Type-Moon: The Human Love Simulator

Thinking about both Ector and Morgan, who completely failed to understand him, Kaelar couldn't help but shake his head and sigh. "What a pity... You're both Celts, barbarians, who no longer understand such refined and simple truths."

The righteous person has no enemies.

Righteousness isn't mere naive kindness or foolishness.

It's when the good say you're good, and the bad say you're bad.

True invincibility comes from being so righteous that even your enemies are compelled to submit to you.

"Lily, what kind of ruler do you want to be?"

"If you wish to rule Britain with authority and brutality, you will never defeat Vortigern. His violence is unmatched on this island—he embodies Britain's rage."

"If you want to defeat him, following in your weak father's footsteps won't work either. Vortigern shattered his courage, and his reign is hardly worth mentioning."

Kaelar's gaze was calm, his tone steady, without any hint of mockery. Yet his words were audacious—he casually critiqued the two kings who ruled Britain, even slightly belittling them.

Arthur, however, couldn't say Kaelar was wrong. Her young mind, which had already started to think independently, realized that what he said made sense.

After all, when compared to truly civilized people like the Romans or the people of Huaxia, the Celts really did seem like mere savages.

Just look at how Uther and Merlin handled Arthur's upbringing. The Celts didn't even have a structured system for educating elites. The local Druids were steeped in primitive religious values—kill, burn, destroy.

In Celtic culture, only those who had slaughtered countless enemies—killing indiscriminately, regardless of gender or age—were considered heroes. Cu Chulainn, for example, was notorious for his numerous massacres.

The so-called "chivalric code" only applied to interactions between nobles. When fully armed knights stormed into rival lords' lands, slaughtering peasants and destroying estates, it was regarded as "honorable."

This is why the Celts were eventually defeated and enslaved by the invading Saxons—because, barbaric as they were, the Saxon pirates were slightly more advanced.

That said, whether they were Celts or Germanic Saxons, to the Romans, they were all just barbarians.

Unfortunately, Rome had fractured, and the Celts of Britannia seized the chance to declare independence. There were even rumors that the Germanic tribes on the continent were now besieging Rome, reversing the tides of history.

"It's the limitations of the era, the societal atmosphere..." Kaelar sighed deeply, his dissatisfaction with Celtic "honor" and values plain to see.

Heroes defined by the number of innocents they've killed?

Celtic heroes may have seemed ferocious and brave, but they were merely terrorizing defenseless peasants.

Slaughtering the innocent doesn't build honor—it deadens respect for life and ultimately leads to a disregard for one's own.

"Kaelar, are you unhappy with Britain's current state?" Arthur, noticing Kaelar's mood, asked softly, "When I become king, I'll listen to you... Once I'm king, you can do whatever you want."

Who said Arthur didn't understand people?

The little red dragon understood very well. She could sense Kaelar's discontent and feared he might leave Britain, so she quickly promised him everything—even offering to entrust him with the weight of the crown.

"Lily, if Merlin were to hear you say that, you'd no longer be allowed to stay by my side."

Kaelar ruffled Arthur's soft, pale face. "A ruler cannot delegate their power to others. A king may not always be isolated, but a king must never be without authority for even a single day."

Arthur pouted, "Kael, stop pinching my face, that's mean... I don't fully understand what you're saying, but I trust you. You're the wisest person I know, the person I trust the most in all things."

"…The path to kingship is long. Don't speak of such things in the future. Neither Merlin nor your father will like hearing it."

Kaelar gently held Arthur's small hand. "Remember, until you're strong enough to not rely on anyone, you must never reveal your true thoughts, no matter whether they are good or bad, innocent or mature."

"Right now, you must hide every thought you have. You need to appear exactly as Uther expects—a perfect response to his desires. Otherwise, you will suffer."

Kaelar's tone was calm. "The phrase 'learn from mistakes' exists for a reason... But I don't want you to learn this the hard way. Power is the source of influence, and it's only when you're powerful enough that you can truly speak your mind."

There are only two things that matter: words and weapons.

For a ruler, both must never be entrusted to others.

Arthur was only seven years old, and even though Kaelar protected her, she was still vulnerable before Uther and Merlin. It was only thanks to Merlin's reluctance to interfere with destiny that Uther allowed Arthur to stay with Kaelar.

But if Arthur's thoughts were ever exposed, Uther would surely intervene, pulling her away from Kaelar's influence, ensuring his daughter remained the perfect king he envisioned.

Arthur's small face grew tense as she nodded earnestly. "I understand, Kael. From now on, I won't reveal my true thoughts to anyone…" Except for you.

She didn't say the last part aloud. Though she didn't fully understand emotions yet, Arthur could sense who treated her well and who didn't.

