This was Emperor Nero's arrogance—because now she embodied the entirety of Rome's will and existence!
She was as beautiful as ever, her dress flawless, though there was an inexplicable sense of brokenness to her appearance. Yet Nero, Rome's most exquisite jewel and the crown's finest gem, would be enchanting even if she wore nothing but a sackcloth.
But the Eastern Roman Empire had no time to appreciate her beauty. Just by looking at Nero, they felt their very souls split in two…
One side, an untamed beast within, clamored for indulgence, corruption, and darkness.
The other side, bound by reason, held to law, morality, and restraint.
The twisted beauty of sanctity entwined with depravity, of rationality coexisting with decadence—such contradiction would drive anyone mad!
All those who had the misfortune of witnessing the Roman Emperor found themselves caught in a fractured, split reality. Their minds filled with a low, sacred-sounding murmur, one that seemed holy yet was defiled and malevolent.
The Beast of Revelation thrived upon human history's greatest calamities. Though she was born from humanity's most resplendent achievements, her existence would erase every glorious civilization.
For this Beast's authority was that of corruption and judgment—provoking all peoples to degradation and thus condemning humanity in a final judgment.
In other words, lust and violence, corruption and judgment, were parts of humanity… but they were never meant to be its entirety.
Nero stood before Constantinople and announced, "I am Rome! Constantinople, your emperor has returned!"
After the fall of the Western Roman Empire's last great city of Rome, the Eastern Roman Empire's capital also succumbed to Nero's "charm."
Kaelar, too, advanced at his own pace, moving steadily forward. The Savior's final gift coursed through him. Though Jesus hadn't explained its use, Kaelar somehow intuitively understood the nature of this power.
It was the power to defeat the Beast of Revelation completely. Inexplicably, Kaelar could sense its depth and strength.
Yet, without fully wielding this power, it would be impossible to conquer the complete Beast, for Nero had now achieved her full form.
A fully realized Beast would require the combined force of all seven Grand Servants to match. The strike that Kaelar had unleashed to shatter the Roman Empire had merely caused Nero to shed a single drop of blood, which she instantly recovered.
If she hadn't completed her ritual and become the complete Beast, that strike could've taken her head, dealing a fatal blow.
But as things stood, "death" held no meaning for Nero. Decapitating her would be nothing more than an inconvenience.
Only humans, only beings brimming with life, held any concept of "death." But Nero was no longer human, nor even alive. She was Rome itself, the Beast 666, the law of corruption, the Great Judgment…
She was akin to the great flood God had once sent to cleanse the Earth, an abstract catastrophe rather than a living entity.
How could one "kill" a flood?
You could only fend off, repel, or delay a disaster—but never erase it.
"Only a Beast can combat a Beast," Kaelar murmured. "If I can strip away the illusion and awaken my own law, manifesting the authority of a Beast, only then could I challenge Emperor Nero and save Britain."
"But in doing so, I would merely become the one to destroy Britain instead of her."
"That isn't true salvation…"
Kaelar placed a hand on his chest, wondering if even he harbored a destructive beast within him, a madness that could annihilate human history.
He could suppress his beastly instincts now because his human reason prevailed, but if those instincts overcame his reason, he would surely think his current restraint foolish.
With a bitter smile, Kaelar mused, "I thought I was pretty normal… I've probably been avoiding my true nature, deep down, knowing that some of my methods might be twisted."
Yet even if he had the chance to do it all over—even a thousand or ten thousand times—Kaelar would choose the same path.
For he was Kaelar, the one who swore terrifying vows, the one who sought to enlighten this world, all worlds, all of humanity!
He was himself, unyielding, unchanged, incorruptible!
Even if he were to become a catastrophe in human history, even if he were to become a Beast, he would always love humanity—never treating them as mere toys as Nero did.
If he ever chose to destroy humanity, it would be because they were beyond redemption, and he was seeking another way to ensure humanity's survival.
"Nero descended to save Rome, but in the end, she destroyed the Western Roman Empire."
Kaelar sighed. "Nero likely sees herself as the embodiment of the Roman Empire itself, believing that the destruction of Eastern and Western Rome is irrelevant…"
"Since she has this mindset, her boundless beastly nature would naturally follow her will, leading her to utterly destroy both Romes."
