Little Garden 71-75

Title: The Tohsaka Family’s Eternal Misfortune

Golden ripples flickered across the sky, attempting to fire a Noble Phantasm.

Yet all the Gate of Babylon could manage now was to flash twice.

Seeing that the Gate of Babylon couldn’t launch any Noble Phantasm at all, Aslan couldn’t help but burst into laughter.

It wasn’t just Aslan—Artoria also failed to suppress a smile as she watched Gilgamesh crawl sheepishly out from beneath a pile of containers, angrily trying to use his Noble Phantasm against Aslan, only to cause a great commotion with absolutely no effect.

As for Iskandar, he dropped all pretense and roared with laughter.

“Hahaha! King of Heroes, if this is the vengeance you speak of, then this king can do nothing but laugh!”

Indeed, Gilgamesh had provided him with genuine amusement—a truly entertaining clown show.

“Mongrel!”

Faced with mockery from the other Servants, the arrogant and egotistical Gilgamesh became truly enraged. Unable to restrain himself, he shouted furiously:

“This king shall make you understand what it means for royal dignity to be inviolable!”

“Enuma Elish!”

A strange sword composed of three cylindrical blades materialized in Gilgamesh’s hand.

The three blades slowly rotated, slicing through the surrounding space. Holding Ea firmly, Gilgamesh aimed it at Aslan.

With a cold expression, Gilgamesh gripped Ea and pointed it toward Aslan.

“With the Command Spell, King of Heroes—return to me.”

Hearing this, Gilgamesh cursed in rage.

“Tokiomi! How dare you!”

But before he could finish speaking, Gilgamesh was forcibly recalled under the compulsion of the Command Spell.

As he vanished, Gilgamesh cast one last glare toward Aslan—and saw only mocking amusement.

“Is this all? And you call yourself the King of Heroes?”

“Tohsaka Tokiomi!”

Enraged, Gilgamesh was forced to leave the scene.

“Tsk tsk. Poor Gilgamesh—what rotten luck to end up with a Master like that.”

Aslan couldn’t help but feel a bit of sympathy for Tokiomi. Gilgamesh was now utterly furious.

Aslan wondered curiously what would ultimately become of Tokiomi.

Perhaps Tokiomi still believed the focus of this Holy Grail War was the Holy Grail War itself?

Frankly, every Servant summoned this time possessed the power to end the entire Holy Grail War in a single night.

◆━⊰✧⊱━◆

Meanwhile, not far away, Kiritsugu observed the scene through his sniper rifle, catching sight of Artoria standing protectively in front of Aslan.

Though outwardly calm as always, Kiritsugu’s confidence in Artoria—or rather, in Saber—diminished slightly.

“Well, Maiya? Can you spot Lancer’s Master from your position?”

“No, I can’t locate him.”

Maiya’s emotionless voice came through the earpiece, bringing unwelcome news.

Hearing this, Kiritsugu’s expression darkened slightly.

“Has it come to this?”

The Servants had been granted absolute autonomy. This time, the Heroic Spirits were entrusted by the Counter Force to deal with the Outer-Demon God and had been given Grand Spirit Origin status.

They could even receive direct support from the Counter Force, drastically reducing their need for mana from their Masters and granting them immense independence.

In such circumstances, the only thing capable of controlling a Servant was the Command Spell.

However, if Masters didn’t interfere, Servants acting independently posed a serious threat.

Yet this was also his opportunity. Saving the world was the responsibility of the Heroic Spirits entrusted by the Counter Force. Kiritsugu wanted to achieve his dream of world peace—so he needed to obtain the Holy Grail.

If he could ambush several Servants while they fought the Outer-Demon God, or if Saber alone remained at the end...

Of course, all this assumed the Servants were actually capable of fighting.

Limited by his experience, Kiritsugu had no idea how powerful a target so highly valued by the Counter Force could be.

After all, there existed Noble Phantasms like the Shining Lance of the End—an ultimate Super-Spec weapon requiring thirteen restrictions just to manifest as a Noble Phantasm.

Against such power, Kiritsugu struggled to imagine any opponent capable of resistance.

