Tonight, Alice joins the hunt.

At this point, the appearances of the two goddesses had almost completely changed. From their figures to their tone of voice, from their expressions to their choice of words, they were infinitely similar to an Eastern woman who did not exist here.

They will soon no longer be who they are.

"Then, let's leave it at that."

"That's fine then."

Then, the two goddesses gently touched hands together.

The next moment, the bright moonlight illuminated the entire Milky Way.

—At the end of the old calendar year, light emerged from beyond the heavens. And the world then entered a new era.

This is a small episode in some unknown monolithic universe.

Chapter Fifteen: The Story and the West Sea Team's Solution

Time flows, and all things evolve...

Alice strolled quietly across the vast, pale earth.

This place was once the Sixth Singularity, Jerusalem in the 13th century. In that era, this land collapsed and twisted due to the will of a goddess who descended to earth—when the Border Tower unfolded and the rules of the world's surface were reshaped, human history almost took a wrong turn, embarking on a predetermined path unwanted by the saints. When this land was corrected through the efforts of a sacrificed individual and returned to historical orthodoxy, the region enveloped by the Border Tower was banished by the world itself, thus escaping the direct gaze of the two saints and the gods.

This is the Border Tower, an area excavated from the real world when the Holy Lance Lundminiad was unleashed. Here lies the goddess, Artoria Pendragon, the Lion King wielding the Holy Lance, who lost control for unknown reasons, and Flora, the Chaldea envoy—some time ago, Iris removed Flora from this land through interference. Now, with this world completely severed from the main timeline, she has descended upon it in person.

Reincarnators have always been able to descend upon the platform of the Dao Struggle. The Central Continent team did not descend because their personal involvement would lead to some unpredictable consequences—in ordinary times, the sages might consider the protection of the main god and thus turn a blind eye to the reincarnators. However, at this crucial juncture that determines the outcome of the battle... at least in the eyes of the sages from the primordial world, nothing is impossible, and no one is immune to being killed.

The time hasn't come yet; it's not time to enter.

But even if you don't enter the game, you can still place a piece.

Alice has already placed a piece, and that piece is named Flora. Flora is able to exert immense power through intervention because this land has been excluded from the main storyline of pan-human history. However, as Flora's story unfolds under her guidance, she actually has another alternative piece here.

The wielder of the Holy Lance, the goddess of the Border Tower, the Lion King, Lundminiad. She is less a knight-king wielding the Holy Lance and more a controller of an empty shell of the Holy Lance itself, named Artoria. In the Sixth Singularity, the Lion King's birth is due to the legend that King Arthur, defeated and killed at the Battle of Camlann, ordered Bedivere, a Knight of the Round Table, to return the Holy Sword he had obtained from the lake to the Lake Nymph. According to the historical text, the moment the sword was returned was also the moment King Arthur fell into eternal sleep.

Events were supposed to unfold this way, but a mishap occurred at the last moment. Bedivere, who was supposed to return the sword to the Lady of the Lake, hesitated just before throwing it down. The final result was that King Arthur, who should have been asleep, was left teetering between life and death because his destiny remained unfulfilled.

The prophecy failed, and the king was immortal. But when Bedivere finally made his decision, he found himself unable to throw the holy sword into the lake—the deranged King Arthur instinctively picked up the holy spear, thus gaining new immortality. For the next fifteen hundred years, knights who failed to fulfill their duties and kings who failed to die wandered unconsciously across this land that had bid farewell to the Age of Gods.

Fifteen hundred years is a long time for mortals, a short-lived species who have not yet embarked on the path of power, enough for any vision or ideal to erode. Only those brave warriors or heroes with precious qualities can maintain their true selves, remaining true to their original aspirations even in the face of the erosion of time.

The knight failed in his duty, but he possessed the potential of a hero. Even after a thousand years, he still remembered his responsibility to return the holy sword to the king.