Uther saw her as nothing more than a tool. Merlin, at least, entered her dreams to teach her some basic knowledge, but he, too, was simply fulfilling a role without any emotional connection to her.

Morgan viewed her as an enemy, while her uncle—whom she had never met—was eagerly waiting for the destined Red Dragon to challenge him.

Everyone had expectations for her, imposing their desires on the child who had been born into a web of conspiracies and ambitions. She was the future King of Britain, a flawed replica of the true king, the destined Red Dragon...

Before she arrived at Kaelar's castle, no one had ever treated her as "Arthur." No one had taken her hand, spoken to her, or cared for her as he did.

In this era, people had no concept of human rights. They didn't even see themselves as people. They had roles, responsibilities, but they were never treated as individuals.

Fathers could impose their will on their children, and the people could force their expectations onto their king. But no one ever asked the children or the king what they truly wanted.

Kaelar suddenly said, "Lily, I have something to attend to. Will you be okay on your own at the castle?"

Arthur's face grew serious as she nodded firmly. "Yes, Kael. I'll wait for you to return."

Her golden hair was neatly tied up, with only one stubborn strand standing proudly atop her head. Her expression was so serious that she looked like a stern little doll.

Dressed in boyish clothes and exuding a spirited energy, her face, though exquisitely crafted, left one uncertain about her gender.

Kaelar chuckled. "Lily, you don't have to be so serious! I won't leave until tomorrow. For now, go get some sleep!"

Despite his words, Arthur remained stern. The little ahoge rarely smiled.

"Sir Kaelar, the Saxons have landed. They've already engaged our knights at the front."

A knight in armor approached Kaelar and reported, "Please lead us in defeating them."

Kaelar's expression darkened. "Why now... Fine, I'll go."

Since Ector had burned thousands of Saxons alive in the forest near Maple Ridge years ago, the Saxons had been terrified of attacking. With a population of less than 300,000, and fewer able-bodied men, the loss of several thousand had been a massive defeat.

Ector's reputation had soared, known both among the Celts and the Saxons.

But after seven or eight years, Ector was seldom at Maple Ridge, and with Vortigern's frequent orders, the Saxons had begun to covet the wealthiest land in Britain once more.

If they could take Maple Ridge, everyone would leave with a full load, even if they had to give seventy percent to their captain, leaders, and Vortigern. The remaining thirty percent of plunder would still be a significant haul.

This was just a small raid, a test of Maple Ridge's defenses. Coastal territories were always subject to Saxon raids.

If this raid revealed the weaknesses of Maple Ridge, the next wave wouldn't be a few hundred men—it would be much worse.

Kaelar had two options. He could use a surprise attack to wipe out the hundred or so men, but the Saxon raids would never stop. Even if he spent his whole life killing them, he could never slay every Saxon.

But he would never do that. Never!

He wanted to try something else.

Not just a solution for this era—but perhaps one that could serve as a solution for humanity itself.

Kaelar despised the barbarism of the Celts. He refused to sneer at their savagery while committing the same acts himself.

And then...

Kaelar remembered that fire from his childhood, the sickening smell of burning flesh. He recalled how two strangers, with no reason to hate one another, were made to fight to the death across battlefields.

"Killing is cursed. That is the true principle," Kaelar murmured. "The Celtic way is wrong. Killing to stop killing cannot bring peace. I will try a different path."

Life was precious, and every death pained Kaelar deeply.

"I am a civilized man, not a true Celtic barbarian. I will never be assimilated by this era!"

Kaelar vowed to himself, "If the barbaric Saxons and Celts do not understand the principles of being human, then I will teach them."

The worldview of a civilized man could never align with that of Celtic savages.

Thus, Kaelar believed, without a doubt, that he was right.

Kaelar was certain—no one truly wanted to travel miles to a foreign land to kill a farmer they had never even seen.

This was the foundation for enlightenment. Human nature might not be inherently good, but it was not inherently evil, either.

Goodness and wickedness were both rooted in the human heart. Only through teaching could people be drawn away from evil and closer to goodness.

Forgiveness and enlightenment were not without hope.

In ancient times, the Marquis of Wu pacified the south, capturing and releasing the same enemy seven times, showing the ultimate in saintly forgiveness and enlightenment. His virtue was remembered for a thousand years—so much so that even in later Myanmar, they continued to honor his benevolence.

"If the Celts lack someone like the Marquis of Wu, then I, Kaelar, will be the one to set the path of enlightenment."

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T/N: I'll be referring to Artoria as Arthur, until she reveals her true gender it's to avoid any inconsistencies when changing from Arthur to Artoria when speaking with different people.