Xingyue, is Xiaokai also considered Kai?

"Well, to be honest."

Charlemagne scratched his head and asked hesitantly, "How many people live in my brother-in-law's apartment?"

When Charlemagne heard Kyoko mention the apartment where Kurohime and Novia were staying, he couldn't help but worry about what would happen to his sister Attila. Although he knew Novia's character, he still couldn't help but fear that other women might bully his sister, who knew nothing about the world.

In his memory, Attila only came to Novia's side after the Holy Grail War in the Snowfield ended.

In other words... did that Black Princess occupy the position of wife that should have belonged to her sister for thousands of years? After all, she was a Dead Apostle.

"Um……"

The fanatical believer wants to stop talking.

Besides Altruistic, she also remembered a petite silver-haired dragon girl who loved wearing blue, a purple-haired woman with an inorganic aura, and a red-haired girl who was at odds with the silver-haired dragon girl. Of course, besides her Master Altruistic, the one who left the deepest impression on her was the blonde girl.

Kyoko felt a similar sense of dejection to the unknown girl, much like she had felt when she first learned she hadn't succeeded Hassan. However, compared to her own fleeting moment of despair, the blonde girl's dejection seemed to have lasted much longer.

Now that I think about it, the silver-haired dragon girl seemed to have called her landlady.

"I'm very sorry, but this is a private matter for adults, and I cannot speak about it casually. Please understand."

Although Kyoko said that, Charlemagne's expression seemed completely unable to accept it, and just as Charlemagne was about to say something—

"Boss! Boss—"

The sound came from the mountaintop.

Upon hearing this, Hassan, who had been listening for a long time, spoke up: "Oh? That voice belongs to the lookout on the mountaintop... Looks like they've discovered something..."

"Curse Wrist Leader, something's wrong! Smoke signals are rising ahead!"

"what?!"

Cursed Wrist stood up instantly, somewhat at a loss.

The beacon fire was originally set up to defend against invasion, but this is the first time it has been used in so long.

In fact, most of the Hassans here were summoned by Cursed Arm. It's just that the Shocking Hassan and the Shadow-Peeling Hassan failed to survive the land that Jerusalem was eroding. And not all eighteen Hassans have manifested. Therefore, Cursed Arm was quite happy when he learned that Mad Faithful Son knew the special skills of the eighteen Hassans.

"This is the first time..."

Even Charlemagne murmured to himself, after all, his mobile capital was still there, so he couldn't help but worry whether it would be invaded like the current mountain village.

Charlemagne, quickly regaining his senses, reached the mountaintop and began to observe the unusual sights in the distance—

The flames, devoid of any scientific basis, rushed rapidly through the valley.

The raging fire formed walls, creating boundaries and turning the valley into a hunting ground.

Within that fire, each flame was a sword—the sword of Excalibur, a gift from the Lady of the Lake in Arthurian legend. If Ash, whom Novia had taught, were to see it, he would surely mistakenly believe that his sacred sword factory had been secretly copied.

However, it is not the real Star Sword, but a mysterious artifact that does not achieve the same concept.

"This is……"

The flames, devoid of any scientific basis, rushed rapidly through the valley.

The raging fire formed walls, creating boundaries and turning the valley into a hunting ground, like a giant lion striding in as if to tear everything apart.

Charlemagne, somewhat surprised, threw the fantasy holy sword, Juvayus, into the sea of ​​fire. The flames directly shook the foundation of the fantasy, and the flames, which ignored the laws of physics, had the power to instantly evaporate a mountain. In addition to the physical body, the flames were even enough to burn Charlemagne, who was just watching it, to ashes from the depths of his soul.

Therefore, Charlemagne sighed deeply.

Because this is the fire of purgatory, and in his memory, only one person in this singularity could wield such power—

It is not Saber, nor Alter, nor Alterego, but Rider belonging to the king's side, a wandering king appearing in a non-human form, not a knight appearing but prioritizing the duties of a king, Richard the Lionheart who was previously lost in the 'cradle of Jerusalem'.

Charlemagne glanced at the Hassans on his side, and looking at the surging momentum that could be clearly seen from the distant valley, enough to make one's eyes numb, his expression became somewhat serious.

If only I could summon my subordinates like Richard did...

However, he seems to be unable to use it now. As for Altosford, Roland, and Bradamante, well, only Ruggiero is somewhat reliable.

Charlemagne's lips twitched slightly as he thought about the unreliable behavior of his men.

Since things have come to this, let's just let it go.

Right now, my side consists of a group of Hassans who are incapable of close combat and can only rely on assassination.

On the other side——

“I have always felt it and listened carefully, whether it is the feeling of the wind or the sound of the sea.”

