A Lovers Quarrel

As Giorno crossed his arms, a shadow fell over his face, casting it into a deeper shade. He felt a knot form in his stomach as Rider proposed his plan, a plan that echoed with the memory of his past. He couldn't help but shake his head slowly, his lips pursing into a thin line.

"I'm sorry," he began, his voice low and even. "I don't think I can agree to it either. I served a 'King' once, and I don't plan to ever be in that position again." As Giorno spoke, he struck his signature pose, his hand curling into a fist and then extending outwards, as if he was unleashing a powerful force. The other servants around him seemed taken aback by his sudden movement, but their expressions betrayed their surprise.

But it was something Iskandar had said earlier that bothered him, and as he spoke, Giorno couldn't help but let the words sink in, weighing heavily on his mind. "Rider, I'm afraid you've also got it wrong," he said, his eyes locking onto Iskandar. "I am not the 'Caster' of this war."

At this, Waver, who had been sitting quietly in the chariot, suddenly spoke up, his voice filled with disbelief. "D-Don't be ridiculous!" he exclaimed, before clasping his hand over his mouth, as if he had said too much. He then retreated into the chariot, as if he wanted to distance himself from the conversation.

As Iskandar turned to Giorno, a sly smile crept across his face, his eyes scanning the young man's features. "Do you claim to be in the Archer class then?" he asked, his voice filled with curiosity. "An Archer who fights with summoned plants and his fists? Interesting! I look forward to the day we're locked into a glorious battle, but are you sure you won't join me?"

Giorno's hair fluttered in the wind, the strands whipping around his face in a wild frenzy. Despite the gusts, his posture remained unflinching, his gaze steady on Iskandar. "Quite sure," Giorno replied calmly. "I wouldn't be the 'Boss' if I bowed to anyone, so I'll have to refuse."

As he spoke, the air around him seemed to hum with otherworldly energy. Even those who weren't familiar with his powers could sense the raw power emanating from him. "My name is Giorno Giovanna, the Boss of Passione," he continued, his voice low and steady. "Knowing my name will be no help in defeating me, so I have no problem telling you this much."

Iskandar couldn't help but be impressed by the young man's confidence. His actions were similar to his, but there was a subtle difference in their words. Iskandar had revealed himself in an attempt to use his fame to sway the others, but Giorno's declaration was one of pure confidence. He knew his name carried no weight in this world, but he didn't need it to win.

Iskandar took a step forward, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "Ah, this is what I love about the Holy Grail War! The thrill of facing new opponents and testing our skills against them! Come, Giorno Giovanna, let us battle and see who truly deserves to claim the Grail!"

Saber, on the other hand, remained silent, her expression stoic and unreadable. She had learned to be cautious in this war, to not reveal her true intentions to anyone, especially not to her enemies. She observed the others, analyzing their every move and calculating her next steps.

Giorno Giovanna narrowed his eyes, "I have no interest in pointless battles, but if you insist, I will not hesitate to defend myself."

Diarmuid scoffed at Giorno's words. "Typical of someone who lacks confidence in their abilities. But don't worry, I'll show you just how weak you are."

The tension on the docks continued to build, each Servant ready to strike at a moment's notice. The sound of crashing waves against the shore and the distant cries of seagulls were the only sounds that filled the air.

As Giorno's body tensed up, his mind registered the feeling of danger. The air around him grew thick with immense bloodlust. He turned his gaze to the source of the feeling and saw a knight clad in armor, shrouded in an unnatural aura that looked like black flames. Even without seeing his form, Giorno knew what the servant was - a Berserker, driven by hatred and instinct.

"Looks like we have an uninvited guest," Giorno said, his fists clenched. He knew that a Servant class that relied solely on raw power had no chance against his speed. This wouldn't even be considered a fight. But before Giorno could even take a step towards the mad knight, he was sent flying.

As he crashed into a nearby shipping crate, Giorno struggled to make sense of what had just happened. The Berserker shouldn't have been able to match his speed. His mind raced with the possibilities. Was he caught off guard? Did he underestimate his opponent? Or was there something more to this Berserker that he didn't know?

As the group surveyed the battle, Iskandar listened as Diarmuid spoke up with a biting tone. "Seems like you've got yourself a new potential recruit, King of Conquerors," he remarked, his voice laced with sarcasm that was almost as sharp as the spears he wielded.

Iskandar's disappointment was evident as he responded, "This one doesn't seem like he'd take well to negotiations, damn, and I was doing so well with the other too!" He gestured towards the scattered remains of his previous prospect, his face creased with displeasure. "So Assassin was just a fluke, huh? How disheartening, I thought he would make a fine general in my army!"

Saber had been silent up until this point, her focus entirely on her surroundings. However, she couldn't help but interject, "I wouldn't be so sure, Iskandar." Her voice was calm but firm as she spoke, and she maintained her guard. "Giorno's presence hasn't vanished yet."

As the dust settled, Giorno's figure emerged from the debris, standing proudly on top of the crumbled metal crate. His body appeared unscathed, save for a few minor scratches. The golden energy enveloping his arms shone brilliantly in the sun, emanating warmth and power.

Giorno plunged his hand into the side of another crate, causing it to burst apart in a shower of splinters. The onlookers, both servants and masters, watched in awe as the shattered remains of the crate transformed into a massive elephant, charging toward Berserker with thunderous force.

Iskandar's eyes widened in amazement as he witnessed Giorno's incredible ability. "Not just plants, but animals too? This power would be a perfect addition to my army!" he exclaimed with a deep chuckle. "Together, we could conquer anything!"

The earth trembled beneath the massive feet of the charging elephant, its trunk raised high in defiance as it charged toward its target. The young Servant stood tall, his eyes locked onto his opponent as he commanded the beast with ease. The elephant's powerful strides were matched by the Servant's swift movements, and Berserker's attempts at a counterattack were in vain.

But then, with a sudden burst of power, Berserker's arms shot out and grabbed hold of the elephant's left tusk. The sound of a cracking bone filled the air as he swung the beast around and hurled it into the churning sea behind him. The tusk, torn from the elephant's body, was now firmly in the grip of the mad Servant.

Blood spurted from within Berserker's helmet, but he seemed unfazed by the damage. Giorno watched in amazement as the Servant approached, his determination intensifying with each step. This was no mindless brawler, but a skilled fighter wielding the blackened tusk like a massive club.