Nobody knows how to be a villain better than me.

He was summoned by Tokiomi for two reasons: firstly, because of their compatibility, and secondly, because Pandora wanted to weaken his power and imprint a mark of restraint on him.

Because, as a Servant, he is far easier to deal with than his original self.

Before Samael could think further, a fair hand effortlessly snatched the thrusting holy spear and threw it backhand.

"puff!"

With a dull thud as the cloth tore, the cold blade of the spear pierced Samael's abdomen, dragging him along until he was pinned to a stone pillar behind him.

The ancient serpent tried to struggle, but the divine power within its body was continuously drained away by the two unfortunate objects in the sky and on the ground. Its hands, which it barely raised to the air, fell limply after a burst of light patterns, like a piece of cured meat nailed to a pillar waiting to be dried.

"How do you have alien keys and spaceship fragments?"

"Of course we found it."

Pandora answered casually, a hint of self-mockery flashing in her eyes.

"Things of calamity should naturally end up in the hands of the witch of calamity, waiting for the day when they are put to good use. This is an inevitable fate."

"You really went to great lengths..."

"There's no other way. I have to be fully prepared for this long-awaited reunion. I wouldn't dare stand in front of you if I wasn't absolutely certain."

"So, what are you going to do with me? Kill me?"

Samael coughed heavily, giving a mocking, half-smiling reply.

"How could that be? I love you."

Pandora blinked, her expression incredibly serious.

Why release his private information after killing this old man? Are you asking for a beating? You're not stupid!

Sensing the lingering resentment and relentless pressure from his two old enemies, Samael temporarily abandoned his futile resistance.

Immediately, the pitiful-looking snake looked up at the filial daughter who claimed to respect and love him, who had schemed against him since birth, and who had stabbed and shot him without hesitation the moment they met. He then spoke from the bottom of his heart.

"I believe you ghost!"

Chapter 238 Adaptation is not random fabrication, and fiction is not nonsense (4.3k)

Pandora smiled without saying a word at her beloved father's resentful retort, a slight smile playing on her lips, and she even seemed to be secretly enjoying it.

After all, since its birth, it has always been the one being taught a lesson.

The lives of the Greek gods were a history of oppression and tears.

The world-destroying artifact that he created by combining the forbidden power of the gods not only had no chance to be used, but he was also humiliated and imprisoned on Aiyou Island, becoming a labor camp prisoner who was forced to do homework and pick mushrooms every day.

Pandora loathed the mere mention of homework, her pretty face contorted with rage, her clenched teeth grinding involuntarily, as if she wanted to tear a piece of flesh from one of her caregivers.

I don't know where this worm came up with all those wicked and despicable ideas, and it tortures her in different ways every day.

【Yustissa Risleich von Einzbern】This ridiculously long name is so long that I could write it a thousand times a day.

I've become numb to it all, and with practice makes perfect, I can just bear it and it'll pass.

But that's not all.

The first thing I do when I open my eyes in the morning is to submit some bullshit "daily progress" report ranging from a hundred to a thousand words, supposedly to cultivate my character and make progress every day.

In the evening, you are required to write a diary based on your experiences throughout the day, recording the "wonderful" life on the island.

Two daily tasks, plagiarism is strictly prohibited, and the content must be genuine and substantive.

Otherwise, they will either be confined to a dark room or hung up and exposed to drafts.

As for noon and afternoon, don't forget, there's still a thousand repetitions of names and learning reports.

Forced by the tyranny of a certain caregiver, Pandora had no choice but to study hard and strive for excellence every day.

To complete her assignments and pass smoothly, Pandora could stretch a simple mushroom-picking adventure into a thousand-word fantasy tale; she could write a novel on a slack-off day, detailing even the number of rocks and pits on that wretched island.

However, no matter how rich one's emotions or how clever and adaptable one's mind, it cannot withstand such a sustainable, exploitative approach.

On that dilapidated little island, which can be seen from a distance, there are only mountains and trees, or a bunch of piglets raised by Kalke. Where is there so much "good life" to write about?

In the end, Pandora, who was in ecstasy, did nothing but eat and sleep, racking her brains to come up with daily progress plans, learning notes, and that damned diary so that she could pass the test smoothly.

