Typemoon: Starting Out as the Lion King's Personal Knight [423] (Patreon)

Heaven and earth are opposites, but the moment the beam of light reached the endless sky, it became a scene unreachable by those on the ground.

Looking at that familiar yet utterly different phenomenon, Ritsuka Fujimaru tried her best to suppress the tremor in her heart.

Seeing the light band again after a year, even Fujimaru couldn’t help but feel a little shaken.

After all the adventures and changes in era, only the light band remains unchanged.

The Demon King is already a thing of the past, but those who inherited his will and could be called her comrades now stand on the world stage.

The ascent of the light band is a proclamation to the entire planet—of the six remaining Lostbelts, any observation from outside them could detect its presence.

At this moment, on the pure white, paper-like planet surface, Koyanskaya, who had somehow left the Russian territory, stared up at the sky.

She knew of the King who tried to burn humanity, of the Mother of Origin who sought return, and even the half-beast Kiara, a Beast III from the distant future.

But she hadn’t expected Alaric to use a method similar to the First Beast, Goetia—turning simulated history into a band of light.

Imitation or not, how did he even do it?

Koyanskaya was dumbfounded, rubbing her white tiger fangs against her lips in frustration.

Alaric had always overshadowed her; she didn’t even know how to do business with him, whether or not she leveraged her own assets.

Now that Alaric had advanced even further, wouldn’t any future deals be dangerous?

Wait, can I even collect the debt he owes me?

Her first thought was whether Alaric would repay the information debt he’d incurred earlier.

Unlike the debt-worried Koyanskaya, Kirei Kotomine, who hadn’t yet left Russian territory, remained calm; even as Alaric’s light band rose, he only chuckled.

“So, you created a light band imitating that King. That’s just like you, Sir Alaric.”

In Kirei’s view, Alaric’s move was clever but incomplete.

Though he had successfully operated the coronation ritual and launched the light band, he lacked a way to make use of it.

The Demon King Goetia, that king standing above humanity, used his second Noble Phantasm, Ars Nova, a Reality Marble beyond the universe, to bear the heat of all human history, and applied it with Ars Nova.

Alaric, relying on his own magical adaptation of Ars Nova and his authority, had accomplished a similar feat.

But that required the support of a magical ritual to run smoothly.

Though Kirei didn’t know how Alaric managed to stabilize and operate the light band in the sky after shaking off the ritual’s constraints—and even contain its extraordinary heat—this was likely the limit.

Walking alone in a featureless realm, Father Kotomine admired the light band’s operation as he waited for the right time.

Waiting to carry out the final task entrusted by Anastasia.

Returning to earth from the sky, Alaric picked up his clothes, covering his natural form under the gaze of Ritsuka and the others.

“Musashi’s gone, huh—”

Fully dressed, Alaric noticed Musashi had quietly left.

He felt a bit regretful—not even speeding up could let him say a word or two.

Suppressing that regret, Alaric noticed the strange looks from Ritsuka and Mash, and laughed, “Cool, right?”

“Eh, it’s pretty cool, just a bit too bright—”

Ritsuka’s eyes kept drifting upward, glancing between Alaric’s face and his head, as if pondering how to comment.

Mash, more blunt, said, “Sir Alaric, doesn’t that thing above your head bother you when you sleep at night?”

“Hm?”

Hearing this, Alaric looked up.

A pure white crown was floating three inches above his head, shining with boundless light.

“Oh, that.”

Alaric casually took the crown off his head, tapped it, and switched it to sleep mode. The circulating magical energy and radiance instantly vanished.

He then nonchalantly put the crown back, and once the light was gone, it became invisible, completely undetectable.

“Eh? Eh? EH?!”

Ritsuka and Mash both exclaimed. Even Goredolf, who had been shivering in the submarine, forgot his fear and complained, “What kind of portable Mystic Code is that!”

All that for something like this?!

Alaric saw nothing wrong with it, replying matter-of-factly, “Isn’t it normal for it to have some minor functions? Otherwise, I’d just become a giant light bulb.”

The episode with the Crown of Light quickly passed. Though Mash was curious about its true nature, she read the room and let it go.

Holmes and Da Vinci-chan came down from the deck and stood before Alaric.

“I can’t say much more; I’ve told you the essentials already. Mr. Holmes, do you have any questions? I need to pick up Lady Da Vinci. Oh, I mean the other Da Vinci.”

Alaric smiled, shifting his gaze from Da Vinci-chan. “This operation caused quite a stir, but it’s still within acceptable limits, right?”

“It was a massive stir. You’re planning something huge, Sir Alaric.”

Da Vinci-chan grinned, “Since you’re not going to talk, what’s the overall name of this plan?”

“Coronation. Da Vinci never told me the full name.”

Even Alaric was curious about the full name of Coronation; he’d only provided the concept, while Da Vinci handled the details and naming.

“Hmm, I see.”

Da Vinci-chan nodded. “So, what’s next? Where are you going?”

