After Unlocking All CGs, My Type-Moon Girlfriend Came Knocking

In a space detached from the battlefield, Alvin looked up at the old man before him, speaking in a calm, measured tone.

"So, what exactly do you want from me, Mr. Kischur?"

The old man paused, clearly surprised by the name before his brows lifted in curiosity.

"You know who I am?"

Alvin shrugged.

"You mentioned you've been watching me for a while, and you referenced the Clock Tower… So naturally, I thought of the higher-ups tied to it."

"My mentor is Kayneth El-Melloi, and I've seen most of the Lords within the Tower. But I've never seen you before."

"So… I had to assume you're tied to the Directorate itself."

The old man, the one known in legend as the wielder of the Second Magic, Kischur Zelretch Schweinorg, the Kaleidoscope, rubbed his chin, watching Alvin with growing amusement, before speaking.

"Even with all that, it's not an easy leap to my true identity."

"After all, I'm not the current Director."

Alvin offered a faint smile.

"The current Director is much like you, rarely seen and impossible to grasp.

Which is why the Tower is effectively managed by the Law of the Crown's Lord, Miss Barthomeloi."

"As for why I could guess who you are… well, maybe because even the current Director doesn't carry the kind of pressure you give off."

Even in this age of gods and legends, where Alvin could assume the form of the White Dragon and wield brutal strength, the man standing before him, Zelretch, the Kaleidoscope, still exuded an aura that made him cautious.

After all, this was the man who once went toe-to-toe with the Crimson Moon and lived.

Of course, all of Alvin's logical deductions were just convenient bluffing.

There was no way he could just say:

"Well, in my past life I played a gacha game where you were a busted SSR Mystic Code. Starting with 80 NP and all. How could I forget your old mug?"

But Zelretch seemed convinced enough.

His sharp eyes held a rare hint of approval as he gave Alvin another once-over.

"To think the modern Clock Tower still has students like you… I used to worry it might collapse under its own internal strife one day."

Alvin gave a nonchalant smile.

"The Tower is more resilient than it looks."

Not to mention, there were powerhouses like Aoko Aozaki, the Fifth Magician, and even his own mentor, Kayneth, whose talents were constantly underestimated.

In fact, one particular theory from the original timeline speculated that if Kayneth hadn't died during the Holy Grail War, he could've potentially solved the planet's existential crisis—the rise of the Steel World, a threat even Gaia feared.

Far-fetched?

Maybe.

But it proved that Kayneth's genius was anything but ordinary.

Zelretch paused, stroking his beard in thought, before smiling again.

"Perhaps you're right. Maybe I don't need to worry about the Tower's future after all."

However, at some point, his smile faded slightly.

"But still… if that woman isn't dealt with, there might not be a future left for any of us."

As Zelretch spoke his last words, he glanced toward a direction beyond this isolated space, as though sensing something.

Seeing Alvin remain silent, he couldn't help but raise a brow.

"Aren't you curious about her identity?"

Alvin blinked. "You mean the Widow?"

Zelretch frowned. "The what now?"

"Nothing," Alvin waved it off with a laugh. "Just a tiny joke. You were saying..."

"I don't actually know all that much about her," Zelretch said, with a hint of regret in his voice. "Only that she's the origin of the True Ancestors. Her body's nearly impossible to destroy."

"With both both Artoria and Morgan present, I doubt she'll succeed in her plans today. But truly killing her? That's another matter entirely."

It was a fair point, after all, as the progenitor of all True Ancestors, Arcueid Brunsteid's regenerative abilities were off the charts.

That's exactly why Alvin was so curious: in the original timeline, just how had this old man, the wielder of the Second Magic, actually managed to defeat her?

"You didn't come all this way just to say hi, did you?" Alvin asked suddenly.

Zelretch chuckled. "Partly, yes. But I also need a favor."

He narrowed his eyes at Alvin.

"Unless I'm wrong, you're heading into the fight now, aren't you? If she doesn't die today, I'd like you to pass along any information you gather."

"I'll handle the rest myself."

Hearing that, Alvin remembered a question that had always bugged him in his past life:

Why did Zelretch even fight Arcueid in the first place?

Out of curiosity, he asked,

"You don't even know her personally. Why go through the trouble of taking her down?"

Zelretch looked at him flatly.

"You ever seen a smug woman dancing around in front of your face like she owns the place?

Doesn't it annoy the hell out of you?"

Alvin fell silent.

…That's it?

He had expected something nobler.

Like "to protect the planet" or something.

Then again, this was Zelretch.

He was eccentric by design.

There was a decent chance he just didn't feel like telling the whole truth or maybe this was the whole truth, who knows.

Of course, why he wanted to fight her wasn't important.

What mattered was that he wouldn't be making a move right now anyway.

Alvin waved it off.

"You don't need to worry about Arcueid."

"I'll be the one handling her."

