Type-Moon: My Destiny Guide

"Wait...back to the battlefield?" Artoria asked incredulously. "But what we all wanted was for her to be free!"

"When did I say that? Besides, if returning to the Holy Grail War is her own will, isn't that also a kind of freedom of choice?"

"How could she do that!"

"Why not?" Shuoyue retorted. "The longing and gratitude for those who saved him; the guilt and sense of responsibility for his people still suffering while he escaped—aren't these precious qualities the very first impressions you great heroes left on her?"

Because of longing and gratitude, the androids unconsciously look forward to seeing Astolfo again.

Driven by guilt and a sense of responsibility, the androids will voluntarily return to the Black faction to raise the banner of resistance for their suffering kin.

And all of this is precisely why Shuoyue saved her, and it is also the future that Shuoyue hopes for.

Artoria remained silent, speechless. As if oblivious to the Servant's emotions, Sakumo continued, "Right now, with Siegfried, Avisbro, Shakespeare from the Red side, me, Jack the Ripper, and you, the Blue side already has six Servants. But that's clearly not enough to fight against both the Red and Black sides."

It's not just a matter of quantity; Shakespeare and Jack the Ripper also cannot compare to top-tier or even first-class Servants in terms of rank.

"Black Vlad III was doomed to die during the Red invasion. Chiron and Frankenstein did not have any obvious weaknesses, and the Black faction preferred to eliminate them rather than try to win them over. In other words, the Black faction had no more Servants to recruit."

Shuoyue's analysis was incredibly fluent, and even the sulking ahoge couldn't help but listen carefully.

"I'm planning something big for the Red team. If possible, everyone except Amakusa and the Empress will join the Black team. However, there is one exception, since they are outside the Red team's battle lines and even Amakusa can't control them."

Without giving Aiba any time to think about what he would do on the red team, Shuoyue directly stated the name of that group: "Red Mordred, at this stage, she is the most likely person to join our blue team."

Is she popular? Yes, considering her strength and the closeness of our alliance, she is indeed the most suitable member for us... Wait, something seems off...

When the girl with the ahoge finally realized what was happening and widened her beautiful eyes, a fleeting look of panic and evasion flashed across her blue eyes:

"Wait, Shuoyueqing? What are you talking about? That's Mordred, you know, that annoying knight!"

King Arthur, whose inner conflict had been resolved but whose resentment remained, protested loudly: "Even if I didn't care, she would still draw her sword and strike me the moment she saw me!"

"Aren't you father and son (mother and daughter)? If you have any conflicts, just have a fight, right?"

"A fight?" the ahoge asked sullenly. "Shuoyueqing, do you want us to wipe Romania off the world map? Besides, doing so would definitely expose our real names, you know?"

"Didn't the original body receive the memories of the Chaldea Servant?" Sakuzuki wondered, but quickly realized, "That makes sense. With Ritsuka's skill level, Artoria would have a hard time dying even if she wanted to, not to mention that the food at Chaldea is definitely better than in Avalon."

Only after a Servant dies will their memories return to the Throne of Heroes. In other words, Artoria, whose true form descended to Earth, was unaware of the heart-to-heart talk between the new Moon and the Saber on the island.

But the new moon is not so considerate as to take care of the ahoge (cowlick).

"We'll discuss the detailed plan with Lingxia tonight. Next is the last thing, which is your real name."

Although the ahoge (cowlick) always wore the degraded version of 'Hades' cloak' projected by the new moon, it was always concealing its identity and ultimately made it difficult to gain people's trust.

Moreover, the intensity of the upcoming war would not allow Artoria to use the 'Wind King Barrier' as a pretext.

"As your Master, I command you, Artoria. You are permitted to unleash your Noble Phantasm in the upcoming battle," said Sakugetsu. "As for the mana consumption, the Black Faction's artificial battery system will suffice. I must admit, that fat Gordo did a good job in this regard."

She saved the androids, but coldly regarded her kind as firewood and mere magical blocks to fill her Noble Phantasms.

This is not contradictory, because in Shuoyue's eyes, the act of rescuing the androids is not out of morality, but simply to find a useful pawn.

Artoria sighed inwardly, finally understanding the assassin's modus operandi.

