Type-Moon: The Human Love Simulator

The first voice was filled with arrogance and condescension:

"My domain has fifteen thousand subjects. A small, desolate lord like you dares compare yourself to me?"

"Hmph! So what if you have fifteen thousand subjects?" a second voice retorted scornfully. "My lands have iron mines. How many lords in Britannia can claim such wealth?"

"Money is meaningless without the power to protect it."

"If you have money, power will follow! Besides, I am under the protection of His Majesty Vortigern! You know Vortigern, right? He doesn't have many Celtic allies, and I am one of the few he favors!"

"Vortigern? You call him His Majesty? My father was once a court advisor to King Uther!"

"..."

"..."

Kaelar raised his eyes, noticing two men dressed in the fine clothing of noble lords. They bore the distinctive traits of Celtic aristocracy—bright auburn hair and freckles, symbols of pure lineage.

In this remote, uninhabited wilderness, a place untouched by man, two nobles were bickering.

This was not a grand ball where nobles emptied their coffers to flaunt their wealth—this was the middle of nowhere.

Yet here they were, arguing in this deserted forest, their initial rivalry over territory and wealth evolving into debates over status, bloodline, and their connections to powerful rulers...

Two affluent nobles, bickering in the most unlikely of places.

One was a rare Celtic lord under Vortigern's command, while the other was a vassal of King Uther. Though they belonged to opposing factions and should have been at each other's throats, they only yelled, faces flushed with anger, without drawing their swords.

As the argument heated up, their eyes took on a strange pink hue. Kaelar narrowed his eyes. The familiar, eerie light seemed to spark a memory.

It was—no, it couldn't be—Merlin's doing! (Spoiler: it wasn't.)

Of course, Merlin would never stoop to something like this. Clearly, something sinister was at play.

Artoria, standing at his side, frowned, her sacred blue-green eyes filled with caution. "Kael, something feels off. Be careful. It might be some kind of magical beast!"

Artoria's power was not yet at its peak. If it were, with her Red Dragon bloodline, even Cath Palug would have no place to hide before her. But for now, her A-ranked instincts were all she could rely on against the creature at its zenith, wielding the "Principle of Comparison."

"Heh... just a kitten's little trick."

To those less attuned, nothing seemed amiss, but Kaelar was different. He had sworn the most fearsome of oaths, binding his desires with the Geis of absolute self-control. His perception had been honed to a razor's edge.

Where others saw two squabbling nobles, Kaelar's eyes pierced deeper. His vision split the world into layers of perception—the physical and the spiritual, where a dim grayness was only illuminated by the lights of souls.

The nobles' spirits burned faintly—ordinary flames, devoid of heroic potential. Flecks of green hinted at kindness, while overwhelming crimson spoke of sin.

Typical for nobles of this era—some small semblance of virtue, but more inclined toward vice.

But there was another presence—a far brighter soul, crouched on a tree branch. A cat, elegantly grooming itself, watching the argument with a disdainful expression.

Cath Palug—the Three-Eyed Demon Cat, the nascent Beast of Comparison.

Of course, she had yet to become a true Beast, one that could annihilate humanity. Yet her twisted "love" for humans had already begun to seep into the world.

No doubt about it—Cath Palug loved humanity. Comparison was a human trait, and without humanity, comparison had no meaning. As the Beast of Comparison, she cherished humanity as a whole.

Like all Beasts, she loved "humanity" itself, but that love, when focused on an individual, was so warped it would drive them mad.

For now, the Demon Cat watched as the two men's argument grew more heated, grinning with a twisted satisfaction.

Normally, when disputes reached this intensity, swords would be drawn long before now. Yet these men had abandoned everything else, lost in a futile struggle to prove themselves superior.

Cath Palug, the calamity that could never truly be defeated—the "Beast of Comparison" who thrived on human competition, envy, and ambition.

As long as humanity compared, as long as they harbored envy or desire for self-improvement, the Beast of Comparison would remain undefeatable.

Kaelar had seen enough. Stepping through the brush, he met the curious, probing gaze of the cat and called out to the arguing men:

"Let me ask you—who among you is stronger than Kaelar?"

Since neither could achieve an absolute victory, Kaelar would end the conflict himself.

Who was stronger than Kaelar?

"Ka... Kaelar?"

The nobles' bellowing came to a halt. The pink glow in their eyes dimmed, and they both stammered in unison, "You mean the Kaelar? The Saint who single-handedly defeated seventy thousand Saxons?"

"Precisely. That Kaelar," he replied calmly. "So, who among you is stronger than me?"

Despite the Beast's influence, the men could not bring themselves to claim superiority over Kaelar. Reluctantly, they admitted, "No one is stronger than Kaelar..."

"But I only need to be stronger than him!"

Kaelar, who had intended to end the dispute then and there, nearly stumbled at the unexpected response. With a sigh, he stated, "I am Kaelar! And even if you're stronger than the other, so what? I am still stronger than both of you!"

The declaration sent a ripple through his soul—barely perceptible, yet enough to disturb his otherwise tranquil spirit. It was fleeting, a small stone dropped in the vast lake of his mind, leaving ripples that quickly faded.

Cath Palug's eyes lit up with excitement, her little face animated with an expression of delight Kaelar had never seen in a cat before.

The pink glow in her eyes deepened as if she had feasted, stretching with a contented yawn.

Even a momentary embrace of the "Principle of Comparison" had been a feast for the Beast, but to her disappointment, she found no further sustenance within Kaelar's soul. No ambition, no arrogance—nothing to drive her twisted love forward.

For now, Cath Palug remained content, but had she fed on Kaelar's emotions, she might have grown closer to her ultimate form—the Beast that humanity would never conquer.