Kaelar knew well that if he, too, were to transform into a Beast, there would be no guarantee that he wouldn't destroy Britain or human history.
For his love of humanity, the deeper that love, the stronger the beast within would seek to destroy everything, raising himself above human history.
"It's not time yet. I still have a long way to go before I reach the level of a Beast, but Nero now stands right in front of me…"
"Therefore, only one path remains."
Kaelar touched the mark on his chest, realizing how to use the Savior's seal.
"Lord Kaelar, the King requests your presence in the Great Hall. All of Britain's faerie queens have arrived," a knight informed him, interrupting his thoughts. Kaelar nodded. "Understood."
Since Kaelar had awoken and relayed the news of the Beast of Revelation to Britain, Morgan had gone to Avalon to notify the faerie queens, and Artoria had summoned all of Britain's heroes—the country's highest forces—to discuss their next steps.
Unfortunately, Morgan's influence wasn't enough; most faerie queens in Avalon were uninterested in human affairs. They had grown too accustomed to peace, losing their will to fight.
Ultimately, only the Lady of the Lake, Viviane, heeded Morgan's call, accompanying her to Camelot, the capital of Britain.
Yet all the faerie clan leaders who lived within Britain had come. They were now part of the kingdom, and if it fell to the Beast, they would lose their home.
When Kaelar entered the Great Hall, he found himself the last to arrive. Merlin, Morgan, over a dozen Knights of the Round Table, the faerie clan leaders, and a noblewoman he assumed was Viviane, leader of the Lady of the Lake, were all present.
Artoria addressed him, "Kael, you're here… Now that everyone's assembled, we can discuss our plan to save Britain."
Today, Artoria wasn't dressed as a knight; she wore an elegant gown, her presence as regal as any queen.
If Nero was Rome's gem, Artoria was the crowning emerald of Britain.
Artoria had now reached her full height, no longer the petite figure she once was. She was a commanding presence, though a single stubborn strand of hair stuck out from the crown on her head.
Perhaps it was her rapid transformation that made Kaelar look at her a little longer than usual. He then turned to the others and said, "To some of you, I've mentioned that the Beast of Revelation's true name is Nero, the fifth Emperor of Rome."
"She crucified the Savior once more in Rome, completing the most crucial part of the Final Judgment—the judgment of all the kings and lords of the world."
"I fought against the Beast of Revelation," Kaelar admitted humbly. "I lost that battle. I had no choice but to escape back to Britain."
"…"
His words stirred shock and disbelief. Everyone knew Kaelar's strength; it was beyond question. Yet, here he was, saying he'd been defeated and had to flee to Britain.
Kaelar continued, "This Beast of Revelation is no longer a mere person. She is the embodiment of the Roman Empire—an entity of five million square kilometers at its peak, containing all of Rome's gods, emperors, and citizens."
"With a single strike, she wields the power of Rome in its prime. Her sword carries the brilliance of the ancient Pantheon and the authority of the future Church."
The crowd was dumbstruck. Only Artoria, Morgan, and Viviane maintained their composure. While the power he described sounded overwhelming, Britain still had options to respond.
Kaelar held up a hand to silence the murmurs. "But those aren't the worst of it…"
"The Beast of Revelation's core power lies in Corruption and Judgment!"
Kaelar explained, "She is the Great Whore of Babylon, destined to seduce the rulers of the Earth. Wherever she goes, nations fall to ruin."
"The great red dragon with seven heads and ten crowns will sound the trumpet for the world's end."
At the mention of a red dragon, Kaelar couldn't help glancing at Artoria. Nero and Artoria looked identical—even their cowlicks were the same. Only their eye colors differed, with Artoria's a light blue and Nero's an emerald green.
"The Judgment is directed at all humanity?" Artoria asked, quickly zeroing in on the key point. "On what basis is this Judgment enacted?"
"On sin," Kaelar replied. "The bestial nature within the human heart, its sins, desires, and violent tendencies—these are the foundation of the Judgment. Just by singing, she can bring the threat of apocalypse to this world."