So—should he act now?

Kiritsugu glanced at Waver, who stood beside Iskandar, crying while hitting him.

Then at Manaka, holding Aslan’s hand, walking closely beside him with obvious affection.

These two Masters were merely ordinary magi.

Now, if he gave the order, he and Maiya would pull the trigger, and bullets would instantly pierce their skulls.

In doing so, Kiritsugu would gain a significant advantage in the Holy Grail War.

Just as Kiritsugu prepared to squeeze the trigger, Aslan and Scáthach simultaneously turned around, smiled, and nodded directly toward the sniper scope.

“I didn’t expect it’d be this old man showing up.”

To Aslan and Scáthach, Kiritsugu’s presence—or more precisely, his attempt to hide nearby—was already known.

They simply didn’t care. A bullet from a sniper rifle couldn’t harm them in the slightest.

What caught their attention instead was the tall figure standing behind Kiritsugu—King Hassan, who held the massive sword Azrael, having appeared there unnoticed.

It was as if the moment Kiritsugu pulled the trigger, death itself would descend upon him.

There was no thought of the Holy Grail War in King Hassan’s eyes. His sole purpose now was to eliminate any unfavorable factors threatening the Heroic Spirit Alliance in their battle against the Outer-Demon God.

And when necessary, deliver the Concept of Death to those who stood in the way.

Unlike the proud and overly optimistic magus Masters, King Hassan held an extremely pessimistic view of their final enemy.

After all, what kind of foe could possibly force seven Grand Servants into action?

Thus, he would allow no element of discord or risk within the alliance.

After exchanging a nod with Aslan and Scáthach, King Hassan’s figure vanished once more.

As for Kiritsugu—he hadn’t made a fatal mistake, so he was allowed to live.

“So, Master, anything else? If not, I’ll be off.”

Having toured the area and gone on a date with Manaka, Aslan had nearly met all the Servants who might have surrounded him.

He’d also gained one Saber.

His objectives were complete.

Now, he’d continue his date.

“Oh—I almost forgot. Saber, your contract with Kiritsugu.”

Suddenly, Aslan remembered that Saber’s contract still belonged to Kiritsugu. Artoria was already his knight—how could she be contracted to someone else?

-

Title: Emiya Kiritsugu Awakens from His Dream

*SNAP!*

Aslan snapped his fingers, and Kiritsugu—who had been observing them from afar—was instantly teleported right in front of Aslan, Artoria, and Irisviel.

“Kiritsugu?”

Irisviel stared in shock at the man she loved, suddenly appearing before her.

“Kiritsugu, are you alright?”

Irisviel embraced Kiritsugu, who still seemed dazed and not fully conscious. She could tell he was in terrible condition.

In fact, she almost doubted whether he was alive at all.

Just moments ago, he had experienced the sheer terror of death—an unavoidable death, even if Time Alter were accelerated to its absolute limit.

It was the most fundamental fear of life itself.

Yet his goal remained unfulfilled. How could he die halfway?

“Iri, I’m fine.”

Kiritsugu didn’t want Irisviel to worry. He answered quietly, saying nothing more.

Then, Kiritsugu turned his gaze toward the one responsible for bringing him here—Aslan, who was watching with calm amusement.

“Finished chatting? Not interested in talking anymore?”

Aslan paused. He had wanted to see the emotional reunion between Kiritsugu and Irisviel unfold.

Was that all there was to it?

“I wonder… is there anything I can do for you, Your Majesty?”

Kiritsugu asked humbly. In his heart, all lives were equal. He wouldn’t bow simply because Aslan was King Arthur.

“Artoria has become my knight. Therefore, your contract with her must end.”

Aslan spoke as he pulled out the Talisman of All Spells he had previously purchased in Little Garden.

“How could my knight serve under another’s banner?”

“Choose—will you willingly sever the contract, or will you fight me until the end?”

Aslan smiled at him. Though he acknowledged Kiritsugu might be a figure he once knew, he would still act ruthlessly—even against Saber.

Let alone Kiritsugu.

“If you release the contract willingly, I can guarantee the safety of you, Irisviel, and Illya throughout this Holy Grail War.”

