Type-Moon: The Human Love Simulator [96]
Nero was the Beast of Revelation, a creature born to judge all humans across the world. As long as she remained in this world, humanity would face her ever-present threat, leading to a constant toll of death and destruction.
The last time Ritsuka and her group had passed through these lands, they had seen scattered villages and remnants of city life.
Now, these villages were ghost towns, the cities empty and hollowed out, reduced to ruins...
"Kaelar... I won't let down your expectations!" Ritsuka whispered, tightening her grip on the Holy Sword. I will become the savior you believed in!
"Mr. Tesla, help me send a declaration of war!" Ritsuka said firmly, looking at Tesla. "Tell that Beast we're here—and that we've come to defeat her!"
Tesla, who had been silent, had his own gaze filled with a simmering fury. Anyone would feel a pang of sorrow seeing such devastation wrought upon their own kind, but he knew he could not interfere in his Master's fated battle with the Beast of Revelation.
Aside from Artoria, only Fujimaru Ritsuka had been chosen by the Sword of Compassion and Grace, Kaelar's relic. Others would be powerless to wield it. Were it not for absolute necessity, Chaldea would never have agreed to let their Master face the complete Beast in combat.
With all his suppressed frustration and anger, Tesla channeled it into his thunderous power and unleashed his Noble Phantasm: "Man of the Myth, Lightning Descends!"
A thunderous bolt of divine lightning—comparable to a godly punishment from the father Zeus himself—erupted, a mighty challenge to the creature who ruled this land.
"A declaration of war... for me?" Nero's eyes widened with the feral excitement of a Beast who had sensed intruders on her territory.
"Outsiders of Chaldea," Nero sneered, "do you not understand that to challenge a god is the height of folly?"
Nero's scorn was short-lived, her mocking gaze falling upon the sword in Ritsuka's hands. Her face twisted into a smirk.
"That sword again?" she laughed. "And what do you hope to do with it? You think you can counter the full might of the Roman Empire?"
"You are not the barbarian king who wielded it last," she said. "You can't control its power any more than you can resist the divine strength of Rome…"
"But know this—I am Rome! Even if Kaelar were to rise again, I would never fall to him!"
With blazing determination, Ritsuka silently drew the Holy Sword, radiating the warmth of kindness and forgiveness. She nodded, placing herself protectively in front of her Servants.
With only one life to gamble, it was time for her Servants to help wear down the opponent while she waited for the right moment. Nothing wrong with a tactical retreat, after all.
"Then die!" Nero roared. "You stand in the way of Rome, and Rome will crush you beneath it!"
"Everyone, give it all you've got!" Ritsuka called out. "I'll support you with everything I have!"
Ritsuka closed her eyes, guiding the power of the Holy Sword, wrestling with its overwhelming presence.
She could feel Kaelar's brilliance, his radiant will to fight against an impossible enemy. How had he, a man with nothing left, fought against such a terrifying opponent? How had he found the strength to sacrifice everything to forge this Holy Sword of salvation?
But Nero gave no room for hesitation. Her first move was devastating, a direct attack that shattered Charlemagne's Noble Phantasm, slammed against Mash's shield, and sent Holmes reeling from the shockwave.
Tesla barely managed to duck behind Mash and Ritsuka, hastily pulling out magic wards to shield himself from the worst of it.
Then, Nero was preparing her second strike…
As a Beast of Revelation, with infinite power both in life and mana, the "Divine Radiance of the Roman Empire" was her simplest attack.
"Senpai, I... I can't hold this!" Mash gritted her teeth, but she knew that if the next strike landed, all three of them would be wiped out.
Nero laughed wildly. "Kaelar! Do you see this? I have surpassed you! I am going to surpass you!"
But Ritsuka's eyes flashed open, blazing with determination. Raising the Holy Sword to meet Rome's overwhelming radiance, she struck with a force that shook humanity itself.
The vast power Nero radiated was a culmination of the Roman Empire itself. Against any Heroic Spirit, even a Grand Servant, this attack would be lethal…
But it fell just short.
The sword that represented the height of humanity's goodness shattered the foul light of Rome's cursed radiance, binding it in place.