Nero's voice could incite the darkness within people's hearts, awakening sins and vices, making them express their deepest, most forbidden urges. Once these emerged, they would immediately fall victim to Nero's Judgment.
Kaelar drew his blunted sword, The Blade of Peace, a manifestation of all his principles. "Before, my near-sacrificial attack shook her Empire, yet it failed to deal any decisive damage."
He projected his memory with magecraft, showing everyone how he had sworn a Geis to love all humanity, a vow that granted him the power to shatter Rome.
The strike he unleashed was beyond comparison, enough to shatter the spirit of any knight who witnessed it, for none could ever hope to replicate such a blow.
Normally, Geis was a sacred secret, shared with no one—not even family—lest the oath be broken unintentionally and the vow's magic turn on the user.
But Kaelar revealed it without hesitation, both to inspire confidence and to provide crucial information.
Everyone was moved, respecting his purity and selflessness even more deeply.
As the knights immersed themselves in the vision of Kaelar's world-breaking strike, only Artoria and Morgan seemed troubled.
"..."
Upon hearing Kaelar's words, the knights, who had been briefly hopeful, felt that hope vanish… So even if Kaelar could defeat Nero in the end, Britain would still be destroyed, and they would still fall in battle.
Lancelot spoke up, "If that's the case, then we must be prepared to sacrifice our lives, to give everything we have to create an opening for Kaelar."
"It's the only way to minimize our losses!"
This time, Gawain didn't contradict Lancelot. He nodded in agreement. "Lancelot is right. If our sacrifice gives Kaelar a decisive chance, then our deaths won't be in vain!"
He used the word sacrifice, making it clear he didn't expect anyone to survive.
Most of the other Knights of the Round shared his sentiment.
At that moment, Viviane, who had remained silent, finally spoke. "It's not entirely hopeless. The Sword of Promised Victory, Excalibur, is inscribed with thirteen seals…"
"That golden sword's blade holds the Thirteen Restraints of the Round Table…"
Viviane continued, "Under the right conditions, if those seals are released, the sword would unleash unrivaled power, a force destined to prevail."
"Long ago, more than ten thousand years before, the Earth existed in the Age of Gods. That ancient world was immeasurably stronger than the world we know. But even then, a white giant from beyond the heavens swept through, vanquishing the gods—whether Zeus, Odin, or others, they all fell before this white giant from beyond the stars."
She added, "Back then, that white giant's strength was no less than that of the Beast of Revelation… And just as the fate of Earth's civilization hung in the balance, a hero bearing the Star Sword descended from another world. He fully unleashed its power and struck down the white giant!"
"With the Star-Forged Sword of Promised Victory in hand, Her Majesty King Arthur could save the world."
Kaelar and Artoria exchanged a glance, both momentarily silent. The Sword of Promised Victory was broken—its power might have faded with it.
After all, without its seals fully released, the Sword of Promised Victory was an ordinary holy sword, no different from Lancelot's Lake's Light or Gawain's Rotating Holy Sword. Kaelar had broken it without difficulty.
But if the fae could repair the Lake's Light, why couldn't they restore Excalibur?
Who could have foreseen such a turn of events?
In Kaelar's eyes, Excalibur was nothing more than a sword that turned his disciple into a mindless fanatic. No matter how powerful its abilities, Kaelar still valued reason over raw power.
At the time, Kaelar had thought his own strength would be enough to subdue the entire world. Looking at the so-called "world-saving" Star Sword, he hadn't been impressed.
Save the world?
What kind of apocalypse could he not handle himself?
But now, the sword was gone, and the apocalypse had arrived. Yet there were no regrets, and there was no going back on the choice he had made.
Neither Kaelar nor Artoria noticed Morgan's growing unease, her fearful glances darting between Kaelar and Viviane. Merlin, however, who had been silent all along, noticed this shift. Her expression turned amused, as though she were watching an entertaining drama unfold.
Artoria cleared her throat. "Lady Viviane, I'm afraid that path is no longer viable. The Sword of Promised Victory has been broken. We no longer have that star-forged blade."
Viviane looked stunned. "Broken? But that sword was forged by the planet itself. Who could possibly break it?"
Artoria wanted to defend Kaelar, but he had already spoken. "I broke it because the sword was clouding Lily's mind. I had no choice but to destroy it."
