The magnificent city of Ravenna, capital of the Western Roman Empire, was abuzz with activity. Inside the grand palace, a conversation between the emperor and his advisor was taking place.
"Your Majesty, the Holy Church has been quite active lately. We need to exercise caution," Trhvmn Ortenrosse reported to the emperor. "Furthermore, the concentration of True Ether in the atmosphere on the continent has increased again. It appears that someone is up to something. And, if I may add, there have been rumors about Lucius and Valentinian III..."
"Trhvmn," the emperor interrupted, "you may withdraw."
"But Your Majesty," Trhvmn protested, "you need to..."
"Do not worry," the emperor reassured him. "Everything is in place for the foundation of our new world order. I understand your concerns, but this is merely entertainment. Let these vermin scurry around. When the day of destiny arrives, they will all bow down to me."
Trhvmn let out a sigh and slowly left the chamber.
He wanted to convey that not only were humans causing disturbances, but even the True Ancestors were exhibiting unusual behavior. However, the emperor appeared to be disinterested in the matter.
In fact, he had never paid attention to anything else except for the fairy and the Sword of Promised Victory. His power surpassed that of anyone else, and the only thing he feared was this holy sword.
With Altrouge bringing back the Sword of Promised Victory and the emperor destroying it, he no longer had any fear. As the holder of absolute power, he stood above the gods who once ruled the planet, looking down upon all living beings.
To the emperor, perhaps only the planet deserved his attention, while everything else was nothing more than lowly reptiles.
Just as the gods paid no mind to humans, and humans paid no mind to reptiles, the emperor, viewing all living beings from the perspective of the planet, paid no attention to any of the creatures that inhabited it.
Trhvmn Ortenrosse let out yet another sigh, knowing full well that there was nothing he could do to change the emperor's view on the matter.
From the beginning to the end, the Emperor was an enigmatic figure who existed beyond everything.
"What troubles you, Lord Trhvmn?" Altrouge approached him with the grace of a noblewoman, accompanied by a retinue of True Ancestors.
Trhvmn Ortenrosse quickly regained his composure and replied stoically, "Nothing of concern, Your Highness Altrouge."
Turning away, Trhvmn quickly made his exit. From the beginning to the end, he had never been able to get along with Princess Altrouge. She was the Emperor's vessel, a Dead Apostle, and a True Ancestor all at once. Lately, he had sensed a change in her behavior.
Ever since she returned from the island, Altrouge had become exceptionally skilled at winning people's hearts. Even some of the True Ancestors and Dead Apostles were starting to flock to her side.
Altrouge watched Trhvmn's retreating back, her eyes narrowing ever so slightly.
"Your Highness, would it not be wise to try and win over Trhvmn, the Emperor's first follower?" one of her True Ancestors suggested in a hushed tone.
But Altrouge merely smiled and turned away. "Leave him to his fate," she replied, as she continued on her way.
...
Inside the magnificent palace, the Roman Emperor Valentinian III sat uneasily on his throne.
Kneeling before him was Lucius, known as the Emperor's sword, who gave a knightly salute.
"Lucius," Valentinian III began anxiously, "what should I do? As long as Crimson Moon remains in power, I cannot take the stage and regain control of the situation. Over a century ago, he assassinated Theodosius I and attempted to take over the empire, causing it to split into East and West. Crimson Moon took control of the Western Empire, turning it into his puppet, causing the once-glorious empire to crumble... And now, those priests have all fled to the Eastern Empire. Do you think that Crimson Moon will soon make an attempt on my life?"
Lucius remained silent, keeping his head down.
"I can't help but envy the people in the Eastern Empire who still live in peace," Valentinian III sighed heavily.
"Your Majesty," Lucius interjected, "the Eastern Empire is not without its own struggles. Attila and her army are causing great turmoil there as well."
"But at least they're fighting against humans! We're up against non-human creatures!" Valentinian III exclaimed in frustration.
"Your Majesty, there is hope," Lucius reassured him. "It is said that the Pope has found clues to the Holy Grail based on the teachings of Peter and Paul. If we can obtain the Holy Grail, we may be able to defeat Crimson Moon once and for all."
"The Holy Grail? Is it really that useful?" Valentinian III pondered. "In the end, it's all Nero's fault. He should have taken possession of God's treasure, even if it meant killing Peter, Paul, and other believers. Instead, he publicly executed them and burned any books containing clues to ashes. He deserved to be forced to commit suicide in the end!"
Lucius kept his head down, not daring to comment on the Emperor's words.
"When do you think Crimson Moon will leave, Lucius? And when will I be able to retake control of the Western Empire?"
"Have faith, Your Majesty," Lucius replied calmly.
Valentinian III let out a weary sigh. "You may leave, Lucius. I need some rest."
"As you wish, Your Majesty," Lucius acknowledged, rising to his feet and taking his leave.
