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Type-Moon: The Human Love Simulator

【You were born, in the house of a knight.】 【You watched a fire that burned for seven days and seven nights, and for the first time, a question arose in your heart—you felt that something was wrong.】 【You said, "Know that 'My doctrine lies here'."】 【In the end, you bore the love of all, and you became the sole saint of Britain.】 --- 【You were born, in the house of a carpenter.】 【You seemed... a little different.】 【They began to call you a saint.】 【But you said: Dove, I return your dominion to you, severing the distinction between gods and men.】 --- 【You were born, in the house of a devout believer.】 【You grew to despise the pagans, yet could not escape having to endure their presence.】 【Your country was defeated in war.】 【You swore, you would protect everyone!】 --- Updates: Mon-Sat To Unlock Bonus Chapters: Reach 30,40,50,100,200 Power Stones! 5 Extra Chapters! Resets Weekly! [Monday] --- Disclaimer: All rights to the original content belong to their respective creators. Original Name: 型月,人类爱模拟器 Author: 一只咪咕 --- Advanced Chapters! [patreon.com/WiseTL]

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161 Chs

Type-Moon: The Human Love Simulator [123] [100 PS]

Bonus Chapter!

---

"Artemis, have you not caused enough trouble already?!"

Apollo stood fuming before Artemis, chastising her. "Why did you have to go after Idmon?"

"It was a test, just a test!" Artemis retorted, unfazed. "If you can test my children, why shouldn't I test yours?"

It was retaliation—an eye for an eye.

Apollo knew his sister could be petty, but even he hadn't expected her to retaliate like this, despite his slight against her.

A "test"—she'd sent a wild boar to gore Idmon, Apollo's son, to death.

This kind of twisted logic left Apollo exasperated, though, truthfully, he had many sons. It wasn't as if Orpheus, his favorite, had been killed. Idmon was but one son. Besides, there was no harm in visiting the Underworld. Mortals were all fated to end up there eventually.

In his cool, calculated way, Apollo moved on. Idmon's death was nothing of consequence.

"And why did you refuse Suren's offering?" Artemis demanded. "Don't you realize how much it will hurt him?"

Instead of reflecting on her own excessive behavior, Artemis boldly pointed out how Apollo's actions had wounded her beloved Suren's heart.

"I'm doing this for his sake—and yours."

Apollo clenched his fists. "Artemis, think for a moment. The Clashing Rocks... The gods have almost reached a consensus there. Even Athena, Hera, and Hestia have agreed to the trial."

"Are you really going to defy the gods' will?"

"I don't care!" Artemis cried. "For Suren, I'd defy the whole world!"

Ignoring his sister's lovestruck irrationality, Apollo continued, "I couldn't reveal the gods' plan to Suren directly. Otherwise, he'd resent both you and me. I can only distance myself from him and let Jason be the one to act."

"That way, Suren will never know of your involvement."

Apollo, with his mechanistic mind, didn't fully understand Suren's complex humanity. But at least, now that he was incarnate, he could adopt subtler methods when needed.

Understanding dawned in Artemis's eyes. She brightened, and with a determined nod, she clenched her small fists. "I get it now. So Suren will only resent you, not me, right?"

"…"

Apollo could hardly believe it. How could his sister—a goddess with the mind of a child in love—be so oblivious? He rolled his eyes, saying with exaggerated patience, "Yes, exactly. So please stop meddling; I'm doing this for your own good, Artemis."

For all his attempts to play the wise, long-suffering sibling, Apollo found little joy in being the younger brother who had to reign in his sister's outbursts.

Having appeased Artemis, Apollo turned his gaze back toward Suren.

"Suren, the help I can offer you ends here."

"Let's see how far you can carry your resolve against the gods. How far can you go, you who dared to draw your bow against divinity?"

"Are you ready to shoulder the weight of a god's love and blessing?"

