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

"This……"

"This can't be true, can it?"

"Unfortunately, it's true." Ian stroked the catgirl's head.

"If this place isn't repaired... humanity's future is doomed."

"..."

Atalanta did not doubt Ian's words.

Or rather, from the day he helped her save the child, she never doubted him again.

After a long silence, the catgirl nodded.

"I understand."

"In that case——"

"Then let's kill all the Servants who shouldn't have appeared in the first place."

"certainly……"

Atalanta's voice trembled.

"Including me."

240. Joan of Arc: Are you...his daughters? (4k)

"..."

Looking at the extremely serious expression on Atalanta's face, Ian immediately realized that she was not joking.

This is the solution she came up with!

After a moment of silence, the man asked:

"Atalanta, is this the solution you think will solve the problem?"

"..."

Atalanta's eyes first showed a hint of melancholy, but quickly regained their resolve.

She nodded.

"Yes."

"I... do think this can solve the problem."

"after all--"

The little cat girl looked at her master, her voice trembling slightly.

"If we just restore everything to its original state... then all of this can end, right?"

"You have a future that you need to protect."

"This clean and efficient solution is the best choice."

"..."

Despite the extremely unclean physical relationship.

This is actually the biggest obstacle—making decisions as decisively as Atalanta is not an easy thing.

But this also raises a problem.

"Atalanta, this might solve the problem, but—"

Ian looked at the kitten girl in his arms who had made this request, and felt a pang of sympathy.

"You'll disappear too, won't you?"

“Even if it disappears… that’s only natural,” Atalanta replied once again.

"I should never have existed here in the first place."

"Being able to have a beautiful memory is already something to be extremely grateful for, so what is there to regret?"

The catgirl had barely finished speaking.

Jeanne d'Arc in black, who was holding Ian's waist, uttered a muttered murmur.

"I love...this feeling."

"It's sticky and hot."

Although it wasn't said outright, both Atalanta and Ian realized what Jeanne Alter had dreamed about.

"That's it for now."

Atalanta tilted her head slightly and said with a smile.

"Compared to me."

"Perhaps you should consider how to resolve the Master's problem."

"Good night~"

Atalanta, like Jeanne Alter, wrapped her arms around Ian's waist.

Although the feeling of being embraced from the front and back is indeed wonderful.

But at this moment, only Atalanta's suggestion remained in the man's mind.

She was right.

This... might really be the best way to fix the singularity.

On the same day, a little earlier.

In the forest dozens of miles away from the Demon King's castle in Orleans.

Following the guidance of the curse mark on Joan of Arc's hand, the group arrived at this place.

As they drew closer to their final destination, everyone's attitude gradually became more serious.

A bonfire was lit.

People from different eras sat around it, discussing their next plans.

Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart spoke first:

"While I really don't want to cause panic... I personally believe—"

"The upcoming battle will probably be much more difficult than we imagine."

"Why do you say that?"

Marie Antoinette looked at the follower who claimed to be a great musician with a somewhat puzzled expression.

"We haven't encountered any problems along the way, have we?"

“That’s precisely why we need to be careful,” Mozart responded to Mary’s question. “The gentler the prelude, the more likely it is to have a thrilling climax.”

I think that's it—

The great musician's gaze swept over everyone present.

"I shouldn't need to elaborate too much."

"Hehehe." Kiyohime covered her mouth with her fan and sneered, "If we really encounter any problems, we can just burn them, right?"

"Anyway, the other party is a dragon witch who has committed many evil deeds."

"We...don't need to act as partners of justice, do we?"

“Kiyohime is right,” Joan of Arc, holding a white flag, replied.

But anyway—

"Everyone, please be careful."

"The necessary vigil must be maintained without any slackening."

After saying this, Jeanne d'Arc looked at Fujimaru Ritsuka beside her and asked with a smile:

"Ritsuka, what do you think?"

“I’ll listen to you,” Fujimaru Ritsuka replied. “You have far more combat experience than I do… I trust your judgment!”

The two Masters from different eras reached a consensus at this moment.

On the same day, in the late night.

Mordred, who was on night watch, looked at the sword in his hand by the light of the campfire, his expression somewhat blank.

That was no ordinary sword, but her Noble Phantasm—the Clarent, the sword of the King of Brilliance.

This is the weapon that her birth mother, Morgan, gave her.

It is the Silver Sword of the King, which grants its owner the right to inherit the entire Camelot kingdom.

But Mordred wasn't concerned with its meaning at that moment.

These were Morgan's heartfelt words spoken before the swords were drawn.

"You must be as brave as your father."

"He... is the hero of all Camelot."

As Morgan's most favored daughter, Mordred knew that her mother rarely praised anyone.

After all, she was the queen of Camelot.

The king was destined to be proud, and naturally he would not write a poem of praise for just anyone.

but now--

The father, whom his mother praised to the skies, ran off with a stranger he had barely met.

This doesn't seem right no matter how you think about it!

Just as Mordred was feeling distressed by this contrast, a hand patted her on the shoulder.

"Little Mo~"