As Lucius turned to leave, Valentinian III called out to him.
"Lucius, thank you for standing by my side. I appreciate your loyalty, my friend."
"I am your knight and your sword, Your Majesty," Lucius replied, bowing his head respectfully before continuing on his way out of the chamber.
...
Inside the palace of Camelot, a familiar voice called out to Artoria.
"Artie! Artie!"
Shaking herself out of her reverie, Artoria apologized to Shirou, who looked at her with concern. "I'm sorry, my King. I was lost in thought."
"Is there something troubling you?"
Ever since their encounter with Attila, Artoria had found herself lost in thought on multiple occasions.
"If there's anything that's weighing on your mind, don't hesitate to tell me," Shirou said kindly. "I'm not just your king, I'm also your friend. I have some free time now, so I can listen to your trouble."
After a moment's hesitation, she spoke up. "I can't shake off the feeling that the Hun king is extremely dangerous."
"Is that all?" he asked, a hint of concern in his voice.
She nodded.
Shirou chuckled softly. "It's only natural to view the Hun king as a threat. But rest assured, we won't have any further dealings with her in the future. So there's no need to worry about her."
Artoria hesitated for a moment before nodding in agreement. However, deep down, she couldn't shake the feeling of fear that overcame her whenever she faced Attila. It was as if she was staring death in the face.
She had consulted many people about this sense of dread, including Gawain, Lancelot, and even Merlin himself. But all they could offer her was the reassurance that Attila was a formidable opponent. As the possessor of the Sword of Promised Victory, however, she sensed a much more ominous feeling that filled her with a sense of impending doom.
It was a sensation that was all too real and unnerving, even more so than the fate of destruction that Merlin had once foretold or when she found herself battling the beasts and facing off against Vortigern.
For Artoria, fear had always been a foreign emotion. But whenever she found herself facing the Hun King, an overwhelming sense of dread would wash over her. However, upon careful reflection, she realized that Shirou was right.
Camelot and the Hun were separated by vast expanses of land, with few opportunities for their paths to cross beyond the Roman Empire. Furthermore, as a King herself, Attila's true rival was another ruler, whereas Artoria had already relinquished her desire for the throne. There should be no reason for her to encounter the Hun King again.
As Artoria lowered her head in contemplation, Shirou studied her with a concerned expression. Nearby, Morgan and Guinevere were studying together, with Morgan glancing over at Shirou and then at Artoria, feeling somewhat uneasy.
Despite being next in line for the throne, Morgan couldn't help but feel overlooked by the King. Was it possible that her sister had not given up her ambitions for the throne? And why had her demeanor changed so suddenly?
Morgan narrowed her eyes, her mind swirling with questions and suspicions.
As Shirou dismissed the others, Artoria bid him farewell and offered a word of advice before making her exit. "My king, please take care of yourself,"
Morgan and Guinevere said their goodbyes and hurried to catch up with her.
"Is there something troubling you, sister?" Artoria asked, sensing Morgan's unease.
Morgan's straightforward and strong-willed personality left little room for hidden motives. "Are you truly my sister?" she asked bluntly.
"Of course, I am your sister," she replied without hesitation.
"I don't believe you've been acting like one," Morgan retorted.
Artoria sighed. "I am your sister, but I have only recently come to terms with who I truly am," she explained. "What about you, sister? Have you accepted who you are?"
Morgan was caught off guard by the question. "What do you mean?"
"Find Arcueid. Her eyes can help you discover your true self," she advised, before bidding her farewell. "I must be going now, sister."
Morgan watched Artoria depart, her mind still preoccupied with her sister's words.
"Accept who I am..." she murmured to herself, lost in thought.
As she wandered the streets, she happened upon Arcueid playing a game of hide-and-seek with some children, a look of joy on her face.
"Arcueid!" Morgan called out to her.
Arcueid turned towards her with a bright smile. "Hey there, Morgan! What brings you here?"
Unlike Shirou, who had to study the language, Arcueid had been born in the Middle Ages and was already fluent in Old British, making it easy for her to communicate with everyone.
"I remember you have Mystic Eyes capable of changing people's hearts, right?" Morgan asked.
Arcueid looked puzzled. "Yes, I do. Why do you ask?"
Morgan pointed to herself. "Use your Mystic Eyes on me."
Arcueid's face suddenly froze, and she quickly shook her head. "No, no, no... I don't have Mystic Eyes... no!"
"Stop talking and use your Mystic Eyes on me!" Morgan persisted, growing more insistent.
"I don't want to!" Arcueid protested, starting to back away.
Morgan began to chase after her. "Use your Mystic Eyes on me!"
"Why is everyone after my eyes?" Arcueid exclaimed, clearly uncomfortable with the idea. "My eyes weren't meant to be used like this!"