...Try not to use your Noble Phantasms. If you do use them, pay for them with your own magical energy.

With this thought in mind, Artoria responded softly.

"Understood, my Master."

Chapter 433 Black Square Fortress, Joan of Arc Appears

Chapter 434 Black Square Fortress, Joan of Arc Appears

Before the morning star rose, the Black Faction's Servants finally returned to the cold fortress of Mirenia and paid homage to their leader among the kings.

Danic was nowhere to be seen for some reason. After waiting for a long time, everyone showed relieved smiles when they saw Siegfried and the others return. But Vlad III did not smile. He stared at the group with a sharp, almost cold expression, and then waved after a moment.

"Tie them up and await their fate."

Unlike the original storyline, Astolfo bears much more responsibility due to the escape and sacrifice of the homunculi. As a result, he is arrested upon returning to the fortress and imprisoned in the dungeon after being imprisoned by the enraged Grand Duke who pierces him with a stake.

But this time, only the android who was 'suspected' of becoming the core of the magic furnace was taken away by the new moon. Moreover, Astolfo had rendered meritorious service in protecting Gordes and could, in a sense, leave the Black Faction at any time. Therefore, Vlad III's attitude towards him had to be softened.

Otherwise, what if Ast impulsively breaks away from the Black Faction completely? After Sereneka's death, the Black Faction no longer has Command Seals to restrain him.

"Wait, lord!"

Chiron, an accomplice of the hidden homunculi, stepped forward to plead for Astolfo, but the paladin stopped him with a look.

It's pointless to split the camp in two over something so trivial. I'll take the blame and punishment for this. If that solves the problem, all the better.

Astolfo's eyes clearly revealed this will to sacrifice.

He understood the cause and effect of his punishment; his escape with the androids was clearly detrimental to the Black faction. Therefore, as king, he needed someone to be punished. And, that person should be none other than himself.

Even though it was utterly unreasonable, even though he knew he hadn't done anything wrong, and even though he wasn't refusing punishment—he had already made this plan on his way back here.

Astolfo's only concern was that if he revealed his involvement in releasing the homunculi, Vlad III might distance himself from Chiron.

With war about to break out, a dispute between the king and his strategist would be disastrous. Punishing only a reckless knight wouldn't necessarily cause the entire front to collapse.

Bound by magic, Astolfo was taken away from the Royal Chamber by the homunculus servants. Before Vlad III could say anything, the doors of the Royal Chamber opened again, and Danic, dressed in a white-gold robe and holding a scepter, led a young girl into the Royal Chamber.

"Please come in, Your Honor, we, the Black side, welcome you."

Upon hearing this, Artoria was startled, thinking that her identity had been exposed, but she quickly realized what was happening and looked up at the girl at the door.

Clad in light armor and holding a holy banner, her beautiful and youthful face bore the solemnity unique to an adjudicator. If she were to remove her silver headband and let her hair down, it would be hard not to remind Artoria of her own girlhood.

But as her gaze moved downwards, Artoria quickly noticed the difference between Jeanne and herself, and her expression immediately fell.

The size of the saintess's chest was something that even the knight king couldn't match... She could barely compete with her when she was carrying a gun, but how could an adult compare to a young girl?

"Fat, all fat..." Artoria muttered to herself, the resentment emanating from her body causing Siegfried to take a step back.

Joan of Arc, unfazed by the scrutinizing gazes of the Black Faction members, walked up to the king. Because she was not a subject, she did not bow, and the king remained unmoved.

“My name is Joan of Arc, and I was summoned to this Holy Grail War.”

"Well, it is indeed trustworthy to have people who believe in the same God as the judges."

Because we believe in the same God, I hope you understand that my aim is to uphold justice.

Faced with that resolute gaze, a smile crept onto Hei's lips. Did he take it as just a country girl's playful remark?

"It is now nearly dawn. Please state your purpose, Arbitrator."

Faced with Vlad III's questioning, Joan of Arc, who had been running all night but was always a step too late, did not mince words and spoke bluntly:

"In the dead of night, you fought against the Red Team's Servants, didn't you? The opponents were Achilles, Atalanta, and Spartacus."

"Indeed, so what?"

