Leo I
Leo stood firm as the undead creatures approached him. The head of the pack struck first, raising his sword above his head and swinging downward. The priest stepped to the side the moment the blade came down and grabbed the monster by the head. Meanwhile, two of the creatures sped up, attempting to get him while he was attacking the one in front. In response, Leo finish ed his movement by ripping the first soldier's head off and with a whip like kick, sending the creature into the others.
Then, after a quick windup, he threw the skull into the center of the crowd. The head hit the undead in the center, causing its body to shatter into pieces with explosive force. The pieces flew in every direction, striking the skeletons the remaining skeleton like bullets. Those near the center of the formation were filled with holes, causing them to collapse. Only two creatures remained.
Leo began walking forward, his eyes focused only on one of the creatures: the guardian. "Cease this farce and face me," He announced to the creature. His voice slowly rose in volume. "I do not care much for killing the weak."
LonginusAbove the devastation and spreading darkness, a tattered shroud billowed like a candle in the dark. Its owner's harsh gaze surveyed the fields of chaos.
The soldier in red had no name, for he had abandoned it to be known only by his actions. He had no home, for he had forsaken the empire he had sworn to serve and nowhere he could bear to turn his face in friendship. He had received forgiveness, but he could not ever return his gratitude. He had no purpose, and so he wandered disconsolate but not lost until the end of his days.
His presence here was accident, and his coincidental accomplishments would not earn him what he desired most. But if he turned away from this strife, then shame would be reflected in his eyes and no repenting would make up for his failure of virtue.
Although he thought that, it almost seemed like a waste to get so worked up when the two that he could see from here looked capable enough to deal with the threats squirming on the ground. One of them, at least. But they were too soft.
Servant Lancer stepped back on the plain roof, winding up for a certain leap into danger, and with a deep breath he snapped forward like an arrow. In a second, his physical form covered dozens of meters and dissolved into the wind, carried towards the surviving foes by superhuman momentum. As he neared striking range, he assumed flesh and blood once more, landing behind the large surviving abominations with a restrained stomp and an old spear now in hand.
Revealed by unfailing eyes, the stained tip of his weapon was shot at the weakest point of the undead's armor, boring straight through it. The great body of the abomination shook at the impact, and as if it had suddenly remembered its age and unnatural being, and crumbled at once. Only dust was left.
He swung the gleaming edge of the speartip in the direction of the remaining enemy and turned his head to glimpse the other two Servants. Ordinarily, he should not have helped them, but their nature was irrelevant. It was evident to any that this was no more any Grail War as it ought to be and something foul infested the air.
"You are dignified, but your kindness is wasted on these husks. All there is left to do is return them to the earth." He said, gaze drawn to the man who bore a seeming of holiness upon his brow and expression.