At the last moment, Ritsuka had managed to channel the Sword's power, delivering a blow brimming with Kaelar's absolute hatred for the Beast.
Ritsuka needed just one more strike to finish this—to rend the Beast as Artoria had, to earn her place in the world as humanity's savior.
But at that very moment, a frigid voice rang out from the heavens.
"Divine Retribution!"
It was Artoria Pendragon.
Or rather, it was not only her—Morgan le Fay stood at her side.
Faced with the lethal energy of the Lion King's holy attack, Ritsuka had no choice but to go on the defensive. She raised the Holy Sword above her head, shielding herself and her Servants in a radiant barrier of compassion.
Another blast, another fight for control over the Sacred Sword's overwhelming love that threatened to consume her mind.
Artoria, however, did not pursue further. Her intent was not necessarily to kill Ritsuka, but to create an opening for Morgan.
"Now, Sister!" Artoria raised the holy lance. "In the name of the King of Britain, I renounce my claim to the throne. To my sister, Morgan le Fay Pendragon!"
Morgan stepped forward, her voice firm. "From this moment, I am King of Britain!"
With a swift, graceful motion, the gathered Knights of the Round Table knelt on one knee. "We greet the King of Britain."
Artoria and Morgan had prepared this plan well, and there was no hesitation in their execution.
With Artoria willingly relinquishing her throne, Morgan—who held the true right to rule—gained complete authority over the island of Britain.
The sisters' desperate scheme had reached its final stage. Ritsuka held the Holy Sword before her, wary of Britain's forces and their Knights of the Round Table.
"King Arthur," she said coldly. "I'm here to defeat the Beast. What are you planning?"
Artoria, calm and poised, her beauty undeniable, replied evenly, "We have no quarrel, Chaldeans. We only ask that you wait—just a little while longer."
"I cannot bear to lose Kaelar a second time. The only reason I've loaned you this sword is because Kaelar himself requested it. I cannot deny his wishes."
"But stopping you from vanquishing the Beast," she said, her voice turning cold, "is entirely my own."
Artoria regarded them all icily. "Kaelar never said we couldn't hinder you… perhaps he even wished for this. If you cannot overcome our resistance, then Chaldea's journey ends here."
This, too, was part of the trial.
Ritsuka shook her head, sighing. "I knew it wouldn't be this easy…"
"But, Your Majesty," she continued, "if I don't slay the Beast, it will continue to wander this world endlessly. Wouldn't that make Kaelar's will meaningless?"
"No…" Artoria turned to Morgan, her gaze steely. "The rest is in your hands, Sister."
Meanwhile, Morgan was invoking the ancient essence of Britain itself. Drawing on it, she began an arcane ritual that even in the Age of the Gods was a rare miracle, a grand ritual to usurp the Beast Nero's power.
She intended to make herself a vessel to contain the Beast's essence, allowing both states of "Beast slain" and "Beast present" to exist simultaneously—thereby trapping Kaelar's remnant consciousness in a loophole.
Kaelar's residual spirit was bound to a condition: as long as a Beast still existed, he would not vanish.
But tragically, exploiting this loophole might preserve Kaelar's trace, but it would never earn the approval of humanity.
What's more, for this feat, Morgan would face endless torment, a constant trial of judgment and corruption, an agony more excruciating than a thousand deaths.
"You've lost your mind!" Nero cried. "You're just an ordinary 'vessel'—how could you withstand the Beast's power? Do you wish to die?"
"My power is infinite. There's no way you could possibly contain me!"
The Beast was a calamity meant to scourge humanity itself. Her magic rivaled the sum of human history; it was impossible to erode her. Only a critical strike, a blow against her very existence, could bring her down.
"Death? What fear do I have of death?" Morgan's face bore an expression of chilling fervor. "For Kaelar, I would do anything. As long as I can ultimately usurp your power, your very essence, then I can keep Kaelar here."
"For that goal, I would sacrifice everything!"
Looking at the unhinged intensity in Morgan's gaze, even someone as crazed as Nero felt shaken. She laughed aloud, giving up on resisting entirely, even going so far as to actively assist Morgan in seizing her power.
