Nobody knows how to be a villain better than me.

Just as Danic was feeling indignant, the young magician Fiore, who was sitting in a wheelchair, slightly raised her hand and softly opened her lips.

“Uncle, I remember last night on the battlefield, the enemy Berserker seemed to call him ‘of the Claudius’ family’? Could this be related to his identity?”

"Yes, I heard it too. It sounded like they said something about 'fascism'?"

Behind the wheelchair, a chestnut-haired boy wearing a white shirt and black pants embroidered with gold leaves and black-rimmed glasses seemed to have thought of something. He looked at Fiore beside him with his blue eyes and then raised his hand to confirm what the wheelchair-bound girl had said.

Although he was over eighteen, he looked surprisingly childlike because of the freckles on the sides of his nose, but his expression was very firm and serious.

Koles Fulvig Yggdrasilia is a member of the Yggdrasil family, as well as Fiore's younger brother and the Master of the Servant Frankenstein.

"Although the heroic spirits were infused with modern knowledge, they still retained their past experiences and habits. I remember the word 'fascism' originated in ancient Rome, originally meaning 'consul' or 'the authority of the consul.' During the Republic, consuls were often chosen from the six major clans of ancient Rome, and the Claudius clan seems to have been one of those clans..."

At this moment, Serenique, an adult woman with gray hair and green eyes, standing beside him with a loose ponytail, pondered for a moment, searching through relevant memories, and muttered to herself with a furrowed brow.

"Claudius's...fascism..."

In an instant, a flash of inspiration struck Serenique, making the erudite female magician seem to realize something. Her expression changed, and she couldn't help but shudder.

"Could he be one of the consuls of the Roman Republic back then? One of the men who suppressed Spartacus's rebellion?"

But Serenique immediately shook her head, rejecting the absurd idea.

"No, impossible! He's lived for over two thousand years? Are you kidding me!"

If I remember correctly, it was Marcus Licinius Crassus who suppressed the Spartacus Rebellion, and he should have no connection with the Claudius family.

Furthermore, Crassus was serving as the Republic's legal officer around this time, a position second only to the consul—this simply doesn't add up!

Faced with the frustrating results from the scholars and research enthusiasts, Serenico's head was buzzing, and she was pulling at her long hair, looking quite depressed.

"Hey, you guys don't actually believe Berserker's nonsense, do you?"

Just as everyone was racking their brains trying to figure it out, in the corner

Astolfo, who was dozing against a pillar, rubbed his sleepy eyes and muttered listlessly.

Yup!

As is well known, the defining characteristics of Bserserkers are a lack of rationality and self-delusion; their words are often unreliable.

I was so stupid to have been so hung up on the words of a madman for so long!

Startled awake by her words, Serenique felt quite annoyed and depressed.

"So how could he possibly be a Roman consul?"

Hearing Astolfo's confident conclusion, the crowd, gradually convinced, nodded subconsciously.

However, before anyone could react, a bright light suddenly flashed in the eyes of this one of Charlemagne's twelve warriors, filled with longing, and he raised his arms and announced loudly.

"He is clearly our Frankish Emperor!"

Eh?

For a moment, the entire arena fell silent. Everyone stared blankly, bewildered, at the pink-haired knight who had inexplicably become lively after waking up.

"That scent, that feeling, and the aura of the Holy Sword Juvayus on him... there's no mistake! He is His Majesty, His Majesty in his youth!"

Astolfo became more and more excited as he spoke, his purple eyes sparkling like little stars.

"So, that's your excuse for slacking off on the battlefield?"

"He's His Majesty! If we make a move and anger him, I'll definitely get beaten up! And Roland, Bradamante, and their gang—when they come out, I might get beaten up a second time..."

"boom!"

Just as the Twelve Charlemagne warriors were grumbling incessantly, an unbearable fist slammed heavily onto Alstoff's head.

"Sorry, Rider is talking nonsense again. I'll give her a good talking to later!"

