Type-Moon: The Human Love Simulator [46] (Patreon)

Even if they knew that Kaelar, the holy man of Britain, had defeated seventy thousand foes single-handedly, these oppressed people, ground down by countless ruthless lords, had developed a survival instinct: cunning, wary, and cowardly. To put it bluntly, they were like rats.

But Kaelar was willing to fight for them, to win for them...

A chance for their descendants to become human—not rats, but people.

Artoria’s cheeks turned red with frustration. “Kael, these people don’t understand any kind of teaching. They don’t grasp what it means to be human. We came to help them fight against their cruel lord… but they’ll only support whoever wins!”

“No, Lily,” Kaelar said calmly. “Whoever they support—that person will win.”

The 'they' in Kaelar's words seemed to refer to the ignorant, apathetic peasants in this land, yet Artoria sometimes felt he was speaking about more than just them. She often found it hard to understand Kaelar's complex philosophical musings.

Long before Kaelar and Artoria arrived, these peasants had endured relentless oppression. During Hengist’s rule, the Anglo-Saxon lords collected taxes by his decree. They were greedy, yes, but at least left enough for the people to survive.

Now those Anglo-Saxon lords and tax officials were gone, swept away with Hengist, but power abhors a vacuum. Vortigern had dispatched many Celts and newly-arrived Germanic tribes from Europe to serve as lords.

This Ael was a Saxon who had recently crossed from Europe to seek Vortigern’s favor—a man who would later go on to found the Kingdom of Sussex.

But curiously, Ael did not worship the Cross; he followed the Roman Pantheon.

This choice of faith was fascinating. The Romans, with their inclusive approach, acknowledged all gods of the world. Even when they conquered other nations, they didn’t destroy the defeated gods but integrated them into the Roman pantheon and honored them more devoutly.

The Roman logic was simple: if you pray to your gods to protect your country, then we Romans will worship your gods even more devoutly, so they’ll favor us instead.

Thus, the first thing Ael did upon arriving in Britain was to study the Celtic myths. It seemed he wanted to win the favor of Britain’s deities...

After all, local lords were more influential than distant ones, and the Roman gods were far away!

“There’s no such thing as an unteachable savage,” Kaelar said, his horse’s hooves clopping on the cobblestones. “I’ll educate them.”

“Alright!” Artoria nodded, gripping her lance tightly as she followed behind Kaelar. There was indeed a feeling of invincibility as if the two of them together were unbeatable.

The street remained eerily quiet. Though Kaelar spoke loud enough for all to hear, whether out of fear of his name or terror of the local lord, no one stepped forward to join him, yet no one stood in his way either.

But Fou's eyes shone with excitement. The strong, shifting emotions of humans were the food this Beast of Comparison craved.

By the time Kaelar had arrived in the territory, Ael had already established control. Vortigern's appointment merely made his authority official.

Power does not tolerate a vacuum. Hengist’s death and the loss of his followers had gutted his base of power, but fundamentally, nothing had changed...

Vortigern remained.

With the upper echelons still intact, the vacuum left by Hengist’s death had quickly been filled.

Ael was the greatest beneficiary of Hengist’s downfall. The lands he and his allies had seized were enough to establish a new kingdom.

At this moment, Ael was pacing inside his castle, furious. “Vortigern, that brainless fool! Did he even listen to the nonsense he was spouting?”

Grinding his teeth, Ael continued, “That muscle-brained white dragon, who only knows of war, actually wants us to prepare… next year—or at the latest, the year after—to march on Maple Ridge again!”

“My old friend Hengist took seventy thousand Anglo-Saxons, full of ambition, to Maple Ridge. And what happened? You all saw!”

Ael ranted, unable to stop. “It doesn’t matter who’s in charge. We didn’t come to Britain to die! Let that monster Kaelar be Vortigern’s problem, not ours!”

“But what about His Majesty’s orders?” one of his men protested. “Earlier, he killed dozens of us with a wave of his hand. If you hadn’t knelt quickly enough, who knows how many more would’ve died…”

“If we don’t follow Vortigern’s commands…”

“Who cares?” Ael gave him a cold glance. “We’ll just sail back to Europe. Vortigern is nothing more than a grave-watcher who will never leave Britain. Even if he rots away, he’ll die on this island!”

“Let’s enjoy our good days while we can…”

Ael sighed and said, “Yes, the White Dragon and the Red Dragon of the Celts, and that pure-hearted Saint, Kaelar…”

“I don’t think this land is meant for a long stay. So before we leave, everyone should grab as much as they can. When I say it’s time to go, you’d better listen—don’t get greedy!”

“Or you might never leave…”

Before he could finish his plotting, a calm male voice rang out: “I am Kaelar…”

Ael only caught the first few words. As for the rest?

His mind went blank. He couldn’t remember what Kaelar had said.

He only knew one thing—Kaelar had come!

“Damn it!” Ael cursed in his native tongue, his face paling. He stammered, “We can’t stay here. We need to leave. Now!”

Though Ael was a powerful warrior, nearly matching the level of a first-rate Heroic Spirit, he had no intention of fighting Kaelar.

He knew Hengist’s power well. He was fully aware that even if Kaelar stood alone, their forces combined would be swept aside in moments.

If they didn’t flee now, they wouldn’t have the chance later!

Ael’s frantic escape didn’t go unnoticed by the townsfolk. Somehow, seeing him scurry away like a rat from Kaelar sparked courage in those who had been too scared to resist.

They didn’t wait for Kaelar to act. With shouts of hatred, they began to chase Ael down on their own...

Some even took advantage of the chaos to engage in a bit of looting.

“Your golden image has shattered,” Kaelar said with a smile, sliding his blunt sword back into its sheath. He hadn’t needed to draw it—his very name had sent Ael running.

If Ael had chosen to stand his ground and face Kaelar, the people would still have remained silent, too frightened to act. But by fleeing, Ael had revealed himself as a paper tiger, and the oppressed masses saw him for what he truly was.

Kaelar remained still. If he wanted those who had knelt for so long to rise, his duty was to stand there, unwavering.

“Rebellion is a timeless theme,” Kaelar said, watching the unfolding scene. “See, it’s that easy to spark the flame of resistance. You don’t need eloquent speeches—just a banner and a burning heart.”

“Violence can’t win loyalty; only virtue can win hearts.”

Kaelar sheathed his sword, turning to Artoria. “Let’s go. We don’t need to travel anymore. You’ve already graduated, Lily.”