"Very well, then, Witch! Take all that is mine—all my strength, my will, my very essence—if you desire it so desperately!"
Nero cast her eyes skyward, as if locking gazes with some unseen presence, and laughed. "Kaelar, I am no mere puppet of your design! I'll be waiting at humanity's end…"
"I will not play out your script. More than the tale of a dragon slain by a valiant hero, I prefer the tragedy of a witch maddened by love, turning her fury against the world!"
"Morgan, I hope you don't disappoint me…"
Even a creature as ruthless as the Beastified Emperor of Rome couldn't help but marvel at the witch's unwavering resolve.
In the end, Nero was captured in Morgan's grasp and, in an instant, transmuted into power.
As Morgan finished absorbing Nero's power, the Lion King, Artoria, now wielding the Holy Lance, was already standing before Chaldea's group.
At this point, the truth was undeniable.
Britain had truly become an enemy to Chaldea, a formidable barrier in the way of preserving the continuity of human history.
With a heavy sigh, Ritsuka said, "King Arthur… Are you really prepared to do this? Are you willing to go so far as to defy Kaelar's wishes and stand against me?"
"You know I won't stop," she continued. "Even if Britain itself stands in my way, I'll never stop…"
Humanity's course cannot and will not stall for any single world.
From Orleans to the City of Seven Hills, from Okeanos to London, from North America to Camelot…
As the Master of Chaldea, Ritsuka Fujimaru had already undone six Singularities—six worlds apart from Proper Human History—just to protect humanity, to save the many.
She bore countless hopes upon her shoulders.
No, she couldn't match Kaelar's purity, couldn't bear the weight of thousands alone as he had.
But she had undoubtedly proven one thing: even if it meant trampling upon any world, even if it shattered someone's hopes, she would uphold the will of humankind.
And so, this Britain too would face the same inevitable fate. No matter what she experienced here, nothing could sway the resolve of Ritsuka Fujimaru.
A Singularity, after all, is something that must be rectified—destroyed—so that human history may continue.
Artoria gave no reply. She simply raised her lance once more and declared, "Rhongomyniad, Shining at the World's End!"
Ritsuka closed her eyes briefly, then reopened them with renewed resolve. "I understand, Your Majesty…"
"I carry humanity's weight. I carry Kaelar's expectations. I will not falter in this world…"
Meeting Artoria's unyielding gaze, Ritsuka declared, "If you stand in my way, I'll have no choice but to defeat you."
Morgan's ritual was nearing its conclusion. Ritsuka couldn't allow the Pendragon sisters to join forces. She had to defeat Artoria before Morgan could intervene, leaving her incapacitated.
Even if, as a last resort…
A flash of determination crossed Ritsuka's gaze. She murmured, "Tesla, get ready to use your Noble Phantasm. I'm counting on you to finish this."
Tesla nodded silently, his eyes filled with a steady resolve that instilled a sense of reassurance.
"You think you can defeat me with that sword of 'love'?" Artoria's voice was chilling. "How pitiful. I, too, am its wielder. Before me, that sword will never grant you its power."
"I know. I never intended to rely on it…"
Ritsuka slung the Sword of Compassion and Grace—Kaelar's very will—over her shoulder. She would not use it against Artoria; if Artoria took it from her, she'd lose her only means to complete the trial.
But Artoria would never give her the chance to wield the sword fully.
Even so, she didn't need it. She was Kaelar's chosen savior, with or without the sword.
She would rise above this world and complete Kaelar's trial.
No one would stand in her way.
And Ritsuka hadn't forgotten—her enemy wasn't Artoria alone. Her true target was the Beast that haunted this world.
So, she had to end this quickly—to bring down this corrupted Lion King.
"Then—"
"Sanctification!"
Artoria opened with her ultimate move. Sanctification was not a mere skill she could unleash casually. But in the face of Ritsuka, whom Kaelar had chosen, Artoria dared not show the slightest restraint. She aimed to crush her in one decisive blow.
It was an inescapable fate. Yet Ritsuka didn't falter. She raised her Command Seals, looking to Tesla and Mash.
