In the world of Type-Moon, it all begins with becoming Morgan's husband!

This is Morgan's sword!

Looking at the sword blade in his hand, which was filled with blue light, Ian smiled happily.

This is not just about seeing familiar weapons again after a long time, but also a further revision of previous ideas.

Retrieved weapon from memory (×)

Extract weapons from your memory that are relevant to you and closely connected to you (√)

Given the vast difference in the legendary status of Morgan's sword and Excalibur Galatine, the scope for judging this ability will likely be quite lenient.

As the blue glow of the disappearing blade filled the air, Ian's mood gradually brightened.

After all, if all of this is true, I will have to find a way to leave more corresponding traces when I enter the simulation in the future.

Only in this way can more things be reproduced.

but--

What can a weapon like this, which has been reproduced, be used for?

And I am currently facing a major problem.

That is, how to preserve these items retrieved from memory for longer?

It would be best if they stayed by my side forever.

This is not a question whose answer can be guessed in a short time.

We need to find a way to get more intelligence.

If you think about it this way...

Ian looked around the room he was in.

Before experiencing that period of British history, I had heard many strange terms in this place called Chaldea.

magic--?

Singularity—?

Heroic Spirits—?

At the time, I didn't understand what these words meant.

Looking back now, it seems to be something closely related to the era of Morgan and Artoria.

If we can figure these things out, we might also know how to maintain their existence.

If we're lucky, we might be able to meet earlier?

But who should I ask for information about these things?

I don't know anyone at all.

Ian, unfamiliar with the place, pondered his few memories related to Chaldea.

Hey, wait!

It seems that I do know people quite well.

Before entering that simulation, I had a little accident with a pink-haired girl in the corridor.

I even commented on her breasts back then.

If I can find her, I might get the answer I'm looking for!

Ian never drags his feet when he does things.

After tidying himself up a bit, he decided to go out and find the pink-haired girl.

It doesn't matter if they don't know the name; just gesture along the way, and someone will eventually remember.

Being thick-skinned is a necessary rule for survival in today's society.

pat.

The door opens.

Ian, who was about to leave, froze in place.

Because he couldn't have come up with that idea.

The moment you open the door, a creature that you can't quite describe as a cat, dog, or rabbit will stop there.

"Fufufu?"

It mumbled strange noises.

89. Merlin must die – this is a consensus. (4,000-word chapter)

Ian can swear an oath.

In his entire life, he had never seen any creature that made him unable to immediately think of an adjective like the one before him.

It has a coat of soft fur.

Its pure whiteness is so extreme that if you threw it into a snowdrift, you might not be able to find its original form.

It also has a pair of long ears, with fine downy fur covering the pink inner ear.

If you only judge based on these two points, you might get the feeling that "it really is a rabbit."

But as soon as you see its limbs and those tiny claws on them, that feeling will quickly turn into a bewildered "This might be a cat."

But if you shift your gaze away from these places and look at its face, you might suddenly realize, "It could also be a dog."

The biggest problem is that only when all these ideas are taken into account will you discover that it actually has a cloud-like curl at the end.

"Monster" seems to be the most perfect and flawless term.

Does this creature actually exist?

Ian began to doubt his own eyes.

but--

Since even time travel has happened.

The appearance of some strange creatures is not something that is hard to accept.

Don't ask, don't look, don't touch.

If you do these three things, then what the other person looks like won't really affect you.

Ian, who already had things to do, decided to avoid the utterly indescribable creature in front of him.

however--

The creature seemed rather displeased with Ian's decision to give way.

Wherever Ian went, it blocked his path, like a moving roadblock.

This time, Ian really couldn't take it anymore.

He's not the kind of person who would stick his face out and get slapped if someone kicked him.

"Don't go too far!"

"Don't stop me, I have things to do!"

After saying that, Ian even made a grimacing face, looking fierce.

He was certain that if any children saw him like this, they would be terrified and cry on the spot.

but--

The creature showed no fear in the face of Ian's threats; instead, it became even more agitated.

"Fufufufu! Fufufufu!"

It expressed its displeasure in a more aggressive manner, even baring its small fangs, looking equally fierce.

Logically speaking, this should be a tense moment.

But Ian's attention was drawn to the new discovery.

He felt as if he understood what the string of "foufufu" represented.

Is it an illusion?

Ian hesitated for a moment, then tentatively asked:

Could you say that again?

"..."

It seemed that it hadn't expected Ian to say such a thing.

However, after hesitating for a moment, this creature, which could not be accurately described, actually did as Ian said.

It even slowed down its speaking speed.

"Fufu——Fufu↘, Fufu——Fufu↗!"

"..."

Although all I heard was the sound of "F" throughout, Ian found that he could actually hear some things.

He tentatively spoke again:

"Are you trying to say, 'Since you've seen Fufu, why not pay your respects?'"

"Fu?!"

The creature's expression changed very noticeably.

Not only did it prick up its ears, but its gaze also changed quite a bit.

If this were a simulation, Ian thought it would probably be something like this.

It was surprised by what you said!

And this is indeed the case.

After Ian successfully "deciphered" the Fou language, the creature began to circle around him, occasionally reaching out its claws to touch him, as if it were conducting some kind of research.