Zelretch arched a brow, intrigued.

"Oh? Confident, aren't we?"

Sure, Alvin was the White Dragon of Britain… but Arcueid was from the Moon. A living UO, essentially.

Not exactly someone you underestimate.

Alvin gave a wry smile.

"Honestly? I'm not that confident."

"She's the origin of the True Ancestors. I've no idea how far her regeneration goes. I'll need some way to keep myself alive if things go bad…"

Zelretch, the man who had once battled her to a bloody stalemate in canon, clearly had more than a few tricks up his sleeve.

And if Alvin could get just one of those…

Zelretch, of course, could see right through him.

The old man shook his head, exasperated.

'This brat's already scheming to loot my inventory, huh…?'

Even so, he flicked a bright red gem toward Alvin.

Whoosh!

Alvin's reflexes were quick and he snatched it from the air in one clean motion.

The gem was crystal-clear, larger than most, nearly the size of a palm.

The reflective surface shimmered, almost like a mirror.

"That's a Kaleidoscope shard," Zelretch said.

"It can draw certain skills from parallel worlds and even alter your outfit.

Of course, without understanding the Second Magic, your access is limited."

"But in a pinch, you can swap yourself with the 'Gem Puppet' within it. It might just save your life."

Alvin stared at the gem.

…So basically a substitution technique, huh?

He rubbed his chin thoughtfully and focused his thoughts—and in an instant, the black cloak on his body shimmered and morphed, changing its cut, material, and design.

'Oh nice,' Alvin thought.

'So it's also a walking wardrobe? And customizable too?'

It was kind of gimmicky…

But imagine handing this thing to Morgan or Artoria…

Cosplay-on-demand.

Black stockings, white lace, fishnets, my god..tsk tsk..

"...Right, I should hurry and check on the battlefield."

With some not-so honest images floating across his mind, Alvin tucked the Kaleidoscope gem away, then turned and nodded to Zelretch.

"Thanks. I'll handle things from here."

"You sure you're ready?" the old man asked suddenly.

Alvin paused for a moment and said with a grin.

"Absolutely."

"Guaranteed win."

Well… unless Arcueid somehow saw through his disguise.

If she were to discover his true identity, it would indeed be troublesome.

But with his unique authority as [Night's Watch EX] allowing him to conceal his presence, even Crimson Moon wouldn't be able to recognize him—if he so wished.

And just to be safe, he had prepared this before coming…

Alvin pulled out a white mask from his robes and slowly put it on.

---

Meanwhile.

Whoosh!

Artoria swung her holy sword, and with a flash of golden light, the blade's radiance seemed capable of splitting even the blood-red moon hanging in the sky.

Arcueid Brunsteid stood in her pristine white gown, cold and regal, the fabric fluttering in the wind to reveal glimpses of her flawless, unblemished feet, as though untouched by the dust of the world.

Facing the holy sword's edge, she parted her crimson lips and began an incantation, ancient, cryptic syllables that seemed to pull at the very mana in the air.

Then—

The sky itself seemed to collapse.

The blood-red moon grew larger and larger, as though it were descending upon Britain, pressing down on both Morgan and Artoria!

—Moonfall!

She had directly projected the moon's image onto Britain, exerting overwhelming pressure on both sisters.

Though not the true, full-powered [Moonfall], its might was still terrifying.

At the same time, beneath the blood moon, countless crimson eyes snapped open.

Vampires.

Their skin was withered and pale, their consciousness seemingly lost as they rained down from the sky, shrieking as they lunged at Artoria.

Just then—

A golden beam of light blasted forth from behind Artoria!

She instinctively turned her head.

Gawain, wielding his solar-infused holy sword, charged into battle alongside Lancelot and Agravain!

Lancelot rushed to Tristan's side. "Where's Galahad?!"

Nearby, Mordred was equally frantic. "Where's my father?!"

"We found something during our investigation, so I had Galahad stay behind at the vessel. I was planning to report to the King first, but then I ran into her…"

Tristan's voice trailed off as he cast a wary glance at the golden-haired woman beneath the blood moon.

"Be careful. This woman… might be even stronger than Vortigern."

The words sent a shock through the group.

The final battle against Vortigern had nearly wiped out the Round Table.

The scars of that fight still lingered in their hearts.

And this woman was stronger than him?

"Where's Alvin?" Mordred demanded.

Then, Tristan dropped another bombshell.

"The good news is… Lady Morgan is on the King's side."

For a moment, the knights' minds went blank.

That single sentence hit them like a thunderclap.

This revelation was more shocking than anything they had ever heard.

Lancelot was so stunned he momentarily forgot about the overwhelming enemy before them.

Morgan's twisted, dark nature and Artoria's radiant righteousness had made them polar opposites since birth—bitter rivals from the start.

So Tristan's "Morgan is allied with the King" hit them like a tidal wave, overturning everything they thought they knew.