The queen was a hero from the very beginning, but she fell into a deep slumber prematurely due to severe injuries. And when fifteen hundred years had passed in a flash, what still dominated that body was no longer the queen, but the holy lance that had gradually developed its own will over the long years.

"So, when the Demon King sent the Holy Grail to the Sixth Singularity, the Holy Lance, which had finally gained its own personality after thousands of years, determined that it was time for it to step onto the stage of history. It was unable to defeat the Demon King, so it decided to protect humanity in its own way. The specific method was to select the most elite among the remaining humans and create immortal data to be permanently sealed inside the expanded Border Tower."

Alice walked lightly across the pure white earth, lifting the hem of her skirt, the delicate edge swaying gracefully in this windless, even airless world.

"Unfortunately, this technology is not mature. After all, this pure white land can be called the divine kingdom of the gods in a sense. And those immortal data that are protected would be called 'Holy Spirits' or slightly lesser 'Prayers' in other worldviews—their lives have not died, but have changed their form of existence. However, the mortals in this world simply cannot understand this fact."

"Perhaps they understand, but they just don't want to admit it."

Suddenly, a knight riding a white steed appeared silently beside Alice. She was shrouded in heavy, lion-like white armor and carried a long spear that shimmered with starlight and ribbons of light. When she continued Alice's conversation, she dismounted and rode alongside Alice, trailing slightly behind.

"The last Master of humanity... or rather, the last humans at the end of the timeline rejected my goodwill. That is tantamount to humanity itself rejecting me. Since they have made this choice, I have no choice but to accept their path. After all, I am just an ordinary goddess. If mortals do not need me, I can only leave with my dignity intact." The Lion Knight said calmly, without a trace of dissatisfaction or resentment in his voice. The out-of-control and frenzied state he displayed during the collapse of the Sixth Singularity had completely vanished at this moment. It is unknown what Flora thought after seeing this scene.

Her words revealed her stance, which meant she was unwilling to be used by Alice.

Naturally, Alice wasn't bothered by this at all. The blonde witch simply tilted her head slightly and asked in a perfectly timed tone of doubt.

"What if they chose the wrong path? What if the end of human restoration is not salvation, not reconstruction, not revival, but only eternal silence and death? Then what would you think?"

"That was their own choice," the White Horse Knight said calmly. "Whether it's continuation or destruction, since they have already bid farewell to the gods as humans and to their parents as children, they will naturally bear the consequences of what happens next. If it's a bright future, I will bless them. If it's a tragic end, I will mourn for them. But I will not interfere any further."

"You really are a heartless goddess. If that's the case, then why drag Flora down with you? Can't she represent humanity? Or is it that only Fujimaru Ritsuka can?"

“That was Artoria’s request,” the White Horse Knight replied. “Merlin buried a message for Artoria on that holy sword. When Bedivere returned the sword to me, Artoria awoke and left my body. Before leaving, she did not reject Merlin’s proposal, so I will take it as a yes. And then I will just go along with her wishes and put on a show.”

"Didn't you ever consider that Artoria's soul had been dormant for over a thousand years, and when she finally awoke, she was completely incapable of thinking normally?" Alice continued to ask. "That message was clearly sent to you, wasn't it, Holy Lance Lundminiad?"

This time, the Cavaliers remained silent for a few seconds.

“Even if I am a goddess…” She exhaled softly after a few seconds. “I get angry when I am abandoned by mortals. When I’m angry, I naturally have to vent my anger. Besides, that Miss Flora used her schemes to kill several Knights of the Round Table under Artoria’s command, so it’s not without reason that I’m angry at her.”

“I see.” Alice nodded. “Although you have become a goddess, you are still essentially a weapon. You are only willing to serve your original master—Knight King Artoria. And now that she has become a heroic spirit and is sleeping in the ideal world, you are unwilling to serve anyone.”

The knight remained silent, his tacit agreement quite clear.

"What if I bring back Artoria, and she lets you continue fighting?"

