Type-Moon: The Human Love Simulator

Of course, the first step in enlightening the Saxon pirates was not to simply walk up and start preaching to them.

The first step had to be breaking their spirit—using force to subdue their violence, but doing so without excessive bloodshed. Otherwise, strength would become mere brutality.

There's a saying that rings true: "We study to reason with the barbarians calmly, but maintain our power so the barbarians will listen to reason."

"I can't go about this recklessly. Maple Ridge has only about five hundred knights. We have the numbers and the strength advantage, but it's easy to drive off the Saxons. Subduing them is another story."

"We need to push them into a desperate corner, and then... offer them surrender."

Kaelar knew the terrain around Maple Ridge like the back of his hand. For a commander to be unfamiliar with the lay of the land was a sign of incompetence. Against Saxon barbarians, who still clung to ancient ways, even a slight application of strategy would do. He quickly devised countless ways to defeat them.

"Lily, watch closely. This time, I'll teach you how to apply the art of war," Kaelar said to Arthur. "You can study military theory for a lifetime, but if you can't apply it, it's just words on paper. The essence of strategy lies in its execution."

Kaelar immediately summoned the knight captain. He dispatched a hundred knights to circle behind the Saxons and destroy their ships, then split the remaining four hundred into several groups. Using his familiarity with the local terrain, he orchestrated a surrounding maneuver right under the Saxons' noses.

"...What a disappointment," Kaelar sighed as he sat on a rock. "Are the Saxons really this weak? If this is their level, even if a few thousand more come, they'd all be doomed before me, Kaelar."

Celtic knights were fearsome indeed. As a people rooted in hunting and fishing, the Celts produced some of the best warriors of the cold weapon era. With ten thousand fully armed Celtic knights, no force could withstand their charge on an open battlefield.

Once the Saxons were on land, they were no match for the Celts in small skirmishes or direct confrontations. The real problem was the Saxons' relentless harassment and guerrilla tactics, which constantly kept the Celts on edge.

But take away their mobility, and the Saxons, like the Celts, were just as naive and reckless. They had no understanding of ambushes or strategies. Their idea of battle was to charge en masse.

Facing such opponents left Kaelar feeling utterly bored. There was no opportunity to test his strategies against them.

"I could easily send them to their deaths."

Kaelar suddenly chuckled. "But I choose to give them a way out!"

"Why?" Arthur asked suddenly. "Didn't Uncle Ector say that a true Celtic warrior should kill every invader to the last?"

"Because I choose to love them," Kaelar said with a gentle smile. "Even if they are my enemies, I am willing to give them a chance to embrace me."

"Lily, this is the path of a saint."

"Do you want to be a saint?" Arthur hesitated before saying, "Kael... I don't want you to be a saint."

I don't want you to love everyone.

Because that would be too exhausting.

Arthur had seen Ector and Kaelar argue many times. Ector acknowledged Kaelar as his most capable son, but he could never accept what he deemed to be Kaelar's naive ideals.

Kaelar, for his part, frequently criticized the savage ways of the Celts. If Ector were home more often, they might have fought daily.

Arthur's thinking was simple: If even your father doesn't accept you, why would you try to love those who also reject you?

"Kael, you only need to love those who are willing to love you," she murmured.

But Kaelar had already started walking away and didn't hear her.

Once a decision was made, a path chosen, there was no need for others to understand.

By then, the invading Saxon pirates had been cornered in a dense forest by the Celtic knights following Kaelar's strategy. Their ships were burned, the guards eliminated, and their escape routes cut off.

If he wanted to, Kaelar could simply order the forest to be set ablaze. The Saxons would suffer the same fate as their predecessors, who had screamed and writhed as they were consumed by flames.

But instead, Kaelar gave the order to encircle without attacking.

The knights were in an uproar. Some assumed he intended to starve the invaders out, but it made no sense. They had suffered no casualties, while the Saxons had already been whittled down by ambushes in the forest. Whether through fire or charge, the invaders could be easily wiped out.

The Celts had a semi-military democracy. In wartime, knights could question their lord's commands, and if an order seemed senseless, they could refuse to carry it out.