"There's no point in looking back on what's already done…"
Kaelar asked, "Lady Viviane, is there any chance of repairing Excalibur?"
It was broken, and there was no undoing it, so Kaelar only wanted to know if the sword could be restored. It didn't even need to be at full power—half of its strength would be enough.
Viviane didn't press for details on the sword's destruction. She shook her head. "Impossible. For one, the original six fae who forged the sword have long since perished…"
"That sword's essence is the planet itself. It was forged within the Inner Sea of Stars by the original six fae, which is why it is called the Star-Forged Sword rather than a mere fae-forged blade."
Vivienne sighed. "For ages, we fae have preserved that sword and tried to replicate it in countless ways. The Lake's Light and the Rotating Holy Sword are only poor imitations of the Sword of Promised Victory."
"I can repair Lancelot's Lake's Light, but Excalibur? That's beyond me."
"No holy sword… So there's no way forward?" Kaelar pressed. "If one Sword of Promised Victory exists, could there not be a second?"
"…" Vivienne pursed her lips, looking at Kaelar. "It's not entirely out of the question. You know, as fae queens, we can see things that others cannot…"
As Kaelar and Vivienne's exchange grew more intense, everyone's attention was drawn to the topic—everyone except Morgan, who looked increasingly distressed. When Vivienne uttered those words, Morgan reached her limit.
"Enough!" Morgan suddenly shouted, her voice ringing out and startling the group. Kaelar turned to see her red-rimmed eyes fixed on Vivienne. "Vivienne, shut up! Don't say another word!"
"I absolutely won't allow it…"
Morgan, visibly shaken, cried out, "Lies! That method is useless!!"
Everyone was taken aback. Morgan, always so poised, was now shouting wildly.
Such a breakdown seemed entirely out of character for Morgan…
Only Merlin, who had remained detached, shook her head. In the end, destiny could not be changed…
"…" Vivienne fell silent, her gaze lingering on Morgan for a long moment before she sighed. "Ah, so that explains it. The famed True King of Legend, the Fae Savior of Britain, so proud… Why would she lower herself to seek help from the idle fae of Avalon?"
"Shut up! Don't say another word!"
Morgan repeated herself, knowing there was nothing she could do. She knew Kaelar all too well—no one could stop him once he'd made up his mind.
She could only watch helplessly as her beloved made the most painful choice.
As expected, Kaelar gave her a calm look, unshaken by her outburst. He turned back to Vivienne and said with deep respect, "Lady, please tell me this method."
"Whether or not I choose to use it, I have to know it, to ensure I leave no regrets."
"Are you certain?" Vivienne shook her head. "This method will cost you dearly—it will bring unimaginable suffering and torment not just to you, but to those who love you."
Kaelar didn't hesitate. "Yes. Even so, I need to know."
Even if it means a terrible price, I will bear it.
Vivienne, moved by his resolve, finally nodded. "Very well, I'll tell you…"
"For millennia, we fae have tirelessly honed our skills in forging holy swords. Our creations have grown stronger and stronger, closer and closer to the power of the Star-Forged Sword."
Vivienne continued, "Through this process, we've come to master the craft of sword-forging. If we're talking about pure skill, I daresay we have surpassed the original six fae…"
Each generation builds upon the foundation of the last, developing from the wisdom of those before. It's the same for all people and all races—history advances in spirals, each generation growing stronger than the last.
"I can't replicate the miracle of the Star-Forged Sword or even repair it because of the materials needed."
Vivienne sighed. "The Star-Forged Sword is a piece of the planet itself, forged in the Inner Sea of Stars. It contains Earth's very will and blessing."
"We are merely parasites upon this planet. How could we ever match the resources and blessings it holds?"
The fae's limit was the creation of weapons like the Lake's Light and the Rotating Holy Sword—already close in strength to the standard form of the Sword of Promised Victory. This alone proved that the fae had reached the level needed to forge a holy sword.
But the Sword of Promised Victory, containing Earth's will and bound by the thirteen seals, held a divine mark that mortals could never hope to recreate.
"So, with materials that could rival the blessings of the Earth, it would be possible to recreate the blade's power?"