Since Alaric wasn’t sharing information, Da Vinci didn’t push; she’d already learned what she wanted to know.

What remained was curiosity about Alaric’s next move.

“Well—”

Alaric glanced at Ritsuka and Mash, about to answer, when Holmes cut in, “Before that, Sir Alaric, what intel can you share right now?”

Holmes’s gaze, as if to pierce everything, locked onto Alaric, making him swallow his words.

“Let me think.”

Alaric stroked his chin and said, “The Foreign God will descend using a fully grown Fantasy Tree. She’s the mastermind behind all this.”

“Foreign God? Interesting.” Holmes raised a brow. “Can you elaborate?”

“Who knows?”

Alaric shrugged. “All I can say is, the Foreign God is—as the name suggests—a being from another planet.”

“Oh?”

Da Vinci-chan’s curiosity was piqued. “An invader from space—could that really happen? And neither of the two great Counter Forces responded?”

She looked up at the endless blue sky.

Other than the pure white light band, it was the same blue as always.

As if nothing had happened.

But Da Vinci knew something was wrong.

After Chaldea was attacked and the Fantasy Tree first landed, they’d gotten intel from other departments: cosmic rays had been completely shut out.

It happened almost instantly, before anyone could react—except a few who already knew the truth.

That aside, with cosmic rays blocked, sunlight shouldn’t reach the planet’s surface.

That’s why Da Vinci was so curious.

If the planet’s surface was isolated, how did Alaric manage to send the light band into the sky, forming a ring around the world?

She was dying to know!

At this moment, Da Vinci wished she could lock Alaric in a secret room and squeeze every bit of intel out of him.

“Anything’s possible.”

Alaric laughed, “Every accident is a new surprise.”

Before he finished, a transmission came in from the submarine.

A little earlier—

Beep beep beep.

Bored Meunière sat at his station. When he realized what was happening, he burst out, “Holmes! Da Vinci-chan! Uncle Goredolf!”

“I’m not some uncle!”

Goredolf, who didn’t dare leave the sub to face Alaric, retorted.

Outside, Holmes asked, “What is it, Mr. Meunière? Is there something more shocking?”

At this point, with space invaders, a bleached world, Lostbelts, and the Foreign God, even Alaric had shocked them multiple times.

Holmes couldn’t imagine what else could surprise them.

“This is the big one!”

Meunière declared, “Listen up, we’ve got a transmission! We’re receiving remote magical signals! Must be because we cut down the Fantasy Tree!”

Even after enduring the Incineration of Humanity, Meunière still felt shocked.

“What?!”

Goredolf spun around, but Holmes’s voice rang out first, “What does it say?!”

Not just Goredolf and Meunière—even Holmes was shocked.

A transmission from the outside proved one thing.

The world wasn’t completely bleached. There were survivors besides Chaldea!

This meant Chaldea, no longer alone, had a glimmer of hope—maybe even an alliance.

“The message is encrypted, give me a moment.”

The comms officer replied, “Almost done.”

“There are survivors?!”

Da Vinci-chan rushed back to the sub, followed by Ritsuka, Mash, and a curious Alaric.

“Weren’t you going to pick up Da Vinci?” Ritsuka asked, “Isn’t it bad to keep her waiting?”

Though Ritsuka missed Da Vinci, just knowing she was safe was enough.

At least when Da Vinci was with Alaric, nothing would happen to her—

Ritsuka recalled that day at Chaldea; if not for Alaric restraining Father Kotomine at the last second, would Da Vinci have survived that karate chop? That was a despairing scene.

“Ah, it’s fine.”

Alaric forced a laugh, “Lady Da Vinci is generous—she won’t blame me.”

“But leaving someone hanging is bad, Sir Alaric!” Mash scolded, “Da Vinci will lecture you for that!”

“It’s fine, it’s fine.”

Alaric waved it off and entered the sub, quickly finding a bottle of juice. “Look, found some!”

“You seem familiar with this place—did Da Vinci tell you?” Ritsuka asked, taking the juice.

After all, Da Vinci built this sub over six months, and Alaric had been at Chaldea for about as long. Even if their timelines didn’t perfectly overlap, it wouldn’t matter if Da Vinci was with him.

Information flow was no problem.

“Sort of. This place is cool—Imaginary Number Submarine, Imaginary Space—”

Alaric shook his head, thinking of a certain goddess still in imaginary space—

Maybe it was time to look for her?

At that moment, Alaric spotted a familiar figure and laughed, “Eating well these days? You look thinner! Being Chaldea’s Director must be tough!”

“You jerk!”

Goredolf, who had no idea who Alaric was, quickly put down his tea, instinctively hiding behind Holmes. “Careful! I’m Chaldea’s new Director!”

“How lively.”

Holmes smiled, “Never thought you’d all meet again like this, Sir Alaric.”

“Nonsense!” Goredolf retorted, “I don’t know this guy, and my father wouldn’t either!”

“Hm?”

Thinking back, Alaric realized he’d only had limited contact with Goredolf’s father, Gordes Musik Yggdmillennia, during the Holy Grail War.