---

Elsewhere, Poseidon returned from his day of supporting his "idol" favorites, the Gorgon sisters, sparing them, at least for now.

As Greece's resident "idol fan," Poseidon had a particular fondness for the Gorgon sisters, who possessed the rare power of "idolatry," showering them with protection.

He rubbed his temples, setting his trident aside, and sighed. "Suren… honestly, this kid can't seem to sit still."

"Once again, an Argonaut has slain one of my sons. As god of the seas, I'd say my anger is warranted."

Despite his words, Poseidon's "anger" had a hollow ring to it. His expression of outrage, though textbook-perfect, looked too mechanical, too forced, like the lifeless face of an actor on a painted backdrop.

"Logical analysis verified… Fine, since no one else is willing to take the lead, it falls to me, Poseidon, to be the villain!"

Poseidon's ocean-blue eyes stretched across leagues of sea to the distant Argo, focusing on Suren.

"Suren, you must know that the trials aboard the Argo are but whispers compared to the storm that awaits you."

"If you haven't yet become a towering tree capable of sheltering others, a tender sprout cannot hope to stand against nature's gales. Better to let your fantasy wither here so you can thrive under the shade of a great tree."

"Sometimes, Suren, the wisest choice is simply to let go."

Raising his trident, Poseidon stirred the tranquil ocean to a fierce upheaval.

After all, this was the Age of Gods.

---

"Beautiful, brave child—my Suren."

In Hera's temple, Athena, Hestia, and Hera all gazed down upon the serene, resolute figure of Suren. Athena was the first to speak, her eyes bright with admiration. "It seems even the gods are captivated by Suren's dream. Each has begun to choose sides."

"Not since the White Titan has something united the gods in their desire to see a singular outcome."

For her part, Athena, the Mother of Heroes, along with Hera and Hestia, had wholeheartedly backed Suren, determined to support his dreams, even his boldest ambitions.

It didn't matter if his dreams seemed foolish, unrealistic, or impossible—the three goddesses offered unwavering support.

To Suren, the gods appeared in different forms, each offering unique gifts to further his cause.

Unlike human rulers, who reflexively crushed any threat to their authority, the gods were more willing to entertain new ideas.

Still, not every god was willing to support Suren. Though their love for humanity was universal, each god expressed that love differently.

For the All-Father Zeus, who viewed mortals as children needing protection, Suren's plans required an entirely different kind of scrutiny.

To earn Zeus's approval, Suren would need to demonstrate undeniable wisdom and self-reliance—qualities fit for one destined to lead.

Apollo and Poseidon shared similar reservations. Though they acknowledged Suren as an ideal hero—a shining, flawless figure worthy of myth and song—Poseidon doubted the feasibility of Suren's vision.

If Suren lacked the strength to achieve his dreams, Poseidon believed, better to let him abandon them early.

If he let go of his ambitions, his charm and the gods' favor would ensure a long, fulfilling life in the Age of Gods.

This, too, was the gods' love.

Hestia voiced her worry. "Won't these gods' harsh trials just make Suren furious?"

But Hera was more pragmatic. "This is part of the journey. Earning the gods' trust is never easy."

Hera understood the gods' reasoning. If Suren could be swayed into bitterness by their trials, then he would likely diverge from their intentions later.

"Still, why are Zeus, Poseidon, and Apollo pushing him so hard? Won't this just enrage him?"

Hestia rested her chin in her hand, confused. "I thought at most they'd want him to write a proposal or come up with a fun little game."

"...Aunt Hestia, have you been secluded for so long that you've forgotten how gods operate?" Athena sighed. "That's only for equals. To mortals, we're fierce and unyielding."

"Only once the gods truly embrace Suren can we indulge in the sort of playful antics you're envisioning."

For the first time, the gods were learning how to be gods. No one had taught them divine etiquette; they simply maintained respectful distance with each other out of basic civility.

But toward humans, the gods had become spoiled by the awe and reverence lavished upon them.