Are people who keep diaries respectable?

Who the serious person keeps a diary?

Are the things written in a diary considered to be one's true feelings?

However, with her mental energy pushed to the limit, even the mighty and unruly witch felt too tired to complain, let alone even entertain the thought of escaping.

When you finally get into a big mess and are dragged out for some fresh air, you're just a tool again.

Once she was done with him, her caretaker immediately changed his attitude and threw her back onto Aiyou Island without hesitation, continuing the same routine.

Although a thousand years have passed, Pandora still feels a chill whenever she thinks of those tragic years, and it took her a long time to overcome this psychological trauma.

Even more tragically, he secretly ran away during the opportune moment when the Star Guardians arrived.

But her caregiver grew stronger and stronger, becoming almost invincible.

Given the ever-widening gap between them and their adversaries, even if Pandora wanted to retaliate, she didn't dare to show her face and cause trouble, so she had to hide in the shadows for nearly a thousand years.

Only after figuring out her father's fatal weakness and accumulating enough trump cards did this long-suffering witch dare to make her official appearance, turn the tables, and successfully trick her most "beloved" father into a trap.

It has to be said that after being oppressed for thousands of years, being able to take revenge feels really good!

Samael, hanging on the stone pillar, caught the gleam of pleasure in Pandora's eyes, forced a fake, stiff smile, and tentatively spoke.

"If this is your revenge, then we're even now, right? If there's anything you're upset about, why don't you put me down and we can talk it over?"

"How can this be considered revenge!"

Pandora retorted righteously, then smiled with narrowed eyes, gazing at the cured meat she had personally hung on the stone pillar, and spoke with deep affection.

"I love you..."

Is this your love?

Upon hearing this, Samael's lips twitched slightly. He looked down at the Holy Lance that had deliberately avoided vital points and pierced him through the heart, and couldn't help but mutter to himself.

So, hitting is a sign of affection, scolding is a sign of love; when love is deep, you kick; when feelings are deep, you throw someone over your shoulder; when love is ingrained in your bones, a hearse arrives.

Seemingly sensing that the scene of deep affection before her was a bit too bloody and incongruous, Pandora smiled and spoke up, patiently offering advice.

"Just bear with it a little longer..."

Then, the Witch of Calamity paused, gently pressed down on Samael's raised hand, which quietly reached for the gun handle, her eyes full of anticipation.

"Once all the noise is swept away, we can become the Eve and Adam of the new era!"

"Sweep away the noise and recreate the world?"

Samael, whose little tricks had been suppressed, rolled his eyes at the filial daughter in front of him, shook his head, and sneered.

"You've probably heard of 'spiritual particle recording tapes,' right? Although this world allows for infinite possibilities, and the development of events can be altered, everything still leaves a trace, with a clear general outline."

"The gods have departed, the heroes have fallen, and the foundations of human reason have been laid."

"This is a script co-written by me and the two opposing forces. With your power alone, whether you deny the past or rewrite the future, you cannot shake this predetermined answer. Stop dreaming!"

The universe's resources and information capacity are finite. So, although the world allows for infinite possibilities, limitless possibilities will exhaust the universe's lifespan. Therefore, at a certain point in time, special worlds (routes) that deviate from the "strongest and most stable path" must be cut down, while the branches on the main timeline are preserved to prevent the improper waste of energy.

This "strongest and most stable route" is the so-called "spiritual record fixed tape," which can also be simply called the "script."

Roughly speaking, a "script" can be performed by different people in different places or at different times, and may even be modified to some extent, resulting in a certain degree of deviation.

But adaptation is not random rewriting, and fictionalization is not nonsense.

The general outline of the "script" remains basically unchanged.

Even if ten thousand people were to perform and interpret Hamlet, Hamlet would still be Hamlet; it's impossible to turn him into a completely different Sun Wukong.

The ancient, pristine white kingdom on the island of Britain, which vanished without a trace after the War of the Covenant, is a prime example.

In order to put an end to the mystery and allow the world to develop more steadily and for a longer period of time, the mystery will fade away, and the "outcome" of "the destruction of Britain" has already been fixed in the "script".

