In a precise and decisive movement, the tip of Lancer's spear is stopped by an invisible blade just a few meters from your chest. At the same moment, the blade's wielder hurls Lancer away, forcing him to retreat for his own safety. Never letting her guard down, the blade wielder scans the room before letting her gaze fall on you. Her appearance was refined yet resolute, her gaze imposing but still respectful.

"I ask of you, are you my master? The circumstances seem different, but I suppose the patterns—" The blonde's firm, confident voice is suddenly interrupted by a stomach rumble loud enough to draw the attention of anyone around. "... Forgiveness. There's no mana around here in your world, so I suppose I must eat plenty to replenish my energy and sustain myself."

Letting the blade vanish into thin air, she clears her throat before kneeling on one knee and bowing her head slightly. Not in submission, but as a sign of respect and acknowledgement of the situation. Despite this, there is still a slight blush on her cheeks due to the growl from before.

"Before we address the lack of mana— I, the King of Knights, Artoria Pendragon, shall lend you my strength to achieve your goals." Lifting her head slightly, her eyes meet yours. A steady gaze, showing nothing but determination. "My blade will become yours, so I expect no disappointment, Master."