When dealing with humans and other gods, a deity wore two entirely different faces.

Athena's eyes sparkled with wisdom. She concluded, "In this trial aboard the Argo, none of us may intervene on Suren's behalf, nor may he seek our aid."

"If Suren cannot overcome the Argonauts' trials, what right has he, beloved of us three goddesses, to bring his grand vision of harmony between gods and men before the Olympians?"

"Even if it is a fleeting, impossible dream, to achieve it he must possess the unbreakable will to overcome every hardship."

---

"You said what, Jason?"

Jason's words upon waking sent shockwaves through the Argonauts.

His eyes vacant, he repeated, "Atalanta killed a descendant of Poseidon, and Pollux slew one of Poseidon's sons. Poseidon is enraged…"

"And Idmon's death has already provoked Apollo's wrath. Yet, last night, I managed to secure Apollo's prophecy—the only way to pass through the Clashing Rocks."

"Are you certain it's the only way?"

Suren's expression grew severe. Though anchored near the coast, the Argonauts could feel the ocean's wild fury—violent winds, looming waves, and an impending tsunami lay just beyond them.

"To appease Poseidon," Jason continued, staring blankly at Suren, "we must sacrifice every person on the island of Propontis, who were once enemies of Amikos. By offering them to Poseidon, he will use the island of Propontis to wedge open the Clashing Rocks, allowing the Argo to pass through."

"Otherwise," he went on, "not even the fastest ravens can fly across. Even if every one of us rowed with all our might, we'd be crushed to pieces between those rocks."

"But—"

Jason gave a bitter smile. "I know it's impossible. Suren, you'd never agree to it, would you?"

A man of worldly wisdom, Jason had known from the start that, in Suren's eyes, there was no difference between a hero and an ordinary person. To Suren, all were equals, all were equally deserving of life.

To trade the lives of an entire island's people just to move forward? Jason could be certain Suren would refuse, even if it meant the Argo would go no further. Suren would reject it steadfastly. No compromise, no hesitation, no retreat, and certainly no surrender.

Wrong was wrong. The good end could never justify a heinous means. If you achieved success through immoral actions, that only tainted you, no matter the outcome.

Suren was still uncertain whether he'd reach his grand goal, but he would fiercely guard his ideals.

That was who Suren was—a hero unlike any other, a true hero.

Without the gods' approval, the Argo would remain stranded, stalled before the Clashing Rocks at the mouth of the Bosporus. This journey, already teetering on the edge of disaster, would be doomed. No hero would back Jason's desperate plea.

Yet—

To Jason, this journey had become everything. More than his life, more than the throne, more than any honor…

To him, nothing mattered more than the Argonauts' quest for the Golden Fleece. He would sacrifice anything, even his own life, to see the Argo press on.

Jason's face was streaked with despair, though he couldn't help casting a look, full of pleading, toward Suren.

"Suren…"

"Don't even think about it, Jason."

Suren's refusal was firm. "I will never sacrifice others' lives to please the gods for the sake of the Argo's journey. If I did, I wouldn't be Suren."

"But the Argo…"

A hero hesitated.

"The Argo must press forward!" Jason muttered through gritted teeth. "No, the Argo will press forward!"

It was a non-negotiable decision, something Jason would not yield on. Yet, despite his firm words, his eyes still shone with despair.

Without appeasing the gods, this trial was doomed from the start.

"Suren! Don't you understand? This is Apollo's prophecy, Poseidon's command!"

"This is…"

"An unbreakable fate!"

After losing Heracles, Jason finally saw the truth.

In Greece, the gods' will could not be defied.

Not even Heracles, renowned as the mightiest of Greece's heroes—or rather, the former mightiest—could escape it.

The gods' will in Greece was an omnipresent fate. What the gods ordained, what they foretold, would inevitably come to pass.

"Suren…" Jason gritted his teeth. "If we don't do as the prophecy says and sacrifice Propontis to Poseidon, the Argo can't go on."

