The strength of a summoned spirit had never been a simple matter of legend alone.
It rested on two pillars.
The first was the spirit's own inherent power. That was the ceiling. The myth, the feats, the weight of history.
The second was the Master.
That was the floor.
A mediocre hero bound to an exceptional Master could display a large portion of their true might. A legendary hero bound to a weak one might be reduced to a shadow.
It was a cruel equation.
A lesser warrior, fueled by a vast magical reservoir, could overwhelm a king whose Master could barely sustain their presence.
The swordswoman had learned this truth the hard way.
During her previous summoning, her Master had been Kiritsugu Emiya. Powerful, calculating, and well-prepared. She had been able to manifest most of her strength.
Even then, a curse from the Lancer's Noble Phantasm had crippled her from the very first battle. Her ultimate attack had been sealed. Her body constantly dragged down by lingering corruption. She had fought the entire war at a disadvantage.
This time, her Master had been Shirou Emiya.
Kind-hearted. Determined.
And catastrophically low on magical energy.
She had been operating at a fraction of even her cursed state from the previous war.
Until now.
The moment the Command Seals transferred into Rowan Mercer's hand, it felt as though a star had detonated inside her.
An ocean of prana surged through every channel of her existence.
Not a stream.
Not a river.
A sea with no visible horizon.
It felt as if nearly her entire spiritual core had been anchored into the world.
For the first time since becoming a Heroic Spirit, she felt whole.
Complete.
At her absolute peak.
More frightening still, she could sense that Rowan's reserves were nowhere near exhausted.
Even if her output multiplied a hundredfold, he would still be able to supply her without strain.
A Master like this should not exist.
History had just produced a monster.
Rowan studied her calmly as her aura stabilized.
"Looks like you're in good shape."
Her presence had climbed several magnitudes in seconds. It was impossible to miss.
Rowan's eyes gleamed with curiosity rather than awe.
"I don't even know your name yet," he said. "Or what you're capable of. Care to enlighten me?"
Rin Tohsaka had desperately wanted to summon a Saber-class spirit. That alone spoke volumes. Sabers were widely considered the most balanced and dangerous of the seven classes.
If Rowan was going to start researching Noble Phantasms, this was an excellent place to begin.
The swordswoman glanced sideways at Rin and the white-haired Archer.
Neither was openly hostile.
Both were still competitors.
"Here?" she asked quietly. "Revealing that information now carries risk."
Rowan waved a hand dismissively.
"We don't need secrecy."
Rin's eyebrow twitched.
"Tch. Don't get cocky," she snapped. "No one's crowned winner yet."
Yes, Rowan's time manipulation had terrified her.
But real battles didn't happen in living rooms.
Archer specialized in long-range assassination. Killing the enemy before they even knew a fight had begun.
Rowan wouldn't always get the luxury of casting spells uninterrupted.
Still…
The swordswoman considered the situation.
Rowan had already defeated Lancer alone.
And she herself was now restored to full power.
She was not arrogant.
But she trusted her blade.
Very well.
"I am Artoria Pendragon," she said.
"King of Britain. The one history calls King Arthur. Also known as the King of Knights."
"I wield three Noble Phantasms."
"Invisible Air."
"Excalibur."
"Avalon."
"I possess high-grade magic resistance, mastery over all mounts, and defenses that negate most magecraft below the highest tiers."
Rin's face immediately twisted into a mixture of envy and regret.
"So unfair…"
If she hadn't messed up the summoning timing, Saber should have been hers.
She glanced at Archer, slumped against the wall.
She still didn't know his true name.
Didn't know his Noble Phantasm.
Whenever she asked, he simply shrugged and said he couldn't remember.
The contrast hurt.
"Excalibur and Avalon…" Rowan murmured. "Those are excellent."
Invisible Air, mount mastery, and magic resistance barely registered for him.
Excalibur did.
A conceptual holy sword forged from planetary-scale forces, powered by humanity's collective faith.
A weapon that overwhelmed nearly any opposing Noble Phantasm.
Avalon did even more.
An absolute defensive artifact that rendered both physical and magical attacks meaningless.
Two law-tier phenomena.
Comparable to Lancer's causality-based spear.
Worth studying.
Very worth studying.
Shirou, meanwhile, was staring at Saber like his worldview had been flipped upside down.
"Wait… King Arthur is… a girl?"
Artoria answered without hesitation.
"I concealed my gender to rule more effectively and protect my country."
"When I drew the sword from the stone at fifteen, my body ceased aging."
"My actual age is far older than I appear."
Rowan nodded, uninterested.
Biography meant nothing.
Artifacts did.
"All right," he said. "Let's move."
"We're paying Lancer's Master a visit."
"I want to know what kind of scheme he's running."
Behind the calm tone, Rowan's thoughts were already elsewhere.
He had begun refining the spell used to transfer Command Seals.
If it could be perfected…
Then theoretically, every Master in the war could be stripped of their authority.
And all of it could be placed in his hands.
After collecting and analyzing every Heroic Spirit and Noble Phantasm…
Only then would he complete the ritual.
And use the crack this war tore into reality to attempt reaching the Root itself.
Rin stood up immediately.
"I'm in."
She had unfinished business with the priest.
The Church lay on the outskirts of the city, isolated and quiet.
From Shirou's house, it was roughly a thirty-minute walk.
They didn't make it halfway.
Near an old cemetery, someone stepped into their path.
A small girl.
Silver hair flowing down her back.
Crimson eyes that reflected no light.
A purple dress that looked far too elegant for a graveyard.
She couldn't have been older than ten.
Yet the pressure she radiated made the night feel heavier.
The war had just gained another piece.