Serena, as the Master, bowed slightly with a cold face to apologize, and then dragged her Servant into the dark room without saying a word.

"No! I don't want to go to that place! I'm telling the truth! You have to believe me! Believe me!"

Dragged along, Astolfo clung to the doorframe, making solemn promises and pleading for help from his colleagues, like an innocent kitten about to be humiliated by its owner.

However, everyone ignored this and let the Charlemagne warrior be dragged away.

As is well known, according to the account in "Orlando Madness", Astolfo rode an eagle to the moon to explore in order to restore the rationality of his friend Roland, which was lost due to heartbreak. He then successfully restored Roland's and his own rationality and returned in triumph.

But after a while, Astolfo, who loved adventure and acted impulsively, lost his rationality once again.

Therefore, the words of this intermittently ill Charlemagne warrior are equally unreliable.

Of course, no one on the field noticed that as Serene was taking her servant into the dark room for inspection, a hint of madness flickered deep in her green eyes, like a mother snake that had caught a delicious white mouse.

Soon, the faint sound of whips could be heard coming from inside the house.

As the clamor and shouting faded into the distance, the arena fell silent once more.

A consul of ancient Rome, an emperor of the Franks, an old acquaintance of Joan of Arc...

Which one is true?

Or is it all fake?

The people present looked at each other in silence, standing there blankly, somewhat bewildered.

However, the explorers clearly overlooked one point:

Is it possible that all three answers are true?

Chapter 53 Too Many Disguise to Fit All (4k)

What many people don't know is that during the Age of Gods, with the arrival of Romulus, the progenitor of the gods, ancient Rome rapidly entered the imperial era, allying with Greece to the south and confronting Persia to the north. The former title of "Consul" was subsequently replaced by the title of "Emperor."

The emperors who guarded the Pantheon and resided in the Seven Hills were all selected from these six divine blood families.

Samael, who succeeded Romulus as the patriarch of the gods and was also the tutor of the emperor of the Claudius family, could not be considered an exaggeration to call him "Consul" according to Spartacus's understanding.

On the other hand, legend has it that Charlemagne, the founder of the Franks, encountered the remains of the white giant in the Alps when he was young. After that, his personality changed drastically, and he became ruthless and domineering, eventually becoming the revered Karl the Great.

The so-called white giant's remains were naturally one of the large-scale remains of the Star Trek Vanguard, a force that mortals could not withstand.

Therefore, Charlemagne was gradually corrupted as he came into contact with him.

In the Fourth Holy Grail War, the medium through which Justeza summoned Emperor Calth was the [Alien Key] and the remnants of the Wandering Star.

However, limited by the potential of the human body and the complete suppression of the world's rules, shaping Charlemagne into Karl the Great was probably the limit of the power of those remains.

Although he knew that Old Ma had long been destroyed by him, leaving not even ashes, and there was no possibility of resurrection, the scene of Emperor Karl summoning the angelic legion with the help of the Old Testament still gave Samael a bit of PTSD.

So, after killing Emperor Karl, the ancient serpent unceremoniously swallowed the spirit core that had a slight resemblance to its old rival and assimilated it into its own body.

With the holy sword Gouvayus tucked into the warehouse, in a sense, the legitimacy of the Frankish kingdom truly resided in him.

Moreover, Charlemagne also called himself the "Guardian of Rome."

Since we are all of the same lineage and are of the same Roman origin, it is only natural that we would arrive at the same destination through different paths.

Therefore, all of the above are correct answers.

However, these ancient or obscure secrets are difficult for the public to know, thus the identity of a certain snake in disguise becomes shrouded in mystery and difficult to fathom.

At this moment, the discussion continues in the main hall of the Thousand World Tree Castle.

Vlad III, seated on his throne, gazed at the silent figure in the corner who seemed to want to say something but held back, and slightly raised his hand.

"Saber, what do you have to say?"

Siegfried, who was in the corner, frowned and hesitated for a moment when he heard the question. A slight ripple appeared on his usually calm face, and he spoke with some uncertainty.