Hearing Illya’s name, Kiritsugu’s heart trembled violently.

The weight of Illya in his arms wasn’t even as heavy as the sniper rifle in his hands…

Memories of moments spent with Illya slowly rose to the surface of his mind.

But then he thought of his dream—if he obtained the Holy Grail, he could realize world peace and bring smiles to every face on Earth.

Gradually, Kiritsugu strengthened his resolve. There was no way he could abandon his participation in the Holy Grail War.

He had staked his family, his ideals, everything. He had no reason to give up.

“Oh, by the way—I should mention, this Holy Grail has actually been corrupted for a long time. Any wish you make will manifest in the worst possible way.”

A wicked smirk curled at the corner of Aslan’s lips. For some reason, the act of personally shattering someone else’s dreams gave him a slight thrill.

Still, it couldn’t really be called destroying their dreams—it was more like waking Kiritsugu up.

“I agree to dissolve the contract.”

The moment he heard the Holy Grail was corrupted, Kiritsugu replied without the slightest hesitation.

After all, a being so overwhelmingly powerful that he could take his life effortlessly had no reason to lie to him. Moreover, this was already the best possible outcome.

If he continued fighting, his sacrifice would be meaningless.

He came to pursue the Holy Grail to fulfill his ideal of world peace—but now, the Grail was tainted.

He could already imagine how his wish would twist into reality.

His desire was world peace—but not a peace devoid of all life.

If that were the case, wasn’t it better to have a warm wife and child by his side?

Aslan had no reason to deceive him.

This brutally honest truth shattered his illusion. The so-called dream of achieving world peace was, in the end, just a fantasy.

Now, it was time to wake up.

Of course, the more critical point was that, given the near-absolute difference in strength, Kiritsugu saw no possibility—none at all—of defeating Aslan.

And yet, this King Arthur had shown him mercy.

Kiritsugu willingly dissolved his contract with Saber and removed Avalon from Irisviel’s body.

He exchanged Saber for Artoria.

At that moment, Kiritsugu felt an immense relief. Freed from the heavy burden of his ideals, even his expression softened into a faint smile.

“Iri, I’m back.”

He wouldn’t leave again. He wouldn’t chase after abstract ideals.

Kiritsugu didn’t say it aloud, but Irisviel could clearly see that the Kiritsugu beside her had decided to become a true husband and embrace the responsibility of being a father.

“Oh, and remember to bring Illya to visit Fuyuki City sometime. Sakura really needs a friend her own age.”

Aslan turned around, waved casually, and left with Manaka and Artoria.

He had no intention of being fed dog food by Kiritsugu and Irisviel.

“I didn’t expect you to be so kind.”

Rider had already departed with his Master. Scáthach, however, watched Aslan’s actions with keen interest.

“Of course. I’m kind-hearted and can’t bear to see tragedies. If I can save someone, naturally, I’ll do it.”

Aslan waved his hand carelessly and glanced at Scáthach.

“By the way, aren’t you going to look for your Master?”

Scáthach touched her lips with her finger, recalling the state of her Master, Kayneth.

“He’s probably still studying the runes I drew randomly. He’s not interested in me.”

Kayneth knew his place. Though arrogant, he wasn’t foolish. Scáthach was clearly not someone he could control—not even with Command Spells.

Rather than risk angering a Divine Spirit-class Servant, it was wiser to take advantage while Scáthach was in a good mood and gain as much benefit as possible.

Knowledge that was extremely valuable to him was trivial and easily accessible to Scáthach.

What was the Holy Grail War? Was it even one ten-thousandth as important as his new, revolutionary thesis?

He barely paid attention to Sola-Ui.

And Waver? Who was Waver? Did he even have such a disciple?

“Great. You’re not much different either.”

Aslan sighed. He spoke as if there were a huge difference between what Scáthach did and what he himself did.

Indeed, although Kayneth was a standard magus, he was also one of the few relatively humane ones.

“So you’ll just stick with me?”

“What? This queen is by your side, and you’re complaining?”

Scáthach shot back oddly. Her appearance and figure weren’t bad, were they?

