Beast.
Fully known as the "Beast of Original Sin," also called the Evils of Humanity. These are calamities that threaten human history, poised to destroy mankind.
As there are seven original sins, there are also seven Beasts... yet these seven are not fixed, and the "Principles" they embody vary.
Take Alaric, for instance.
As a divine being, he has undeniably carved out a paradise for the Britons living on this island, sparing them the suffering of struggling in an apocalyptic age.
But on a planetary scale, across the entirety of human history, his actions could be deemed "defying the heavens" and "utterly unforgivable."
"Though it's merely an island at the far western edge of the world, surrounded by seas, this land is destined for a remarkably glorious future."
Alaric spoke calmly.
The Hundred Years' War, the Glorious Revolution, constitutional monarchy, the Empire on which the sun never sets… In human history, this small island carries such weight that it has become "indispensable."
Yet Alaric's actions could be said to have "severed" this future, directly altering the course of human history.
"But you don't need to blame yourself so much."
"My current state has little to do with you."
"Just as your destiny was to become king, my fate was to become a Beast... your influence merely shaped the Principle I embody."
Seeing Artoria's face turn ashen, Alaric revealed a truth he and the magus had long known:
He was a divine being born at the end of the Age of Gods.
He should not exist in this era, for the world no longer provides the foundation for his existence.
Thus, only two outcomes awaited him:
Either he would perish in his infancy due to insufficient sustenance.
Or, after enduring countless hardships and striving by any means, he would ascend to true divinity... only to find, tragically, that there was no place for him in this world.
"So-called gods are extensions of the planet's will. In the era when humanity was still weak, they bore the duty of nurturing and guiding mankind."
"But as humanity approaches a new age, the gods linger, failing to retreat. They remain on the surface of the world, continuing to restrict human progress."
"It's like a cradle… A tiny infant needs it dearly, but when that infant grows into a toddler, the cradle that once brought comfort becomes a constraint, hindering further exploration of the world."
"At that point, the so-called god falls automatically into a Beast, becoming an obstacle humanity must overcome."
Merlin quietly added, explaining what Alaric left unsaid or had no intention of clarifying.
As for why Alaric, having fallen into a Beast, could stand here calmly, conversing with Artoria as if nothing were amiss?
"That's why I said, in matters of nurturing, you seem to have surpassed me."
"Though the outcome is predetermined, the process is equally vital… A Beast bearing the Principle of Exaltation is far easier to deal with than those other terrifying entities!"
Merlin looked at Artoria, sincerely praising her accomplishments.
It was like a visual novel with multiple endings… Though all may lead to a bad ending, even bad endings vary in severity, don't they?
Not to mention, while the situation was indeed dire, it was far from the time to discuss "endings."
"It's just a mere Beast."
"For others, it might be a bit troublesome… but for the king destined to save Britannia, this should hardly count as a major issue, right?"
... These words came not from Merlin but from Alaric.
As he had told Agravain, when faced with problems, one shouldn't overthink alone but place "greater trust" in this king, believing she could resolve the matter perfectly and achieve that theoretical Happy Ending.
"Really now."
Hearing Alaric's encouraging words, Artoria, now aware of the full truth, gradually recovered from her initial shock and disorientation.
"You lot sure have the nerve, entrusting the task of saving the world to a little girl like me."
"Have you never considered what happens if I buckle under the pressure and just give up?"
She shook her head, a bittersweet yet genuine smile on her face.
"A correction, Lily... you're thirty years old now. Hardly a little girl."
"You'll definitely be kicked into a lake and drowned by those noblewomen, Merlin!"
"Fou! (I'll help!)"
…
The next day, early morning.
As dawn broke, Mash opened her eyes.
Upon waking, she instinctively pressed a hand to her chest, taking deep breaths... only when she felt no discomfort did she realize she wasn't in that sterile room, and her frail body seemed to have been completely healed.
"Feels good…"
The purple-haired girl muttered to herself, quietly slipping out of bed. She opened the door and headed toward the dining hall.
The dining hall was crowded, with everyone seemingly present except her.
But the atmosphere was peculiar.
The Knights of the Round Table summoned from the Throne of Heroes exchanged glances, as if wanting to say something but unwilling to speak first.
The knights of this world kept their heads down, counting floor tiles, or turned to gaze out the window at the scenery… anything to avoid the scene with an "it's too much, I can't look" expression.
At the head of the table, Artoria and Morgan sat side by side... these half-sisters, one beaming with a radiant smile, the other cold as frost, presenting a stark contrast.
"Wh-what's going on?"
Uncertain of the mood, Mash hurried to hide behind Alaric, the only person she felt somewhat familiar with, and whispered her question.
"Oh, nothing much."
Alaric handed Mash a glass of milk, a pleased expression on his face:
"Last night, Artoria came up with a brilliant idea... to have the heroic spirit knights team up with the knights of this world for a war of paired battles."
"But, considering the king herself shouldn't participate in this war, she gave her place to Morgan."
"Excluding you, six heroic spirit knights and six knights of this world make a perfect number."
"Only the strongest among the Knights of the Round Table can team up with Lady Morgan... that's the king's exact words."
"Now, these Knights of the Round Table are preparing for a grand contest to 'win Lady Morgan'!"
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