Melusine, Become my Noble Phantasm!

In fact, the Lion King's actions were not difficult to understand. After all, she was simply acting to ensure the survival of the human species. She could be certain that even if human nature was destroyed, the humans protected within the Holy Spear could continue to exist forever.

Aslan and his companions — or more precisely, the Chaldean side — were chosen by human nature itself. Their approach was to save the vast majority of humans, no matter the final outcome.

As the saying goes, maybe your approach can protect the majority, while mine protects only a few — but can you afford that gamble? To bet the survival of the entire human race on your claim that you can save more?

If it weren't for the doctor's self-sacrifice, perhaps humanity and human reason would have truly vanished. Sometimes, only by standing in the shoes of those involved — rather than as a bystander — can one understand how difficult such choices are. No matter how often you want to choose the latter, you must ask yourself: Are you really ready?

Be prepared that if you fail, all of humanity will disappear, and be prepared to bear the responsibility for the survival of mankind.

If he hadn't known the ending of this game, Aslan couldn't say which side he would have chosen.

But now that he knew the Magic King would be defeated, he definitely would not accept the outcome where only a handful of humans survive as specimens.

Looking at Morgan ahead, performing magic on his adopted daughter Mordred, Aslan couldn't help but glance at him more than once. How to put it — Morgan now looked like someone he had never seen before.

Aslan had seen Morgan's virtual personality, and the witch in her crazed state — but never like this, calm and carrying such an aura.

Arash scratched his head and looked at the witch who had not been so pleasant to communicate with before, asking curiously, "This doesn't look like the way back to the Eastern Mountains. Where are we headed next?"

Morgan looked back at Arash. Though tempted to roll her eyes, she resisted. Then, with her pale blue eyes, she glanced at Aslan. "Of course, we're going to find a good place and build our own city. With me here, there's no need to hide. We just have to tell the Lion King in Camelot —

We are here!"

Here, we'll protect and dominate civilians in our own way. What will you do? Surely, you'll send a large force to encircle and suppress us. After all, the Lion King sees humans as tools, not lives.

But building a city isn't easy. First, the geography must be favorable; second, there must be sufficient resources. Though for Morgan, building a city is as simple as waving her hand and using magic — water and food aren't necessities for her — they remain vital for ordinary people.

Since these people submit to me and choose to be dominated by me, they become my property. As a royal aristocrat, I must cherish my property.

Therefore, the new city must be defensible, have access to water, and be suitable for farming.

At once, Morgan thought of a place.

Along the way to the new city, their sizable army absorbed more ordinary residents. From the sky, it would look like a sea of people. As this continued, Arash and the Hassans grew increasingly alert to the possibility of sneak attacks — after all, a powerful strike now would cause massive casualties.

Yet it seemed the Lion King had no intention of acting before the new city was finished. Or perhaps she simply lacked the time.

In any case, everyone finally arrived at an area lush with vegetation.

It was a ruined city, but compared to the heavily damaged ones, this city was relatively intact, with many Catholic decorations still visible.

Aslan frowned slightly at the surroundings. This place seemed familiar.

Morgan noticed his expression — or rather, she chose this place because she saw Aslan's reaction. After all, besides herself, Aslan could soothe and gather ordinary people. As a ruler, she wouldn't miss such an advantage.

"Does it look familiar? This place began to flourish over 1,000 years ago. For a long time, it was a city cherished by Catholics. The city was built to honor the Paladin Aslan. According to records, the Paladin faced unimaginable enemies while killing demons along the way, so he could no longer safely bring his followers with him.

He arranged for his followers to settle in this beautiful, fertile land. I came here hundreds of years ago, and this small holy city was truly prosperous."

She didn't expect that in this world, the city would also fall to ruin — which was a bit sad.

But its ruin was inevitable. This holy city should not have existed in the original timeline, shaped as it was by Aslan's influence. Now, in this singularity, it lay in ruins. After history corrects itself, the city might slowly decline further — located as it is in a region devoted to Allah — and eventually become a mere historical record.

"So that's how it is. This is the Small Holy City. Even now, it's more complete than many other areas."

Such words escaped the crowd. Aslan turned his head away, a little embarrassed. How to say it? After all, more than 1,000 years have passed, and Aslan has grown from a mischievous boy into a man over a millennium old — though he still held a bit of mischief. When he praised this city, he always felt the weight of a dark past.

What's more, I'm just fooling people in the name of the Lord.

Morgan did not continue teasing him. Instead, she raised her staff high. Magic surged forth, and the city began to rapidly restore itself, with many British-style decorations reappearing.

This soaring magic was no secret. Morgan wanted to let the Lion King in Camelot know — she was ready, and the fight could begin at any time.

-End Chapter-

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