The darkness of the room was illuminated by the deep crimson sigils etched onto the ground. The summoning circle glowed, and a figure emerged from it.

He was cladded in a silver armour with red linings adorning the metalwork. The horned helm stared down at the one who summoned him, his Master.

"Saber-class Servant. The name's Mordred," he spoke, his voice even yet exuding immense violence that appeared to be repressed, "So you're my Master?"