"Do you truly think that whatever the gods say is right?"

Suren's expression remained calm. "Jason, a hero is not defined by strength alone but by an unshakable moral foundation. Can you truly say you're untroubled by this?"

Jason's bitter smile showed he couldn't.

Greek heroes, for all their rough ways and low moral baselines, held at least a primitive sense of good and evil.

Propontis had done no harm to the Argo; in fact, its king had warmly welcomed the heroes. To strike at a "friend" was something no true hero could bear.

In the eyes of a Greek hero, there was simplicity in loyalty: friends brought wine, enemies brought spears. Any place that offered hospitality became a friend.

To attack Propontis after their kindness? That would be a stain on a hero's honor.

The other Argonauts fell silent. To kill their friends would bring them infamy across Greece. No one would dare welcome or praise them.

And besides, Suren would never accept Poseidon's outrageous demand.

Even if the Argonauts threw aside their honor, they couldn't succeed without Suren.

If the gods represented an unreachable sky for the Argonauts, Suren was an unyielding mountain. With Suren barring their way, they would never cross that line.

The heroes despaired, yet none felt it more deeply than Jason. He stared out, dazed, at the Bosporus strait and the two massive rocks that crashed together endlessly in the middle of it.

All that was needed was to cross this one final barrier—to get past the Clashing Rocks, and the path to Colchis would be open, smooth, and clear.

But here, at the adventure's last obstacle, it felt hopelessly out of reach.

Training under Chiron, Jason had once thought the farthest distance was the one separating him from the throne of Iolcus.

When he returned to claim his inheritance from his uncle, he believed the shores of Colchis beyond the Black Sea were the most distant he could imagine.

With the favor of a goddess and the finest heroes of Greece at his side, Jason had never imagined something so close could still feel so impossibly far.

Now, with only a narrow strait separating the Argo from glory, it was as if the whole world was locked away, just out of reach.

Jason gazed at the Clashing Rocks, having stared at them all night, yet feeling he could never look long enough.

Possessed of a cunning, worldly wisdom, Jason had used that long night to think through every angle.

For him, the journey for the Golden Fleece was something beyond life itself, the pinnacle of his honor. It was the story he hoped his children, and his children's children, could proudly recount.

This was the reason he wanted so desperately to be remembered—a chance to forever mark this era with his name.

But that dream was now shattered.

He removed the helmet given to him by Lycus, king of Propontis, which bore an inscription—"A gift to the honorable Argonauts."

"A hero…"

A bitter laugh escaped him. Tears filled his eyes, knowing he could not face this helmet, nor Lycus, who had given it.

Because, for a single moment, he had considered Poseidon's price. To grant Poseidon's wish and continue the journey…

The thought had crossed his mind.

The moment it had, Jason felt unworthy. He couldn't face the man who had treated them as friends.

With a heavy heart, he cast aside the Argonaut's helmet, the symbol of honor, raised his eyes toward the heavens, and glared. He knew that, beyond those heavy clouds, the gods watched.

He drew his sword, and the sound echoed across the silent deck.

The Argonauts stood, waiting. Even Suren watched in silence.

He would allow Jason to make his choice. Suren had voiced his stance; now, Jason had to make his.

Even if Suren feared Jason might make the wrong choice, he wouldn't interrupt. It was the most basic respect.

Even in irreconcilable conflict, Suren's honor held steady.

But Jason did not order an attack on Propontis.

Instead, he turned the sword upon himself.

He had seen the truth: that this was nothing more than a gods' game to force Suren into a choice, and he, Jason, was but a pawn, a mere tool.

Jason realized that to the gods, Suren's response was all that mattered. His dreams, his honor—everything he held dear—were trivial, little more than a footnote to a far grander test.

He was nothing but a stepping stone.

He… was powerless.

"No!"

Jason's eyes blazed with fury, clarity cutting through the night's despair.