The magnificent city of Ravenna, capital of the Western Roman Empire, was abuzz with activity. Inside the grand palace, a conversation between the emperor and his advisor was taking place.
"Your Majesty, the Holy Church has been quite active lately. We need to exercise caution," Trhvmn Ortenrosse reported to the emperor. "Furthermore, the concentration of True Ether in the atmosphere on the continent has increased again. It appears that someone is up to something. And, if I may add, there have been rumors about Lucius and Valentinian III..."
"Trhvmn," the emperor interrupted, "you may withdraw."
"But Your Majesty," Trhvmn protested, "you need to..."
"Do not worry," the emperor reassured him. "Everything is in place for the foundation of our new world order. I understand your concerns, but this is merely entertainment. Let these vermin scurry around. When the day of destiny arrives, they will all bow down to me."
Trhvmn let out a sigh and slowly left the chamber.
He wanted to convey that not only were humans causing disturbances, but even the True Ancestors were exhibiting unusual behavior. However, the emperor appeared to be disinterested in the matter.
In fact, he had never paid attention to anything else except for the fairy and the Sword of Promised Victory. His power surpassed that of anyone else, and the only thing he feared was this holy sword.
With Altrouge bringing back the Sword of Promised Victory and the emperor destroying it, he no longer had any fear. As the holder of absolute power, he stood above the gods who once ruled the planet, looking down upon all living beings.
To the emperor, perhaps only the planet deserved his attention, while everything else was nothing more than lowly reptiles.
Just as the gods paid no mind to humans, and humans paid no mind to reptiles, the emperor, viewing all living beings from the perspective of the planet, paid no attention to any of the creatures that inhabited it.
Trhvmn Ortenrosse let out yet another sigh, knowing full well that there was nothing he could do to change the emperor's view on the matter.
From the beginning to the end, the Emperor was an enigmatic figure who existed beyond everything.
"What troubles you, Lord Trhvmn?" Altrouge approached him with the grace of a noblewoman, accompanied by a retinue of True Ancestors.
Trhvmn Ortenrosse quickly regained his composure and replied stoically, "Nothing of concern, Your Highness Altrouge."
Turning away, Trhvmn quickly made his exit. From the beginning to the end, he had never been able to get along with Princess Altrouge. She was the Emperor's vessel, a Dead Apostle, and a True Ancestor all at once. Lately, he had sensed a change in her behavior.
Ever since she returned from the island, Altrouge had become exceptionally skilled at winning people's hearts. Even some of the True Ancestors and Dead Apostles were starting to flock to her side.
Altrouge watched Trhvmn's retreating back, her eyes narrowing ever so slightly.
"Your Highness, would it not be wise to try and win over Trhvmn, the Emperor's first follower?" one of her True Ancestors suggested in a hushed tone.
But Altrouge merely smiled and turned away. "Leave him to his fate," she replied, as she continued on her way.
...
Inside the magnificent palace, the Roman Emperor Valentinian III sat uneasily on his throne.
Kneeling before him was Lucius, known as the Emperor's sword, who gave a knightly salute.
"Lucius," Valentinian III began anxiously, "what should I do? As long as Crimson Moon remains in power, I cannot take the stage and regain control of the situation. Over a century ago, he assassinated Theodosius I and attempted to take over the empire, causing it to split into East and West. Crimson Moon took control of the Western Empire, turning it into his puppet, causing the once-glorious empire to crumble... And now, those priests have all fled to the Eastern Empire. Do you think that Crimson Moon will soon make an attempt on my life?"
Lucius remained silent, keeping his head down.
"I can't help but envy the people in the Eastern Empire who still live in peace," Valentinian III sighed heavily.
"Your Majesty," Lucius interjected, "the Eastern Empire is not without its own struggles. Attila and her army are causing great turmoil there as well."
"But at least they're fighting against humans! We're up against non-human creatures!" Valentinian III exclaimed in frustration.
"Your Majesty, there is hope," Lucius reassured him. "It is said that the Pope has found clues to the Holy Grail based on the teachings of Peter and Paul. If we can obtain the Holy Grail, we may be able to defeat Crimson Moon once and for all."
"The Holy Grail? Is it really that useful?" Valentinian III pondered. "In the end, it's all Nero's fault. He should have taken possession of God's treasure, even if it meant killing Peter, Paul, and other believers. Instead, he publicly executed them and burned any books containing clues to ashes. He deserved to be forced to commit suicide in the end!"
Lucius kept his head down, not daring to comment on the Emperor's words.
"When do you think Crimson Moon will leave, Lucius? And when will I be able to retake control of the Western Empire?"
"Have faith, Your Majesty," Lucius replied calmly.
Valentinian III let out a weary sigh. "You may leave, Lucius. I need some rest."
"As you wish, Your Majesty," Lucius acknowledged, rising to his feet and taking his leave.
