Earth Princess? No, it's Fujimaru Ritsuka!

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"That guy, he really does know who this girl is..."

However, the fact that Fufu and this little girl can play together suggests that the girl is probably harmless.

If you think about it that way, then there shouldn't be any problem.

But what exactly is this feeling of déjà vu, like I've seen it somewhere before?

I'll ask Miss Princess when I get back.

Ask her if there are any other True Ancestors or Dead Apostles...

After leaving Atlas Institute, Fujimaru Ritsuka didn't have much time left.

As everyone observed, the world began to appear to shrink, or rather, the boundaries of the world began to emerge. This indicated that the Lion King's Holy Lance had been fully formed, and the entire world would soon disappear.

Based on time estimates.

The reorganization of the village troops of the mountain people should be almost complete.

With the addition of the Sun King's army and some of Lancelot's cavalry, the forces attacking the Holy Capital would certainly be sufficient.

However, even so, it cannot constitute a decisive victory.

Even if ten thousand, one hundred thousand, or even one million people gather...

It might pose a threat to the Servant; (a) Qi Yi 2 VIII Death Temple Ha, but for the Lion King, it would only be a matter of waving his hand a few more times.

In the face of absolute power difference, quantity is meaningless.

Nitocris bid farewell to everyone.

"After leaving Egypt, our next meeting will be the final battle with the Lion King. The Sun King said he would lend you his army, but he didn't say we would help you...but..."

The ancient Egyptian magic queen's dark, glossy face flushed with a slightly embarrassed blush.

"If you fight the Lion King, I will definitely help you!"

Nitocris held up her staff earnestly and said, "Don't let my appearance fool you. If I fight with all my might, I won't lose to the Lion King! You might not believe it, but I promise you, we will definitely achieve victory together."

"No, we believe it."

Fujimaru Ritsuka gave a thumbs up.

"The Lion King is nothing to Nitocris if Nitocris is serious!"

"That's right, that's right."

Mashu nodded seriously, praising him repeatedly:

"Miss Nitocris is the Queen of Magic of ancient Egypt, possessing the divinity of Horus, the god of the sky. Even the Sun King said that without the sky, the sun could not transmit its light. Therefore, if Miss Nitocris is determined, even the King of Magic is no match for her!"

"what?!"

you...

Nito's face turned red.

I was just feeling a little smug, and these people started praising me!

What the hell is this!

Isn't that a bit too much hype?

Miss Nito wished she could disappear into nowhere.

"In short, you must not be careless when facing the Lion King. That kind of being cannot be defeated simply by strength. Do you understand?"

"Can't we defeat them with brute force alone?"

Fujimaru Ritsuka pursed her lips, then made a mental note of those words. "Okay, I understand."

"Then I will prepare for the attack on the Holy City in Egypt. I'll leave the Mountain Village to you."

Fujimaru Ritsuka: "Leave it to us."

"Well, I wish you good luck in your military campaigns."

Nitocris bowed to the crowd and then turned around.

Her long, purple hair cascaded down like a waterfall as the figure of the ancient magic queen gradually faded into the distance.

Nitocris's figure disappeared into the dust outside Atlas's compound.

“Senior, Miss Nitocris has left. Shouldn’t we return to the mountain village now?”

Mashu's voice pulled Fujimaru Ritsuka back to reality.

"Yes, let's meet up with Hassan and the others before sunset."

Fujimaru Ritsuka's gaze swept over [Crimson]. The black-haired girl still looked bewildered, seemingly oblivious to words like [The Lion King] and [World Destruction].

The sense of déjà vu grew stronger and stronger. Every time Fujimaru Ritsuka saw this petite girl, a scene of a torn-up, yet faintly blood-red night seemed to appear in her mind.

Fujimaru Ritsuka was absolutely certain.

She had never seen a little girl before.

"Senior, let's take her with us. This girl seems very naive; it's too dangerous for her to stay here."

She walked up to the black-haired girl, bent down, and gave her a gentle smile.

"Let's go together?"

"Mmm." The black-haired girl stretched out her snow-white hand and clasped it with Mashu's.

"Mash, this kid seems quite close to you. Are you just naturally suited to taking care of children?"

Mordred found it amusing and started teasing him.

"No... I should say, this girl seems a bit unbelievable... I actually don't know how to take care of children," Mashu quickly waved her hand and said.

"Since we've met, I think... there must be some kind of fate involved."

“Indeed,” Bedivere agreed. “To have survived in an era when humanity was burned down, and to have met is a kind of fate.”

Tripitaka walked over, carrying his staff: "Being able to help others is also a kind of merit. In a sense, the fact that we, people from different eras, can meet is fate, and there must be a cause and effect guiding this!"

Beckham is doing much better than before. Is it because his encounter with Goten... and Chaldea, resolved some kind of inner conflict?

"Ah I..."

