Rider had suspected as soon as he had been able to come to the Plane that other Servants would follow. He had little in terms of magical sensitivity since he had none when he was alive, but as soon as Caster let down her shields, he felt the outpouring of energy. Rider went to the stadium expecting to see his Caster, but it was a cloaked woman. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully--it was certainly a Servant, and it could only be a Caster, but he did not know her.

But it mattered little. Rider did not sit to watch the spectacle. He had little interest in it. He had known of the matches and listened carefully for familiar names, but none had come up. He had no taste for bloodshed outside of war.

Now that he was here, though, it was his duty as King to confront the ones who oversaw these matches. He did not think they could be stopped (it was as pointless as trying to stop the Grail Wars), but he would at least talk.

So he approached the box and knocked.