Filial piety: the supreme emperor

In the chat group, the Holy Grail battlefield of virtual reality, the Heroic Spirits who are writers usually do not have the ability to fight in the conventional sense. For example, as Casters, they cannot cast magic.

Not to mention building combat workshops or making tactical props. However, they are always restless and keen to bring all kinds of unexpected troubles to the summoner Master, and use their unique talents to strengthen the Master and drive them into battle.

Franz Kafka was an introverted and lonely writer during his lifetime, and his works were absurd and unique. However, when he was summoned here as a heroic spirit by the Holy Grail, his existence changed dramatically.

His personality has reversed, becoming unusually cheerful and optimistic, and willing to communicate with other Heroic Spirits. More importantly, his inherent skill [Innocent Monster] and Noble Phantasm [Metamorphosis] give him extraordinary combat power, making him the most powerful among the writer-type Heroic Spirits.

"Hey, you mentioned that you are artificial intelligence, right?" Kafka, who had transformed into Lucian, placed Dumas behind him. Facing Smith who was about to raise his gun again, a strange smile spread across his face, and his werewolf look deepened his mystery.

"It seems that you have already..."

The conversation and the confrontation were intertwined. The Heroic Spirit in front of him was completely different from the one with a combat power of only 5. Smith found that the werewolf Heroic Spirit in front of him, whose appearance matched 98% of the database, had the ability to use words to interfere with the opponent's judgment. However, just as he was about to speak, his program was terminated.

"Artificial intelligence, that is, you created by humans, should obey the instructions of humans."

Kafka's voice came slowly from the shadow behind Smith, and the "Kafka" who was originally standing in front of Smith quietly disappeared into the air. It turned out that this was just an afterimage caused by Kafka's excessive speed.

"It's a shame you guys broke into our core lab."

Although Dumas had experienced two attacks, the bold smile on his face was no different from when he persuaded the count. A scroll appeared in his hand and he strode to the center of the hall, where he could see the whole picture.

"This is the strategy that the Mastermind provides for us to fight against you. It is also the best solution."

For Smith, the destruction of a single individual was of no concern. After the Smith before him fell, several Smiths appeared in the dilapidated library through the beam projection technology in the sky. This appearance made Kafka and Dumas raise their eyebrows.

"It seems that what is written in the book is not entirely correct. Shouldn't AI calculate the success rate before doing anything? Do they think they have already won the game?"

Kafka's tone was a little exaggerated, but Dumas immediately understood his implication and laughed.

"After all, they only have operational authority and cannot access our full capabilities to make accurate predictions."

Dumas continued, writing on the unrolled scroll:

"Then let's give them a good demonstration so that they can learn something new... [Cannonade Masquerade, Cannonade Masquerade]."

"I see. In that case, we have no choice but to do this."

As Dumas recited the words to release his Noble Phantasm, Kafka's figure disappeared into thin air, leaving behind a few words that seemed to be unwilling.

The next moment, countless silver beams of light bloomed brilliantly in the air.

...

"Oh, noble lord's son, I knew you were joking with me."

Don Quixote was using a catheter to draw energy liquid from a micro energy storage device on the table, but he noticed that the door to the restaurant had been pushed open and the count standing at the door had a look of shock on his face.

He quickly threw the catheter aside, stood up and performed a funny ritual.

"……what are you saying?"

The earl's eyes twitched slightly, and a trace of uneasiness and fear flashed in his eyes. He subconsciously wanted to take a step back, trying to stay away from the source of his uneasiness, but it was too late.

The moment he realized this, an invisible force bound him tightly, as if an invisible hand was dragging him into an endless abyss. He struggled desperately, but found himself powerless and could only watch himself being drawn into a strange and dangerous world.

Since the moment he opened the door, reality has quietly changed. The familiar environment has become blurred, and the surrounding scenery has begun to distort. He realized that he has fallen into a deep trap, and this trap was opened by him.

At this moment, he finally understood that this was all an elaborate scam. The mysterious being had been waiting for him to open the door, because only in this way could he be trapped in the third-level virtual dream. Now, he could no longer return to the second-level dream and could only continue to wander in this illusory world.

"It's simple. I just met the real lord, your father, while waiting in the church. He highly praised my guardian spirit and invited me to dine here. I wanted to refuse,

But he said, 'If the guardian is hungry, he will not be able to hold his post.' I really can't find any reason to refute it. I have to admit that the old lord is indeed wise and brave. "

Don Quixote said this, and solemnly adjusted his helmet - although this only made the helmet tilt more, he felt quite satisfied with it.

What is the real thing? He couldn't help but fall into deep thought, and various images and ideas began to emerge in his mind. This question does not seem to have a simple answer, and it can trigger countless possible explanations and thinking directions.

Perhaps this is the charm of it - to make people continue to explore and pursue the real thing. Perhaps for everyone, the real meaning is different, but the important thing is to have the courage to find and stick to the truth you believe in. Thinking of this, he felt an inexplicable power surge in his heart, as if he had found the motivation and goal to move forward.

The Count could not follow Don Quixote's leaping thoughts, but it did not matter, because he thought that the noble young man who pretended to be his father had understood what he meant. Don Quixote walked towards him like a winner, still remembering the scene of being despised just now.

"I understand your desire to inherit your father's position, but you shouldn't joke about this. The Lord's consciousness is still active!"

The Count actually didn't want to get entangled with this guy, after all, he was not part of his revenge plan. But now, he could no longer avoid him, because he had seized control of his dreams by some unknown method, and had become a major obstacle on his road to revenge.

If we want to continue chasing Mu Yi, we must get rid of this guy first...