Bedivere's soul was nearly decayed, and his current state, whether it was a final burst of energy or a partial recovery, was much better than before.

"How should I put it? I think I've figured it out... What I was afraid of before, the ending where I might not get a reward... I still can't be sure if that will eventually come to me."

But Fujimaru Ritsuka and Mashu are different. They both possess immense power, but behind that power... I think I see it's not just the power of one person, but a future entrusted to humanity.

"so--"

Bedwell gripped his arm: "This time, we'll bring this long story to a close."

Mountain village.

The Hassans are preparing for war.

Fujimaru Ritsuka and the Chaldea who support her are ultimately deus ex machina from outside.

The future of this era still depends on the efforts of humanity in this era.

Even if they pose no threat to the Lion King, they will still have to fight the knights' army.

As the twilight sun casts its glow, it stirs a deep unease within us. No one knows if we will ever see another sunset... and what the future holds for everyone.

Hassan, the Cursed Arm, stood silently atop the hill, his gaze piercing through the two slits in the nails sewn onto his skin.

His gaze was fixed on the last rays of the setting sun.

"Cursed wrist."

A petite, black figure descended silently, without a sound, like a light, drifting leaf.

Is it tranquility?

With short purple hair and a black dress that draped her graceful brown body, this girl, like a poisoned flower in the dark night, is one of the 19 Hassan-i-Sabah, the Serene Hassan.

"The army that West Village can muster has been assembled. All the villages combined have a total of about five thousand people."

Even if there were five thousand men, they could probably only defeat five hundred ordinary righteous knights from the Holy City.

First of all, the Knight of Purification has the blessing of a goddess behind him.

Moreover, the Knights of Justice are fully armed warriors clad in armor.

The disparity between those with armor and those without is visibly devastating.

Five thousand people?

"Bai Mao has gathered seven thousand men, which should be enough to attack the Holy Capital. With Lancelot's army added, we can at least guarantee that we will be able to enter the Holy Capital."

"I see."

Hassan, the Cursed Arm, pondered...

His face was etched with weariness and vicissitudes.

Unlike the other summoned old men of the mountains, he is Hassan Sabah of this era.

Therefore, in a sense, being forced into this predicament by the other party can be considered a dereliction of duty on the part of the old man in the mountains.

"If Fujimaru Ritsuka and the others do well, we can prepare to attack the Holy Capital."

Hassan the Hundred Faces appeared: "But to be honest, it's really hard to accept. As the leader of the Mountain People, we didn't even have the ability to protect our own people... Even after we stormed the Holy City, we didn't even have a chance to fight back against the Lion King's power."

The Lion King is a real god.

It is also the spear of the end, the master of Rungomminiad.

Having lost even the last shred of humanity, she is definitely not someone that any Servant can contend with.

With the power that Hassan currently possesses.

Even if you unleash your Noble Phantasm right in the Lion King's face, you probably still won't be able to break through his defenses.

"It seems we can only rely on that Master from Chaldea... I curse myself, what face do I have left to be the Old Man of the Mountain..."

"Hey, you can't say that, Brother Cursed Wrist." A cheerful voice broke the low despair and lament.

Curse Wrist turned around and saw that the archer in green armor still had a smile on his face.

The other person seemed to be trying to comfort her, but Zhouwan's current mood was indeed very frustrated and complicated.

"Lord Arash..."

"Lu Shide insisted on asking me to teach him how to make arrows, so I'm a little late. Sorry."

Arash's laughter was like a gust of wind, his cheerful yet firm voice causing the cursed wrist to tremble.

“I’m sorry, Lord Arash… that child is always very reckless and naughty, and he doesn’t listen to me. I don’t know how Salia raised him to be so naughty.”

"Curse Wrist," he said again, sounding dejected.

"Hey! Bro, he's way braver than you. He keeps clamoring to learn archery and go to war, even though he's still just a kid, right?"

"Uh..." Zhou Wan was speechless for a moment.

“That child is very caring,” Baimao Hassan said indifferently. “Unlike someone else, he’s a smart kid.”

""

"Once Master arrives, we can set off after a short rest."

Hassan's voice was soft and serene: "However, you still have time to deal with your own affairs, Cursed Wrist."

Through the visor, Silent Hassan's serene, crystal-like purple eyes darkened.

"Because of the poison, I can never love or be loved. But even so, I hope there is someone who can touch me and understand me... So, Cursed Wrist, as Hassan living in this era, I understand your eagerness to fulfill your mission as the Old Man of the Mountain—but, with the chance to reunite with your loved one right before your eyes, you don't seize it... Don't you think that's too cruel..."

"Quiet..."

Hassan, the man with the cursed wrist, was speechless.

He was simply doing what he was supposed to do. For this land, for the people here, Hassan the Cursed Arm was willing to give everything, even his head.

But what about the one you love...?

The heroic spirit with the arm of a demon god silently watched the sun set behind the mountains.

Peace and tranquility.