Type-Moon: My Destiny Guide

So that's how it is. Is it disappointment? Yes, it is disappointment...

I, Mordred, am feeling lost, deeply disappointed because some expectation has been dashed—

"Father..."

She murmured to herself, yet her voice was so clear that both Shuoyue and Shizijie could hear her hatred and her expectation.

The rebellious knight leaned on her greatsword, looked up at the moon, and a shattered bull-horned helmet appeared, obscuring her beautiful face.

"I really, really want to see you again..."

The flames of hatred had been extinguished, and the girl's voice was soft, like embers rising from the flames of calamity.

"If I could see you, I would be overwhelmed with joy and kill you with all my might."

“My father, Arthur…”

Far away in Sighishwara, a king removed his mask of pretense, his golden hair flowing freely, unabashedly displaying his beauty under the moonlight.

Looking back at where they came from, ripples appeared in their holy blue eyes, lingering for a long time.

"Mordred..."

Great, I made it in the last minute before the deadline, Amen...

Chapter 451 The Sage's Dream, The Red Team Assembles

Chapter 452 The Sage's Dream, The Red Team Assembles

Mordred and the Lion have escaped. They weren't originally part of the Red Team, and are probably now searching for a hiding place, silently licking their wounds.

In the ravaged land of Sighishwara, all the lights went out, and even whispers were hard to hear.

Only the moonlight, pouring down like mercury, silently illuminated the town.

The young man strolled along the deserted streets, enjoying a rare moment of tranquility as he pondered his next move.

Due to various unforeseen circumstances, the plan to subdue Red Mordred failed. Of course, no one can be blamed for this. Even if the plan had been successfully implemented, she would never have joined the Blue team if the conflict between the troublesome father and son had not been resolved.

He was taking things too lightly. Unfortunately, with the Red team's Hanging Gardens nearing completion, the Blue team has no chance of secretly recruiting Servants.

The battles surrounding the Arbiter, the conflicts arising from the struggle for control, the escape of the Homunculi, the battle between the Servants and Masters of Sighshwala... So far, in these four battles, both sides, no, all three sides have miraculously maintained zero casualties.

But Shuoyue knew that this was only the beginning. When the Red Team's Hanging Gardens launched their attack, the Holy Grail War would truly begin to turn into a bloodbath.

And he, Shuoyue, will become the biggest behind-the-scenes force driving the millstone...

"Hello--!"

A voice called from afar. The young man looked up and saw a blonde girl blinking her beautiful deep blue eyes as she skipped toward him.

Just gazing at her figure erased all the myriad thoughts in my mind, leaving only tranquility.

The moonlight is so beautiful.

Thinking this, Joan of Arc arrived in front of the new moon, pouting and complaining, "What's going on? Why did you suddenly attack me? Do I look that much like King Arthur?"

"Haven't you already seen what Mordred looks like?" Shuoyue retorted.

Joan of Arc was speechless, and finally stomped her foot angrily: "That girl is truly despicable! In short, I never want to see her again! Not only did she attack me with her Noble Phantasm without saying a word, but also, and also..."

"And what?"

Joan of Arc blushed, and looking at Shuo Yue's amused gaze, she couldn't help but slap his arm: "You're so annoying! You always ask questions you already know the answer to!"

Clearly, one of the saintesses was angry because her 'date' had been interrupted. Shuoyue didn't retaliate, but just smiled and let Jeanne d'Arc vent her emotions. Anyway, those little pink fists were soft and harmless, so it was just like a massage.

The new moon's attitude was good, and Miss Jeanne was very satisfied.

In short, remember, you owe me one!

After making this statement, Joan of Arc, the judge, harboring resentment towards a certain unruly child, went to church to begin her busy work.

Mordred's Noble Phantasm is too conspicuous. To cast a spell of suggestion on everyone in Sighshwala and, incidentally, repair the damage caused by the battle between Servants and Mages—this is clearly a huge undertaking that would give even the Church a headache.

Even worse, in order to fully protect the ancient buildings, Sighishwara did not install gas pipelines, making it difficult for the church leaders to even find a reason... My condolences.

After Joan of Arc left, the new moon did not stay in Sighishwara for long, but returned to the Red Army's headquarters at the priest's summons.

—It was a desperate dream that left one's mind blank.

That world was already on the verge of death. The malice of the ruler covered that land, and the weak had no power to resist, only able to let the other side suck their flesh and blood.

There is only despair everywhere.

Having endured cruel exploitation, they finally received a glimmer of hope: a sentence filled with love and redemption.

It was a beautiful phrase that had kept them from succumbing to hunger, poverty, and despair. Yet the rulers wanted to take even that away from them. It wasn't just exploitation; it was murder.

So they stood up. They feared being deprived of their right to live more than dying in battle.

Then, led by a miracle child, they achieved victory.

They should never have won; they shouldn't have been victorious. They were blinded by the desire to save their own lives and didn't consider the bigger picture.

Although there's a saying that a mouse with nowhere to run will bite a cat, it will most likely be killed by the enraged cat after biting it; that's just how things are.

