Nobody knows how to be a villain better than me.

"Then...what next?"

"And then, let me think..."

Merlin frowned, deep in thought. After a pause, he slapped his forehead, looking somewhat melancholy.

"Oh dear, I'm getting old, I can't remember many things, I need a trigger to recall them..."

Bedivere followed the Great Sage's fleeting gaze to his own wine sac, immediately nodded in understanding, and subtly extended two fingers.

Next time, two pots!

Merlin immediately beamed and, without hesitation, revealed some embarrassing stories about a certain goddess from her childhood.

“I remember now, that’s why Artoria is so close to her warhorse. She always whispers secrets to it, and even during grueling training, she believes that being able to take time to care for the horse is a kind of happy life…”

"Cough cough..."

Kai, standing next to him, was ramrod straight, coughing repeatedly.

"Tsk, don't interrupt. A warhorse is a knight's second life, didn't you say that? She actually believed it again."

Merlin rolled his eyes at his mischievous friend beside him and, without hesitation, mercilessly exposed the origin of His Majesty the Knight King's little habit.

Screw you, Merlin!

Kai's breath hitched, his face turned a purplish-red, and he frantically winked at someone.

Bedivere, who noticed first, twitched his eyelids and quietly retreated, distancing himself from the old nightmare. He had just translated a sentence by comparing Kai's lip movements.

Look behind, look behind!

At that moment, a cold and austere figure appeared behind Merlin, gazing intently at his mentor.

Gradually, Merlin noticed the sudden drop in temperature and the eerie atmosphere around him. He stiffly turned his head, and when his gaze fell on the lion's mane helmet that was gleaming coldly, his cheek twitched violently.

"Drinking alcohol while on duty and making noise outside the area are violations of the rules. The night watch will be extended by another half month!"

The indifferent judgment left Merlin feeling as if he had lost his parents.

Immediately, that intensely imposing gaze turned to Kai, who was standing to the side.

"As for you, you knew the truth but failed to report it, intending to deceive others. You are guilty of the same crime as Merlin. Your guard duty and patrol duties will each be extended by fifteen days."

Kay and Bedivere, caught in the crossfire, glared at the instigator and nodded with resentment.

After watching Bedivere, who had been caught in the crossfire, respectfully leave the courtyard, Merlin and Kay's expressions relaxed, and their gloomy and resentful looks faded. They turned back to look at the tightly closed doors of the palace, their brows furrowed.

After a moment, Kai, who couldn't contain himself any longer, asked anxiously.

Is there still no movement inside?

The figure clad in lion-mane armor slowly shook his head, the atmosphere heavy with unease.

"It's been over a month already. How much longer are we going to wait? I'm almost out of reasons to come up with. If we drag this out for so long, the Knights of the Round Table outside will probably start to suspect that we're here sooner or later."

Merlin frowned and sighed, looking rather helpless.

"It's not just fear, it's already..."

Morgan, clad in silver-white knight's armor, slightly raised his head and murmured softly.

"Just as you were holding off Bedivere, Agravan arrived at the mansion I rented in Camelot..."

Merlin and Kai exchanged glances upon hearing this, their hearts tightening and their eyes turning serious.

Although the palace was equipped with short-range teleportation space magic, allowing Morgan to play different roles both inside and outside the palace.

The fact that they could think of visiting at the same time is enough to prove that, as time went on, Agguwen's suspicions about them only increased.

If this continues, this charade will soon be impossible to continue.

My king…

Old friend…

How are you all doing?

The three looked at each other in silence, a long-suppressed unease welling up inside them.

Chapter 115 Its Name is Ideal Land, Its Name is Avalon! (4.6k)

Meanwhile, the world is dying.

"Ex—calibur!"

Accompanied by a roar calling out the true name of the Noble Phantasm, a beam of golden sword light, compressed to its extreme, stood atop the tower at the very top of the dome in the center of the Holy City. It pierced through the flawless white marble wall, bursting out and drawing a dazzling trajectory like a shooting star in the sky.

"boom!"

The next moment, the intensely burning sword light burst out in mid-air, and the uncontrollable power formed an invincible torrent of ether. With the rapid contraction and distortion of space, a huge mushroom cloud rose into the sky with a deafening roar.

