[After you received aid from the Eclipse Princess, your journey became incredibly smooth. No more obstacles, no more tricks from Merlin. He vanished from your path like he was never there.]
[Even Kay asked where Merlin had gone. You gave him a simple answer: "He was here all along. It's just that neither you nor I could see him."]
[Kay went silent after that, lost in thought, clearly struck by the weight of your words. For a moment, it seemed like he saw you in a new light—like you'd grown sharper, wiser.]
[His eyes hardened with conviction as he straightened up.]
["Thanks for answering my doubt, my king."]
[You gave a nod, saying nothing more. He turned around and walked away.]
[Later, a group of young villagers came forward. Despite their pale faces and weakened bodies—clearly still suffering from having their blood drained by vampires—they stood firm.]
[They wanted to follow you on your journey, determined to become heroes. Their condition was poor, but their resolve was solid.]
[They didn't flinch in the face of hardship. They were passionate, even desperate, to become wandering knights beside you, hoping to save others from the same misery they'd endured.]
[You let out a sigh. The world was full of terrible people, no doubt. But moments like this reminded you—there were still good ones too.]
[People who worked hard, who refused to chase selfish desires, who chose instead to make the world even slightly better for someone else.]
[Seeing that, you gave them a nod of approval. You respected their choice. And you accepted them—deciding, then and there, to train them properly. To shape them into true knights. Chivalrous ones. The kind who protect the weak and fight against evil, no matter how ugly it gets.]
["Thank you, Sir!" they said, bowing deeply, respect raw in their voices.]
[You raised your hand, cutting them off.]
["Artoria," you said. "That's my name. Don't call me 'Sir.'"]
[There was a beat of silence. Then, one of them straightened and saluted.]
["Yes, Miss!"]
[You rolled your eyes, but you let it slide. They didn't call you Artoria, but 'Miss' would do. It wasn't about the title—it was about knowing who you were.]
[You weren't Khan here. Not anymore.]
[You were Artoria. And you were going to play her role, fully and completely, until this Simulator Life route came to an end.]
[Afterward, your reputation as a knight began to grow, even if only slightly at first. But you had no intention of stopping with just one village. You kept moving, kept pushing forward, rescuing villagers from one place to another—people who were plagued by disaster, whether it came from nature itself, roaming bandits, twisted mages, or heretics trying to use them for experiments or sacrifices. This land was full of bizarre, fucked-up shit—there was no shortage of madness.]
[Life for ordinary folks here wasn't easy. With no king on the throne and no proper order, they were just fragile mortals struggling to survive in a world where freaks walked around wielding magic that could twist nature itself. Phantasmal beasts roamed the wilds, evil fae lurked in the forests tempting or tormenting the foolish, and mad heretics were always scheming to revive long-dead religions, often driven insane by the power they chased.]
[As you traveled from one village to the next, your group of knights-in-training started to grow. Most were still green—young boys and even a few girls, but their lack of experience didn't mean shit compared to their will. They were fired up, determined to become true knights and stand against the filth plaguing the land. Using the gold and assets your biological father left with Sir Ector, you armed them—basic swords, serviceable armor, whatever they needed to at least not die on the first battlefield.]
[Your work didn't end with just saving villages. You also took on escort missions for merchants being harassed by bandits or attacked by phantasmal beasts on the road. Sometimes it was church members needing help, sometimes spoiled nobles dealing with petty problems—lost cats, stolen coin purses, or even missing children.]
[There were times you had to step in to calm tense shitshows too—mediating between bickering nobles and stubborn church officials, breaking the jaws of kidnappers hired by rival noble houses, and earning the trust of a grieving noble father after you returned his abducted child. Conflict was constant in this land, and somehow, you ended up dragged into all of it—but you didn't run. You stood your ground and kept pushing forward.]
[In every walk of life—whether among the poor, the middle class, or even the rich—you had become a well-known figure. Your name carried weight, and many had chosen to join your team. No longer were you just a band of wandering knights scraping by; you had matured into a fully established force, backed by widespread public support, significant financial resources provided by noble patrons, and even the official safeguard of Camelot itself.]
[Your knights were no longer aimless travelers. You had spread them across the kingdom, organized and strategic. You established a guild—one that accepted commissions from anyone in need. Whether commoners or landowners, anyone facing hardship could request your help, and your team would answer.]
