Fate: Typemoon - My Dragon Knight

Perhaps it wasn't his imagination. But at least among the Round Table Knights, there shouldn't be anyone with abilities related to crows. Besides, this was just the periphery of their defensive line; the village was still deep within the mountains. The crows seemed to have returned to normal, and there was no need to kill them now. He hoped the person behind this had no ill intentions.

For some reason, Arash suddenly thought of the witch they had a brief encounter with before. It seemed that besides their resistance forces, everyone else was more or less related to that King. Arash, who had been exposed to novels and TV dramas in the modern era, had the inexplicable feeling of being caught in a family drama. But that seemed rather interesting, probably... After all, even a cheerful big brother can be captivated by the plot of a TV show or novel.

Although a little over a day didn't seem like much time, Aslan wasn't so ruthless as to set up a projector in every single dilapidated city. It was enough to place projectors in a few of the more densely populated cities. The survivors would naturally spread what they saw and heard.

Fortunately, he had descended as a Servant this time. Even if he didn't sleep for a whole night, it wouldn't be a problem. He used half the night to prepare all the instruments.

Before the sky had brightened, all the Servants were already rushing towards the Holy City. After arriving, they would probably only have half a day to hide their identities.

Passing through vast stretches of cities that could be described as scrapped, they arrived at an open area. The Holy City was right before their eyes. Radiant, holy, and immense. Large numbers of Purge Knights patrolled the city walls. The brilliant gate stood tall and unyielding. At a glance, it was indeed very attractive. If he were an ordinary person, he would probably also seek the protection of this city's master.

In front of that city, the Sun Knight, Gawain, would be guarding the gate. No one could enter that city without his permission. And Gawain, who had once caused his King to walk such a lonely path due to his own willfulness, now swore to defend this place to the death.

This time, Aslan was also recalling with great interest the disguise he had used the first time he snuck into Camelot. This time, he would let Gawain properly recall the dark history of being taken out in one kick. He would show Gawain that even with the "Gift of the Nightless," he still couldn't stop his advance!

Putting all his weapons and equipment into his Mystic Code, he changed his hair to brown and his eyes to a common brownish-black. Compared to before, Aslan even gave himself a tan and dotted his face with freckles to make himself look more like the people of this region. From a distance, his identity might not be discovered, but if they were face-to-face...

Hehehe~

Aslan was suddenly a little curious about what kind of expression Gawain would make. If he could broadcast Gawain's expression, and then take a screenshot of it... if he ever had the chance to meet the normal Gawain and showed him this screenshot, it would surely be another kind of fun.

"Ahahaha! My dear nephew Gawain, your uncle... hmm, or is it great-uncle? Anyway, your elder is here to give you a gift."

While the group was rushing to the outskirts of Camelot, in other cities with more survivors, one after another, the "children from the mountains" arrived with projectors. The arrival of these people did not arouse the curiosity of the local residents. After all, in this world at this time, there were simply too many people without a fixed home. However, while they were setting up the projection screens, they still attracted the curiosity and attention of some people.

"Young man, what are you doing?"

The young man setting up the projector wiped the sweat from his head. "My master said this is something that will let us see the Holy Selection in that Holy City of Camelot. Just think of it as a Clairvoyance device."

Upon hearing the young man's words, the old man who had asked the question had a look of envy in his eyes. "If it weren't for my old age, I would have wanted to try for the Holy Selection too. A pity, on such a long journey, I would probably die on the way. I might as well stay here and cling to life."

The young man said nothing. Mr. Arash had already told them the truth of the Holy Selection, so they no longer held any expectations for that King. But these people were different. Wasn't this old man just like their past selves who knew nothing? At least in the past, they could still rely on Old Man Hassan. But it didn't matter. Soon, the truth of the Holy Selection would be made public. At that time, they, the young ones, would have to take on the task of comforting these old people. For most survivors, that Holy City was their last hope. The shattering of hope was not something one could calm down from just by being told to.

After a few adjustments, an image appeared on the screen.

It was already afternoon. The projected image began to approach the outskirts of the Holy City of Camelot, the ruins of what was once the holy city of Jerusalem. A great many people who wanted to pass the Holy Selection were gathered in these ruins. Of course, many were also just gathered here in the hopes of receiving protection. Because of the Holy Selection, a complete service chain had even appeared here. Just as Aslan and his group arrived, someone had asked if they needed a guide to introduce the basic situation here. The reward was just a piece of hard bread and a cup of water.

Although the original Jerusalem was very prosperous, a new city had been built on its ruins. It was very difficult to find food and water in the ruins where they were. Even if they were found, they were scarce resources. Children like them, without elders, had no way of competing for the locations where resources were.

Where there are people, there is a "jianghu" (a world of conflict). Even though they were all refugees gathered here, the situation of the strong oppressing the weak still existed. This was human nature, and also the reason why, out of hundreds of people... alright... not even one qualified candidate could be found. Holy and flawless, kind and righteous—how many people could achieve that? Apart from children, probably only those who could be called little saints.

However, because the Holy Selection was not carried out in full view of the public—the gates were closed, and it was surrounded by city walls—everyone except those who passed the selection would be burned to death by the sun's instantaneous attack. Perhaps in the eyes of those living in these ruins, the people who went for the selection had all already entered the Holy City.

After all... no one ever came back, right? Not even those who had promised, "If I pass the selection, I'll definitely come back and tell my friends." But that must be because life inside the city was too good, and they weren't allowed to go out casually.