Type-Moon, a human love simulator

Artoria swung her sword, using it to pry open human history. The brilliance of human principles suddenly appeared. Countless philosophers in the West, various scholars in the East, and all the thinkers in the world who yearned for saints, as well as those who were influenced by the ideas they taught and spread...

This endless power, symbolizing benevolence, was all bestowed upon the hands of the Holy Sword of Man at that moment.

The benevolent are invincible.

Tyranny and terror, dictatorship and control cannot suppress the desire for beauty and love deep in people's hearts.

Even Germany, which symbolizes the greatest evil and the strongest violence of mankind and once challenged half of the world on its own, cannot truly defeat justice.

Nero destroyed human history with his bestiality, so there must have been a righteous and kind person who stopped it.

Under the flash of human history, Nero wanted to use the Roman Empire to pry open human history, to shake human nature with the cornerstone of human nature, and to exert a force comparable to this blow.

But she couldn’t do it, because she was the Roman Empire, but not the real, pure Roman Empire. She was a beast, a beast that enjoyed the great disasters in human history. She had already fallen and become filthy.

When the end truly came, Nero stopped struggling. She looked at the extremely grand and brilliant light, the light of human kindness, the light of benevolence that could sweep away everything. A hint of crazy smile flashed across her emerald eyes. She laughed and said, "...I am immortal, Kelar. My entanglement with you will accompany human history into the infinitely distant future."

"Are you really dead? I don't believe your true self that shines so brightly..."

"Kelar, I'm waiting for you in the future!!!"

The body of Nero's Beast of Apocalypse was torn apart by the power of human history, but Nero did not die at all. She was still staring at Altria, or rather, staring at the Sword of Love and Forgiveness in Altria's hand.

We will meet again eventually.

Artoria is not having an easy time either. The concepts held by Kelar and Nero can both represent part of human history and can be used to leverage the power of human history as a whole.

This is equivalent to making human history contradictory. Artoria is also suffering from the backlash of human history, but she is protected by Kelar's will and can act freely under the crushing of human history.

The Roman Empire fell. The Roman Empire, which originated from the Seven Hills and created countless brilliant achievements of civilization and was the ancestor of Western civilization, fell.

Originally, after the fall of the Western Roman Empire, the Eastern Roman Empire still had a thousand years of existence, but under the will of Artoria to destroy it even at the cost of human history, it was eventually destroyed in the fifth century AD.

However, the hero who saved the world, the king who saved human history, was not happy about it. Instead, he was filled with despair.

“Kai…Kai…”

Altria's holy blue eyes were lifeless, her legs went limp, and she collapsed to the ground, tightly gripping the Holy Sword of Man in her hands, trying to feel the warmth of Kelar from the holy sword.

But the holy sword is, after all, just an object; it is not a living person. Even if it carries all the love and ideals of that saint, that Kelar, it is just a sword.

As if realizing this fact, Altria suddenly fell into deeper despair.

Kai is really dead and will never come back.

He would never again stroke her aho-hair with a smile, nor would he again roast a whole suckling pig and compete with her for the right to eat it.

From now on, she will be the king who saves the entire earth and owns the entire earth, but she will no longer have that smile that comes from the heart.

Artoria stared blankly at the place where Nero disappeared. The Roman Empire that killed him had been destroyed, and the apocalypse that forced Kelar to die with his sword had been torn into countless pieces, exiled to the infinitely long history of mankind...

She seemed to have no enemies anymore. She seemed to have become truly invincible. No enemy could compete with Altria anymore.

However, she did not feel the slightest joy of revenge, only endless emptiness and regret.

"No...Morgan, yes, there is still Morgan!"

A trace of hatred flashed in Altria's eyes, and she said: "Morgan, it's all your fault. You killed Kelar, you killed my whole world..."

Morgan, with eyes full of sadness and tears all over her face, walked out from beside Altria. She looked at Altria and said with the same hatred: "Altria Pendragon, you naive little girl, it is a disaster to let you be the king of Great Britain!"

"If it wasn't for you, the king, why would he sacrifice himself for Great Britain?"