The black lion-shaped figure leading the way quietly closed its eyes and moved forward silently, advancing across the land that had burned away the flames of purgatory.

He reflexively tried to stop, but felt dizzy the moment he moved.

Clang! It felt like my head was being tightly strangled, followed by a chill and a sharp headache, as if a rusty nail had been driven into my soul.

The incomprehensible sounds surrounding his ears swirled in his mind, and that astonishing heat was so intense that it was unbelievably stuffed into the lion-shaped body.

“Thunder, rain, water, and purgatory—these are the loving voices of the Lord… but everything has changed. Lord, please continue to burn my body and my soul.”

The voice was calm yet full of fighting spirit, containing the power to exert psychological pressure on the opponent, while simultaneously grinning like a lion showing its teeth.

An unparalleled ferocity and arrogance.

As Charlemagne had predicted, this was none other than Richard the Lionheart.

Leading the procession was Richard I with the lion's head, accompanied by the strongest purple-haired swordsman of the Round Table, a silver-haired knight wielding the Spear of Longinus, a blonde girl brandishing a crimson magic sword, a red-haired man with slightly narrowed eyes, a knight whose face was concealed by a helmet, and many other great knights.

A king and five knights of the Circumference, blessed by an unknown force, are about to invade the Valley of the Mountains at the command of the cradle of Jerusalem.

Chapter 456: To Make Love Last a Hundred Years

"Strange, why does this infernal fire stop here?"

Richard, in his lion form, pressed his fingers to his temples, somewhat surprised that the flames from purgatory, which he should have been able to control, had inexplicably stopped.

Originally, according to his plan, as someone who follows the 'god's' command, he would not hesitate to use the flames from purgatory to evaporate this organization called the Mountain Order, even though they had crossed paths when they were alive. If that were the case, then it was even more appropriate to do so.

After all, there is no doubt that God is in Jerusalem, and believers should be like him.

However, their prolonged inaction indicates that they have abandoned God's teachings and need to be dealt with.

Morley's method of corrupting the Servants by using the power of the Black Goat Mother is similar to Emperor Karl's assimilation of the heavenly voice and the superposition of the Lostbelt Orté's summoning of himself. He first makes their spirit and soul submit in a subtle way, but he does not change the values ​​of the corrupted. In addition, he fabricates the history of the Servants themselves to further corrupt them.

For example, Richard now recognizes God as the 'Lord of Procreation'.

Apart from that, his personality was not much different; for example, he was extremely enthusiastic towards the Knights of the Round Table who accompanied him.

"Haha, is that Mordred? He actually did the impossible, ending King Arthur's reign. He deserves respect."

"Oh? Lancelot, well, even one unfaithful person is probably too many."

“Bosivar, you who have inherited Longinus from Lord Lucius are indeed worthy of respect.”

In short, that's the situation.

“It’s really strange, I feel the Holy Lance trembling instinctively.”

Bosivar, standing to the side, seemed to be saying that there was something inexplicable about the mountain people, his expression serious.

Suddenly, Richard recalled the cross and the sensation of being burned by the fires of purgatory, as if the being he believed in was before him. So he gently raised his hand without turning around, and an immense, uncontrollable heat rose from his dark hair.

“Even though I can understand what you’re saying, Percival, I can’t suppress the surge of emotion welling up from my heart.”

The Lionheart King chuckled softly as he spoke these words, then chuckled again and again, and in the next moment, he unleashed the purgatory fire that surrounded his spiritual foundation.

"Hahahaha! That's fantastic! That's probably a fake that dared to challenge our god! There's no greater honor than this! Please allow me to offer my heartfelt thanks! Thank you to all the knights who accompanied me! And to our god..."

With ominous crimson eyes, as if dwelling in a shadow born from darkness, enveloped in gloomy flames, he slowly rose to his feet.

"Give me the chance to challenge the heretical gods! God, witness my fervor in purgatory! Witness my faith!"

Meanwhile, as if in response to the enthusiastic charge of the giant lion, Charlemagne smiled calmly, imagining the immense magic power manifested on the holy sword Juvayus. He had already made arrangements for countermeasures; as king, he should face these guys single-handedly, after all, wasn't that quite cool?

Of course, the Hassans expressed their dissatisfaction, stating that they could also join, but close combat was simply too disadvantageous for them.

"My lords, my love is unparalleled before and after me, second only to that of a god."

Charlemagne, having shed his simple attire made of magic and donned the golden armor of Karl the Great, calmly and seemingly with unparalleled charisma uttered a confident statement.

"Come, witness this! The kingdom destroyed by my sister and brother-in-law—I am the Emperor of the Western Roman Empire!"

Charlemagne was the first emperor of Western Europe to be recognized by the Pope three centuries after the fall of the Western Roman Empire. He was known as the Emperor of the Western Roman Empire and the Emperor of the Romans, and was also hailed as the Father of Europe.

