บท 163: C163
Merem Solomon couldn't recall exactly when it had happened. He used to be an ordinary villager, but his life was forever altered when he discovered his innate ability to summon daemons. With this newfound power, he could grant people's wishes, and the ignorant villagers hailed him as a divine child.
To prevent Merem from leaving the village, the villagers resorted to a gruesome act. They dismembered him and enshrined his remains. According to their beliefs, "the appearance of a god cannot be the same as that of a human," and they also wanted to ensure that he wouldn't escape using his powers.
Merem's life bore resemblance to that of Angra Mainyu, but there was one critical difference: Merem was a genuine divine child with the power to grant the wishes of others.
He was destined to spend his life bringing comfort to the villagers, but his fate took a turn when he caught the attention of Crimson Moon by chance. Intrigued by Merem's ability to summon daemons, Crimson Moon declared that he would slaughter all the villagers at dawn.
The villagers' desire to "refuse death" was both grotesque and powerful. Although it placed a heavy burden on Merem to fulfill their requests, they continued to summon powerful beasts, one after another, which were brought to life through Merem's abilities and used to confront Crimson Moon.
Sadly, the villagers' efforts were no match for Crimson Moon. Despite their desperate wishes, Merem's powerful beasts were unable to stop him, and at dawn, Merem succumbed to the burden of fulfilling their requests and perished.
The surviving villagers cursed both Merem and Crimson Moon before dying one by one. As dawn broke, Crimson Moon resurrected Merem as a dead apostle.
"I'm doing this purely for my own amusement. Live as you please, using the images you've drawn as your substitute limbs. Despite the grotesque nature of the original wish, I expect the drawings themselves to be works of art. And if you've drawn a daemon, it should be able to serve as a capable replacement for your limbs."
As if under the spell of Crimson Moon's words, Merem drew four idols based on the villagers' beliefs, summoned four powerful daemons, and bestowed upon them the ability to serve as his limbs. And with that, he stood upon the ground in human form for the first time.
Ever since that day, Merem has harbored a deep admiration for Crimson Moon and pledged himself as a loyal dead apostle, busy carrying out his orders. It was this loyalty that drove Merem to accept Crimson Moon's command over a year and four months ago to transport Altrouge, one of Crimson Moon's bodies, to the island of Britain.
However...
"Wow, this game is so dull. I can't believe you're so excited about it," complained Altrouge, the princess who was a hybrid of a True Ancestor and a Dead Apostle. Merem felt a headache creeping up.
As humanity gradually achieved dominance over the planet, and nature became subservient to it, Gaia, the planet's consciousness, grew increasingly anxious. In response, the Crimson Moon, the prototype of the True Ancestors, pledged to create a world that would benefit the planet and descended from the moon to Earth.
In actuality, the Crimson Moon came to exert dominion over the Earth. However, unlike the giant spider in South America that could withstand the Counter Force, the Crimson Moon was not immune to it. Therefore, he began to seek out hosts, leaving behind his successors, in order to avoid the Counter Force. And thus, the True Ancestors were created.
However, all of the bodies that the Crimson Moon created were inherently unstable and incomplete, and Altrouge was no exception.
What made her unique was that she was a rare hybrid of a True Ancestor and a Dead Apostle, earning her the title of "Princess of the Dead Apostles."
Merem let out a sigh. "Princess, even if you're collecting samples that are on the verge of extinction, you still need to put in some effort."
Altrouge pointed at Merem and chuckled, "You should mind your own business. I know you lost Cath Palug, and although the Crimson Moon may not care for that imitation of him, it won't be easy for you to explain its loss to him."
Merem's expression morphed into one of despair.
Upon his arrival on the island of Britain, the Crimson Moon assigned him two tasks. The first was to collect a sufficient amount of blood samples from humans of the Age of Gods, so that he could savor this delicacy even after they went extinct.
To fulfill this task, he released the Cath Palug, a creature that imitated the Crimson Moon, in a densely populated area. He also left behind the ritual of transformation, which could turn people into Dead Apostles, and hid nearby until he completed his second mission. Only then could he gather them up and take them away.
Unfortunately, the transformation ritual was destroyed, and Cath Palug was lost. Merem had planned to investigate, but the white dragon had already flown to the area.
The dragon was gradually becoming the last "god" of the Age of Gods, one step at a time. Merem was aware that neither he nor Altrouge could defeat the dragon, even if they combined their powers. The only way to defeat the dragon head-on was to have Crimson Moon, who was still on Europe to descend upon Altrouge.
However, Altrouge was uncomfortable with the idea of being controlled and losing control of her body. Therefore, unless it was an emergency, she would never request the Crimson Moon's assistance.
While it was an unfortunate situation, Merem was relieved that they had already taken over King Pellinore's kingdom and turned him into a Dead Apostle, and this became their main base. Without this base, how could he possibly explain his failure to the Crimson Moon?
"When do you think he created such a high-purity body?" Altrouge asked.
"I have no idea," Merem replied.
"He created it but never even used it. He just discarded it on this island. If I hadn't found it, hmph..."
She extended her hand and gently prodded the face of the unconscious girl. The girl had short golden hair and was covered in wounds and bruises from a fierce battle.