“That’s not it. It’s just that next up is my date with Manaka. We don’t need a third wheel.”

Aslan hadn’t forgotten today’s real purpose. Everything else had just been incidental.

“Haaaa… I’ve grown old. Even my disciple doesn’t like me anymore.”

Scáthach sighed deeply, then put away her long spear. After a few leaps, she vanished.

As for Artoria, Aslan instructed her to head first to the Matou residence.

-

Title: The Demon God Named Blacklight

“Kirei, have you found any clues about him?”

Inside a church in Fuyuki City, an elderly priest stood with his back turned to his son, asking about news regarding the target entrusted by the Counter Force to be defeated.

Unlike magi who pursued the Root, the Church, as a religious institution, placed great importance on potential end-of-the-world crises.

Even now, both the old priest and his son had been given the responsibility of confronting such an apocalyptic crisis.

If they failed, the Church would dispatch Executors from the Burial Agency to handle it.

“I’ve used every method available, yet I still haven’t found a single clue.”

Kirei replied listlessly. He had mobilized all of Fuyuki Church’s resources to search, but not even a trace had surfaced.

Fuyuki City remained as peaceful as ever.

Yet precisely in times like this, the deeper the peace, the more terrifying it felt.

Risei gazed at the empty church and felt a faint unease stirring within.

◆━⊰✧⊱━◆

“Slow. Too slow.”

Looking at the writhing mass of Blacklight Virus—its dark red and black substance churning and merging—Aslan sighed helplessly and muttered quietly:

“After all this time, it still can’t fully digest even the most basic Phantasmal Species?”

This wasn’t what he had expected. Logically, the evolution speed of the Blacklight Virus—the Last Trial of Mankind—shouldn’t be this sluggish.

But in reality, both its evolution and infectivity were unsatisfactory.

More accurately, the Blacklight Virus’s capabilities were entirely focused on infection and mass production. It could easily infect and assimilate Six-Digit beings, but struggled against Five-Digit entities.

All genes consumed were recorded across every virus particle. Once infected, every host could manifest in their strongest possible form.

This perfectly aligned with the worldview of Magic-less Technology. But when facing things beyond that worldview, it was powerless.

For example, even the most ordinary Phantasmal Species capable of Magecraft—no matter how completely the Blacklight Virus digested their body—it could never develop a source of Mana.

“The limitations shouldn’t be this severe.”

“Wait… could it be due to something else? Authority, worldview, and achievements?”

The Blacklight Virus gained the Authority of the Last Trial of Mankind because of the ego of a few high-ranking individuals who created a world-destroying virus.

Much like Aži Dahāka, born from the devastation caused by planet-destroying superweapons and the evil rulers who wielded them.

The overlap between Blacklight’s Authority and Aži Dahāka’s was extremely high. In fact, the birth of the Blacklight Virus could be considered another manifestation of Absolute Evil.

Currently, the Authority of Absolute Evil is entirely controlled by Aži Dahāka. Naturally, any achievements stemming from Absolute Evil flow toward Aži Dahāka instead.

This causes Aži Dahāka’s Authority to continuously swell.

In contrast, Blacklight lacks any other historical support from humanity aside from the title of Last Trial of Mankind.

Without accelerated achievements or backing from human history, the consequence is that Blacklight’s growth depends entirely on its own abilities?

Aslan hadn’t anticipated that the growth of the Last Trial of Mankind would face resource competition.

Blacklight is Absolute Evil, and Aži Dahāka is also Absolute Evil—but the Absolute Evil is Aži Dahāka.

Thus, all achievements necessary for Blacklight’s growth—those born from Absolute Evil—are siphoned away to Aži Dahāka, not to the Blacklight Virus.

Just as with the Last Trial of Mankind, Dystopia, and Absolute Evil born from the Third Perpetual Motion Machine.

Only after Dystopia vanishes does Absolute Evil gain the chance to grow.

That’s exactly the relationship between Blacklight and Aži Dahāka now.

Understanding this connection made Aslan feel a headache coming on.

Indeed, the Last Trial of Mankind wasn’t easy to deal with.