"As a result, the retreat fell into your hands in the form of capture—and what happened after that?"

Chiron, Siegfried, and Artoria, who were present, gave subtle responses to Joan of Arc's question. No, it wasn't just him; the homunculi wielding their battle axes also showed a hint of hesitation.

However, the reaction was stronger than anyone else's, that of Vlad III.

"It's really unpleasant."

The mere utterance of those words instantly filled the air with murderous intent. Despite its seemingly childish and irrational outburst, its power rivaled that of a suppressive weapon covering a vast area. Yet, it calmly withstood this overwhelming killing intent.

Compared to the malice she felt when she sought an audience with Prince Charles in Chinon as a village girl, and when she was interrogated as a prisoner as a heretic, this was nothing. After all, back then, if she made even the slightest suspicious move, she would be executed immediately.

"If you're unwilling to answer, there's nothing I can do; this matter ends here. I'll conduct the investigation myself from now on."

Just as she was about to turn and leave, his murderous aura suddenly subsided.

"I apologize, it seems my joke went a little too far." Having concluded his initial probing, Vlad III tapped his throne and stated his purpose:

"Well then, let me get straight to the point. We are facing an enemy united by the Mage's Association and the Church, an enemy who also harbors murderous intent towards you. Therefore, it is only natural that we hope you can become a member of our forces, isn't it?"

The conversation seemed to be getting heated, and Joan of Arc frowned.

“As I said before, I am. I am the absolute arbiter of this war summoned by the Holy Grail... I have my own purpose, and it is not to stand on the same side as you.”

"Don't you have any wishes? Since you were summoned by the Holy Grail, you should have your own wishes, right?"

"That's not the case. One of the qualifications for being summoned as an adjudicator is to have no desire for the present world."

Hearing this, they were all shaken, especially after learning about the story of the saintly girl in front of them. It was hard for anyone to believe that she had no desires.

He seemed agitated and slammed his fist on the armrest of the chair. He stood up and, as if to unleash his past arrogance, shouted:

"Joan of Arc, I know your fate very well! Betrayed by everyone, robbed of everything, and ultimately dying a violent death, you couldn't possibly have been without desires! Answer me now, without the slightest falsehood!"

If the murderous aura just now was a weapon of wide-ranging suppression, then every word now is as sharp as an iron stake. If even half a lie is uttered, or if the Duke's approval is not obtained, the body will likely be pierced immediately.

Even in such a perilous atmosphere, the French saint remained unmoved, speaking in a calm voice that could easily suppress his imposing manner:

“No. Everyone thinks I died with resentment, that I must have longed for revenge or redemption. But—the life I led had a sense of fulfillment that only I know. Although it's not something that everyone can agree on, at least I have no regrets about my life, nor do I have any desire to place my hopes on the Holy Grail. If I have any, it's only that I hope this Holy Grail War can continue on a normal track.”

"You who have been abandoned by God, how dare you say such things?"

“That’s a foolish idea. The Lord will not abandon us. No, the Lord would never abandon anyone. We pray to heal the Lord’s sorrow. Yes, I truly do—”

I heard the Lord's sigh—

A mournful cry, a sigh, a sob, a lament.

The world is rolling straight towards hell, and no one can stop it. No, or perhaps... hell was always meant to be?

How tragic—the Lord lamented. People are not even allowed to live simply; they must either become beasts or prey, they must choose one.

The conflict never ends, and blood continues to stain the earth.

That's why the Lord uttered a lament, and I heard His voice, that extremely faint voice that no one else could perceive.

It is very clear that listening to that voice and doing what resonates with it means giving up everything you have up to this point.

I must abandon the simple way of life as a villager, and I must also give up the joy of being loved by others. There will be no reward for doing so. Whether enemy or ally—I will surely be ridiculed by most.

That was a horrifying thing. A country girl single-handedly venturing into a battlefield rife with the worst aspects of human nature—that was simply not the act of a normal person.

But the Lord is weeping.

I... I must be unable to bear this feeling, and I can't ignore it.

To stop the Lord from weeping and to give Him the greatest comfort, I will challenge the hell of this world.

Don my armor, hang my sword, raise my banner—offer my life!