"Then I will continue to fight, God of the Outer Realms." The spirit of the Holy Lance, the white knight Lundminiad, said calmly, "But you cannot find her. If you can enter the Ideal Land, then you will not need to waste your time here with me. And if you cannot enter, then even if you use brute force, you can only destroy me, but you cannot make me submit."

“You really have deep feelings for Artoria.” Alice’s lips curled up. “I originally thought it was strange enough that the Knights of the Round Table only had the King’s Chef and the Twisted King’s Chef. But I didn’t expect that even the weapons of the Knights of the Round Table were King’s Chefs. In terms of personal charm, I would call Artoria the strongest in this world. But I am not without my own bargaining chips.”

She snapped her fingers, and a gazebo and two chairs appeared beside her and the Spirit of the Holy Lance. She then extended her hand in an inviting gesture.

“Would you like to hear a story?” Alice sat down naturally in the chair, holding a cup of coffee. “A story… of another Artoria, one you don’t know.”

........................

The story is actually quite simple; it's merely the less-than-pleasant experiences of another Artoria Pendragon in a parallel universe. In this story, as the illegitimate daughter of King Uther, Artoria, just as legend says, pulled the sword from the stone, defeated the lowly king, unified the British Isles, and formed the Knights of the Round Table to establish her rule. However, as the kingdom declines and Britain descends into chaos due to natural and man-made disasters caused by the decline of the Age of Gods, the story takes a strange turn.

The change originated with a man, a foreign man of unknown origin, speaking frivolously and dressed in strange clothes. His eyes held patterns like flying birds. He appeared just as Britain was ravaged by a plague, and he offered a strange, inexplicable cure. Through this act, he successfully infiltrated King Arthur's court, becoming a squire outside the Round Table.

Artoria disliked this foreign man because his eyes and tone were constantly filled with the arrogance of a superior, as if a god were looking down on an ant. She originally planned to casually assign him a position and send him far away, but before she issued the order, everything in the palace underwent a strange and imperceptible change.

The Knights of the Round Table... have changed.

Just one night later, when the roundtable meeting convened the following day, Artoria sensed something inexplicably amiss. She discovered that the noble Lancelot-Garonne was behaving like a servant, completely subservient to the man. The upright Gawain merely smiled and ignored the man's ramblings at the roundtable. And when she herself was astonished by this change and began to rebuke the man's overstepping boundaries, her brother, the Knight Kai who had always supported her unconditionally, was the first to stand up, frowning and accusing her of blocking open communication!

She didn't understand what was going on, but she guessed that something huge had happened. Instinctively ending the roundtable meeting, she rushed to seek Merlin's help, only to find that Merlin was nowhere to be found. And not only Merlin, but even Morgan and Vivian had vanished without a trace!

She didn't understand what had happened, nor could she find any outside help. When she returned to her palace, filled with trepidation, she found that everything had returned to normal. The only change was that the First Knight had voluntarily abdicated, and the man now sat smugly to her side.

She could sense the strange look in the foreign man's eyes. It was as if he were looking at some kind of merchandise, or perhaps prey. She felt fear, not of what might happen to her, but of the country heading astray. Then, in the following months, her fears became reality.

Artoria discovered that her decrees no longer transcended the royal court. Her courtiers, her knights, and her people still loved her as before, but before that, the will of that man was more important than her commands. She gradually realized she had become a puppet, that her country and her subjects no longer obeyed her commands. Even her bedmate, Guinevere, had undergone some unknowable transformation. When Guinevere disobeyed her orders and left the palace, Artoria clearly saw love for that man in her queen's eyes!

She couldn't understand whether the world or she was at fault. But she decided to correct this distorted reality. However, when she finally made up her mind to banish the man at the roundtable meeting, she was met with a composed face and a sentence that sent chills down her spine.

"Knights of the Round Table, capture Artoria."