Suddenly, a pair of cool hands pressed gently against Aslan’s temples, softly massaging them.

Aslan lay back into Manaka’s lap, receiving both a thigh pillow and gentle massage from the girl.

“What troubles my prince?”

“Perhaps Manaka can help?”

“It’s nothing serious. I just wanted to raise a pet, but the Authority of this pet has already been claimed by another existence.”

“Then just cut off that existence’s Authority—or better yet, kill it?”

Manaka said without hesitation, her sweet voice carrying a hint of cruelty.

In the eyes of a Princess of the Root like her, nothing in the world mattered more than Aslan.

“By the way, what kind of pet does my prince wish to raise? Can Manaka assist?”

“Cutting Authority?”

Aslan murmured softly. His eyes gradually brightened. An idea sparked.

Conflict with Aži Dahāka—this was a disadvantage, but also an opportunity.

After all, Aži Dahāka no longer needed to keep growing. When his Authority swelled to its limit and the Wind of Degeneration arose, the entire Little Garden—and countless human histories across worlds—would be annihilated together.

Aži Dahāka didn’t need achievements of Absolute Evil or support from human history. But Blacklight did.

Now was the time for Blacklight to emerge.

“Thank you, Manaka. I’ve found a way.”

Aslan said joyfully—so overjoyed, in fact, that he kissed Manaka’s cheek.

Still, this method carried certain risks.

It might even cause the Wind of Degeneration to blow once more.

Now was the time for All the World’s Evils and Angra Mainyu to appear.

Using All the World’s Evils as a foundation, reconstruct the Authority of Blacklight. Then use Angra Mainyu to draw the attention of the Mother of All Evils.

Aslan didn’t believe that the Mother of All Evils—the Two-Digit Human Evil—could have died so easily. She was likely severely wounded and sleeping somewhere.

One who bears the name Mother of All Evils could effortlessly awaken her.

Once she awoke, everything would become simple. Because Absolute Evil inevitably leads to the destruction of humanity.

The Mother of All Evils doesn’t want humanity destroyed—so she allowed Aži Dahāka to bear the title of Absolute Evil, becoming a flawed Last Trial of Mankind.

Yet even so, this couldn’t prevent the swelling of Absolute Evil’s Authority.

Even three years later, Ouroboros had to relinquish Absolute Evil and allow it to be defeated.

Aslan boldly speculated that it wouldn’t take years for the Authority of Absolute Evil to reach its limit and trigger the Wind of Degeneration.

The basis of this speculation was the birth of the Savior Kalki. If Little Garden weren’t truly approaching its end, why would Kalki be born?

After all, Little Garden’s Central Core wouldn’t freely bestow the Authority of the Savior without good reason.

This Authority of the Savior isn’t an achievement or title earned by Aslan for saving the world, but rather a destined hero fated to save the world.

The closer the apocalypse approaches, the stronger the support the Savior receives from Little Garden’s Central Core—even reaching Two-Digit levels.

Avesta, Another Cosmology containing ten different cosmic perspectives, could also be an experiment by the Sun King Group on The Preserver Vishnu.

The Ten Avatars of Vishnu—the first Avatar Ark, the second Cosmic Dragon Kurma, the eighth Krishna, the ninth Siddhartha—are all Two-Digit.

Among them, Siddhartha is Shakyamuni’s alias.

The Preserver Vishnu has nothing to do with the Vishnu of Little Garden. It’s just that Hinduism exaggerated him too much.

Still, this Authority has a high probability of materializing, making Vishnu extremely unlucky.

All four Two-Digit beings wear the disguise of his Avatars and act in his name. Now Vishnu is utterly resigned.

Hermes faced a similar fate with The Threefold Great Hermes. Once completed, he too will become One-Digit.

However, unlike Vishnu, and unlike Hinduism which proclaims others as his Avatars, Hermes didn’t promote himself that way.

Thus, he avoided becoming a subject of experimentation for the Big Shots.

-

Title: Outer-Demon God? No, I’m the Last Trial of Mankind?

What is the essence of Spirit Origin? What is the essence of achievements? And what is the essence of the Gift system in Little Garden?

