Simultaneous Transmigration: We Share a Role-Playing System

Chapter 132 Lord of Mechanics and Arcane Arts, Pioneer of Evolution

The battlefield, where the top heroic spirits were locked in fierce combat, was suddenly halted by a seemingly ordinary magician. This absurd and bizarre scene left the clock tower monarchs, who were observing the war from thousands of miles away through magic, utterly astonished.

Many monarchs squinted and immediately recognized the figure standing in the center of the battlefield. Wasn't that the genius magician, Victor, who had once sold them various magic research patents at low prices?

However, in the eyes of these pampered monarchs who wield magical power, Viktor was nothing more than a lowly lackey with a bit of cleverness but no magical family background. If it weren't for the fact that they had gained a lot of benefits, they wouldn't have bothered to remember his name at all.

They simply couldn't understand why such an almost insignificant character would appear in Snowfield City, the core battlefield where top-tier heroes and various forces gathered. Their astonishment quickly turned into disdain and confusion.

After all, the top elites they painstakingly dispatched were almost entirely blocked outside the mysterious barrier surrounding Snowfield City, unable to even take a single step inside.

Yet a low-level magician with few magic loops, who was merely a teaching assistant, could easily appear there and even make top-tier heroic spirits who were locked in fierce combat stop fighting.

Could it be the work of King El-Melloi II?

Meanwhile, El-Melloi II himself is unaware that he has been framed, and is instead extremely shocked that Victor has also appeared in Snowfield City.

It's one thing to be an idiot like Flat, but taking his game merchandise as a relic to participate in the Holy Grail War is something Flat would do, and it's very much like my own style when I was young.

But why is Viktor there? Didn't he take leave to go home and visit his family?

The thought that his gentle and reliable ailing teaching assistant, his close friend when he was troubled, had actually participated in the Holy Grail War behind his back filled El-Melloi II with a sense of betrayal and deception.

Perhaps, he knew nothing about himself except the name Victor.

The battlefield in the city center gradually quieted down. The top heroes who were fighting fiercely stopped and focused their attention on the seemingly ordinary magician in the center.

In this eerie silence, the bloodlust that had driven Hercules to madness and relentless slaughter was gradually fading from his mind.

The Khorne runes engraved on his body seemed to be scorched by flames, emitting thick black smoke. The eight-pointed star symbolizing the corruption of chaos in his eyes, which were originally filled with violence, was also flickering incessantly, its light gradually weakening, as if it was about to completely dissipate into the depths of his pupils.

Unlike him, Ishtar, corrupted by Slaanesh, remained calm and showed no sign of distress.

Although Slaanesh's power accounts for 65% of her body at this moment, the dominant consciousness is still that of the Mesopotamian goddess of harvest.

She tilted her head, observing the human before her with great interest, her eyes showing no wariness, only pure curiosity.

Seeing that the battle had subsided, King Richard the Lionheart slowly sheathed his decorative sword, stepped forward with an upright posture, and spoke first, asking Locke in a calm and polite tone, "Well then, since no one has come first, I will ask first: are you also a magician here to vie for the Holy Grail?"

As soon as Charlie finished speaking, Gilgamesh, who was hovering above everyone's heads and surrounded by a golden halo, couldn't help but let out a hearty, mocking laugh. His laughter was full of disdain for the title "magician": "Magician? Are you trying to make me laugh? I never thought you would be so good at being a court jester."

After a loud, angry laugh, Gilgamesh's expression instantly turned serious, his aura plummeted, and his previously languid demeanor became incredibly sharp.

His wine-red pupils bulged with barely suppressed rage. He pulled Ea directly from the Gate of Babylon, the sword tip pointing straight at Locke. His voice was icy cold, each word carrying a questioning tone: "Throughout history, there have been countless people in this world who have dared to deceive and betray me, but you are the first to have angered me so much."

"Tell me, Fujimura Locke, you who helms the ship of humanity's destiny, the future ruler of mankind, do you intend to unilaterally break the contract between us?!"

Emiya Shirou and his two companions, who had just arrived at the edge of the battlefield, were initially shocked upon hearing Gilgamesh's voice, but then only four words remained in their minds.

Locke Fujimura.

The familiar name triggered a spell in their memories, and the erased memories began to resurface. The past and the truth of the Fifth Holy Grail War gave them a splitting headache.

Upon hearing Gilgamesh's question, a question arose in the minds of all the spectators: Who is Fujimura Locke?

Only a few people had guessed the answer, including Faldius, who had been warned by Locke not long ago. He jumped to his feet, staring at Locke in disbelief, and said in a trembling voice, "Wait! The Lord of Humanity? Could it be—he is the Emperor?"

"He's not from the future? No, that's not right, that's not right."

At this moment, Faldius realized that because they only knew his name and title, they had always assumed that he was a tyrant who would appear in the future, but they never thought that he might be a person from the same era as them.

As he recalled Locke's incredible behavior, he gradually realized the truth.

The other party is not a tyrant who ruled an era in the future history of mankind, but the Lord of mankind who will rule mankind from a certain point in the future!

Just as all the light focused on Locke, he, as the focus, simply replied to Gilgamesh: "I have abandoned that name, and the future."