The nightmare, which seemed like a cruel joke, had become reality. The Knights of the Round Table who had once pledged allegiance to her attacked without hesitation. There was no wavering, no struggle; it was all done with swift, decisive swiftness, as if it were the most natural course of action. The man looked down at her from his throne like a cat toying with a mouse, because, based on his understanding of her, in this situation, Artoria's most likely choice was to compromise.

After all, this was the kingdom she wanted to protect, the Britain she loved. War with the Knights of the Round Table was destined to bring destruction to this land. And he believed she would make the right decision.

However, Artoria freed the Holy Sword.

Yes, even if she could only break one of the thirteen restraints, she still freed the Holy Sword. She risked accidentally injuring the Knights of the Round Table to drag that man down to hell, and she succeeded.

Her sword destroyed the man, even though several Knights of the Round Table took the bullet for him.

Then, she experienced fear.

The man's disguise vanished, revealing Merlin's face—whether it was he (the transmigrator who possessed him) who became Merlin, or Merlin (absorbing the transmigrator) who became him, was irrelevant. For Artoria Pendragon was experiencing the most profound betrayal of her life.

The man died, but his commands did not cease. As the man was destroyed by Artoria's holy sword, Kay's sword shattered her shoulder armor, Gawain's sword severed her right knee, and Lancelot-Garonne's sword pierced her kidney. Meanwhile, Galahad and Bedivere's swords simultaneously pierced her heart from both ends.

She was going to die, not from a sword wound, nor from the poison Guinevere had put in her breakfast. She was going to die from despair.

When she was consumed by despair, she was drawn to a certain place by some unspeakable force, and became food for two powerful beings.

One of them was a vampire who devoured her flesh and blood. The other was a hermit who took her sword sheath and consumed her soul as food—she did not resist, for her heart had died of despair.

And it was only when those two powerful beings met with misfortune that this story began to be passed down.

..............................

Alice finished her coffee and looked at the white knight before her, who was trembling all over, with every joint of his armor radiating intense light. Her expression was calm, and her tone leisurely.

"The story is over. What do you think?"

The white knight's helmet creaked and groaned as it turned. The eye sockets on the helmet were blood-red.

“You…” It took a great deal of effort to suppress the rage in its voice. “…It’s the ‘misfortune’ at the end of the story, isn’t it?”

“Yes. They’re in my hands.” Alice snapped her fingers, and the captain and vice-captain of the West Sea team, Reinhardt and Julian, who were heavily sealed away, appeared out of thin air at the outside of the pavilion. The moment they appeared, the white knight instinctively tried to grab the Holy Lance, but she forcibly suppressed him with immense willpower.

Because Alice hadn't finished speaking.

"And I also possess the ritual to extract that Artoria's soul and blood from them and recreate her within your body, thus resurrecting her... if you believe that the Artoria from another world is also your Artoria."

"...What do you want me to do?" The Spirit of the Holy Lance regained its composure, a composure filled with determination.

“It’s simple.” Alice reached out and gently stroked the ethereal face beneath the Holy Lance Spirit's mask. “Do what you couldn’t do in the Sixth Singularity. And, for this Artoria…”

"...to vent his hatred and anger toward Merlin and the Knights of the Round Table."

"It's just taking your anger out on someone else; I think you're quite familiar with that."

Section Sixteen: Alice's Three Chips

A few minutes later...

Witnessing the departure of the lancer, Alice casually wiped away the remnants of the West Sea Team's reincarnators from the ground. She sat back down in the pavilion, sipping her coffee as she watched the impending end of this pristine white world.

This world existed because the spirit of the Holy Lance resided here. But when the spirit of the Holy Lance granted her request and descended once more as Lundminiad, this void, now without support, would finally fall into decay and annihilation.

This was within her expectations.