The answer is illusion, falsity—transforming the unreal into reality.

The relationship between humanity and the world is reciprocal. Whether actions, words, or daily activities, all of these influence the world and create a series of changes.

These changes, to humans, constitute their lives. But to Little Garden, they are the creation and flow of concepts—a secondary breath that affects the “breath of the world.”

And this massive, chaotic “flow of concepts,” this very breath of life, is known in Little Garden as achievements.

Are these “flows of concepts” real?

On a spiritual and belief level, these flows are profoundly real—especially once they form large-scale concept streams rooted in countless Multiverses.

This is the truth behind the formation of human history.

Then, what is Spirit Origin?

Spirit Origin is the totality of a person’s achievements—the sum total of their impact on the world.

A Gift is the tangible product formed from the totality of achievements generated by specific concepts.

The Gift and Spirit Origin systems within Little Garden are built upon “achievements” or “influence.” They gather concepts, assemble Gifts, and gradually evolve into Spirit Origins—and even new truths within the universe.

The only flaw in this system is that it is founded entirely upon achievements (influence).

Take Aslan, who saved the Apocalypse world. Did he truly save that world?

Is merely providing information about the Umbrella Corporation to China enough to be called a Savior and credited with saving the world?

The answer is both no and yes.

Just like a general leading victory in war. Clearly, it’s the effort of many, yet why is the achievement attributed to one individual?

Because everyone—including history—acknowledges it as the general’s accomplishment. Without him, victory might not have been possible.

But what if the general only had a false reputation, and the war itself was fictional?

Yet the impact is real. As long as the influence is strong enough, it doesn’t matter—this general still gains achievements, Gifts, and a Spirit Origin.

For example, Zhuge Liang and Zhou Yu in history versus Romance of the Three Kingdoms. The Red Cliffs fire attack was Zhou Yu’s achievement, but due to the overwhelming cultural influence of Romance, the feat is credited to Zhuge Liang.

Spirit Origin works the same way. Even if it’s a lie, a fabricated myth, as long as the resulting influence is great enough, it can still form a genuine Spirit Origin.

Now, the Counter Force has given Aslan the perfect excuse—an opportunity to reconstruct the Spirit Origin of Blacklight, the Last Trial of Mankind.

Outer-Demon God? Why can’t an Outer-Demon God become the Last Trial of Mankind?

Of course, Aslan doesn’t expect the influence of this world alone to shape Blacklight’s Spirit Origin.

His plan is to make Blacklight a part of Absolute Evil—not just another molecule within Absolute Evil.

For instance, if Absolute Evil were a corporation, Aži Dahāka would be the chairman holding all shares, while Blacklight is a hardworking employee who receives no salary.

By becoming part of Absolute Evil, Blacklight gains eligibility to claim a share of Absolute Evil’s achievements.

So, in Little Garden, who holds the authority to divide Absolute Evil’s shares? The answer: Mother of All Evils, Angra Mainyu.

Is Mother of All Evils truly dead? As a Two-Digit existence, Aslan believed that even if she perished, she still had the potential to return.

Blacklight, forced to bear the title of Human Evil, is the key to awakening Mother of All Evils.

Honestly, the thrill of dancing on the graves of the Big Shots is intoxicating.

Even Aslan, who considered himself bold and risk-taking, felt this plan was dangerously reckless.

What if Mother of All Evils is truly gone?

Or worse—what if she simply refuses to get involved?

Yet Aslan couldn’t dwell on such thoughts. He had always been eager to stir up trouble.

Or rather, ever since he discovered he could not die, his courage had grown exponentially—he now actively sought out chaos.

“The Counter Force wants to deal with this Outer-Demon God?”

“Well then… what if I create one for them?”

“You think I’m an Outer-Demon God? No—I am the Last Trial of Mankind!”

Aslan already imagined the expressions of the two Counter Forces when confronted by the Last Trial of Mankind.

(You thought I’d destroy the world? Well, I really will destroy it.)

He wanted to see what measures the Counter Force would take against the Last Trial of Mankind.

And along the way—could he earn a little achievement?