"You're all I have left…" she said, her voice steady.
"So, please, help me."
"Master, I'll shield you with my life," Mash answered immediately.
"Master, trust me—I'm ready," Tesla replied.
This King of Britain, wielding the Holy Lance, was overwhelmingly powerful. Facing her was like facing the Lion King from a previous Singularity…
The only difference was that one lacked emotion, while the other was fueled by it.
Unfortunately, last time she'd had the aid of the Knights of the Round Table to defy the Lion King's oppressive rule. Now, she had only two Servants by her side.
"Even if it costs my life…"
Inwardly, Ritsuka had already steeled herself for a last stand.
But just then, a familiar, faint fragrance wafted in the air. In the haze, a pair of pink eyes appeared between Ritsuka and Artoria.
This was Merlin's most potent ability—The Farthest Shore.
No, she wasn't alone. She had others willing to help her.
The Farthest Shore: EX.
The final power of the world's last Incubus.
It was both an intrinsic ability and a fusion of "illusion" and "mystic eyes," capable of captivating the minds of those it touched, draining them of their strength.
It was an inescapable control skill, among the highest forms of enchantment.
Seizing the brief moment of reprieve, Tesla unleashed his EX-rank Noble Phantasm: Lightning Descends from Human Myth.
The blast of pure, god-like lightning struck Artoria head-on, giving Chaldea's group a glimpse of the true strength of Britain's Arthur.
This was an attack on the scale of Zeus's divine wrath, a city-shattering Noble Phantasm. But Tesla, with painstaking precision, directed it all at Artoria alone…
If it had struck any other Heroic Spirit, they would have been erased.
But Artoria only staggered, her face pale as residual arcs of lightning danced across her. With a body on par with the gods, she had withstood it.
In that moment, Ritsuka realized just how vast the power difference was between Heroic Spirits and their original, living selves.
Modern and contemporary Heroic Spirits, if anything, grew stronger upon becoming Servants. But the gods and heroes of ancient myth? Their powers were consistently diminished. A figure like Artoria, who could embody seven classes in the Holy Grail War, was never at her full potential in any one.
And now, Ritsuka was facing a godlike being in her original, prime state—a force that could bring even Chaldea's greatest champions to their knees.
Tesla's Noble Phantasm was mighty, but it came at a steep cost. And after this one blow, Artoria would not allow him another chance to strike. She opened her eyes and declared, "Protection of Britain!"
In an instant, all traces of lightning's ruin and numbing effect vanished from her. Gripping her holy lance, Artoria set her sights on Tesla and prepared to unleash her own ultimate attack.
Just then, Merlin, still gravely wounded, stepped forward.
"People of Chaldea, go now. Finish your mission. Accept Kaelar's gift!"
"As for this mad king," she added, her voice hardening, "leave her to me."
"Merlin—Merlin!!" Artoria's roar of rage tore through the air. "Do you truly wish to die? If my sister left you alive, I shall be the one to remedy that mistake!"
Pale as death, lips devoid of color, Merlin was clearly still recovering from her injuries. Unlike Artoria's unyielding body, Merlin couldn't simply shrug off Morgan's brutal ambush; she'd barely survived.
When combatants are this powerful, stealth and initiative make all the difference. Even someone as formidable as Artoria had been stunned by Merlin's spell for a single precious second, enough for her to bear the full brunt of an EX-level Noble Phantasm. Although Artoria wasn't fatally wounded, her power was noticeably diminished.
Merlin had fared worse, though. Caught off-guard by Morgan's sneak attack, she had nearly perished. Now, to stall Artoria, she would have to gamble everything.
With tears welling in her eyes, that pink gaze—once devoid of human sentiment—was now filled with sorrow and remorse.
"Artoria…my dear Artoria, I was never a fit teacher for you. Hate me if you must."
Merlin's voice trembled as she spoke. "But even now, I wish to teach you the things I failed to show you back then."
Yes, in the original Legend of King Arthur, the wise Merlin was Artoria Pendragon's first teacher, her closest confidant, and her guide.