"At least there's one thing I can decide for myself!"

Rather than let the gods use him to manipulate Suren, rather than let his life be a tool to stain another's honor—

He would sacrifice himself.

If his life, his one last bit of control, could prevent this scheme from succeeding, then let it end here.

If honor's distant, unreachable peak was no longer within reach, then let him take this one final step.

He didn't hate Suren. Even though Suren was stronger, greater, and more noble, Jason had come to accept that he was simply a man who enjoyed beauty and fame—a man who cherished reputation and desire.

Suren could be high-minded; Jason would go on living his own small life.

But he admired Suren's unyielding commitment to his ideals. He refused to be used to stand in his way.

In this moment, he accepted that Suren's mission was greater than his own dreams. He would offer his life to protect it.

Let Suren go forth, free to follow his own path, unbound by any god's test.

With that final, burning conviction, Jason pressed the blade to his throat—

Yet he found himself paralyzed, the sword mere inches from his skin, unable to cross the tiny gap.

The gods… it had to be the gods.

Only they could wield such power in this age, rendering his will meaningless.

If the gods did not permit it, it simply would not happen. Fate was absolute.

In the face of divine control, Jason's previous belief—"the gods are watching over the Argo"—took on a grim meaning.

Yes, the gods watched the Argo constantly. How could its captain disobey the divine will?

This was a test for Suren. But as a mere pawn—a tool used and discarded—what could he hope to achieve?

Even death was denied him.

Jason murmured bitterly, "To defy the gods…"

"Suren… Suren!"

"Is this what you mean to strive for? You bear all of Greece upon your shoulders, yet your own people can hardly understand it. We… No, I have been blind!"

"You're right. You've been right all along!"

Faced with his own helplessness, Jason understood at last the weight of Suren's vision. He finally saw the towering ideal that was Suren's will.

And with this revelation, he realized the terrible tragedy of it—

For if, by some twist of divine will, his life became the flaw on Suren's grand mission…

The glory he'd dreamed of for himself paled, vanished.

Jason's tears flowed freely now, caught between fervent hope and paralyzing dread. He prayed Suren would disregard him and release the arrow that would end his suffering.

And yet, in his heart, he also yearned for some impossible miracle, for a way to have it all, to see his dream fulfilled…

Though he was just Jason, the "fool," it was still his one, lifelong ambition.

But simply imagining it—defying the gods' iron will—filled him with abject terror.

Jason, trembling, held his lips tight, knowing that if he dared voice what the gods forbade, even the small freedom of speech would be stripped away.

Tears streaming down his face, he glanced at Suren and the other Argonauts.

"…Had I known, I would never have begun this journey!"

Suren, please—do not heed me!

Suren, end my life!

Suren, do not let this journey end!

Suren…

There was so much he wanted to say, but his voice failed. He could not say anything that might influence Suren's choice. Not a word.

Yet, having watched Jason's suffering unfold, Suren had seen the despair and plea within him. What choice would he make?

Not only the Argonauts, but even the gods themselves, watched in keen anticipation.

The eyes of the world focused on him. His impact upon it had transcended all of Greece's heroes.

Suren offered a faint smile, one untouched by the despair that marred Jason's face.

"Compared to those who labor quietly for the sake of their homes, guarding their families and their land—what does our Argonaut journey represent, if not a desire for glory?"

Suren spoke gently, his smile calm, "Are they even comparable?"

For Suren, it wasn't a question. The answer was already a denial.

For human life is beyond value.

One person or a thousand, ten thousand—the worth of a life is absolute.

The so-called Argonaut heroes, after all, were just bandits chasing their own dreams, allowing their desires to lead them forward.

Jason, night after night, had filled the Argonauts with tales, making them believe the Golden Fleece would bring a glory that would last for centuries, something that would be sung throughout Greece…

To Suren, these so-called heroes were nothing more than fools, lost in the poison of glory.

