Chapter 237: The Definition of Conquest
After retracting her Reality Marble, Aestus Domus Aurea, the Roman Emperor of the early centuries CE—the famous and arguably unique Nero Claudius—had not spoken again.
She merely stared fixedly at the rising sun in the distance. Its radiance reflected an endless brilliance, shining upon the bustling modern metropolis. Skyscrapers stood like monoliths, and brilliant rainbows refracted between the panes of glass.
A moment later, the Emperor of Roses exhaled softly.
"Umu… Is it dawn?"
"Rome, two thousand years later, is also doing very well!"
Servants summoned by the Greater Grail are inherently endowed with modern knowledge. Nero naturally knew that the Roman Empire had long since disappeared from history—otherwise, she wouldn't have known of Altera's existence.
Yet, she showed no anger towards Altera, the one who had, to some extent, destroyed Rome. She treated this era, and this city, with the same imperial impartiality she had shown her own dominion.
Rome two thousand years ago was the Roman Empire.
Rome two thousand years later is the spirit belonging to all humanity.
The sparks of technology and humanism flourished in this era. And this was precisely the glory of Rome left by Rowe, ignited by Nero.
The petite yet voluptuous young Emperor, dressed in a fiery red gown, stood with her hands on her hips, her crimson sword, Aestus Estus, planted by her side.
She smiled radiantly. "My Rome—I have returned!"
Then she turned her gaze to Artoria, who had been watching her in silence.
"A successor of Boudica, is that right?"
Artoria nodded. "Yes, Your Majesty Nero."
Camelot originated from Rome. Whether it was the political system, the military ideology, or even the initial treasury and armaments, all were obtained from a fragmented Rome.
Therefore, that Camelot was born from the seeds of Rome is an undeniable fact.
The King of Knights could not, and would not, deny this point. She harbored no hostility towards this Roman Emperor.
Of course, in disputes concerning Rowe, she would not yield an inch. But that would be a matter for later.
"My name is—"
"Arthur Pendragon. The world-renowned King of Knights, King of Storms, King of the Wild Hunt. I still recognize you!" Nero interrupted Artoria with a wave of her hand.
"In terms of titles, Your Majesty Nero is still far more grandiose than I," Artoria responded, though her brows furrowed slightly.
She wasn't surprised that Nero knew her name; it would be strange if the imperial authority held by the self-proclaimed 'King of the World' didn't possess a skill equivalent to True Name Discernment.
What surprised her more was… why was Nero so calm after Rowe was taken away?
It was clear from that brief encounter just now that Nero's pursuit of Rowe was equally fervent and intense.
"Haste is useless." Nero's smile remained unchanged. The distant sun fell upon her and also shone upon the flowing Mion River, sparkling brightly. "That fellow is not a simple opponent, is he?"
"That is true." Artoria agreed deeply. "As a King, one should also possess patience—"
"Umu? What a good junior, aren't you?" Nero tilted her head, looking into the calm azure eyes of the King of Knights. "Then why don't we take a good stroll in this modern society? What do you say, Greek huntress?"
"Ah, whatever!" Atalanta tossed her long, unkempt hair.
Haste was indeed useless. Rowe had already disappeared at this very moment. But in this Holy Grail War where no one cared about the Holy Grail, he would surely reappear.
…Then.
"What a hunter needs most is patience."
"I—will not lose to any of you!"
Nero, Artoria, and Atalanta reached a temporary consensus at this moment:
"Stop fighting. First, find the one who took Rowe."
"Then, internally, decide the final victor!"
As the last words fell, Artoria's figure vanished into spirit particles, and Atalanta departed under the fading moonlight of early dawn.
Only Nero remained standing, her red dress fluttering in the wind.
"Patience, huh…"
A King indeed needs patience, but Nero has always been a capricious Emperor.
The reason she could restrain herself.
The reason she could be calm at this moment.
It was simply because…
*Rowe's first time, I have already… taken it!*
The young Emperor's beautiful face showed a smile of supreme satisfaction. Under the heavy curtain of the Golden Theater, it seemed to be only a moment, but in reality, the flow of time inside the Reality Marble differed from the outside.
From the outside, it seemed like an instant. But inside, they had been entangled more than once.
Nero did not know that Rowe was not purely a Servant; he had merely restrained his power, and his body was still his main body. She only thought that the Rowe who appeared in the present world was a construct, yet still pure.
—Then, that was enough.
Having tasted the sweetness, Nero naturally wanted more. She still wanted to reclaim Rowe. But there was no need to rush now.
"Contend, my juniors! Only when you discover that Rowe is already mine, will you truly know the greatness of Rome!"
"Rowe is always Rome's Adjutant. My Adjutant."
"I am Rome!"