Both Lundminiad's compromise and the collapse of this world were within her expectations—leaving aside the fact that the world disintegrated due to the loss of its foundation. Lundminiad's essence was a weapon, a weapon possessing its own will, but that will was merely an empty shell. When dealing with such a weapon, one only needs to input the correct parameters to easily control it. And a living Artoria, even from another world, was far more valuable to her than the Artoria who had become a Heroic Spirit and served as a Servant.

"The essence of heroic spirits is a record, a natural phenomenon, a record of realms... They are merely copies of the knowledge, memories, and experiences of the living. They possess false will and false memories, thus identifying themselves as resurrected ancient beings. They are not the dead heroes, but replicas constructed from energy and information, using the dead heroes as their blueprint."

Alice held the still slightly warm coffee cup and said softly.

She has evidence because she witnessed the creation of the Servant firsthand. Even without evidence, verifying this conjecture is quite simple—the Servant's appearance and combat prowess after their arrival are completely unrelated to their past life. What a Servant actually looks like depends on how they appear in legends. Whether a Servant is powerful in combat depends on whether their records contain anecdotes of great strength.

Take, for example, Musashibo from Uruk. In reality, he was actually a monk named Hitachibo. In his lifetime, he had no fighting ability whatsoever. It was only because the information about Musashibo and Minamoto no Yoshitsune was passed down through him that his information became confused with Musashibo's. As a result, he was able to become a Servant under the identity of Musashibo and even possess power and skills that a mere monk should not have.

In Alice's understanding, Servants are not human, not even dead. Aside from Artoria, who in the Fate/stay night scenario made a pact with Gaia while still alive, thus participating in the future Holy Grail War, all other Servants who descended were merely imposters constructed from information and energy. Their ideals, their paths, their experiences, their martial arts—all were fabrications.

Perhaps it is for this reason that Servants of the same name but different classes summoned by the same person can be regarded as distinct and independent individuals. Using the Holy Grail, it is even possible to conjure up a Dark Jeanne d'Arc without any past. Because whether orthodox or unorthodox, their essence is actually the same.

Therefore, between the Servant Artoria of this universe and the living Artoria of another world, Lendminard would inevitably choose the latter. Because while the living exist, Servants who aren't even considered dead naturally have no right to be chosen—at least the bunch of useless trash from the West Blue Squad have some use. This offered Alice a slight measure of comfort.

One piece has been made; now it's time to lay out more pieces. Flora and Lundminiad alone are far from enough; she has much more to do.

She downed her coffee in one gulp, and at the same time, the tide of destruction from the pure white world surged to her feet. With a light step, she stepped into the chaotic waves beyond the tide, casually scooping up the remaining pure white and the chaotic tide beyond it into her coffee cup. In a trance, it seemed as if boundless radiance burst forth from the chaos, then abruptly ceased upon touching the edge of the coffee cup, settling and silently transforming into a galaxy.

“I should be a bit stronger than a typical fourth-tier,” Alice said calmly, the galaxy in her cup swaying slightly at her fingertips. She watched as the pure white knight, transformed from Lundminiad, fell towards the location of the Seventh Singularity, following the causal connections. Outside the Seventh Singularity, which was suspended in the void, six parallel Singularities, along with the slightly smaller Chaldea and Singularity F, were piled up haphazardly.

"But that's not enough. I'm not qualified to participate in the highest level of the war. Before I unlock the fourth level of my genetic lock and achieve a spiritual position, if I try to descend in my physical form, I will inevitably become an innocent bystander caught in the crossfire of the war between the two saints."

In her view, Chaldea and the eight singularities exist simultaneously in the void in several different forms. Viewed on the timeline, they resemble stacked sandwiches; viewed on the spatial axis, they look like nine pancakes spread out on a pan. Viewed from a global perspective, they resemble a tangled ball of yarn, each line representing the history marked by a singularity. And no matter how she views them, she knows she can freely choose which point in time or spatial coordinate to appear at and manipulate the worldline—provided she is willing to pay the corresponding price.

The cost is high; it's not that she can't afford it, but paying such a price to gain a temporary advantage is meaningless.