Bedivere's face went slack.

Kay opened his mouth but couldn't speak.

Even Agravain's perpetually grim expression shifted as he stared in disbelief at Morgan, who stood behind Artoria, weaving spells.

Only Mordred remained focused, gritting her teeth. "So where *is* Alvin? Is he hurt?!"

Tristan shook his head.

"He's not here… I don't know where he went."

Mordred let out a quiet breath of relief.

For the rebellious knight, Britain's fate mattered little, only the safety of those she cared about.

At least he wasn't here.

After all, this True Ancestor was holding her own against both Morgan and Artoria.

No matter how you looked at it, she was a nightmare to deal with.

'But what is her goal' Mordred suddenly wondered.

"Enough talk. We need to aid the King!"

Lancelot's voice snapped them back to reality.

His sword, now infused with unique mana, gleamed as he charged toward the endless tide of vampires descending from the blood moon.

"Don't let them bite you! They'll turn you into one of them!" Artoria shouted in warning.

"No need to worry. While the Round Table is special, your mana still tastes no different from modern mages."

Crimson Moon's gown billowed as she coldly surveyed the battlefield, her gaze settling on Morgan and Artoria.

"Compared to your knights… I'm far more interested in *your* mana."

She could sense it—the unique quality of the sisters' magic.

It was… worth savoring.

Her right hand lifted as she murmured another incantation.

Then—

Her figure blurred.

Vanished.

Artoria's eyes darted around, her instincts sharp.

"Sister—behind you!"

But Morgan didn't react.

She stood perfectly still.

Behind her, Crimson Moon materialized like a ghost, then sank her fangs into Morgan's slender neck.

There was no resistance.

As the vampire's sharp teeth pierced Morgan's flawless skin, an intoxicating rush of mana flooded into Crimson Moon through her blood.

For the first time in centuries—

Arcueid Brunsteid's eyes widened and a *thrill* shot through her.

Vampires, even True Ancestors, were exquisitely sensitive to the quality of blood.

To them, blood was like a gourmet dish—its flavor, freshness, and potency determined its worth.

And in all her existence…

She had never tasted anything like this.

This was no mere human, elf, or even divine blood—it was a fusion of all three, a delicacy beyond compare.

Her crimson eyes gleamed with desire.

If she turned Morgan into a vampire…

Wouldn't she get to savor this every day?

Just as Arcueid was thinking about this, she suddenly heard Morgan's cold and slightly seductive voice softly echo beside her ear.

"Are you trying to perform the [Embrace]… and turn me into a vampire?"

At some unknown point, shadows had begun surging violently from Morgan's body, rapidly enveloping Arcueid.

Arcueid's pupils contracted sharply.

These shadows—they absorb magical energy!

Sensing danger, she quickly retreated, lifting her head.

And her exquisitely cold face was now filled with astonishment.

"Why…? Why is the First Embrace ineffective on you?"

Anyone bitten by her—so long as she willed it, could be immediately turned into her blood-bound kin.

Except for that man back in the Millennium Castle.

But that was purely because he had been gravely ill, and coupled with his strong insistence, Arcueid had chosen not to turn him with the First Embrace.

However... Morgan le Fay was the most unique person Arcueid had ever encountered.

The woman was completely immune to the First Embrace.

Morgan sneered coldly, "Did I forget to mention it? I'm also a fairy. Something as low as a vampire—how could you possibly influence my will?"

As she spoke, Arcueid suddenly felt something was wrong with her body.

When she tried to invoke her magic, she felt another force of magic interfering, wildly disrupting her own magical flow.

"You're probably feeling your magic getting chaotic, aren't you?" Morgan's cold and beautiful face, hidden beneath the veil, revealed a smug, satisfied smile.

"Fairy blood isn't something you can just drink casually."

This woman… let me bite her on purpose?!

Arcueid's eyes flashed with cold fury—but sensing her own magical instability, she held herself back and didn't immediately retaliate.

After all, King Artoria was still beside them, sword at the ready, clearly waiting for a chance to strike.

The top priority was to first stabilize her own magical circuits...

She needed a quick replenishment.

Anyone would do.

Arcueid secretly scanned the area, and under the light of the blood moon overhead, she spotted a black-robed youth slowly walking toward them from the distance.

"…Looks like I arrived at the perfect time."

As he saw the battlefield situation, the young man felt a small sigh of relief.

He knew Arcueid possessed a unique kind of magecraft—one with an enormous range of destructive power.

However, judging by the surroundings, it seemed she hadn't used it yet.

"Alvin—!"

Artoria's anxious voice suddenly rang out from afar.

The boy paused for a moment and immediately sensed something approaching from behind.

As he turned his head, he saw a pair of crimson eyes staring silently at him.

Arcueid Brunsteid

And the next moment—

She bit into his neck.