Facing Altria's hateful gaze, Morgan also looked at his sister with hatred: "I said it before, didn't I? 'Since you have assumed the king's destiny, you must assume the corresponding responsibilities'!"

"If you fail, it will be a betrayal to me!"

"You don't have the talent and strength to bear the weight of the throne. I, Morgan, swear that I will be your enemy. Altria, how can you be worthy of being a king?"

Artoria could no longer hold back the suppressed emotions in her heart, she yelled: "It's you, why did you agree to Kelar's ridiculous request, why did you take him to the Star Inner Sea?"

Morgan was not at all outdone. She sneered back, "What a pathetic, pitiful, and childish little girl! Is this King Uther? Is this the king chosen by Kelar?"

"You have failed Kelar's expectations of you. It is because of you that Kelar would, would..."

Morgan couldn't help but lose her voice. Even now, even though the time of forging the sword had long passed, she still couldn't say those two words, those heart-wrenching words.

"It's you!"

"It's you!"

Two women who are the most powerful in Britain, one is the King of Britain, the other is one of the nine fairy queens of Avalon, but they are like little girls who have not grown up yet, standing there and blaming others for their own pain.

From this moment on, the two of them turned into a spiral of hatred. The confrontation and hatred between the two sisters will last for thousands of years, and will not change even after the erosion of human history.

If nothing unexpected happens, the two sisters might fight and kill each other until the end of human history?

The Knights of the Round Table standing not far away were in deathly silence. They witnessed Kelar's sacrifice and his righteous act of giving up everything to save the world.

In this battle to save the world, no one who should have sacrificed died.

But the person who should not have been sacrificed died before everyone else.

(End of this chapter)

Chapter 91: Talk about the Day After Tomorrow Saint, I will follow you until

"As a Celtic, I feel ashamed that I cannot protect my homeland."

"As a knight, I am ashamed that I once misunderstood that noble will."

"Although Kelar once taught us to cherish life, that saint who loved people the most has passed away. There is no one in this world who will teach me such truths."

Along with these words, Lancelot drew out his sword, the holy sword called "Indestructible Lake Light".

The sword was as bright as a mirror, clearly reflecting the knight's face full of melancholy and sorrow.

He squeezed his eyes shut, then opened them.

What was revealed in his eyes was an exceptionally firm and resolute will.

"The ancient Celtic blood flowing in my body tells me that I should wash away this shame with my own blood."

"What's even more tragic is that I am like an unteachable stone, and I can never practice the teachings of that saint."

"In that case - let my life end here."

These were the last words of the Knight of the Lake. After saying these words, he fell to the ground.

Lancelot is that kind of Celtic who is stuck in the middle, unable to go up or down.

He could neither completely obey Kelar's principles, inherit his words and deeds, love his own life, and be merciful and stop killing.

However, they cannot completely get rid of Kelar's influence on them, and have already realized Kelar's love.

It would be fine if he was more stubborn and a pure Celtic barbarian.

It would be good if he was more flexible, able to abandon himself and follow Kelar completely.

But that’s how it is, that’s how it is!

Lancelot has the Celtic warrior's usual emphasis on honor and indifference to life and death, but he also has the regret and guilt after realizing Kelar's love. He doesn't know what to do to wash away this maddening feeling, and can only choose the most ancient way to follow in the footsteps of the saint.

"Lancelot..."

Gawain looked at Lancelot, his expression changed instantly, and he subconsciously clenched his fists.

But after a few moments, his expression finally returned to calm.

He turned around and looked at the many knights behind him, his tone more like dead silence than calm.

"After I die, you are not allowed to follow the example of Lancelot and I. Someone must pass down the epic of Kelar on our behalf. The poem of salvation must be passed on, and the real truth must never be buried!"

"Brother Gao Wen..."

“Don’t try to persuade me!” Gawain pulled out the Wheel of Victory Sword. He threw this powerful holy sword, which he treasured like a treasure, on the ground: “What Sun Knight? I can’t do anything at all…”

"Besides, Lancelot has gone to follow Kelar. If I don't go, won't that annoying guy be left to follow the saint alone?"

"You know, I can't stand Lancelot..."

"Live well, someone must inherit Kelar's epic..."