Before everyone present, Charlemagne rose straight up from one end of the mountaintop.

Without hesitation, a straight line like a laser beam.

In just a few steps, they leaped across a distance that would normally take most people several hours to reach.

In response, Richard, the black, beast-like lion, charged forward, his raised upper body nearly twice the height of Charlemagne.

The ferocious, black, shiny lion-shaped claws swung down with the angle and force of a waterfall. Those claws could easily destroy not only magicians equipped with defensive magic, but even the soul cores of Servants. However, Charlemagne did not use the fantasy holy sword, Juvayus, but instead swung his fist to collide with the lion's claws.

Although Richard in his beast form had the advantage in strength, Charlemagne was superior in burst power. Thus, a fierce battle ensued between man and beast. With both feet firmly planted, the man was fighting the beast squarely.

Humans and beasts clashed fiercely dozens, even hundreds of times.

Every conflict unleashes an amazing magic.

That was war, and at the same time, a myth.

"Second only to God? Karl, if that's the case, you should be even more aligned with me."

“I can see that Richard and the other knights are conveying a message in their eyes. It’s not that they are denying the world, but rather that they are distorting the things they can trust.”

Charlemagne responded to Richard in this way.

But Richard, seemingly puzzled, said, “Carl, the God to whom we offer our prayers is in Jerusalem.”

"Oh? What does this mean? Speaking of which, Richard, your power seems... well, I don't know anything about you guys—"

Charlemagne noticed that not only Richard, but also the other Knights of the Round Table around him, all exhibited a subtle and inexplicable change.

"Shut up! Who cares what you and that damned lion have to say!"

Mordred, the knight whose face was concealed by a helmet, unleashed his Noble Phantasm directly at the two combatants in a fit of rage.

The Knights of the Round Table noticed this, but did not stop them; perhaps some kind of 'contamination' had already completely eroded their spirit origins.

Otherwise, the pure and innocent knight, who could not bear to see people suffer, would certainly not have acted this way after obtaining the Spear of Longinus.

In that instant, the surging hatred not only clung to Mordred's sword, but also enveloped her entire body. The intense concept of hatred spread within her body, and in the blink of an eye, it covered the young man's entire body.

When Charlemagne saw that intensely terrifying hatred, he finally understood.

This is not the kind of ability a Knight of the Round Table should have.

Rather, it's the corrupting power of Jerusalem, the cradle of humanity. Judging by this, it seems even the very essence of a spirit-origin existence has been rewritten...

Mordred drew out the unparalleled hatred for the King of Knights and herself that she inherited from the 'fictional memory of Jerusalem,' and the true name of the Noble Phantasm naturally came out of her lips.

"Rebellion against my gorgeous father!"

The atmosphere was scorching, and the blood that stained her red and black as she was activated caused her own shape to become literally grotesquely distorted.

"Sigh, this is really troublesome... It still hurts a bit to get hit. I don't know why the Infernal Flames stopped here, but it's enough for now."

Richard's fierce lion mouth opened wide, revealing sharp teeth, and his normally empty, jet-black claws began to radiate a dazzling light.

This is a Noble Phantasm from which Lionheart, who deeply admired King Arthur, even regarded everything he acquired as a sublimation of the legend of Excalibur. Its actual effect is similar to a combination of Lancelot's "A Knight Never Dies Barehanded" and Artoria's "Excalibur," meaning that he can unleash such a beam of light with anything he has in his hand—weapons, cutlery, or even a twig picked up from the roadside.

“My claws are weapons too, Karl.”

A tricky battle.

When Charlemagne heard Richard, with his lion-like mouth, say these words, he couldn't help but think so.

Because he felt that Richard's murky eyes seemed to be telling Charlemagne, 'You who disobey God shall die.'

Some people live, some people die.

Even if it weren't a battle, this was a scene that was only natural in a chaotic era.

Judging from the current situation, the enemy led by Richard not only has a terrifying aura, but also seems to be corrupted in a way that can erode the memories of the stars.

The countless weakened versions of Excalibur, formed from countless infernal flames, shook the very foundation of the mythical holy sword, Juvayus, outside the valley of the mountain. And this was only Richard's offensive. Moreover, among the knights who had not yet acted, there was even the aura of the Spear of Longinus. It seemed that Charlemagne's side had no chance of victory.

The current situation seems to be like this—

But Charlemagne would not run away from this, because this was the path he had chosen by his own will.

In the past, it was a special thing on the journey. The light from the sky above the Alps was clear and refreshing, and the clear blue sky seemed to be blessing the visiting travelers. The young Charlemagne and his companion Altosford witnessed the sights and sounds that were etched into Charlemagne's life.