, of all the times! He swiftly targeted the boy’s exposed neck, but was halted by the sound of clicking guns.

“I advise you to calm down, Mr. Zulfaqr of Magic Association.”

The armed men started to encircle both of them, ready to blast their mark with complete precision. The kind of precision that would make even an experienced magus tremble.

“Tchh… I might find an opening if I distract them a bit.”

Zulfaqr opened his mouth: “To think that the proud Kuzuryu family will stoop this low. Degrading into a yakuza organization, and following orders from a kid. Where’s your old fart leader, anyway?”

As far as Zulfaqr knew, the Kuzuryu family was led by an aging magus, his age had almost reached 130, and might draw his last breath at any given time. He did not have any heir, so this boy might be the next line of leader. Perhaps the old man had already passed away, and the union turned into complete shambles. If he could provoke and manipulate some of the gunners, maybe…

“Step away from my Master.”

A woman dressed in dark blue clothing, tight enough to emphasize her ample pair of breasts. Her dress looked ancient, almost as if she was preparing for a play in a theatre. The outfit ended right above her knee, showcasing her healthy thighs. Zulfaqr tried not to focus on her body too much, yet it was truly impossible, considering her strong sexual attraction. It didn’t help that the young magus is a virgin with zero experience with female…

Trying to avoid eye (?) contact, he finally realized the ominous-looking crimson spear, and the unearthly force emanating from the woman. There were some undecipherable cravings on the spear, perhaps curses dating back to the Age of Gods. Zulfaqr finally comprehended the nature of his situation:

“She’s a Servant.”

Completely doomed.

The youth smiled again, and said: “Quit with the aggression. I just want to talk.”