In the blink of an eye, the once glorious and serene holy city resembled a meteorite crashing to earth. The ground sank, and beneath billowing smoke, molten lava flowed rampantly through the streets, causing towering buildings to collapse one after another.

The plants, fountains, and even the guardians that make up this pure land are all dissolved and torn apart in this blinding light, turning into basic spiritual particles.

Meanwhile, the transparent wind wall outside the holy city crumbled under the clash of magic, and a raging sandstorm roared down from the wilderness like angry dragons coiling down, gradually engulfing streets, green fields, squares, and corpses...

As far as the eye could see, all that remained was the pale light and the darkness of death.

At this moment, inside the Tower of the End, the halo still flows, sacred and dazzling.

Looking up, the dome of the silver-white tower, with its inverted starry sky, seems to connect the world to its origins, exuding a sense of solemnity and etherealness.

The invisible pressure forced the worshippers to bow their heads subconsciously.

The floor tiles below are all paved with black and white, creating a strong color contrast, resembling a crisscrossing chessboard.

Those standing among them are like chess pieces caught in the game, humble and insignificant in the temple of God, only able to obey the will of fate with awe.

At the end of the chessboard and the steps, around the lone king atop the tower, the pale blue wind wall that had solidified into a tangible form rippled slightly like water before returning to calm.

The deity, seated on his jade throne, remained silent throughout, gazing down upon everything on earth and observing all events with indifference.

Her surroundings remained spotless, unmoved by any external upheavals.

Everything inside the tower is like an unchanging painting, where the flow of time and the transformation of space are all stagnant, even frozen into eternity.

Wind King Barrier!

Using the divine power bestowed by the storm anchor Rungomminiad, he controls the gales and protects his own authority.

It is precisely because of the existence of this power that the entire Holy City has been able to stand proudly for thousands of years in this gradually dying world, untouched by natural disasters.

However, this maintenance of sublimity and perfection is marred by a glaring flaw due to a gap in the outer wall.

Just now, she still hadn't been able to guard against everything.

The lone king atop the tower glanced sideways at the crack cleaved by the sword light, frowned slightly, and slowly lowered his raised arm. The only hint of emotion he showed was quickly replaced by calm.

But that's all.

Clang!

In the hall where light and shadow intertwined, a holy sword, gleaming with starlight and inscribed with fairy runes, was plunged into the ground. The wielder's body was slightly bent, his armor shattered, and his chest heaving. Yet, like a wedge thrown into a chessboard, it was forcefully embedded in the center line, dividing the space of the hall in two.

Surprisingly, this is all we can do.

Samael gasped for breath, his eyes, which had been cracked like flower petals with cross-shaped patterns, grew increasingly dim, and his swaying body was gradually unable to protect the little girl under his wings.

This world, and this goddess, are more troublesome than he had anticipated.

The ancient serpent sighed helplessly, a bitter taste rising between its lips. It leaned back, somewhat powerless, against a pillar in the courtyard.

However, behind him, the occupied half of the black and white chessboard was fragmented and covered with rough weapon marks, devoid of any "order" or "rules," like a child's random scribbles on a perfect painting.

Now, amidst this chaos, the once magnificent hall, now unrecognizable, is on the verge of collapse.

boom……

As the walls crumbled and peeled away, the desolate scene outside became even clearer to everyone.

The gate was in pieces, with rubble scattered everywhere.

From the jumping tower to the spiral staircase, from the corridor to the hall, broken armor plates and weapons are scattered everywhere, and spears stuck in the cracks of the stone are scattered haphazardly, like a lush forest of steel thorns.

On the spears, knights of the righteous were brutally impaled and hung in rows in mid-air. Their swaying corpses made a soft metallic clanging sound in the gale, like the chiming of wind chimes.

At the most intense moments of the battle, a hundred or so radiant figures, distinct from the other Knights of Justice, also fell beneath the blade.

The lonely king on the jade throne frowned and bowed, the golden-green flames burning in his eyes flickering slightly.

Ever since these two outsiders were inadvertently placed on the chessboard, they have been like rats in the courtyard, gnawing and destroying everything in the courtyard, completely leading the orderly situation towards total collapse.

This man, in particular, actually fought his way from the main gate of the Holy City all the way to the Tower of the End.