Even if time travel were to be performed, successfully creating a process that "brought prosperity to Britain, ended the war, and brought happiness to the world," the moment history entered the fixed timeline, it would revert to the result that "even so, Britain was still destroyed."

The lives of one or two people, or even several people, may be saved.

However, the great tide of human history can never be easily changed.

This is the quantum recording fixed tape, known in the magic world as the "foundation of human reason".

Therefore, neither the Holy Round Table Realm established by Artoria, the Lion King who wielded the Holy Lance Rungomminiad and was a deity, nor the Fairy Queen Morgan and her Fairy Round Table Realm could change this predetermined ending.

Even though the two sisters, who took turns leading the way, did their best to maintain Britain and it enjoyed a period of glory, it was ultimately destroyed.

During Gaia and Alaya's slumber, the mechanism that ensures the "script" runs smoothly and does not deviate from its original course is called "inevitability".

Yes, it was Samael himself.

This also corresponds to his other divine name, the god of necessity—[First Cause] Chronos.

Therefore, no one should know the contents of the "script" better than him.

Of course, Gaia, which originally represented the planet's self-restraint, and Alaya, which represented humanity's self-restraint, did not share the same interests and goals. In many cases, they probably did not get along very well, and naturally, they did not have common plans and management.

However, the emergence of Samael's living guarantee mechanism made it possible to reconcile the contradictions and reach a consensus between the two parties.

Upon hearing this, Pandora frowned slightly, clearly not expecting that the three strongest guardians of this planet had planned the world's "script" in advance.

However, the core content of the script contradicts the original intention of the Pandora's Box to cleanse humanity and severely damage the world.

It would indeed be very difficult for someone to rewrite the script co-written by the three guardians on their own.

She even had to prepare for a full-scale war, to awaken the gods and the freaks in the Starry Sea.

But in an instant, the witch of calamity smiled, gently stroking his handsome face with the back of her hand, and spoke softly.

"It's alright, you'll definitely help me, won't you, dear father?"

Samael, who was hanging on the stone pillar, smiled noncommittally.

"You may draw upon my magic, but do you dare unleash my power?"

Pandora fell silent and instinctively withdrew her hand.

That's right, she really didn't dare.

After racking his brains and scheming for a thousand years, he gathered a whole bunch of junk specifically designed to restrain this guy, and even went so far as to bleach half of his own soul and sell himself out, before finally managing to stuff this cunning worm into the trap he had carefully prepared.

The power of a father's love, like seven wolves, was personally demonstrated by Cronus and Zeus, father and son, on the Sea of ​​Oceanus.

Even if this caregiver isn't as ruthless and cruel as the former, if things go wrong and this guy breaks free, Pandora believes her future days won't be easy, and she'll probably have to say goodbye to the sunlight forever.

Samael looked at his good daughter, who was frowning and hesitant, and sneered.

"Haven't decided yet? No problem, we seem to have plenty of time now, I can wait patiently."

"……wait?"

However, the witch, who seemed to be deep in thought as she stood before the stone pillar, deliberately slowed down her voice, and a meaningful glint flashed in her raised eyes.

"What you're waiting for isn't me, but the group of reinforcements you brought yourself, isn't it?"

The hint of mockery deep within those ruby-red eyes made Samael's heart sink, and his face froze.

She found out...!

"The four you brought with you are indeed quite troublesome..."

At that moment, Pandora turned to look at the door behind her, and when she turned back again, a playful smile appeared in her eyes.

"However, have you ever considered that since I created the Holy Grail ritual, and the related summoning and Command Seals are all related to me, then guess what 'necessary means' I might have for dealing with Heroic Spirits?"

In an instant, a terrible thought flashed through Samael's mind, and his expression changed drastically.

"Oh, by the way, it's really kind of you to rack your brains and drag this out for so long, and you even shared some interesting secrets with me..."

With her slender, white fingertips, she lightly lifted the man's chin, her enigmatic gaze filled with amusement.

"But don't you think that the allies who have the upper hand on the ground haven't shown up yet? Isn't that taking too long?"

Oops!

Samael's mind raced, and his ominous premonition grew stronger.

"Crack...!"