Kaelar seized upon Vivienne's meaning. "But where would we find such materials?"
As he said this, Kaelar paused, something dawning on him…
Such materials did exist in Britain.
Jesus Christ, an aspect of the Omniscient Lord, was a deity of the highest order within the Type-Moon universe. Even the smallest fraction of his power was equivalent to the planet's blessing.
The realization struck Artoria, who shared a bond of heart and mind with Kaelar. Enraged, she pointed the holy lance at Vivienne, shouting, "Out! Vivienne, get out!"
"Spreading lies! Nonsense! My kingdom does not welcome you. You are banished from Britain!"
Vivienne offered no defense. She looked at Morgan one last time, then turned and left.
No one had ever seen Artoria in such a state, casting off all decorum to expel an honored guest in such a brash and unceremonious manner.
Regardless of the situation, Artoria always maintained her composure. Even when pronouncing a death sentence, she held herself with the dignity of a king. Never would she utter such words before her court…
Ignoring Vivienne and the holy lance left lying on the floor, Artoria quickly went to Kaelar, cupping his face in her hands. "Kaelar, don't let her deceive you! Vivienne is lying!"
"…" Kaelar's brown eyes met hers, and he asked softly, "Lily, have you forgotten?"
"No one can lie to me, Kaelar."
No one could deceive Kaelar, so he knew Vivienne spoke the truth. The fae's inability to recreate the Star-Forged Sword lay in their materials. What they had could not compare to Earth's blessing, so they could not replicate or repair the miraculous blade.
Therefore, with materials that matched Earth's blessing, the fae—whose skills had now surpassed those of the original six fae—could venture into the Inner Sea of Stars once more and forge a second Star-Forged Sword.
"Kaelar, please, listen to me!" Artoria shook her head desperately, and, for the first time, tears shimmered in her determined eyes. She cried, "There must be another way. There has to be another way!"
"But this is the best way, for I am Britain's final line of defense."
Kaelar smiled gently, wiping a tear from Artoria's cheek. "Maybe I could defeat the Beast. But I can't guarantee that I could protect Britain. This method, though, would ensure I could vanquish her before she destroys Britain, before she annihilates all of humanity."
As someone who had faced Nero himself, Kaelar couldn't deny the overwhelming despair she inspired. Even with the Lord's blessing, Kaelar had no confidence he could prevail alone.
He was searching for a way to defeat the Beast and protect those he loved, a way to save both the world and everything dear to him.
Now, at last, he seemed to have found that answer.
Only, it would require a small sacrifice.
"But I don't accept it! I will never accept it!"
Artoria's small hands tightened around the holy lance, her knuckles white. She pointed at Kaelar's heart with fury in her gaze. "I am the King of Britain, Duke Kaelar of Anjou, and I command you—abandon this foolish idea!"
Kaelar gazed at her warmly, his expression calm and unyielding.
Artoria's vision blurred. A strange, almost absurd thought flickered through her mind…
Wasn't this exactly what Merlin had foretold?
When Merlin had given her the holy lance, he'd also shared the prophecy—a prophecy that Artoria had scoffed at, confident that her knowledge of it would alter fate.
But, as Jesus had once said before ascending, every destiny was permitted by the Lord. Even knowing of His own fate, nailed once more to the cross by the Emperor of Rome, He had accepted it.
The logic was the same. Even if Artoria had known the prophecy, she couldn't change the course of fate.
This was what Merlin's prophecy had meant: the destined clash between the King of Britain and her most trusted sage.
"So that's the truth…"
Having witnessed it all, Merlin finally understood. The visions she'd received were always fractured and bizarre, leaving much to her own interpretation. Yet this time, her assumption had been entirely wrong.
Who said a conflict had to be a betrayal, or that it had to end in hatred?
"So, this was the prophecy… I never expected this," Merlin murmured, a look of shock—and even remorse—crossing her face for the first time. The ever-carefree trickster, so removed from mortal attachments, was showing a side of herself never seen before.
It wasn't that Merlin had no feelings…
But knowing the future had left her detached, unable to feel for fated outcomes.
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OMG IT DIDN'T POST? SORRY I SCHEDULED IT WRONG!