The outright disobedience should boil the priest’s blood. The idea that a          creature, whose existence relies entirely on his own, would choose to          physically engage him in such a way is horrendous. He knows this, feels          the disgust rise up inside of him until it feels as if he may choke on it. Of          course there is a far greater chance that he will simply choke against          Lancer’s arm or become impaled on the spear, the weapon that should only          be used to fight for him and never against him. He takes pause, eyes shutting          as his body shifts minutely, subtle in such a way that the other would be          hard pressed to determine whether or not Kirei leaned closer or he himself          increased pressure.The result is the same, the dangerously sharp tip of the          lance slicing through his shirt and lodging in his chest.           Kirei exhales, the breath nearly as sharp as the blade but it doesn’t hurt           exactly. The sensation fuels the priest’s adrenaline, giving him cause to reach          out and grip Lancer’s neck firmly. His eyes open with fingers tightening          around the exposed column, he can feel the heartbeat rapidly increasing          against his palm. Disgust is present still, but Kirei feels a m u s e d now          more than anything else. Gradually his pressure increases, until the sadist          cannot help but smile, features distorted with delight until all traces of          pleasure leave him, eyes becoming cold and calculating in an instant.          He begins to speak with the spear still inside, blood trickling down his          torso under his shirt. The metallic scent strong in the air, a reminder of          the treason.     “ нow dare yoυ ʟancer. do yoυ нave any ιdea wнaт yoυ are?       wнaт yoυr pυrpoѕe ιѕ? ”          His voice is hoarse due to the pressure at his neck but as he continued          to lean forward he had given himself just enough space to slip from the other’s          grasp. In a quick motion he’s free of the spear and has positioned himself          behind the servant when he kicks at the back of his knees, forcing the other          to fall to them. Kirei’s hand immediately moves to his hair, gripping tight          before forcing his head back, The other hand produces a dagger that cuts          at the flesh of the other’s neck, a warning. A simple easily healed wound          for a servant but it’s there to send a message.      “ yoυ вelong тo мe. yoυ ʟιve and ғιgнт вecaυѕe ι allow ιт.       do noт тнιnĸ тнaт ι don’т нave тнe capaвιlιтy oғ deѕтroyιng       yoυ мyѕelғ. ιғ ι were even ĸιnd enoυgн тo end yoυ. ”          Blood continues to pour from his own wound even as the command seals          laced up his arm glow in warning.