The wind swept across the grass, raising a sky full of debris, and the red Roman Emperor dissolved into golden dust under the rising sun.
---
"Have you finally left… Maiya."
"Kiritsugu, I've already booked the plane tickets—"
"No, that was just a joke."
The man who appeared in the corner rubbed his temples, his black trench coat swaying in the morning breeze.
Go back with his tail between his legs? Kiritsugu Emiya really wanted to. But after preparing for so long, the Magus Killer was still a little unwilling. What he said earlier was just out of frustration, but Maiya Hisau seemed to have taken it as a direct order.
"Then should we cancel? If we cancel now, it seems we can still get a full refund…"
*Is that the point?*
"Ah, sorry. The airport said that if we insist on canceling the tickets, they hope we can provide some feedback, and there's also a gift package as a token of appreciation."
"…"
After an eerie silence, Maiya Hisau seemed to remember her primary duty.
"Maiya!" The Magus Killer, his face weathered and weary, threw the cigarette butt from his mouth to the ground and crushed it. "Did you write down all the names of those Servants just now?"
---
"Gilgamesh, the protagonist of the oldest epic in human history, the Hero King of the city-state of Uruk in the Mesopotamian Plain. According to later records, he ruled the underworld not as a god, but as the Grand Judge, presiding over all life and death."
"Atalanta, the huntress of Greek mythology, a devotee of Artemis, and a hero of the Age of Gods who sailed on the *Argo*."
"Nero Claudius, Roman Emperor in the early centuries CE, whose dominion encompassed all of Europa and extended into North and West Asia—the self-styled 'King of the World'."
"And finally, Artoria Pendragon, the King of Knights of Camelot, Britannia. She broke through the blockade of the European continent with only the forces of the British Isles, sweeping through the West, hailed as the King of Storms."
In the Tohsaka family basement, Tokiomi Tohsaka, who had been sitting there until daylight, listened to his disciple, Kirei Kotomine, deliver the summary. He exhaled a heavy breath.
"Either famous kings or extremely powerful heroes?"
"Teacher, more importantly, there is a commonality," Kirei Kotomine said respectfully. "The oldest king you summoned had the Sage 'Rowe' assisting him."
"The Greek huntress Atalanta had extensive interactions with a heroic mentor also named 'Rowe'."
"Nero was able to rule such a vast territory with the help of a 'Rowe' who facilitated her expansion. And the King of Knights possessed the title of 'Wild Hunt'… The original possessor of the Wild Hunt was also named 'Rowe'."
These pieces of information might have been dismissed as coincidences before.
After all, following the era of the Sage of Uruk, the name "Rowe" became an etymological source of wisdom in the Western world. It was only natural for people to be named after him.
However, judging from the actions of this group of Servants, these many Rowes were, in fact, the same person.
That name started in Mesopotamia, passed through Greece, traversed Northern Europe, arrived in Rome, and finally influenced the Kingdom of Camelot.
Perhaps… it was the same existence.
"A… ghost, entangled in human history?" Tokiomi Tohsaka spoke in a low voice.
"No, Teacher." Kirei Kotomine's expression was extremely solemn. "That is not a ghost."
Of course, it couldn't be a ghost. If he were a ghost… then what would the Mage's Association and the Holy Church, both of which originated from his teachings, actually be?
Tokiomi gave a bitter smile. This Holy Grail War had completely exceeded his expectations.
But he didn't want to give up. He refused to give up.
Because the Hero King had already returned to the Tohsaka residence from the banks of the Mion River.
As long as he held this 'card'—he still had hope.
"Then, what about the Master's information?" Tokiomi's voice once again echoed in the sealed basement.
---
"Hahaha! So this is Fuyuki? A battlefield where many heroes gather, yet it's crammed into such a small area?"
"Rider! You big oaf, you're too conspicuous—hurry up and spiritualize!"
"Spiritualize? What a joke, kid! True conquest must be done openly and honorably to be truly satisfying!"
"Besides, it's not that I'm big, it's that you're too small. Hurry up and get stronger, Waver Velvet!"
"You damn guy, let me down!"
At Fuyuki Airport, the slender young man held aloft in the hands of the red-haired giant shouted and yelled, drawing curious glances from passersby.
---
"Was that disgusting old worm your grandfather?"
"Yes. But we still thank you for helping us get rid of him."
"Ah, it sounds like a fellow as nasty as Zeus!"
In the Matou Residence, a man with a robust physique, wrapped in a chaotic black aura, rubbed his head and showed a hearty, albeit strained, smile.
He had manifested as a Berserker. But apart from the mad roars and curses that surfaced during battle, his everyday demeanor was polite, like a mature gentleman.
"But it's alright."
"Nasty guys must be defeated, and darkness must be expelled."
"My teacher taught me so."
