"So, this should be Roppongi, right? Everything suddenly started fighting just now, so I didn't get a good look."
Ignoring the small-time punks fleeing in tears, Fujimaru Ritsuka looked around the street.
"So perhaps I should call myself the Archer of Roppongi?"
Archer muttered to himself.
"What? Wouldn't that make you sound even more like a host?"
Rolling his eyes, Fujimaru Ritsuka clearly found the title rather distasteful.
Lawrence stood behind Fujimaru Ritsuka and Archer, a trace of confusion and unease in his eyes as he withdrew his magecraft workshop.
Was that coffin-like thing his weapon?
A middle-aged gentleman, Caucasian features, a coffin weapon, and an Archer-class Servant... Was he some kind of writer or artist?
But if that were the case, why wasn't he a Caster?
Lawrence contemplated in silence.
His store of knowledge was undoubtedly terrifying. As one of the split-off entities of the Thread of the Root, he possessed knowledge spanning several eras. On top of that, Lawrence had memorized most of Chaldea's records. As such... Lawrence could identify the defining traits of the vast majority of Servants.
But the man before him had no information.
Lawrence could not determine Archer's identity.
It could even be said that whether he considered him an Archer or tried to think of him as a Caster, something felt off. He did not match any Servant.
And if he truly was an artistic Caster, why had he been summoned in the form of an old man?
It was impossible to understand, impossible to identify.
Leonardo was probably facing the same problem. If Lawrence could not figure it out, Leonardo would likely find it troublesome as well.
It would be better to observe a little longer.
"Assassin, Rider, Archer, it seems the barrier has been touched. Although I adjusted the barrier's position