(Forget achievements. Forget them. Just get the Spirit Origin first.)

After briefly considering the idea of provoking every god and demon in the Type-Moon World, Aslan abandoned the tempting notion.

The Type-Moon World was utterly unsuitable for observation by Little Garden. It was excellent for acquiring Spirit Origins and Gifts—but disastrous to observe directly.

Who knew how much damage witnessing the Type-Moon World would inflict upon the gods and Buddhas of Little Garden?

“Saber, come here. I’m going to run an experiment.”

Aslan called out. He planned to use Artoria’s contract with the Counter Force and her connection to the Throne of Heroes to conduct a trial.

He wanted to test whether he could use his Displacement Magecraft to pull Artoria’s Original Body from the Throne of Heroes.

“Master, what kind of experiment? Can’t you do it without involving me?”

Artoria spoke with visible unease. She had seen Merlin’s pitiful state too often.

Though admittedly, she found it somewhat satisfying.

Still, she absolutely didn’t want that fate for herself.

“Don’t worry. I’m certainly different from that heartless Merlin.”

Aslan said confidently, patting Artoria’s shoulder reassuringly.

As one of his former wives, how could Artoria possibly receive the same treatment as that emotionless Merlin?

There were only a few minor accidents when using Displacement Magecraft to transfer Merlin’s concepts and Spirit Origin.

He accidentally turned Incubus Merlin into Succubus Merlin—though thanks to Merlin’s extraordinary abilities, he managed to retain his penis afterward.

There were also a few other failed experiments with odd results. But overall, Merlin was still alive and well, wasn’t he?

He hadn’t lost or gained any body parts.

“Master, the more you say that, the less I trust you.”

Artoria replied flatly, struggling hard to suppress her emotions.

If she didn’t know Aslan was another Arthur, she’d have mistaken him for another Merlin.

-

Title: Why Is Someone Trying to Steal My Figurines Again?

“Sad… Lily doesn’t even trust my skills.”

Aslan wiped at the nonexistent tears in the corners of his eyes, speaking with exaggerated sorrow.

“After all, I tested it countless times on Merlin, and only used it on you after making absolutely sure there were no issues.”

Merlin: “I’m so grateful (while grinding my teeth).”

Watching Aslan grow increasingly shameless—gradually transforming into another Merlin—Artoria began to regret becoming his knight.

She now seriously doubted whether this Arthur standing before her could truly be relied upon to take her place as King Arthur.

Wouldn’t the Knights of the Round Table collapse simply from this man’s mouth?

“Calm down, calm down. This time, I’m only going to transfer your original Heroic Spirit.”

“Nothing bad will happen. Trust in my expertise.”

Aslan said confidently. He had already mastered transferring Merlin’s Original Body from Avalon by using Merlin’s Servant body as a conduit.

The only pity was that there was no Merlin present in the Throne of Heroes. Otherwise, Aslan could’ve run another experiment.

Just hearing Aslan’s words made Artoria’s expression gradually turn strange. She stared at him with a gaze bordering on horror.

Stealing a Heroic Spirit directly from the Counter Force? That was pushing it.

And her contract with the Counter Force wasn’t something easily broken. She didn’t believe for a second that the Counter Force would just let her go without resistance.

“Master, is this really possible? Can you really pull my Original Body from the grasp of the Counter Force?”

Artoria had signed her contract with the Counter Force at the moment of her death, allowing her to participate in the Holy Grail War.

Because she contracted with her physical form, she couldn’t naturally shift into Spirit Form. But that didn’t mean this Servant body was her Original Body.

Other Servants’ Original Bodies and Heroic Spirits consisted of a Spirit Core and Spirit Origin, allowing them to naturally assume Spirit Form.

Artoria’s case, however, was more like pulling her past self from this world’s timeline to participate in the Holy Grail War.

But Aslan was too lazy to dwell on such details. After all, later he’d make a Gift for her together with Sakura, merging all these fragmented versions into one unified individual.

“Who knows if the Counter Force might go crazy and try to interfere?”

Aslan stroked his chin, thinking briefly. Honestly, who could predict what the Counter Force was thinking?