"Teacher? Is it the centaur Chiron?" Kariya Matou, who had some knowledge of mythology, was curious.
Rin Tohsaka—or rather, Sakura Matou—also blinked, showing a curious expression.
"Of course not." The burly great hero rubbed Sakura's head with his large palm. "It's another one…"
"My spiritual mentor. Mr. Rowe."
---
"So, where are you trying to take me?"
"Rowe. Bad guy."
"I asked where we're going, not whether I'm bad or not."
"Bad guy."
"…"
*I think you're more like a broken record, aren't you?*
Still in Fuyuki City, but clearly in a dense forest in the suburbs, Rowe stepped on the muddy ground dampened by morning dew. Sunlight filtered through the thick canopy, dappling his body. He looked ahead at the figure tightly gripping his hand.
The white veil on her head swayed, covering her pale short hair. Her features were delicate and beautiful, and her barely covered body was dark and athletic, marked by strange, glowing tattoos. Her muscles rippled with kinetic potential as she walked, her gait precise.
She didn't look at Rowe but kept her gaze fixed straight ahead.
After 'abducting' Rowe using her own peculiar logic, all Altera said was 'bad guy'.
Of course, what Altera didn't know was that Rowe had intentionally allowed himself to be abducted.
Dealing with one is always better than dealing with several. For Rowe, Altera was an opportunity to escape the chaotic battlefield.
But at this moment, Altera was unyielding, repeating the same words, uttering the same unchanging sounds.
As the avatar of the White Titan, the destroyer of civilizations, her body possessed a skill called *Natural Body*, granting her resilience that made it difficult even for the Sage of Uruk to simply shake her off without escalating the conflict.
But at least the situation he faced was no longer as chaotic as before.
Rowe spoke while pondering how to balance the power within his body so as not to appear too passive.
They walked for another half a day. Altera was behaving as usual, but Rowe noticed a shift.
"You wouldn't… not know where to go at all, would you?"
"Bad guy—"
Altera's tone changed. The figure with her back to Rowe visibly paused. Her small, delicate earlobes trembled slightly, a faint blush rising.
Rowe smiled. "It's normal not to know where to go."
"Actually, I don't know where to go either. After all, there's a whole bunch of people chasing me."
"Hmm…" Altera let out a low hum.
Just then, the sky suddenly changed. Dark clouds rolled in from all directions, swallowing the horizon. The world grew dim, and thunder roared ominously overhead.
Altera looked up at the sky, her expression shattering. She clutched Rowe's hand even tighter, her grip bordering on painful.
She suddenly strode forward, breaking into a run.
"Wait…" Rowe was stunned, pulled along by her sudden momentum.
But soon, he realized. "Are you afraid of thunderstorms?"
"Thunder… is bad guy!"
As if disliking Rowe's slow pace, Altera turned directly and scooped Rowe up into a princess carry. "Running slowly is also bad."
"…"
*Was I just looked down upon?*
If he didn't want to flip the table, would it be like this? Rowe muttered a few words to himself, and then quickly… resigned himself to fate.
His current situation wasn't exactly captivity; he could run if he wanted to. But just as he had told Altera, if he fled now, he had nowhere else to go. Rather than being chased by a coalition of angry Queens and Emperors, it was better to stay here.
And being held like this wasn't entirely unpleasant. Altera's chest didn't have significant volume, but her athletic body wasn't hard; instead, it felt soft and extremely elastic—a testament to her biological perfection.
In the dim world, pale short hair streaked through the forest like white lightning.
---
Beyond the cloud cover.
Three fluffy tails stood erect in the wind on the mountain peak, and a graceful, beautiful figure fluttered her long sleeves.
"The last trace… did it break here?"
"Lord Rowe—"
Tamamo-no-Mae, the three-tailed Servant manifestation of Amaterasu, the deity who governs the sun and sky, summoned wind and rain, enveloping and sealing this mountain.
Mist filled the wilderness.
"You won't escape."
"I won't repeat past failures, you know?"
---
In the dim world, there was a bumpy swaying. The scenery on both sides rapidly receded, leaving only the whooshing sound of wind in his ears.
This feeling continued until Rowe felt a little sleepy. Then, a slightly hoarse voice sounded in his ear.
"Dark clouds are bad."
"Lightning is bad."
"Heavy rain… is bad."
The girl carrying Rowe in her arms was expressionless. Rain began to fall, and a vast mist enveloped the world. Thunder still roared continuously.
Altera remained expressionless, but those slightly reddish-golden pupils couldn't help but waver.
She was afraid.
Or rather, the Avatar of Destruction, once defeated by the power of the stars and the Holy Sword, feared the natural power of the planet.