The Round Table of Arthurian legend was the ultimate expression of this kind of military democracy—Arthur would sit with his knights at a table without any position of honor, discussing matters as equals.

So, when Kaelar suggested surrender, almost every Celtic knight opposed him. Their objections were fierce, with some of Ector's old guard using Kaelar's youth as an excuse to undermine him.

Standing behind Kaelar, Arthur watched the faces of those men—men who did not understand him, those Celts who couldn't fathom his vision...

They raged against his refusal to annihilate the enemy, his desire to negotiate a surrender, labeling him "foolish" and "naive." Their faces grew red with anger, as if they were confronting the most unforgivable betrayal.

And yet, this was the first time any of them had met the Saxons.

It was clear: ideological and philosophical differences could indeed create bitter, irreconcilable enemies.

Kaelar's expression remained calm, serene. He spoke in a clear, steady voice. "I do not blame you for not understanding. I am willing to teach you the right way."

"You ask me why I issued such an absurd command?"

His gaze was piercing, brown eyes locked onto an older knight who had challenged him. "Because I am Kaelar, lord of Maple Ridge. These are my laws, and you will obey them."

"Because I am right, and you are wrong. You have fallen into wickedness and don't even realize it. I do not blame you for this ignorance, but if you resist what is right, what sorrow that is for you!"

Kaelar's voice carried conviction. "What I am undertaking here is a great cleansing for the Celts, for the Kingdom of Britain—a lesson that will sweep away a thousand years of darkness."

His stern command left the knights bewildered. Though they did not openly defy him anymore, it was clear they weren't convinced. They had already resolved that whoever was sent to negotiate would massacre the Saxons instead, blatantly ignoring Kaelar's instructions.

Kaelar could see through their intentions at a glance. These men didn't respect his orders outwardly, let alone in their hearts.

Without tangible proof, words alone would never convince them, even if his logic was flawless.

Kaelar dismounted, saying, "I will go negotiate with the Saxons myself. You will wait here."

The knights were stunned. If their lord died and they lived, they would bear the greatest dishonor—a fate worse than death for warriors who valued honor above all else.

They tried to reason with him, even attempting to use force to stop him. Unfortunately for them, Kaelar, though young, was already a formidable warrior. The circle of knights that tried to surround him were easily defeated.

Though he had yet to grow into the legendary Celtic hero who could crush giants with his bare hands, he was already more than capable of facing a hundred foes at once.

"Sir Kaelar, I could negotiate with the Saxons. Why risk yourself?"

The castle steward, who had been overseeing defenses, pleaded, "I will follow your orders to the letter, Lord Kaelar."

"I trust you. If you are willing to act rightly, that is good," Kaelar said, before shaking his head. "But this task must not fall to you."

"If any of you were to go, your lives would be at risk."

Kaelar's eyes swept the assembled knights. "Do you think me a fool, one who believes the Saxons will simply surrender when I ask?"

"If they make a desperate last stand, who among you can survive an assault by over a hundred enraged Saxons?"

"No, it must be me. Even if they refuse to surrender, they are no match for me."

Among the Celts, strength spoke louder than words.

Though only twelve, Kaelar's strength was enough to subdue the knights.

Beaten down, the knights began to listen, grudgingly considering the wisdom in Kaelar's words.

This was the reality of authority—without the backing of power, even the most reasonable arguments would fall on deaf ears. Uther could spout any nonsense he liked, and many Celts would still follow him.

Kaelar was their lord, and a mighty warrior besides. Respecting strength was in the Celtic blood.

Kaelar never worried about enlightening the Celts; they were straightforward enough. Using their own customs, teaching them was simple.

But the Saxons were different. These were pirates, raised on the seas, not faithless like the Celts. They followed the cross and believed God permitted all their actions. Even if they violated their own teachings, they thought sincere repentance would absolve them.

Enlightening them would be a true challenge.

"Kael, I want to go with you!" Arthur grabbed Kaelar's sleeve, her face determined. "They don't believe in you, but I do."

"Falsehoods do not become true just because they are repeated ten thousand times; truths do not turn false simply because they are denied."

Kaelar's voice was calm. "But thank you, Lily... Thank you for believing in me."