Typemoon: Starting Out as the Lion King's Personal Knight

Credits: LothWolf

"What exactly is that?"

Mash gazed at the massive ring-shaped mountain range in the wilderness, voicing her doubt.

It had been an hour since they had bid farewell to Lancelot and officially entered the mountains, but Mash had already seen numerous ring-shaped craters scattered between the wilderness and the mountain range.

They didn't look natural at all.

"Meteorites?"

Ritsuka Fujimaru attempted to use her impressive intelligence to speculate on the origin of the formations.

Standing nearby, Alaric turned his head and said, "That's the King—the Lion King's holy judgment, brought down using the Holy Lance to strike at the mountain people and rebel groups."

"Exactly, exactly! Sir Knight is completely right! Every day, a beam of light shoots out of the Holy City with a bang, hitting the ground and creating these things!"

Rushd, a young boy, who had grown noticeably livelier since entering the mountains, added excitedly.

"Wha—what? All of this was caused by a Noble Phantasm?"

Mash's eyes widened in disbelief, as though struggling to comprehend the enormity of the statement.

["The Lion King must be indiscriminately using this super-powerful Noble Phantasm. It's just like Solomon's light bands in the sky. That would explain why the magical energy in the atmosphere is so unnaturally dense,"] came Dr. Roman's shocked voice.

"This is unbelievable. This land—quite literally—is on the verge of destruction at the hands of the Lion King!"

At that moment, a nearby refugee overheard Mash and Alaric's conversation. As if coming to a realization, he said, "So that's it. You didn't know about the Lion King's punishments. That's why you resist her..."

After pausing, the male refugee continued hesitantly, "No, I'm sorry. Even if you knew, you'd still help us, right? That, at least, I understand. But please try to see it from our perspective—we have nowhere left to go. The holy judgments fall unpredictably across the wilderness. If we enter the desert, we'll be devoured by the Sun King's beasts. Even in these relatively safer barren mountains, there's no food to be found. We only tried heading toward the Holy City because we wanted to survive. And now, even that path is gone."

"—That's exactly it. There's no place for them on this land," Alaric, who had been quietly listening to the refugees' plight, nodded solemnly.

He could not change any of this. If change was to come, it could only come from the Lion King herself. Only by altering the source could the people of this Singularity have any hope of survival.

"I see... Although I'd heard rumors, I didn't imagine things had gotten this bad," Bedivere said, his expression darkening. Every evil act committed by the Lion King felt like a blade piercing his heart—one he could not pull out.

It was his sin.

"The Round Table has already fallen, and the King has transformed into a demon surpassing Vortigern. The Lion King, ruling from the Holy City, is an unforgivable existence. She is the evil that all people on this land must defeat."

However, after uttering this conclusion, Bedivere seemed utterly drained of vitality.

Even Mash wore a heavy expression.

After confirming the true name of the Heroic Spirit within her, Mash's emotions toward the Round Table had become apparent. Whether it was feedback from Galahad's spirit origin or her own heart, it filled her with true and undeniable sorrow.

"We can't win. You haven't seen the King's power. The Lion King has become a god. Unless she decides not to fight, you currently lack the qualifications to defeat her," Alaric said bluntly, delivering a harsh dose of reality.

These words made the already somber atmosphere even heavier.

But not far away, Da Vinci silently observed Alaric's back. Even when he mentioned topics that piqued her curiosity, she did not join the conversation.

"Sir Alaric, can you share your understanding of the Lion King's power?"

Remaining calm, Ritsuka Fujimaru seized the moment to gather more information.

"The Lion King? She's super strong—just one shot from her Holy Lance can level Jerusalem," Alaricn recalled, his mind replaying the dazzling light he had witnessed many times over the past six months.

It was utterly mesmerizing.

"Hmm?"

Alaric suddenly noticed something, his gaze swiftly scanning the surroundings.

This startled Ritsuka Fujimaru, who had been about to ask further questions. She immediately reacted, "Doctor, are there any magical signatures?"

["Huh? What—"]

Dr. Roman's confused reply was abruptly cut off by Mash's warning: "Master! It's a Servant signature."

["I didn't sense anything! Is it an Assassin-class Servant? Be careful, Ritsuka Fujimaru!"]

Amid Roman's shocked outcry, a tall figure emerged before Mash, Ritsuka Fujimaru, and the others.

With a single deformed arm wrapped in heavy bandages, the nearly two-meter-tall figure somehow exuded a sense of eerie lightness.

Unlike the tense Mash and the others, Alaric casually approached the unexpected Servant.

Under their bewildered gazes—

"It's been a while, Cursed Arm Hassan!"

Alaric greeted him nonchalantly, as if they were old friends, prompting Mash to look at him with admiration.

"Incredible! Sir Alaric seems to have friends wherever he goes! King Ozymandias, the Knights of the Round Table, even the Mountain People!"

To Mash, it seemed there wasn't anyone in this Singularity whom Alaric didn't know.

Even Bedivere and Ritsuka Fujimaru were surprised by Alaric's extensive network of connections.

"Lord Alaric, what's going on here?"

Cursed Arm Hassan asked, confused, as he looked at the refugees. "We should still have enough supplies for a few more days. Where did all these people come from? And that knight—if I'm not mistaken, he's one of yours, right?"

Cursed Arm Hassan was, of course, referring to Bedivere in his knightly attire. After the Crusaders were destroyed, the Round Table knights only existed in the Holy City. Bedivere's outfit made it clear at a glance that he was a knight of the Round Table.

And because of this, Cursed Arm Hassan felt disgusted.

Aside from Alaric, with whom he had interacted before, Cursed Arm Hassan harbored no goodwill toward the Knights of the Round Table, who had massacred the people.

Even Alaric wasn't fully trusted by Cursed Arm Hassan. However, Alaric's survival after encountering the First Hassan was enough to earn his respect.

"These people escaped from the Holy City and came seeking refuge here. I'll make sure you get more supplies later. As for these individuals, they're Chaldea's Master and her team, here to fix this Singularity.

"Let me introduce you—this is humanity's last Master, Ritsuka Fujimaru."

"And Ritsuka, this is Cursed Arm Hassan, an Assassin from the Mountain People."

Alaric's brief introduction dispelled Cursed Arm Hassan's suspicions about Ritsuka and her companions.

"Hey! Isn't this Alaric? You've brought quite a crowd this time, huh?"

Suddenly, a cheerful voice rang out from a distance.

A black-haired man in casual clothing, holding a crimson longbow, approached briskly.

"Senpai, that's also a Servant!"

Mash whispered upon sensing the newcomer's spirit origin.

Ritsuka Fujimaru nodded, watching as Alaric and the black-haired man started chatting. Meanwhile, Cursed Arm Hassan led the refugees into the village.

Ritsuka and her group followed Alaric into the village as well.

"Oh, let me introduce you. This is Arash, the great hero of Persia," Alaric smiled, gesturing toward the black-haired man.

A hero from ancient Persian legend, Arash was the warrior of King Manuchehr, the last ruler of the Age of Gods in West Asia. He ended the sixty-year war between Persia and Turan, bringing peace and tranquility to the people of both nations.

Alaric had witnessed Arash's summoning at the leyline several months ago.