"He... seems to have Valkyrie's aura about him..."

Valkyrie? The Norse goddess?

Could this be a woman?!

In an instant, everyone looked astonished, and a strong sense of absurdity arose in their hearts.

"Gentlemen, I think Saber means that he is very likely a warrior chosen by the Valkyries and qualified to enter Valhalla..."

Fortunately, Fiore, who had studied mythology extensively, thought for a moment and spoke up to remind everyone, bringing them back to the right track.

With Siegfried nodding slightly, the magicians suddenly realized what was going on.

In Norse mythology, the Valkyries often wear gold or silver helmets decorated with feathers or wing-shaped ornaments, blood-red tight-fitting battle robes, carry glowing spears and shields, ride small and powerful winged horses, gallop across the battlefield, select the souls of the brave and fallen, and lead them to Valhalla to stockpile troops for Ragnarok.

Therefore, he was very likely one of the targets chosen by the Valkyries during the era of rampant military buildup in Northern Europe.

It wasn't the Valkyries who chose him, but rather a whole group of Valkyries who came under his command...

Behind the wheelchair, a certain Greek sage who knew some of the inside story shook his head helplessly at the increasingly distorted speculation, secretly cursing in his heart.

Just as the members of the Thousand World Tree were caught in a dilemma, the church's scribe, Calleber, who arrived late, finally entered the castle and made contact with the Black Faction.

"Your Excellency, it is a great honor to meet you in this era."

The elderly black man, Caleb, dressed in a black religious robe and of imposing stature, bowed slightly to Joan of Arc as a sign of respect.

Then, noticing that something was off about the atmosphere, the priest casually asked what was wrong.

"You mean...that person?!"

Upon hearing Joan of Arc's description, Calleber was startled and taken aback.

"You guys know each other too?"

Immediately, the magicians of the Thousand World Tree were somewhat numb to the priest's abnormal reaction.

Why do I see that person's acquaintances everywhere I go...?

Calleber, who instantly became the center of attention, was slightly sweating and coughed as he answered.

"Ahem, we've met once before."

"You remember it so clearly after only meeting me once?"

The crowd looked on with suspicion, scrutinizing the priest who was clearly hiding something.

"Because of this person, they left a very deep impression..."

Calleber's gaze wavered for a moment, his Adam's apple bobbing unconsciously as he answered with lingering fear.

Joan of Arc looked at the black priest in front of her and asked earnestly.

"Then can you tell me, what impression did he give you?"

"Uh, this..."

Calleber swallowed hard, offering a wry smile that seemed to speak volumes.

The saintess on the steps smiled slightly, her cherry lips parting gently.

“A lying mouth is an abomination to the Lord, but a person who acts truthfully pleases him. —Proverbs 12:22”

"... "

“A false witness will not go unpunished, and a liar will not escape—Proverbs 19:5.”

"..."

"Therefore put away falsehood and speak the truth to your neighbor, for we are all members of one another." Ephesians 4:25

"........."

As her cherry lips moved, continuously proclaiming the Lord's teachings in the priest's ear, the old black man's body stiffened, and large beads of sweat formed on his forehead.

"You shall not bear false witness against your neighbor..."

"Stop, what do you want to ask? I'll tell you, okay?"

Finally, after a series of "faith blessings," Calleber gave in and raised his hands, both amused and exasperated.

Indeed, it was no coincidence that this saintly princess, through her intelligence and keen insight, publicly refuted dozens of learned clergy during the trial in Rouen.

At the very least, his ability to use direct quotes from the Bible to criticize others is top-notch.

Having received a satisfactory reply, Joan of Arc's lips curled up slightly, the curve reflected in the smooth marble seemingly overlapping perfectly with a face from a certain memory.

Immediately realizing she had lost her composure, the saint quickly suppressed her smile, looked intently into the priest's strange eyes, which resembled jewels and bubbles, and spoke softly.

What did you see in him?

The Foam Magic Eye possesses some characteristics of past vision.

Calleber composed himself and answered in a deep voice.