As soon as he finished speaking, Locke knelt down and bent over to wipe away the huge cement fragments that were still warm from the gunpowder smoke beside him, revealing a small, curled-up corpse.

She was the little girl who was swallowed up by the aftershocks and died innocently in that earth-shattering battle of heroic spirits.

Until her last breath, her slender arms were still tightly wrapped around the thing in her arms, a birthday gift from her father—a teddy bear doll with an outdated, old-fashioned design and worn, pilling edges from repeated rubbing.

Locke reached out and gently grasped those small, already cold and stiff hands.

The instant their fingertips touched, the "Principle of Understanding" returned by the Emperor activated uncontrollably. Fragments of the girl's short life, carrying scalding heat and shattered regrets, flooded his mind like a burst dam.

She was born into an ordinary family. Life was simple and poor, but filled with small moments of warmth. Her parents didn't have any extraordinary abilities, but they gave her all the love they could. Even when they were struggling to make ends meet, they never hesitated to give her their company and tenderness.

The tragedy happened not long ago when my father was diagnosed with a serious hereditary disease. Our peaceful life collapsed instantly, and the whole family was plunged into an abyss of hardship.

The sensible girl learned everything and secretly sold all her beloved toys, just wanting to contribute her meager strength to this crumbling family.

Every night before going to bed, she would clench her little hands and pray to God, asking again and again that her father's illness would get better soon.

After enduring a long and hopeless tug-of-war and waiting, a miracle truly occurred: my father's illness miraculously improved and healed.

Even though the family incurred a heavy debt that they might never be able to repay in their lifetime to pay off the medical bills, on the day she was discharged from the hospital, her father still gritted his teeth and bought back the bear doll that meant so much to her.

That was the first toy he ever gave to his daughter, and it was also the most precious treasure she kept in her heart.

For this family, it was a miracle; for the innocent little girl, she could only thank God for not taking her father away.

But just as she was falling asleep in the night, clutching her recovered doll and filled with beautiful expectations for the future, a sudden war, unrelated to her, crushed all her hopes without warning and took away her life before it could truly blossom.

This is merely a microcosm of the victims of this Holy Grail War, an insignificant part of the countless tragedies since the dawn of humanity, and a death that will become a luxury in the future.

From that moment on, Locke truly understood the pain of Demon Void and why Emperor Locke had specifically chosen one of himself to bear this pain.

At this moment, he was no longer simply Locke, nor was he merely acting out a role; he wanted to truly end this suffering.

Just as the golden, gleaming voice reverberated throughout the battlefield, a completely different energy fluctuation suddenly emerged beside the Arcane Pioneer.

The power known as psionic energy, or the source of arcane magic, surged silently from Locke's center, sweeping across the entire Snowfield City.

His body began to undergo visible changes. Strange purple runes appeared on his skin, gleaming with a cold luster. Metallic inlays slowly emerged along his bone structure, completely fusing flesh, machinery, and arcane magic into one.

"Your fighting has exceeded my plans. You should not have caused so much unnecessary destruction and harmed so many innocent lives."

Locke's voice rang out, trembling slightly like an electric current overload, yet carrying an indescribable divine pressure. Every word clearly reached the ears of everyone present, making him seem even more detached from the realm of ordinary humans.

"But it doesn't matter, I'll clean up the mess for you."

The cane, originally crafted by Shirou Emiya himself, had shed its original simple appearance under the power of the Lord of Mechanics and Arcane Arts. Vibrant biological veins appeared on its surface, growing and multiplying wildly as if it had come to life, eventually transforming into a scepter symbolizing authority, which he held firmly in his hand.

At the same time, throughout the entire city of Snowfield, all inorganic creations that conformed to the concept of machinery, from the steel skeletons in collapsed buildings and the wreckage of cars on the streets to the automatic turrets of the security system and even the metal weapons in the hands of the heroic spirits, all emitted a uniform hum.

That was submission, that was a response, that was the worship of the Lord of Machines and Arcane Arts, by his myriad subjects.

Amidst the incredulous gazes of all the heroic spirits, magicians, and even the monarchs of the distant Clock Tower, the being they once scorned—an inconspicuous ordinary teaching assistant in the Clock Tower, a perpetually gentle young man, and a disabled "lackey" who rose to power by currying favor with others through low-priced patents—underwent a complete and earth-shattering transformation.

From this moment forward, the Arcane Pioneer Victor will officially announce his arrival to the entire world.

His voice, resonating through the psychic and arcane energy, echoed in every corner of Snowfield City. There was not a trace of arrogance, only an unwavering resolve etched into his very bones and an absolute authority that could not be questioned. Every word he uttered was like setting a new ironclad rule for human civilization: "I am the pioneer of mechanics and arcane magic, I am the guide of human evolution, I am the terminator of suffering in the world, I am Om Messiah, I am the insurmountable mountain for you."

"No more suffering, no more confusion. Under my guidance, humanity will be forever freed from the torment of worldly suffering. I will lead you to salvation. Join—"

He slightly raised his hand, and the miniature mutated core at the top of the scepter shone with a dazzling light that could outshine the sun. His final declaration, like a clarion call of destiny, resounded throughout the heavens and earth: "Glorious evolution."

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