But in this Britain, Merlin had been negligent. The things she had taught Artoria had slipped from her memory like whispers on the wind. And when Kaelar had risen to greatness, Artoria had rejected Merlin entirely, barring her from her dreams, shutting her out of her life.
Yes, Artoria had stripped Merlin of her title as her mentor. In her heart, only Kaelar could ever hold that place.
"Shut up, Merlin!" Artoria's voice shook with fury. "You despicable meddler! Betrayer! What right do you have to stand here before me and spew your shameless drivel?"
"My sister and I will bring Kaelar back forever to be with us…"
Merlin chuckled lightly, taking Artoria's accusations in stride. She didn't dispute Artoria's condemnations; she had earned each one. But as Artoria revealed her true intention, Merlin couldn't help but laugh and ask, "The one you're trying to bring back—do you truly think that's Kaelar?"
Thin ice.
Artoria's eyes flashed with bloodlust. She screamed, "Merlin! Traitor! Die! I'll kill you, kill you, kill you—I'll kill you, kill you, kill you!"
Merlin barely managed to lift her repaired sword, struggling to parry Artoria's onslaught. While Merlin was a master of swordsmanship, second to none in Britain, she was still no match for Artoria in raw strength.
With EX-level strength and A-Rank Instinct, Artoria's stats were monstrous. Right now, almost all of her parameters had reached EX. Her every attribute was on a different level. Within moments, Merlin's injuries were taking their toll, and she began to falter. If this continued, Artoria would undoubtedly slay her.
But Merlin was never a fighter by nature.
Even if her swordsmanship was unmatched in Britain, Merlin was, above all, a Caster—a Mage with Grand qualifications.
She was hiding a card, her true counter to Artoria, a secret weapon that could spell her end.
Artoria's movements grew slightly erratic. Her attacks, previously ruthless and relentless, now missed their marks from sheer force, overshooting as if recklessly desperate. Otherwise, she would have already seized Merlin.
As Artoria pressed her attack with lethal intent, Merlin met her gaze gently and said, "Forgive me, Artoria. It wasn't until the very end, far, far too late, that I realized…"
"You, Artoria, were always a student I should have cherished and protected."
Merlin had come to her realization too late.
Artoria gritted her teeth, saying nothing—she knew this wasn't Merlin's final word; there was surely more to come!
"But for now…"
Sure enough, after her apology, the look of guilt on Merlin's face vanished, replaced with steely determination.
"Let me share with you the most important truth I've ever realized."
"And that is—"
"To let someone shine with their own brilliance, radiant and unrestrained, is far better than binding them to your side by force."
"Whether as a comrade, a follower, or even… as his woman."
"Kaelar is gone, Artoria. Haven't you realized that yet?" Merlin's voice rose in gentle reproach. "What you're doing now—it's not what he wanted. It's not what he cherished…"
Then, Merlin's tone softened, almost wistful. "I… admired him. And for him, I am willing to give everything to see his will fulfilled!"
"Artoria, my student, I may have been a terrible teacher, but I will be the most devoted follower."
At this, there was a faint trace of sorrow in Merlin's eyes—a touch of helpless acceptance, yet with a lingering tenderness. And before Artoria could fully process Merlin's words, the old mage, fighting to keep herself standing, unleashed her final trump card.
It was a simple three-step spell, yet it was deadly.
The first step: Hybrid Blood, her EX-ranked skill.
A mixed bloodline with roots beyond humanity, Merlin's succubus heritage gave her power beyond human limits. Succubi, beings of demonic origin, had unparalleled vitality and strength.
Activating Hybrid Blood, Merlin's ghostly pallor vanished, her energy rebounding to vibrant life. Her rose-colored eyes gleamed with an ethereal beauty, an allure so absolute it transcended gender—a spell of Phantasmal Allure that instantly dulled her opponent's battle intent and focus.
The second step: Merlin conjured an A-ranked illusion, one so real it was nearly indistinguishable from reality, even for a Beast-class entity.
As Britain's greatest mage and a half-incubus, Merlin's physical strength could never match Artoria's. But in the realm of the mind and magic, Merlin had every chance of bringing her down.