Therefore, the two most prestigious and powerful knights in the Knights of the Round Table chose to follow the saint in their minds.

Among the remaining people, none of them had the stubbornness of Lancelot and Gawain, nor did they have the strength and status like them.

To tell you an absurd and ridiculous fact, even if they were to be buried alive with Kelar, they felt that they were not worthy of it and were not as qualified as Lancelot and Gawain.

The others were silent for a moment, but Agguiwen continued in his inhuman voice: "Brother Gawain is right. We have witnessed this epic war with our own eyes."

"The rest of us can no longer follow Lord Kelar. Someone must be responsible for passing on this battle to save the world. We must let everyone remember that there was once a saint who gave everything to save the world."

"He sacrificed himself for all mankind. We are his disciples. We must record this epic and pass it on to the future."

The eyes of the remaining knights of the Round Table seemed to be burning with bright fires. They found the meaning of life. As Agguiwen said, they were the only witnesses of this battle. They were the disciples of Kelar.

Merlin just stood there expressionlessly, watching everything that happened here quietly.

Her body was slightly hunched, and her eyes and face were hidden under the wide white hood. There was no emotion in her pink eyes.

She was standing not far away, or rather, she was standing with the Knights of the Round Table.

But the distance between the two sides is so close, yet so clear.

After all, distance in spatial orientation does not mean distance in stance.

If the remaining knights of the Round Table had not been filled with fanatical ideas about spreading the saint's teachings, some of them would have drawn their swords against her without caring about their own lives.

Because of her prophecies, the Knights of the Round Table had misunderstood Kelar at one point.

Now, these misunderstandings of the saints have become a stain that the Knights of the Round Table cannot erase.

The reason why Lancelot and Gawain committed suicide was because they felt too guilty.

Their past misunderstanding of Kelar led them to do the foolish act of standing on opposite sides between the king and Kelar to stir up conflict.

——Even if they seem to be on Kelar's side and holding the banner of support for him, it is an unforgivable humiliation and blasphemy to this noble saint in their hearts!

They had complained about this in the past, but it was not until now that they finally realized how stupid a thing they had done.

Too many complicated emotions intertwined, and a heavy psychological burden weighed on their hearts. Even for two outstanding knights, in such a situation, they had no choice but to cut the Gordian knot.

It was such a shame that they actually doubted Kelar's nobility!

"Am I excluded?"

Glancing at the undisguised disgust and rejection in the eyes of the Knights of the Round Table, Merlin tilted his head slightly, his eyes filled with a hint of doubt and...purity.

Just like a newborn fawn, as if it had just come into contact with this world, Merlin's eyes no longer had the usual calmness like dead water. Her emotions, which were almost indifferent, finally underwent a qualitative change under the catalysis of her fiery heart.

"Well, after all, this is a normal thing."

Merlin is a particularly unpleasant person.

And this is actually what she deserved, isn't it?

Merlin looked at the Knights of the Round Table, watching this group of humans grief-stricken over Kelar's death and regaining hope for Kelar's inheritance. She watched all this, with no expression on her plain and fair face.

Or rather, she shouldn't have any expression, right?

Even though she appears to be an alluring girl, after a brief exchange, one can clearly realize that hidden beneath that body is a monster beyond human imagination, an inhuman being.

She is a demon, she is not human.

She raised her hand and gently stroked her chest. Under the warm body temperature, as expected, it was...

"Ha, it really is, hollow..."

Yes, something called Merlin should be so empty.

Empty, indifferent, cruel, pathetic, without any human emotion, watching the dramas of human history from the perspective of a spectator, occasionally participating in them but never investing the slightest emotion.

Because, these are just the "drama" of fate!

I think I look down upon fate, and I laugh at the people of the world who are performing a farce like puppets under the threads of the three goddesses of fate...

Merlin is such a pathetic creature.

The whole history of mankind is based on the fate that she believes cannot be defied, so she is nothing more than a poor creature who thinks she has the script.

Merlin has always been like this.

But now...

This kind of emptiness, as if all the contents in the chest cavity have been emptied out, made my cheeks twitch slightly with discomfort...