Berserker of Black, Frankenstein, didn't show it much in her expression, but she was troubled.
Obeying her orders, she had at first prowled the battlefield looking for enemy Servants, and she had leapt into the forest after seeing a human figure there, but what she found there wasn't a Servant, but instead—
"It seems you're my opponent, Frankenstein. The sorrowful monster created by humans in pursuit of an ideal. In a certain sense, you are both a turning point and a midway being that should be aimed for."
The one who whispered those strange words as if subtly mistaking the situation was a human. He didn't seem to be a Servant. But was the man before her eyes really a human being?
For some reason, Berserker of Black's intuitive perception was vague on that point.
"Uu——"
Dragon Tooth Warriors were attacking her, but she dealt with them easily. On the other hand, since they never laid a hand on the man in front of her, she was able to comprehend that he was on the enemy side.
But even so. Why did he know her true name?
Just like how her Master Caules had been surprised, Frankenstein was generally recorded as being male, and a huge man who could stab the clouds at that. So it shouldn't be possible for anyone to guess her identity based on her appearance.
...Had he met her during her lifetime?
That was also impossible. She was a young Heroic Spirit who had been born right at the very end of the era when mysteries could still come into existence. There were few people who had lived in the same era as her that could have become Heroic Spirits, and even if there were, she had never chanced upon meeting any of them.
So did someone expose her true name to the enemy...?
"Yes, you truly are distinct. Though a Berserker, you retain a certain degree of higher-order thought. Truly a modern Heroic Spirit."
While giving a carefree smile, the man held out his hand to Berserker.
"I know and understand you quite well. How about it? Would you be interested in coming over to our side to replace Berserker of Red?"
At those words, Berserker became filled with wariness and growled menacingly. The man let his hand fall back down with a bitter smile.
"That's useless, my Master."
Berserker's wariness increased further. Behind the man, this time someone who was clearly a Servant appeared. There was a thin amount of prana being emitted from him—and his clothing was hardly suited for a battle. Was this the enemy Caster?
"Oh my, how rude. I have no intention to fight in the least. The one who will fight is this Master here. I merely watch over and support him."
Saying such a thing that was unbecoming of a Servant—he took one step back as if to use the Master as a shield. There was no sign of him using any magecraft to attack. Unbelievably, it seemed this Master... truly intended to fight her one-on-one.
"That's right. The one to fight will be I, Shirou Kotomine."
The instant he let his arms dangle at his side, [hilts] appeared between each of his fingers. Berserker couldn't tell what kind of weapons they were with her scarce knowledge.
But those who had seen them before would probably immediately recognize them. They were Conceptual Armaments that dispensed purification and took the form of blades compiled out of prana, known as [Black Keys].