I was so naive.

That was the boy's deep remorse after everything was taken away from him.

The severed heads of old men, the men dissected like experimental animals, the infants killed by spears, and the girls ravaged by lust and then carelessly discarded.

That place could only be called hell, where tens of thousands of lives were concentrated—and the ones who took those lives were not enemies, but themselves.

The boy was so certain of this, yet even so, he still did not give in.

The boy named Amakusa Shiro Tokisada accepted the outcome with an iron will and without flinching. He silently gazed at the scene before him that was gradually heading towards destruction, without showing the slightest sign of giving up or sadness, and even overcame the excruciating pain caused by the severed arms.

I failed, and I accept that.

I'm going to die, and I'll accept that.

Their deaths are entirely their own fault, and I will not shirk that responsibility.

However, I will not allow this to stop here—and I will absolutely not back down on that.

I absolutely disagree with the idea that such a huge number of lives were wasted and nothing was gained.

The sage sighs, the sage roars.

For this horrific scene, for all the souls who perished here.

So God, please give me another chance. This time I will definitely not lose sight of the big picture. I will eliminate all obstacles, enemies, and hardships on the road ahead.

This time I will definitely, absolutely will—

"To grasp all the goodness in this world within the palm of one's hand—"

The dream finally ended, and Amakusa Shiro Tokisada awoke from the layers of the past. Rather than sleeping, it was more like he was awakening that unforgettable memory. He had only intended to take a short nap, but he ended up sleeping quite soundly.

"Are you awake, Master? And that one has already returned."

Red Semiramis seemed to always allow him to sleep on her knees, which was hardly the behavior of an empress.

"Hmm, why am I sleeping on your lap?" Amakusa Shiro asked bluntly.

He had no such memory, but he remembered lying on a bench, and there was probably no one around.

"Just because I am."

After speaking, the Empress let out a cheerful laugh, her elfin-like pointed ears hidden beneath her long hair. Faced with this smile that had once captivated countless men in her lifetime, the white-haired priest responded only with a puzzled expression.

"What if someone sees us..."

"It's nothing, nobody saw anything. Hmm, it's rare for someone to suddenly feel like doing something befitting their status, do you have any complaints?"

The woman's expression immediately turned into one of anger, but this capriciousness did not inspire fear; instead, it added a touch of girlish charm.

Faced with the Empress's favor, Amakusa simply said calmly, "That's really too embarrassing, but thank you anyway," and then got up without any hesitation.

Semiramis was used to Amakusa's lack of romantic understanding, but even so, she still lightly touched her red lips in dissatisfaction before getting down to business:

"It's time. Everyone's here, even though we've lost."

While they're not the type I absolutely can't lose, it would be troublesome if they became enemies.

Both of them sighed simultaneously. Spartacus's Noble Phantasm, 'Roar of the Flawed Beast,' was a Noble Phantasm that could convert all damage inflicted on the user into magical energy and release it. Because it was an ability that acted on the user, it was classified as an anti-personnel Noble Phantasm, but its power was truly at the level of an anti-military force or even an anti-nation, capable of causing cataclysmic destruction.

The problem is that its destructive range is too large. If it is used in the wrong place, it may end up causing great damage to one's own camp, which is ridiculous.

"Fortunately, we know about his Noble Phantasm... Although we don't know at what point it will activate, the Servant should be able to sense it."

The two chatted casually and soon arrived at the king's chamber, which belonged to the red team.

The door opened automatically, and in the spacious room, several great heroes were already waiting for Amakusa and the Empress to make their appearance.

Chapter 452 The Vanity Hanging Gardens are Completed

Chapter 453 The Vanity Hanging Gardens are Completed

Amakusa looked around and saw Achilles and Atalanta resting in their respective relaxed postures; one lay there gazing at the ceiling, while the other sat on the floor, eating what appeared to be skewers of meat made from animals she had hunted.

Karna leaned against the wall, sunlight shining on his fair skin. His face, like a white Noh mask, seemed frozen in place, without the slightest wavering.

Meanwhile, the mysterious young man who calls himself Shuoyue is maintaining his weapon; even when his fist guns are disassembled, they still radiate a chilling light.

"Oh dear, it seems I've kept you waiting. I'm so sorry."

"What are you talking about, Master? Judging from their appearance, they're just killing time."

Both Heel and Tower Meow snorted simultaneously and turned their faces away. It seems that these two have absolutely no respect for Empress Semiramis.

Meanwhile, Shuoyue focused on maintaining her weapons, as if she could gain some new power from the two gauntlets, completely ignoring the back-and-forth between Amakusa and the Empress.

The Empress didn't mind the Servants' rudeness. She nodded arrogantly and sat down on the throne, with Amakusa by her side like a confidant.

Where did you go?

"Don't you understand him?" Achilles replied, still lying on the ground. "He's probably hiding in the workshop and hasn't come out."

"Should I go and call him over?"

"Wait a minute, Master. Your job isn't some easy one like running errands. Let me summon you with telepathy."