Altera, the King of the Huns who conquered most of Europe and swept across the Western Roman Empire, feared stormy weather. She would be paralyzed with dread whenever abnormal weather occurred.
This is documented in reliable historical records. Later generations speculated that Altera's had contracted a chronic illness from a cold during a campaign, while others guessed he had developed a mental illness from the slaughter.
But the true reason stemmed from her 'previous life'. The pain of being defeated by the Excalibur, conveyed by her main body, was constantly entangled in the deepest part of her soul.
Hence, she showed a vulnerability not present in her usual demeanor.
Yet, even with fear in her heart, she still held Rowe tightly. Protecting him beneath herself.
She, who once didn't understand why people could persist in being their own 'master', now treated Rowe as the anchor of her existence.
"There's a cave ahead, let's hide in there!"
Running further would offer no place to hide. Rowe pointed ahead.
*A cave? Where?*
Altera was stunned, looking at the smooth mountain wall in front of her. Indeed, there was nothing there.
However...
Golden ripples instantly spread, and countless sharp Noble Phantasms emerged from within the Gate of Babylon. After a deafening roar, the stone shattered. The mountain opened up.
"Now there is." Rowe smiled.
Altera nodded and, without hesitation, stepped into the newly carved shelter.
The space inside the cave was not spacious, but not cramped either—more than enough to accommodate two people.
"Can you put me down now?"
"Rowe is bad guy, so no."
"Then can you loosen your grip a little?"
"Bad guy, so no."
Despite there being plenty of room, Altera pressed her body tightly against Rowe, leaning on him against the cold stone wall. Her athletic physique sank slightly as they pressed against each other, and her legs, displaying surprising strength, clamped around his waist. They embraced face-to-face, her head burying itself into the crook of his shoulder.
Rowe helplessly averted his gaze, trying to avoid looking directly into those crimson-gold eyes.
I can't.
She just won't let go.
She wanted to get even closer—
Boom!
The wind and rain outside the cave intensified, the thunder cracking directly overhead. Altera's grip tightened spasmodically. Under her immense parameters, Rowe felt a distinct sensation of suffocation.
But after the suffocation, a certain human impulse surged.
Fear. Dread.
She didn't want to let go.
No matter what…
"You are bad guy."
"So, I will imprison you within me."
Altera slightly turned her face, bringing her crimson lips close, and gently 'bit' Rowe.
Lips collided, tongues intertwined. Before Rowe could react, Altera invaded his mouth with the efficiency of a conqueror.
It was a very direct action. She still retained the personality of a warrior. Rational, logical. Decisive and swift. Making it impossible for Rowe to break free.
However, the original Altera should not have known such things.
"Did you… see what Nero did to me?" This was the only possibility.
Rowe had a bit of a headache. Why was it like this again?
It wasn't hard to understand Altera's reaction; overcome by fear, she sought to merge with her pillar of support.
But…
"I can feel that your purity still remains."
*Where did the 'first time' come from!? Is this an infinite first-time system?*
"I… will conquer you."
After their lips separated, a suddenly gentle tone emerged from Altera's mouth. With this shift, Altera, in her maiden personality, appeared soft and shy.
Yet, she remained firm.
"Bad guy."
As the words fell, she shifted her weight, pressing herself against him with undeniable intent, sealing his escape not with stone, but with flesh.
"…"
Move?
I can't move.
If he didn't move, he would explode.
But if he moved, the world would explode.
So at this moment, Rowe could only resign himself, letting Altera do as she pleased. Letting her… entangle him wantonly in this dim world, shielded from the roaring thunder by nothing but their shared heat.
He had just been with Nero… although facing Nero was also 'forced'.
Rowe never thought of shirking responsibility, but he also never expected such a development…
But this was the Holy Grail War!
---
The thunder gradually subsided.
Rowe opened his eyes. He immediately saw the sunlight shining through the shattered mountain entrance. The muddy world outside shimmered with brilliant rainbows.
He sat up.
Altera, still tightly holding his arm by his side, also opened her eyes.
She smiled.
"Bad guy… Good morning."
"My name isn't Bad guy."
"Oh… I'm sorry." Altera, in her maiden mode, seemed very gentle. "But… you are indeed very bad, aren't you?"
"…"
Rowe glanced sideways, sweeping over the disheveled state of the cave, and lightly coughed.
"The weather's clear. It's time to go."
"Oh, okay."
Altera also sat up. The rain had stopped and the sky was clear; it was indeed time to leave.
At the same time.
On the overlapping mountains, in a world made even brighter and clearer after the wind and rain dissipated, Tamamo-no-Mae looked down from the peaks.
She smiled, her eyes curving into crescents. "I found you."
"At this time, are you still maintaining your pure body…"
"If so, this pure body."
"I'll take it without ceremony—"
"Okay?"
.....
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