Type-Moon: The Human Love Simulator

In Avalon, Merlin was enjoying a leisurely chat with one of the leaders of the Faeries of the Lake, Viviane.

As the future benefactor of King Arthur, Viviane was hardly a newcomer to these matters. She was likely one of the first Faeries of Avalon to interact with the Celts.

"Viviane, how is your foster son faring?" Merlin asked directly. "Ector's son is quite extraordinary, and Arthur's circle needs to be formidable enough."

Viviane shot her a sidelong glance, a knowing smile gracing her face as she reclined with an air of nobility. "How strange. You, a mischievous succubus, showing such hostility toward someone? What did he do to provoke you?"

Resting her chin on her hand, Viviane's pale figure shimmered just beneath the lake's surface, teasingly adding, "Did that charming boy catch you in a compromising position?"

"…" Merlin cleared her throat, feigning seriousness. "There are things I can't explain to you. After all, I'm just a humble Dream Demon."

Merlin, a half-demon hybrid, was more of a by-the-book drifter. She strictly followed the path foretold by fate, never allowing herself independent thoughts or desires.

After all, humans were far more consumed by desire than demons could ever be. Demons were, in many ways, much simpler.

In short, Merlin was a clock-punching employee who did her job according to the fate laid out for her, letting destiny guide her every action.

Yet, this time, she had come to Viviane to discuss one particular person?

"This time, it's a little different..." Merlin sighed, shaking her head. "Does my hostility really show that clearly? Even Kaelar hasn't noticed."

"Hah~ Or perhaps he's chosen not to call you out on it," Viviane teased. "What did you see, Merlin?"

"A lot…"

Merlin's eyes dimmed as she lowered her gaze. "But every single one of them goes against 'fate.'"

"You poor thing..."

Viviane shook her head, rising from the lake. Her upper body, naked and stunning, dripped with water as her hair clung wetly to her snow-white back, making her appear even more breathtaking.

But it was a pity that Merlin, an emotionless and disinterested archmage, remained utterly unmoved by the view.

"Merlin, if you keep obsessing over your so-called 'prophecies' and the infallibility of 'fate,' you're bound to regret it someday."

Viviane's voice held the wisdom of an elder, and indeed, she was the eldest among the Faeries of the Lake.

Facing Viviane's wise gaze, Merlin responded with a detached shake of her head. "Viviane, fate is always correct. And besides, you haven't seen Kaelar yourself. He's... a holy figure twisted by his own desires."

Someone who placed his will above all of humanity, someone who believed his decisions transcended the sum of human choices, and who had the absolute conviction to carry out his own will.

With such immense desire, wasn't he a saint?

Yet, with such overwhelming righteousness, arrogance, and ambition, wasn't he also twisted?

Viviane gave a half-smile. "Who would understand that kind of talk? But speaking of which, Morgan Le Fay returned recently. I heard she's pretty familiar with Kaelar. Why don't you ask her for her opinion?"

Merlin scratched her pale arm instinctively, then, with a hint of irritation, exclaimed, "Viviane! You wicked woman! You just want to see me squirm, don't you?"

"Don't underestimate my information network!"

Morgan was... complicated. If it were possible, it was best to stay far away from her...

"Hahaha~" Viviane's laughter echoed before she grew serious again. "As for Lancelot... I think he went home to find his younger brother. What was his brother's name?"

"E-c-t-o-r… Ector?"

Viviane nodded, repeating the name. "Yes, that's the one... Odd, isn't it, Merlin? Didn't you just come from Ector's place?"

"Oh! Merlin, you didn't see this in your so-called infallible prophecy?"

Merlin's face turned a shade paler. "I'm done with this!" she growled, lunging at Viviane and tugging at her smooth, delicate cheeks.

"You—wicked—woman! I'll get you for this!"

In the end, Merlin was unceremoniously tossed out of Avalon. Rubbing her sore backside where Viviane had pinched her, she muttered to herself, "Another error in the prophecy… Lancelot wasn't supposed to show up at this point!"

"It's true. Fate is a delicate web, easily unraveled. And it all seems to center around Kaelar."

"Though, it's just another branch of possibilities…"

Lancelot and Ector were brothers, both possessing blood ties to Britannia's royal lineage. That was why Ector held the position of Uther's Chamberlain. In this land, where blood and family connections were valued above all, only kin could stand among the kingdom's elite.

Historically, the Round Table of King Arthur was more of a "Round Table of Relatives." Those with titles were almost always family—siblings, cousins, uncles, or even elders.

"This works out. My goal is achieved, at least."

Merlin's gaze grew distant, focused on the horizon. "Cath Palug must have met them by now. Arthur… you don't know. You have no idea what I've seen."

"He will betray you. That man... will betray you."

Kaelar, unaware of Merlin's scheming, would likely have a good laugh if he knew. He'd probably pull out Merlin's most embarrassing secrets and share them with everyone for a good chuckle.

If Kaelar were privy to Merlin's thoughts, he'd no doubt mock her for her foolishness and ignorance.

Merlin was like a reader who had fallen into the story, believing in the inevitability of the plot while simultaneously claiming it had changed. How did that make sense?

It didn't. It was stupid.

At that moment, Kaelar was playing with Fou's pink ears. The little creature, who constantly mewed "Fou, Fou," had been christened with that name. To keep the tiny Beast fed, Artoria even sacrificed a small slice of her daily meat ration.

But alas, Fou didn't eat meat. As the Beast of Comparison, she only fed on human jealousy, regret, growth, and competition.

Kaelar tugged Fou's ears, issuing a stern warning: "Listen up, little furball. Don't go causing trouble with your comparison games, or I'll fry up some cat meat!"

"Fou…" Fou's mewl was feeble as she waved her paws in helpless protest.

"Hmph! Protests won't help you!" Kaelar chuckled. "You think you can escape from me, little cat? You can't!"

"Kael, stop teasing her! You're going to make Fou cry…" Artoria sighed, exasperated by Kaelar's childish antics. Even after all these years, he hadn't outgrown this bad habit!

In their younger days, Kaelar loved to tease Artoria until she was on the verge of tears. Now that she was older and wiser, his pranks had diminished, but he still had a mischievous streak.

The Saint Kaelar who had once declared his teachings to the world seemed a far cry from the man now teasing a cat...

Kaelar's Limited Edition Saint Skin.

But his default appearance? Just a playful prankster, always finding new ways to tease the little cat.

"Heh, today I'm teasing the kitty again~!"