He let it go and didn’t press Goredolf further.

Just then—“Decryption complete, I’ll read it!”

Meunière announced: “I am a magus of Proper Human History; I am a magus of true history.

If you receive this signal, please rendezvous with us.

This is Wandering Sea, currently moving through the North Atlantic.

Awaiting survivors. Repeating: survivors of true history, please come to the following coordinates and join us.

This is Wandering Sea, Wandering Sea. Wandering Sea.”

“The Wandering Sea—It’s actually the Wandering Sea?!”

As a Clock Tower magus, Goredolf knew the weight of that name and cried out, “That one?! The three great magus organizations: London’s Clock Tower, Egypt’s Atlas Institute, and—the ancient magical stronghold hidden in the North Sea, the Wandering Sea… That place still exists?!”

Both Da Vinci and Holmes were visibly stunned.

They had considered possible survivors, but the Wandering Sea—one of the three major organizations—was a shock.

Not just Da Vinci and Holmes—even Alaric raised his brow. He knew of the Wandering Sea from information during the Human Order Drifting.

“What’s the Wandering Sea?”

Two years in and still a magic novice, Ritsuka blinked and smiled, “I don’t get it.”

Alaric explained, “The Wandering Sea, also called Baldanders.

Just as the Director said, it’s one of the Mage Association’s three pillars, alongside the Clock Tower and the Atlas Institute—the original organizations of magecraft.

It’s said that many of the Association’s founders were heretic mages expelled from the Wandering Sea or Atlas.”

Alaric continued, “The Wandering Sea’s base is in Northern Europe. Known as the Moving Coffin, it’s a moving mountain.

Usually, it wanders the sea as its name suggests, but sometimes it comes ashore.

Outwardly, it looks like an ordinary island in the North Sea, but actually, it’s at the center of a different world’s sea—built before the Common Era, and is itself an ‘independent singularity.’”

“Singularity?” Ritsuka asked, “So it’s outside history?”

“Pretty much.”

Alaric said, “The Wandering Sea that appears in different eras is just an echo of its former self landing in that era.

Even if it’s destroyed in one era, the past, future, and original are unaffected.

Protected by Heritage Defense, reality and human order can’t approach it, and radar can’t detect it.

For two thousand years, it only lowers its defenses and opens its doors on December 31st to recruit talent.”

“So at the end of last year, the Wandering Sea was open as usual? On that day?” Ritsuka asked.

“That’s the idea, who knows if anyone got in.”

Alaric nodded. “As for its origin: long ago, to hide from humans and gods, they built a workshop on an isolated island and vanished from the universe with it.

Since then, except for the Five Gates, no one can observe or interfere.

Their sole belief: Magecraft from the Age of Gods is supreme; anything after is child’s play.

It’s an ancient institution, utterly different from the Clock Tower—masters of Age of Gods magecraft and body modification, denying any post-Common Era advancements.

Of course, you don’t have to worry, Miss Fujimaru—your summoning is top tier.”

“Right, that matches Chaldea’s records,” Mash added.

“The Mage Association was founded at the start of the Common Era, but split into three branches from the start.

The London-based mages valued adapting with history, which became the dominant Clock Tower—home to the Animusphere family and Director Goredolf’s organization.

The Atlas Institute in Egypt focused on perfecting alchemy; though their techniques are not to be taken outside, Chaldea’s first director got an exemption with the Atlas Contract.

That led to Chaldeas and the special Mystic Code, the Imaginary Number Observing Device: Mooncell.”

Mash paused, adding to Alaric’s explanation, “Denying magecraft’s progress and only recognizing Age of Gods mysteries seems to be the Wandering Sea’s principle—the opposite of the Clock Tower.”

“Exactly. Denying magecraft’s progress means denying consumer civilization, too.”

Holmes said, “The Wandering Sea is incompatible with modern society. That’s why its gates are always closed and new disciples are rare.

The rest matches what Sir Alaric said—he’s clearly quite knowledgeable about magecraft.”

Holmes didn’t forget to tease Alaric.

“All learned from you,” Alaric replied with a smile.

“Hmph! Normally they look down on us. Now, in a crisis, they send a distress signal? Some inheritors of mystery! They should learn from us—breaking through Russia with nothing, still running around!” Goredolf sniffed.

“I think it means the Wandering Sea is reaching out, breaking their own creed to help us—” Mash blushed, a little embarrassed.

“That’s a good thing, isn’t it?” Alaric smiled. “At least now, you can rendezvous with the Wandering Sea. It’s a good situation.”

“We—”

Ritsuka hesitated, “Sir Alaric, since you’re still not joining us, where do you and Da Vinci plan to go next?”

“The Wandering Sea’s in the North Pacific, right?”

“I’m going home to the Chinese Lostbelt.”

According to Koyanskaya’s intel, the divergence in the Chinese Lostbelt began thousands of years ago.

B.C. 0210—the First Emperor, never dying, has survived as the sole Emperor to this day.