"Despite being such a high-purity True Ancestor, she ended up in this state. Did the Crimson Moon abandon her? How pitiful." she whispered.
...
"Your kingdom has been taken over by Dead Apostles? And King Pellinore has become one of them?" Shirou looked surprised as he questioned Lamorak, "Why are you only telling me this now?"
"I apologize, Your Majesty," Lamorak said apologetically. "I came to Caerleon in response to the Archbishop's call to arms, and my intention was to report this to Camelot. However, Vortigern attacked, and I was caught up in the chaos. So..."
"Your caution has cost us precious time!" Shirou exclaimed angrily. "You should know that any information, good or bad, is essential for devising a strategy! Why did you wait so long to tell me?"
Lamorak appeared remorseful. "I apologize, Your Majesty..."
"Lamorak, if you recognize your mistake, come with me immediately!" He ordered. "Rather than apologizing, inform the northern kings as soon as possible!"
"I hope they haven't reached my kingdom yet..."
Shirou gave him a stern look and hurriedly left the castle to locate Morgan and notify the northern kings about the situation.
Upon hearing the news of King Pellinore's fall, the northern kings were shocked. However, since the report came from Lamorak, the son of the King of Pellinore, they had no choice but to believe it. As a result, they abandoned their original plan.
Shirou let out a sigh of relief, but his mind was consumed with confusion. What kind of situation had they found themselves in?
There were disloyal nobles within their own kingdom, and the kings were difficult to coordinate with. Outside, Vortigern loomed, commanding a vast territory, numerous monsters, and Dead Apostles concealed in the shadows.
Chaos! The situation was incredibly chaotic!
Shirou even contemplated running away, but he knew that if Vortigern succeeded in ruling Britain, reviving the Age of the Gods, and transforming this historical turning point into a Lostbelt, everyone would be doomed.
If the sky were to collapse, and the earth to crumble, who would shoulder the weight of this world?
Was it him?
Was he capable?
Could he handle it?
Ywain offered the crown to Shirou and exclaimed, "My king, this is a time of crisis! Take the crown and rule in another land!"
Shirou declined, gesturing with his hand, "Camelot still has the protection of Caerleon and Barton Fortress. As long as these two fortifications hold, Camelot has a fighting chance to survive until the kings arrive to aid us!"
Just then, Merlin arrived in a rush, exclaiming, "Barton Mountain has fallen. It's on the verge of collapse!"
Shirou's expression turned grave, "What are you saying?"
Merlin replied urgently, "King Mark is a Dead Apostle. He has killed the kings and abandoned Barton Fortress. Vortigern will likely overpower Barton Mountain's defenses and advance towards Camelot by tomorrow at the latest!"
Boom! Shirou was knocked back two steps by the overwhelming pressure, as if a mountain had fallen on him.
He glared at Merlin and asked through clenched teeth, "Why didn't you tell me earlier, my court mage?"
Merlin appeared helpless as he explained, "I made a mistake. My Clairvoyance can only observe what is happening in the present, but I can only focus on a specific location at a time. At that moment, I was observing the enemy outside Caerleon, not Barton Mountain."
Shirou's finger quivered with anger as he continued to glare at Merlin. "You...you're utterly useless!"
Merlin appeared despondent. Ywain then presented the crown to Shirou, "My king, with Barton Mountain on the verge of collapse and no fortifications left to defend Camelot, please consider ruling in another land!"
"I...I..." He gazed at the crown in Ywain's hand, feeling overwhelmed. To him, it wasn't a symbol of power or a mere crown, but rather a mountain - a kingdom teetering on the edge of destruction, crushing down on him and suffocating him.
He could only imagine the extent of the agony he would face if he were to don that crown. Before him lay a path of suffering, leading straight to hell. It was a realm that surpassed his own abilities!
He wavered, coming to a halt. In that moment, Ywain dropped to one knee, holding the crown aloft, gazing upon Shirou with a hopeful expression.
Merlin let out a sigh and lowered his staff to the ground, joining Ywain in kneeling before Shirou. Morgan likewise dropped to one knee. Even Artoria, Gawain, and the others summoned by Agravain arrived and knelt before Shirou.
It was akin to a group of knights pledging their allegiance to a king. When the sky fell, it did not disrupt the daily lives of the people because the tallest among them would naturally hold it up.
Shirou had held the same belief. However, as he surveyed the scene around him, he came to the realization that he was, in fact, the tallest among them!
Before him lay nothing but suffering and hell. Shirou closed his eyes, his hands trembling as he reached out to grasp the heavy crown - a mountain of responsibility - and slowly placed it upon his head.
Shirou's voice rang out firmly, "Listen to me, everyone. Warn the people of Caerleon and evacuate the city immediately!"
"Yes, Your Majesty!" The knights swiftly obeyed their king's orders, scrambling to carry out his commands.
Shirou gazed up at the fading sunset, the hues of the sky mirroring the state of Britannia - a crumbling kingdom, on the brink of collapse like a castle tumbling into a deep abyss. And he, like a bull with a harness, was struggling to pull this kingdom back from the brink of destruction.
But in the end, would he be overestimating his own abilities, or would he manage to overcome all obstacles? He could not say for sure. All he knew was that his life had entered a new chapter - one of King Arthur, the last King of the Age of Gods.
...
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