Chapter 353: Poison

Sighișoara, the closest small city to the Yggdmillennia clan's territory, is situated right on the border of the Yggdmillennia domain. It's a place where the Black Faction Masters and Servants cannot sense any presence, making it an ideal base for the Red Faction. Trifas, the enemy's territory, is too perilous, and Romania's capital, Bucharest, is too far away.

Sighișoara was established in the 12th century by the Saxons. It retains the original appearance of a medieval fortified town and represents a perfect blend of Latin-Oriental culture from Central Europe and Byzantine-Orthodox culture from Southeastern Europe. Hence, it is celebrated as a historic city and one of Romania's top tourist destinations.

Here, you can see a 920-meter-long city wall and 14 towers built upon it. Of course, the most iconic feature of the city, guarded by the walls and towers, is the Sighișoara Fortress.

Apart from these military structures, there are many cultural and religious landmarks, such as the Monastery Church from the 15th-16th centuries, the Orthodox Church from the 18th century, and the oldest of them all, the Church on the Hill.

The Church on the Hill, as its name suggests, is built on a hillside. Constructed in the 14th-15th centuries, it is connected by a covered staircase. This staircase reportedly has 127 steps, making it a historic site as famous as the church itself.

At the top of the staircase stands a rocket-shaped church. Though called a rocket, it's essentially a church with a spire. The church itself isn't very large; the spire with the bell tower and the nave for prayers occupy more than half of its area.

At the top of the bell tower stood a man and a woman.

The man appeared very young, no older than twenty. His white hair, while not meticulously groomed, was still smooth. His skin, somewhere between dark and brown, had a healthy glow like sunlit wheat. Dressed in a black clerical robe, he matched the church beneath him, evoking a sense of familiarity.

The woman looked a few years older than the man, with pointed ears reminiscent of legendary elves (not the elves from the Age of Elves). Her elegant yet slightly alluring face could drive men mad. Her heavy yet gorgeous dress exuded an indescribable decadent charm.

The man gazed down the hill, his voice smooth and warm: "Oh my, oh my, it seems we've been detected."

"That's not my fault," the woman said, turning her head slightly. Her complaint, tinged with a hint of awkwardness, made her even more enchanting.

"But if it's you, you should be able to see through that Saber's true name, right?"

To the woman's surprise, the man shook his head: "Not this time. That Saber has a Noble Phantasm that conceals information. I can see the basic attributes, but everything else is—"

"I believe it's best to eliminate uncertainties as soon as possible. While there's still time, shouldn't we send someone to catch up?"

A white dove flapped its wings and landed on the woman's arm. She tilted her pointed ear, her long black hair cascading like a waterfall, stirring a hint of sweet fragrance.

But the killing intent within that fragrance was flatly rejected by the man: "No, no, let's not. After all, we're allies; it's too early to fight."

"Allies? Really?"

"They are also seekers of the Holy Grail. In that sense, our interests align, so they are allies—at least until we defeat the Black Faction's Servants. Besides, I know that Saber's identity."

"Really? But didn't you just say his true name is hidden and you couldn't see through it?" The woman narrowed her eyes.

"Not seeing through doesn't mean I can't find out by other means." The man's smile had a different meaning than sunshine.

"Acting mysterious," the woman glared at the man. Even in anger, she was breathtakingly beautiful.

The man propped his chin with his hand, looking puzzled: "Aren't women fond of mysteries? I remember there's a saying, 'A secret makes a woman woman.'"

"I don't deny it, but a man's act of mystery is a sign of lack of sophistication," the woman retorted sharply.

"Is that so?"

"Yes."

"Alright, since you insist, I'll tell you Saber's true name. She is Mordred, one of the Knights of the Round Table, the rebellious knight who brought an end to King Arthur's legend."

The man's pronoun choice caught the woman's attention. "She? Mordred is a woman?"

"Yes. To conceal this fact and prevent King Arthur from discovering Mordred's true identity, her mother, Morgan, gave her a helmet and instructed her 'never to take it off.' This legend was sublimated into a Noble Phantasm that shields her critical information."

"Oh? You seem well-informed. Did you also follow that King Arthur? With your mysterious demeanor, could you be Merlin?"

"Where is your imagination running? I am undoubtedly human, not a nightmare demon." The man scratched his head in slight frustration. "I've already told you my name; why don't you believe me? You, the great Semiramis, can't discern if I'm lying?"

"Because you're always acting so mysterious." The woman, called Semiramis, snorted lightly.

"Compared to the Empress of Assyria, I am naturally insignificant," the man replied nonchalantly. This seemingly humble yet inherently arrogant attitude angered Semiramis.

Flinging her hand dismissively, she retorted, "Flattery without sincerity," and turned to leave.

Seeing this, the man quickly clasped his hands. "Empress, please calm down. Don't you want to know why we were detected?"

"It surely isn't my fault," Semiramis responded, her anger still simmering.

"No, quite the opposite." The man waved his hand dismissively.

"Are you mocking me?"

"How could I? I am as 'honest and reliable as a young man.'"

"One more word, and I'll rip out your tongue!" Semiramis's face darkened, making the air in the bell tower heavy.

"..."

"Why aren't you speaking? I'm waiting for your explanation."

The man opened his mouth and pointed to his tongue.

Semiramis chuckled in exasperation. "I told you not to prattle, not to stay silent."

"Oh, I see, you gave me a scare." The man patted his chest, feigning relief.

"Speak."

"As you command, Your Majesty. The reason they are wary of us is that Mordred sensed the same aura from you that she did from her mother."

"Morgan? King Arthur's sister?"

"Exactly." The man nodded. "The hidden viper, the mastermind who conspired to overthrow King Arthur's dynasty through her rebellious child. In a sense, she is your counterpart."

"Viper... viper... is that how you see me too, my Master?" Semiramis's face blossomed with an unprecedentedly sweet smile. Along with this sweet smile came a fragrance that seemed to brighten the entire world.

"Whether or not you're a viper, when it comes to poison, she can't hold a candle to you." The man also smiled a bright and sunny smile.

"Thank you for the compliment." Semiramis's smile did not waver as she waved her hand, releasing a heady fragrance that could intoxicate.

Then, the man rolled his eyes, clutching his chest, his body convulsing.

Semiramis looked down at the man slowly collapsing, her gaze icy. "Then taste my poison well—Sikera Ušum, (Arrogant King's Alcohol)!"