Tens of thousands of righteous knights and more than 200 elite members of the Round Table were all wiped out by this man and his sword!

Click...

Amidst the faint sounds, the starlight overhead dimmed, and pieces of the dome peeled away.

The pure white tower at the end, like butter sliced ​​by a giant blade, is half-collapsed, its interior facing the sandstorm from a dying world.

At this moment, amidst the interplay of light and shadow, the proud figure at the end was torn and stretched, becoming blurred and indistinct.

The lonely king atop the tower, like a machine whose program had been broken by an external force, defied the preset instructions and finally slowly rose, walking down the steps one by one. His golden-green eyes looked down at the two of them, and he spoke softly with a furrowed brow.

"All things have been brought under my control, and the world is about to be reborn."

Answer me, why did you come? Why did you tarnish the pure white of this ideal?

Do you know that this is the only salvation for a world that is about to die?

Samael was about to struggle to his feet, but the girl who had been hiding under his wings like a fledgling bird all the way down let go of his arm, picked up her wand, and strode forward.

"Artoria..."

Hearing the worried and anxious calls in her ear, the girl smiled brightly but did not turn around.

Teacher, thank you for your continued support. In the past, you were always the one protecting me when I was useless.

Now, the journey is coming to an end, and it's time for me to go first, to shield you and this world from the storm of extinction.

On the black and white chessboard, the aloof and mature king and the innocent and naive girl approach each other step by step. Although their temperaments are completely different, the meaning behind their gestures is so similar, as if they are two mirror images that have crossed time and space.

"Redemption? Don't be ridiculous!"

Artoria, who appeared weak and utterly intimidating, glanced back at the dying world outside the tower and the sandstorm engulfing the holy city. She gripped her wand tightly, her anger barely contained.

"Tearing the sky apart, shattering the earth, slaughtering lives, plunging your country into ruin, and displacing your people—is this your so-called salvation?"

"The world is withering, and the future cannot support all life. I must make a choice. Without my intervention, the civilization of Britain and the Celtic people will eventually perish along with the world."

The goddess, crowned, calmly explained the reason, her expression unwavering in the face of angry questioning.

"To establish a paradise, to gather pure souls suitable for being preserved for posterity, as seedlings of new life, so that lives that should have ended can continue eternally, and find happiness in the new world, is the best conclusion based on destiny."

"Don't use these high-sounding reasons to cover up your cold-bloodedness! You sit atop the tower all day, doing nothing but these cold calculations. Have you ever heard the cries for help from those outside? Have you ever seen how someone slowly dies of hunger? Have you ever understood the pain of a family torn apart by Saint Basil? Even the souls chosen by Saint Basil are imprisoned in your tower, reduced to your toys! You have no heart at all!"

Artoria's face flushed red as she recalled the horrific scenes she had witnessed on her journey. Her emerald eyes practically spit fire, filled with hatred.

"A king should be someone who protects the people and sacrifices himself for the country! You have tarnished that duty!"

“You are wrong. I have never betrayed my mission. God cannot exist without humanity, and a king is meaningless without his people. I understand this better than you do. Therefore, I love you deeply.”

However, the goddess slowly shook her head, her clear eyes revealing a pure and genuine expression.

"Therefore, in this dying world, I cannot bear to live alone without a country and a people. So I have decided to grant you eternity, so that Britain and the Celts may continue forever. Is that wrong?"

An enraged Artoria met those blue-green eyes and saw the undisguised truth in the depths of the emptiness, and at the end of the world, Britain, unrecognizable and burning in flames, and she was stunned.

Britain will perish in the future...

The queen entrusted with heavy responsibilities by the nation, the goddess upon whom the people placed their hopes, never betrayed her. She only cared about continuing the history of this country and this nation, which should have ended, in her own way.

The goddess's golden-green eyes gazed calmly at the two of them, and she slowly raised her hand to extend an invitation.

"Things that should not exist, things that are incomprehensible..."

Why resist? Why refuse?

I allow you to exist, all you need to do is... lower your heads..."

Yes, if we simply lower our heads and allow her to gather the fragments of civilization and pure souls scattered across the land of Britain, everything will be perfectly resolved.

Artoria looked up at the goddess before her again, as if gazing at her future self in a mirror, her eyes no longer filled with hatred and disgust.