For Kayneth, the barrier's alarm signaling an intruder wasn't cause for panic. He even took the time to change out of his battle-soiled clothes and into a fresh set.
Above the 30th floor of the hotel, there was no one else but Kayneth and his group. It was clear that a magical suggestion had driven all unrelated individuals away.
Kayneth appreciated this kind of textbook Magus conduct. Through the barrier and his familiars, he could clearly see who had arrived—it was Tenkei Shiomi, the same man who had been in the Einzbern Forest just moments ago.
Trailing behind him was his Berserker Servant, now fully armed.
Although Kayneth had spent a large amount of Mana earlier defending himself and fleeing the castle hall from Berserker's assault, he was back in his workshop now. Even if it came to a drawn-out battle, he was still confident in his ability to win.
He had paid handsomely to reserve the Hyatt Hotel's top floor and transformed it into a large-scale Magical Workshop.
Of course, the transformation was magical rather than physical.
He had set up twenty-four layers of bounded fields on the 32nd floor—defenses so thorough they could be likened to a fortress wall of Magecraft.
In addition, he had three dedicated Magical Energy Reactors to provide and replenish magical energy.
As a countermeasure, he had also summoned dozens of evil spirits to replace traditional hounds as defensive entities.
It was home turf in every sense. Kayneth sat in his chair, sipping champagne, calmly awaiting Tenkei Shiomi—who would inevitably be drained by the workshop's traps—to arrive before finishing him off.
He was itching for bloodshed, and Shiomi coming to die at his doorstep couldn't have suited him better.
"Don't think that Sealing Designation Enforcers are the only ones who know how to fight. When it comes to real combat, I'm not inferior to any Magus," Kayneth said to his fiancée.
Normally aloof, Sola-Ui offered him a gentle smile. "Of course. I'm looking forward to seeing what you can do."
Her words only fueled Kayneth's fighting spirit. He had even timed exactly when to go out and face Shiomi.
If Shiomi collapsed on the way up, killing him wouldn't feel like much of a victory. Worse, Sola-Ui might look down on him for it.
First things first—check on Lancer.
With that thought, Kayneth linked into his Servant's vision and hearing to assess the battlefield.
Lancer hadn't seen combat tonight and was in peak condition. He did feel slightly guilty about intercepting Shiomi like this.
But it couldn't be helped. Avoiding battle now would be a betrayal of his Master.
When he saw Shiomi exit the elevator on the 31st floor, Lancer stood in the wide hall and gave him a slight nod.
Berserker followed close behind, but that didn't bother Lancer.
Servant vs. Servant, Master vs. Master—that was the natural order.
Understanding Lancer's silent permission to pass, Shiomi didn't hesitate. He simply said to Morgan, "I'll leave this to you," and walked past Lancer, heading upstairs.
The elevator's access to the top floor had been disabled, so Shiomi had no choice but to take the stairs—even though they were riddled with traps.
Out of the corner of his eye, Lancer watched Shiomi vanish into the emergency stairwell before turning his attention back to Berserker.
Her features were identical to Saber's—only her hair and eye color were different. There was no doubt she was a Servant with a blood relation to her.
If that was the case, then last night's skirmish at sea may not have been hostile—it might've just been a mutual probe.
A Berserker and a Magus.
Lancer tightened his grip on his twin spears, his gaze locked onto the magical lance once used by Tenkei Shiomi.
No declaration, no signal—the battle had begun.
Lancer shot forward like an arrow, closing the distance with Berserker and thrusting his longer red spear.
Clang!
The weapons clashed, then locked again in close quarters.
That Berserker could fight in melee came as no surprise—Lancer had anticipated it.
As a spear-wielding Servant himself, Diarmuid was genuinely pleased to face another combatant skilled with the same weapon. That alone made the battle worthwhile.
There was no longer a need for tactical feints—the opponent had surely seen through the true name of his Noble Phantasm.
No need for probing attacks either—the enemy was already at the gates. This was a battle to the death.
Lancer's twin spears moved like the wind. Morgan didn't hold back either. The two exchanged fierce strikes, their weapons spinning and clashing in a fluid, relentless rhythm.
Their techniques were too fast for the eye to follow. Within a single minute, they had already exchanged dozens of blows before parting once more.
"That spearwork…" Lancer's expression grew serious.
"Oh? As expected of a Lancer Servant—just one exchange and you could tell," Morgan said, holding her spear one-handed.
"So it really is," Lancer murmured, stunned.
The answer was obvious—Morgan's spear techniques were identical to Tenkei Shiomi's.
But who taught whom? Did the Servant teach the Master, or the Master the Servant?
Either way, it made no sense.
The reason was simple.
Whether it was Tenkei Shiomi or Morgan, that level of mastery couldn't have been developed in the short time since the Holy Grail War began. It wasn't something one could acquire overnight.
More than that, Morgan seemed to know exactly how to fight someone like Diarmuid, who used twin spears.
Every time he tried to thrust at her with his red spear, Morgan would counter fearlessly with her own magic spear.
It wasn't an attempt at mutual destruction—Lancer understood that clearly. Because he wielded two spears, he had to grip them closer to the center to control them one-handed.
That meant even the longer spear had its reach compromised.
Morgan, however, was different. She held her strange magical spear with both hands. It was longer than standard, and when she struck, she didn't need to wait for Diarmuid to land a blow. Just by gripping the end of the shaft, her weapon's tip could already reach him.
No matter how many times he tested it, the result was always the same.
"I didn't expect to meet someone so familiar with anti-dual-spear tactics…" Diarmuid felt a mounting pressure. "I assumed you weren't a close-combat fighter. Seems I underestimated you—somewhere deep down, I let my guard down."
He had no interest in uncovering the relationship between Berserker and her Master. It was irrelevant to him.
Diarmuid withdrew his short spear and spun the red one a few times in his hand.
"Now that the secret of the twin spears has been exposed, I won't rely on luck anymore."
Losing one Noble Phantasm was a handicap, but it was better than having his style completely countered—and dying for it.
"Lancer, Diarmuid Ua Duibhne—shall face you with a single spear!"
Morgan gave a faint smile, her magical spear raised, its tip already trained on Diarmuid's head from afar.