[But with that growth came consequences. You made enemies—powerful ones. Bandit lords hated you for tearing their operations apart. Cult leaders despised you for dismantling their networks and dark rituals throughout Camelot. And certain nobles were seething because you kept interfering in their dirty, backroom dealings and shady power plays.]
[Still, none of that ever really mattered. Your strength, your reach, and your reputation had grown so vast that these enemies could do nothing but swallow their pride, pinch their noses, and curse their bad luck under their breath. They couldn't touch you, not without risking everything.]
[Thankfully for them, as long as they didn't cross paths with you directly or cause trouble where you could see it, they still had some breathing room, some space to move behind the scenes.]
[That, more than anything, was the reason they hadn't tried to besiege you—at least, not yet.]
["Little girl, it has been two years, isn't? You have grown alot." Altrouge complimented.]
[Currently, you were sitting in her lap, accepting her praise as she stroking your blonde hair with possessive intent.]
[You didn't act on it, there are no need for it, leaning against her was so comfortable for you, her body was so soft like pillow as you half awake and half sleepy in her lap.]
["I'm not a little girl," you shot back at her, eyes locked with a stubborn edge.]
["In human terms, sure... you're already an adult," the Eclipse Princess said with a teasing smirk.]
[She leaned in just a bit closer, her voice dropping into a playful whisper. "But compared to me? I'm far older. So much older."]
["Older than my grandma," you replied with a grin, eyes gleaming with mischief.]
[Her smile vanished in an instant.]
[Her expression turned cold, shadowed by something far darker than mere annoyance.]
[She stared at you in silence for a moment, the air thickening with tension, power, and something feral.]
["...It seems," she said slowly, voice now a low, dangerous purr, "you need to be punished, little girl."]
[Her hand reached out—not soft, not gentle—but commanding.]
[Possessive.]
[Her fingers curled around your chin, forcing you to look straight into her eyes, eyes that now glowed with ancient heat, the kind of hunger that came from centuries of denying herself indulgence.]
["You want to act like a brat?" she murmured, lips brushing dangerously close to your ear. "Then I'll treat you like one."]
[You swallowed hard—but you didn't move away.]
[Because deep down, you wanted that punishment.]
[She suddenly shoved you down, pinning you hard against the ground.]
[Her eyes flared with intensity, fierce and commanding—like a predator about to devour you.]
[But you didn't flinch.]
[You smirked.]
[With a soft grip, you cupped her cheeks, pulling her into a deep, hungry kiss.]
[And just like that, her aggression melted into something hotter—something feral.]
[This time, she didn't hold back.]
[Her hands tore your dress apart, ripping through the fabric like it offended her.]
[Your legs were forced open, completely exposed beneath her as she looked down on you with a sadistic glint in her eyes—a dangerous, dominant grin that promised no mercy.]
["I won't be calling you 'little girl' anymore, Artoria. There's no need for that now. You've grown a lot."]
[She stripped herself bare in one swift motion, her naked form radiating power and heat.]
[And then she mounted you, her slick folds grinding against yours as she slammed down without hesitation.]
[Your moan was helpless, raw—her pace unforgiving from the start as she rolled her hips with wild purpose, grinding your pussy into hers, forcing wave after wave of pleasure through your body.]
[Every thrust, every wet, slippery grind sent shivers ripping through you.]
[Ah…]
[Was this really sex?]
[You could barely think—only feel.]
[The heat of her body, the friction between you, the way her breasts bounced and her nails dug into your skin.]
[It was bliss—the kind of mind-numbing ecstasy your male self had only fantasized about.]
[Before your alternate male self ever got the chance to lose his virginity, it seemed your female self had already discovered what it meant to be completely fucked senseless by someone who knew how to ruin you just right.]
[You held her tighter, arms wrapped around her waist as your bodies slammed together, pussy grinding against pussy, clit grinding on clit, the sounds of wetness and skin slapping echoing shamelessly.]
[Both of you were moaning like vixens—shameless, desperate, insatiable.]
[And you didn't stop.]
[You kept going.]
[Over and over, grinding, thrusting, losing yourselves in each other.]
[Until the end—when both of you finally collapsed, bodies twitching, limbs entangled, completely wrecked and drenched in sweat and cum.]
[Exhausted.]
[Sated.]
[Fucked out of your minds.]