Indeed, Artoria's confusion deepened as she struggled to discern reality from illusion. But she held her ground, lifting her holy lance high, magic power coiling around her as the sky itself seemed to split open.
"I don't need to know what's real or fake," Artoria spat. "I just need to turn it all into dust!"
"But you're already too late… Lily," Merlin murmured, her voice soft as the cold floral scent that drifted around Artoria.
"Here, my final move…"
End of Avalon's Illusion
This was Merlin's Noble Phantasm. When she had beheld Kaelar at the fabled Sword Forge in Avalon, bearing witness to him as he forged his sword, she had gained this ultimate spell.
As Merlin unleashed her Noble Phantasm, the Sword Forge of Avalon reappeared, blazing with a molten glow that could melt the planet itself.
Her illusion layered the scene into infinite facets, obscuring what was real and what was not. Even Artoria, in her relentless fury, could not avoid it entirely. But she did not go down alone—her counterattack was a tremendous blast of pure destruction.
Artoria's plan had been to force Merlin into retreat, buying herself a single moment of survival.
But Merlin did not dodge. If the illusions had been peeled away, one would see her embracing Artoria from behind, holding her close as they sank together into the blazing pool of molten creation.
The illusion spared Artoria from physical pain, yet her A-ranked Instinct, screaming at her of her impending death, left no doubt.
Artoria understood in that moment—this was the end.
Merlin, that maddening succubus, truly was Britain's greatest mage. When she decided to strike, not even Artoria could evade her wrath.
"Merlin, Merlin! I hate you!" Artoria's voice cracked with raw anguish. "You destroyed my dreams, you took everything from me—why can't you just die?!"
She was beyond struggling. Though it was a painless death—Merlin's last act of kindness as her former teacher—Artoria's heart burned with hatred.
"I know, I know, Artoria," Merlin whispered, her voice laced with tenderness. "I'll stay with you… and perhaps, in a distant future, we'll meet again among the stars, my dear Lily."
In that final moment, Artoria's composure returned, her regal poise and cold disdain. "Merlin, I will never forgive you. And I will never accept your apology!"
"When I return to reality, I'll kill you myself."
Merlin smiled in understanding, nodding. Of course—that was only natural. But before she disappeared, she cast one last glance toward Ritsuka Fujimaru, who was still locked in battle with Morgan. Merlin sent one last blessing to that brave child, fighting on behalf of humanity.
"Ritsuka, you don't need to worry about Artoria anymore. I've taken care of that obstacle for you…"
Her gentle voice echoed in Ritsuka's mind. "Oh, resilient, beautiful child… Keep fighting. The way you stand for humanity—how could I not admire it? How I wish I were the one in whom he placed all his hopes…"
"Go forth to victory, Ritsuka. Claim Kaelar's full legacy. Don't disappoint him! He and I—we both believe in you."
"Grow, and become a savior worthy of the weight of all humanity!"
Merlin's cloaked form dissolved into soft, glittering light, her floral fragrance lingering faintly in the air.
Ritsuka's heart clenched with grief.
"Merlin…" she whispered, lost in thought, her voice choked. After a long silence, she said, "I promise. I will not let you down."
Though their time together had been short, Ritsuka had come to treasure the Flower Mage of Britain as a trusted friend, perhaps even a kindred soul.
Some bonds form in an instant, deeper than decades of familiarity, while others never go beyond acquaintance even after a lifetime. Perhaps Merlin had seen something of Kaelar in her…
After all, Kaelar had embodied all that was kind, good, and compassionate in humankind. He was the very essence of humanity's goodwill.
"My sister… I won't let your sacrifice be in vain!"
"From here on, I'll do whatever it takes to finish what we started!"
Morgan looked coldly over the war-torn battlefield, her sorrow over Artoria's passing all but erased by the flood of dark, scathing magic surging within her.
With Artoria gone, the stakes of their shared plan fell solely upon her shoulders. Her face held the same beauty, but now it radiated a terrifying inhuman intensity.
The ritual was complete. Her plan lacked only one final step.
To annihilate Chaldea.
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