Shirou's Grand Heroic Saga

Fiore stared at Shirou in disbelief. "You really know a lot. You even understand quite a bit of modern knowledge, and you know about Holmes too. I'm starting to wonder whether you're really Hassan."

"You can doubt whether I'm religious, or whether my assassination skills are up to standard, but there's no question that I'm a Hassan. Besides, I read a few books during the flight."

At once, Assassin became even more unfathomable in Fiore's eyes. Assassin had already seemed strange—appearing and vanishing unpredictably, even gathering nearly all the Red Faction's intelligence single-handedly. And now, he had effortlessly deduced that the culprit was very likely the Red Faction's Assassin.

She even suspected that this Assassin who called himself Hassan was acting with a script in hand—he knew everything, yet revealed only a small part of it. Otherwise, how could he have predicted almost everything so accurately?

"Enough." Darnic clapped his hands and looked seriously at everyone. "The enemy is preparing to use a massive Aerial Fortress against us. Do you have any ideas for dealing with them?"

Rider lounged sideways in her chair and muttered, "How could we possibly know? We don't know anything about that Aerial Fortress, yet we're supposed to fight it—ow, ow, ow! Master, what are you doing?!"

Rider's Master held a whip and said in obvious displeasure, "Astolfo, one of the Twelve Paladins of Charlemagne cannot say such things."

"Facts are facts," Rider complained, covering the spot where she had been whipped.

This Master was awful. She hit her for no reason at all. How could there be such a strange person?

"Rider has a point." Lancer nodded. "I agree with her. Only with sufficient information can we fight a prepared battle."

"Assassin, we'll have to rely on you again."

Perhaps he had performed a little