Like how they treated him as an Outer-Demon God and even summoned seven Grand Servants to make him the final boss.

“What if the Counter Force shows me a little respect this time?”

Aslan waved his hand, signaling Artoria to step closer.

The next moment, an empty Magic Card appeared and sealed Artoria inside.

As insurance, if anything went wrong, he could still save her.

Intricate magical arrays formed in Aslan’s palm. The Magic Card containing Artoria floated above his hand.

With the aid of a Servant, the Greater Grail, the “Hole,” and the connection to the Throne of Heroes beyond the Hole,

Aslan gazed upon Artoria’s Original Body sleeping on a throne within the Throne of Heroes—as well as countless other versions of Artoria from across alternate realities.

Seeing all these variations, Aslan’s lips twitched.

How obsessed was the Counter Force with Artoria’s face?

Saber, Saber Alter, Lancer Artoria Alter, Lily, Lancer Artoria, Mysterious Heroine X, Mysterious Heroine X Alter, and so on.

There was also Jeanne, Jeanne Alter, Okita Souji, Nero and her variants, Morgan, etc…

All of them were gathered together.

It even gave Aslan the idea to package them all at once.

The only pity was that right now, he could only package the various Artorias.

He couldn’t even locate the Throne of Heroes, much less break in and rob it outright.

After all, it was the one-of-a-kind Throne of Heroes across the entire Type-Moon cosmology—so Aslan was slightly hesitant to provoke it.

Better not to stir up trouble at a time like this.

*BUZZ!*

The next instant, the Magic Card in Aslan’s hand and the Original Heroic Spirit bodies of the Artorias in the Throne of Heroes switched places.

Since Heroic Spirits were essentially pre-integrated results, Aslan easily granted Artoria her Original Spirit.

However, among all the different Artorias, only Saber possessed a physical body. The others remained unchanged—merely alternate personalities of Artoria.

Finally, Aslan recalled his Magic Card.

With that, Artoria had been successfully packaged.

“Huh… strange. Why hasn’t the Counter Force reacted at all?”

Aslan scratched his head in confusion. Everything had gone too smoothly—it felt unnatural.

After all, he was used to the Counter Force acting wisely. Now, their sudden lack of interference felt oddly unsettling.

◆━⊰✧⊱━◆

Contrary to what Aslan thought, here was the current situation at the Throne of Heroes.

“Gaia! My Artoria~!”

Within the Throne of Heroes, a voice rang out—pitiful, mournful, and heart-wrenching.

It was painful just to witness or hear.

“Alaya, it’s fine. Don’t you remember last time?”

Gaia’s voice pierced through Alaya’s final defenses as she wept.

Instantly, Alaya burst into even louder sobs.

She remembered. She remembered everything. Last time, Heroic Spirits in the Throne of Heroes had also been stolen like this.

Half of them were taken in one fell swoop...

Oh right—the culprit’s last name was Ying.

“My Heroic Spirits, my figurines~!”

Did these people really think the Throne of Heroes was their personal playground—free to come and go as they pleased?

If the Counter Force weren’t forced into passivity, they would’ve already punished that group of people who had long since graduated from the world.

People like Scáthach, rejected by the world, who had completed the unification of the Type-Moon worldview, transcending countless Parallel Worlds.

For example, Second Magician Kischur Zelretch Schweinorg, the Jewel Mage.

Yet for existences who had transcended Earth, Second Magic was merely basic knowledge.

“Seriously, why does every annoying person have to steal my figurines~?”

“Let us mourn.”

Quietly, Gaia made the sign of the cross over her chest and held a moment of silence—0.0003 seconds—for Alaya.

But what could they do?

Though they were the consciousnesses of the Counter Force across infinite Parallel Worlds, they lacked the ability to intervene in the Counter Force of each individual world.

Or rather, without the Throne of Heroes, whether they could even exist was questionable.

Instead, they were often blamed for the foolish actions of the Counter Forces in those Parallel Worlds.

Generally speaking, they were the number one punching bags. Every day, either being blamed or waiting to be blamed.

Right now, for instance, they both felt like they were about to get beaten up.