And with that, Suren raised his bow, the Aurum Altissimum, a god-forged artifact glinting with its own golden radiance.

He drew it to a full crescent, the arrow of pure light aimed squarely at Jason—at this man who cherished the Golden Fleece quest more than his own life and would rather die than end the journey.

Those on board the Argo, as well as the gods high above, including Apollo and Artemis, watched breathlessly. Artemis squeezed Apollo's arm so tightly that even he, a god, felt it.

The gods watched Suren's choice.

And among them, one was different.

Athena, hidden among the Argonauts, smiled.

The next moment, the arrow flew.

It was a perfect shot, godlike in its precision, taught by the goddess of the hunt herself, rivaling Apollo's own legendary aim.

The light streaked like a comet, striking—

Jason's sword, which hovered so close to his throat.

The blade, touching his skin, clattered to the ground without harming him in the slightest.

Such skill was divine in its brilliance.

"Jason, have you so little faith in me?"

Suren's voice was calm. "We are all Argonauts. Why would you think I would not support this journey?"

"Though—Jason, you now resemble a hero. Congratulations, Captain."

"All dreams are worthy. Even this Argo quest, a pursuit of glory… In this golden age, all dreams should have their fulfillment!"

The gods marveled.

Yes, this was Suren, eternally Suren.

Such was he, an ideal hero. He would chastise the heroes' reckless disregard for others, yet would stand firm against the gods to protect that same honor.

Once, Athena had wondered why Suren would rebuke the heroes on behalf of the common people. He had answered her simply, yet his response had moved her to her core. She alone had never doubted him.

Yes, she thought, this is Suren's way.

To lead society by honor requires that honor itself be upheld.

Suren lowered his eyes. "I have made my choice."

He spoke with unbreakable resolve. "The Argo will press on!"

"However—"

"Sea King Poseidon, I reject your terms!"

"I will not sacrifice anyone to calm your so-called fury!"

"But without Poseidon's aid, how will we cross the Clashing Rocks?" Jason fell to the deck, despair in his voice. "Without the Sea King's help, we'll die there!"

Suren's gaze was steady. "I'll cross it myself."

His strength fully unrestrained, his immortal form exuded an overwhelming power.

"Argonauts," Suren called, "we are forging a new legend! Why not challenge the Clashing Rocks ourselves?"

"Is this great barrier, this so-called insurmountable legend, truly enough to stop the Argonauts?"

"Yes, these are the famed Clashing Rocks, but we are the Argonauts!"

When Phineas's prophecy had first come, Jason and Heracles had roused the crew, yet Suren had been silent.

Now, in the true face of challenge, with Heracles gone and Jason's spirit faltering, Suren rose to bear the weight of their hearts.

Faced with the gods' trial, Suren neither yielded nor allowed another to force his hand.

"Brilliant, Suren!"

Athena praised inwardly. The gods' trials are full of traps, with both answers meant to make him falter, to expose Suren's human frailty to his divine supporters.

The gods had given Suren two options. To submit to Poseidon's absurd demand, or to abandon the quest in defeat. Both paths would show the gods his weakness.

They would see a child, still flawed, unable to withstand the weight of his dreams.

But Suren's choice had broken the test.

He would not yield to the gods, nor allow others to dictate his course.

If he bent to every god's will, how could he ever command them?

This was what Zeus had wanted to see in him—a capacity for defiance.

Without question, Suren had taken the single most important, crucial step.

---

T/N: HELLO PEOPLE ONE PERSON- YES, ONE PERSON! ASKED ME TO MAKE A SERVANT SHEET FOR KAELAR AND SUREN NOW WOULD YOU LIKE THAT? (vote by replying) (also they'd be put into a servant container so slight nerf, and it'd be completely made up by me so I get full control ;)

ye

na

---

if ye

KEAERLA

saber

rider

beserker

ruler

beast

SUBEN

archer

rider

ruler

okie bye

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