As Lucius turned to leave, Valentinian III called out to him.
"Lucius, thank you for standing by my side. I appreciate your loyalty, my friend."
"I am your knight and your sword, Your Majesty," Lucius replied, bowing his head respectfully before continuing on his way out of the chamber.
...
Inside the palace of Camelot, a familiar voice called out to Artoria.
"Artie! Artie!"
Shaking herself out of her reverie, Artoria apologized to Shirou, who looked at her with concern. "I'm sorry, my King. I was lost in thought."
"Is there something troubling you?"
Ever since their encounter with Attila, Artoria had found herself lost in thought on multiple occasions.
"If there's anything that's weighing on your mind, don't hesitate to tell me," Shirou said kindly. "I'm not just your king, I'm also your friend. I have some free time now, so I can listen to your trouble."
After a moment's hesitation, she spoke up. "I can't shake off the feeling that the Hun king is extremely dangerous."
"Is that all?" he asked, a hint of concern in his voice.
She nodded.
Shirou chuckled softly. "It's only natural to view the Hun king as a threat. But rest assured, we won't have any further dealings with her in the future. So there's no need to worry about her."
Artoria hesitated for a moment before nodding in agreement. However, deep down, she couldn't shake the feeling of fear that overcame her whenever she faced Attila. It was as if she was staring death in the face.
She had consulted many people about this sense of dread, including Gawain, Lancelot, and even Merlin himself. But all they could offer her was the reassurance that Attila was a formidable opponent. As the possessor of the Sword of Promised Victory, however, she sensed a much more ominous feeling that filled her with a sense of impending doom.
It was a sensation that was all too real and unnerving, even more so than the fate of destruction that Merlin had once foretold or when she found herself battling the beasts and facing off against Vortigern.
For Artoria, fear had always been a foreign emotion. But whenever she found herself facing the Hun King, an overwhelming sense of dread would wash over her. However, upon careful reflection, she realized that Shirou was right.
Camelot and the Hun were separated by vast expanses of land, with few opportunities for their paths to cross beyond the Roman Empire. Furthermore, as a King herself, Attila's true rival was another ruler, whereas Artoria had already relinquished her desire for the throne. There should be no reason for her to encounter the Hun King again.
As Artoria lowered her head in contemplation, Shirou studied her with a concerned expression. Nearby, Morgan and Guinevere were studying together, with Morgan glancing over at Shirou and then at Artoria, feeling somewhat uneasy.
Despite being next in line for the throne, Morgan couldn't help but feel overlooked by the King. Was it possible that her sister had not given up her ambitions for the throne? And why had her demeanor changed so suddenly?
Morgan narrowed her eyes, her mind swirling with questions and suspicions.
As Shirou dismissed the others, Artoria bid him farewell and offered a word of advice before making her exit. "My king, please take care of yourself,"
Morgan and Guinevere said their goodbyes and hurried to catch up with her.
"Is there something troubling you, sister?" Artoria asked, sensing Morgan's unease.
Morgan's straightforward and strong-willed personality left little room for hidden motives. "Are you truly my sister?" she asked bluntly.
"Of course, I am your sister," she replied without hesitation.
"I don't believe you've been acting like one," Morgan retorted.
Artoria sighed. "I am your sister, but I have only recently come to terms with who I truly am," she explained. "What about you, sister? Have you accepted who you are?"
Morgan was caught off guard by the question. "What do you mean?"
"Find Arcueid. Her eyes can help you discover your true self," she advised, before bidding her farewell. "I must be going now, sister."
Morgan watched Artoria depart, her mind still preoccupied with her sister's words.
"Accept who I am..." she murmured to herself, lost in thought.
As she wandered the streets, she happened upon Arcueid playing a game of hide-and-seek with some children, a look of joy on her face.
"Arcueid!" Morgan called out to her.
Arcueid turned towards her with a bright smile. "Hey there, Morgan! What brings you here?"
Unlike Shirou, who had to study the language, Arcueid had been born in the Middle Ages and was already fluent in Old British, making it easy for her to communicate with everyone.
"I remember you have Mystic Eyes capable of changing people's hearts, right?" Morgan asked.
Arcueid looked puzzled. "Yes, I do. Why do you ask?"
Morgan pointed to herself. "Use your Mystic Eyes on me."
Arcueid's face suddenly froze, and she quickly shook her head. "No, no, no... I don't have Mystic Eyes... no!"
"Stop talking and use your Mystic Eyes on me!" Morgan persisted, growing more insistent.
"I don't want to!" Arcueid protested, starting to back away.
Morgan began to chase after her. "Use your Mystic Eyes on me!"
"Why is everyone after my eyes?" Arcueid exclaimed, clearly uncomfortable with the idea. "My eyes weren't meant to be used like this!"
