The Madness Unleashed

The city of Rivenhall stood in eerie silence beneath the crimson moon, its streets littered with the remains of battle. The Holy Grail War had already claimed its first casualties, but the worst was yet to come.

At the heart of this impending storm, a new threat had awakened.

presence unlike any other.

"You feel it too," Abyss murmured, keeping her voice low.

Saber nodded, her fingers tightening around her blade. "Yes. A Servant has entered the war... but it is not like the others."

Abyss frowned. "Then we proceed with caution. We can't afford to be reckless."

Before Saber could respond, the sound of metal scraping against asphalt echoed through the streets.

Both Master and Servant turned.

In the distance, a figure walked through the ruins.

The air around her shimmered, almost like a mirage.

Cyan flames flickered in her eyes.

She moved with an unsettling stillness, her black armor fractured with glowing blue cracks, as if her very existence teetered on the edge of collapse and rebirth.

She did not run.

She did not rush.

She simply walked.

And yet, Abyss could feel it—an overwhelming, crushing pressure unlike anything she had encountered.

"Saber," she whispered.

Saber raised her blade, stepping in front of her Master.

"I know."

The black sun had risen.

Insane Black Rock Shooter had arrived.

---

On the outskirts of the city, the ruins of a collapsed highway stretched across the desolate landscape. Fires burned in the distance, illuminating the battlefield with an ominous glow.

At the center of the destruction, Lucian knelt behind the wreckage of a broken car, gasping for breath.

His body was battered, his coat torn, and blood trickled down his forehead. He gritted his teeth, wiping it away as he peeked over the debris.

Lancer stood in front of him, her massive sword buried in the corpse of a soldier.

The army that had ambushed them lay in ruins, bodies scattered across the battlefield. But it was not over.

More figures emerged from the shadows—mercenaries, bounty hunters, and rogue magi, all hungry for the blood of a Master and his Servant.

Lucian tightened his grip on the gun in his hand. He knew he was practically useless here.

"Lancer... we need to retreat."

She pulled her sword free from the corpse, flicking the blood from the blade.

"Retreat?" she scoffed, tilting her head back with a grin. "Master, you wound me. I have yet to even break a sweat."

Lucian cursed under his breath. He knew that Lancer relished battle, but this was reckless. Even for her.

One of the mercenaries raised a hand, casting a spell—a surge of fire erupted toward them.

Lucian braced himself, but before the flames could reach them—

Lancer moved.

With a single motion, she swung her blade, slicing through the fire itself. The attack split apart, harmless embers scattering around her.

Then, in the blink of an eye, she vanished.

Lucian barely had time to process what happened before he heard the screams.

One by one, the mercenaries fell.

Lancer cut through them like a demon, her blade an extension of herself. She moved with inhuman speed, her strikes precise and ruthless.

Blood painted the ruined highway.

Within seconds, it was over.

Lucian swallowed hard.

Lancer turned to him, resting her sword on her shoulder.

"See? Nothing to worry about, Master."

Lucian exhaled, shaking his head.

"You're insane."

Lancer laughed.

"I prefer 'efficient.'"

Before Lucian could argue, a new presence entered the battlefield.

A deep rumbling filled the air.

Lucian turned—his blood ran cold.

From the smoke, a massive silhouette emerged.

A mechanical chariot, its wheels burning with blue fire, tore across the battlefield. Chains clashed, sparks flying as they dragged behind it.

At the front, gripping the reins with an iron grip, stood Rider.

Her scarlet eyes locked onto Lancer.

The war had found its next battle.

---

To Be Continued...