Type-Moon: The Human Love Simulator

"I... I don't... know. I really don't know..."

Nimue choked, coughing up a mouthful of blood. Kaelar stepped forward to catch him, and Nimue's trembling hand clutched tightly to Kaelar's arm, his eyes brimming with tears. "Master Kaelar, I don't want to die yet..."

I haven't fulfilled Powell's last wish... to complete The Gospel of Kaelar properly.

I haven't witnessed with my own eyes the utopian Eden you speak of, that dream of unity among all peoples.

I haven't...

Nimue's eyes remained wide open, even in death. One hand still gripped the Gospel of Kaelar Powell had entrusted to him, while the other clutched Kaelar's arm with a desperate strength.

"This," Kaelar said quietly, "only proves that I, Kaelar, am 'absolutely right!'"

He closed Nimue's eyes, and the fire of his conviction burned even brighter in his gaze. "Because I am absolutely right, people are willing to give their lives to defend my teachings."

"This is my legacy. This is my enlightenment."

Kaelar's voice rang with an unyielding faith. "My truth, carried through heaven and earth, is the ultimate truth of this world."

"What you see is not always real, and what you hear is not always true. Do not let appearances cloud your mind, and do not allow emotions to sway your judgment."

Kaelar's gaze swept over the two thousand Anglo-Saxons, whose souls shone with a soft golden light. "Three thousand of you have gathered here today. I do not believe this is mere coincidence."

"You were able to take down Hengist and Horsa so easily. That, too, is no coincidence."

Kaelar believed in the power of his teachings, but he was not naive enough to think that every soul could be reformed.

There were those whose roots were tainted by evil, beyond redemption. Kaelar still wouldn't kill them, for even the wicked had their uses, and he would ensure they would never harm others again.

---

The Anglo-Saxons around him listened to Kaelar's words, confused. They couldn't understand the conversation between Kaelar and Nimue—was there some hidden meaning behind it?

Was this all a part of Powell and Nimue's plan?

Some of the brighter ones looked around at their unexpected comrades, drawn together from various ships, united by a mysterious common cause. Only then did they realize the magnitude of Nimue's actions.

He had managed to identify, out of tens of thousands, those who had truly absorbed Kaelar's teachings.

Nimue had even anticipated that Kaelar might show mercy to Hengist and Horsa, setting an ambush to ensure that these two vile leaders were killed, leaving Kaelar no chance to pardon them.

One of the Anglo-Saxons murmured to himself, "No wonder… Nimue hid so well, we couldn't find him anywhere, and yet he suddenly appeared in the silent forest with that piercing shout..."

Standing nearby, Artoria watched it all unfold, absorbing a valuable lesson—what you see isn't always the truth, and reality often lies hidden beneath the surface.

"Little lion, what are you standing there for?" Kaelar's voice broke through her thoughts. He didn't turn around as he continued, "My teachings are not yet complete. Hurry and follow me!"

"I came here to hunt down that old fox, Hengist, and in the process, I've missed a few along the way."

"My teachings must reach every Anglo-Saxon."

---

Kaelar's teachings of enlightenment continued. The only difference now was that he had chosen to prioritize pursuing Hengist.

Letting those two escape would be a disaster. He had no intention of giving them the chance to play the villainous role in some future drama, and that's why he had chased them down. Yet, surprisingly, they had fallen to Nimue's hand.

Nimue—what a remarkable talent!

Seven thousand Anglo-Saxons were spread across the vast territory. Had they been more familiar with the terrain, they might have been impossible to track down.

Their forces had fallen into utter chaos, descending into the most feared scenario in warfare—mass panic.

Everyone held their weapons nervously, attacking anyone who got too close. On Earth, without any supernatural influence, this kind of chaos would have led to horrific casualties.

But this was the Moon, and under Kaelar's inhuman prowess, over seventy thousand Anglo-Saxons either voluntarily laid down their weapons or had them forcibly shattered.

"Now, do you understand?"

Kaelar's voice cut through the chaos. "Do you understand my teachings?"

"Drop your weapons! Those who lay down their arms willingly, I, Kaelar, will forgive!"

The Anglo-Saxons looked up at the merciful 'Saint.' Behind him lay a field of shattered weapons, their comrades incapacitated beyond further resistance. Yet Kaelar's blunt sword remained as clean and pristine as ever, his breathing calm and steady, showing no signs of having subdued over fifty thousand men in a short span.

He still appeared like the beautiful youth he was—elegant and unscathed, more suited for a noble's ball than a battlefield.

His expression remained serene, but the burning desire in his eyes was fiercer than the flames that consumed the land.

It was the love he bore for humanity.

He would not allow any life to be taken before his eyes because he loved all equally.

---

"Kaelar, my son, you must not come to harm!"

Sir Ector rode with more than ten thousand knights, racing desperately toward Maple Leaf Ridge. These were the primary forces that defended Camelot itself.

As the royal steward to King Uther, Sir Ector had the authority to command such a force.

When he had received news of the Anglo-Saxon's full-scale invasion of Maple Leaf Ridge, he hadn't hesitated for even a second. Without waiting for King Uther's approval, he had used his own authority to mobilize half the knights in defense.

Such an action violated the most fundamental rules between lord and vassal. Had King Uther not been on the verge of death, weakened and frail, Ector would surely have paid dearly for his actions.

But Sir Ector couldn't be bothered with any of that. When he heard the news, his mind went blank, and he cast aside his loyalty to King Uther. His first instinct had been to gather everyone he could and return home—to protect his son.

In truth, if King Uther had known, he would have given the same order. The next ruler, Arthur Pendragon, was also in Maple Leaf Ridge, and the King would never abandon his last hope.

Even if it meant all-out war with the Tyrant Vortigern.

Ector spurred his warhorse forward, struggling to keep his composure. The voice of Merlin, cool and steady, reached him from behind. "Sir Ector, Royal Steward of King Uther's court, do not let rage and anxiety consume your heart, lest they cloud your reason."

Ector had never heard Merlin sound so detached—there was an uncharacteristic chill to the Mage's words. Yet Ector's response was wild with desperation, "Great Mage, I respect you, but if you've come to stop me, you'll have to strike me down!"

His hand hovered close to his weapon.

"Ector!" Merlin's voice rang out, sharp and commanding. "Calm yourself!"

"Arthur is Camelot's last hope. How could the King abandon him?"

Merlin's words grounded Ector's fraying resolve. "If you exhaust your horses to their limits now, by the time you reach Maple Leaf Ridge, they'll be useless. Your hasty judgment could spell the doom of Camelot's finest."

"…"

Ector's reason returned for a moment, and he cast a desperate look at Merlin. "Great Mage, you don't need to march with the main force. Could you… could you go ahead to Maple Leaf Ridge?"

"If you can bring back that foolish, boar-headed son of mine, Kaelar, I swear upon my bloodline and the light of Lugh, the Sun God—I will repay you with my life."

"Oh, I really am doomed to a life of hardship, aren't I?" Merlin sighed. The playful air returned, the mischievous spark back in her eyes as she gazed at Ector. "One after another, all of you bowing your heads for your precious children. It's true—having a child really does give you a weakness!"

Sir Ector, who so often referred to her as the 'Great Mage,' had never bowed his head to anyone. Yet today, he pleaded so earnestly. It truly was a sight to behold.