"That's annoying. When you're chatting up a lady, you mention someone else. It seems His Majesty the Sword Emperor doesn't really understand how girls think."
Merry smiled sweetly, her expression harmless and doll-like.
"Haha, how self-righteous, magician. You're the one who doesn't understand. All glory, all beauty, all greatness in this world—belongs to me. Whether man or woman, you should offer your entire being, including your soul and body! That is the honor I bestow. Understand?"
Lucius spoke without reservation.
Arrogant. Domineering. Barbaric.
No—natural, for someone like the Sword Emperor.
"Oh~ So annoying! You're not romantic at all—it completely clashes with proper aesthetics. I can't agree with it no matter what~" Merry covered her mouth as she chuckled, though there was a flicker of seriousness in her eyes. "A girl's heart should be captured (deceived) with sweet words and lovely actions—that is art, and that is beauty. Knowing that... I simply can't entrust my king to someone like you, Your Majesty Lucius."
That—was serious.
She meant it.
Lucius could tell.
So this despicable woman really did care that much about Artorius.
Of course, he wasn't in the mood to discuss how to win over a girl's heart.
Neither was Merry, honestly.
This mission had been a hassle from the start.
Obviously, this kind of work should've gone to Merlin.
Sure, the enemy's magic was crude, but he was still a man, and prone to solving problems with brute force. Merlin—Merry—held different beliefs. Ever since splitting from her original self, she had her own code: beautiful magic and charming smiles were a lady's weapons.
So Merlin was in charge of dying for Britain, and Merry was in charge of being beautiful.
Unfortunately, after what happened to Arturia last time, this dangerous task had fallen to her.
So—
Having not replenished Arthur's "energy" in months, Merry had decided to reward herself with some playful satisfaction.
"But even though the person in front of me is someone else, he's so obsessed with my king... it seems His Majesty the Sword Emperor likes my king quite a bit."
"Of course!" Lucius said without hesitation. "Artorius is the greatest treasure this world has given me! He is mine! There's no doubt about it!"
Behind him, the courtiers and magi said nothing. They were used to this.
But the newly summoned Servants—standing not far away—looked at their Master as if staring at a moldy, unburnable trash heap.
Disgusting.
Utterly revolting.
The personality was one thing, but this hobby?
They hadn't expected to be contracted to someone this warped.
The three Servants showed synchronized expressions of nausea. The two male Servants, in particular, visibly tensed—defensive, on edge, repulsed.
"Oh my, I see now. Big sister understands. After all, my king is just that cute. It's no surprise a man might fall for him." Merry nodded solemnly, playing along. "Hehe~ But the more I hear, the more regretful I feel."
"...What did you say? What happened to that guy Artorius?!" Lucius asked, stiffening with alarm.
"It's not a big deal," Merry said breezily. "But my king once said... he hates you very much. So, sorry—Your Majesty Lucius, you really don't have a chance."
"Haha! That's all? That's nothing!" Lucius laughed madly. "Even if he doesn't like me, I'll make him like me! That's nothing more than resistance waiting to be broken!"
His expression turned twisted.
No one resisted the Sword Emperor. He'd simply use more... persuasive methods.
For Lucius, watching someone beloved succumb to humiliation—that was art. That was treasure.
"Still not giving up? Do you really need me to say it out loud?" Merry's smile grew brighter. "Fine, then. I'll say it. On the night I left for Rome... my king became my man. That's right! His body, his color, his soul—they've all been dyed in big sister's dreamy hue! Sword Emperor, you have no chance~!"
Lies?
Of course.
But beautiful, instinctive lies—Merry was quite practiced at them.
"What did you say—!!!"
In an instant, Lucius erupted.
A terrifying magical pressure swept across the palace, so intense that his bright red hair looked stained with fresh blood.
The air turned heavy.
And the next moment—his Imperial Privilege surged.
The magic sword Florent, held tightly in his hand, roared with overwhelming power.
In a flash—
The Sword Emperor vanished and cleaved Merry in two.
Unfortunately, she was the Flower Magician.
"Now, now... don't be so angry. I only took something that was never yours anyway. Cough cough. My king... ah, he hates violence~ Don't waste your precious sword energy. You can't stop me~!"
Merry's figure flickered and reappeared, not even a thread of her clothes singed. Her expression was filled with impish glee and provocation.
That's right—Merry is immortal.
But Lucius wasn't her only problem.
This time, the threat came from the Servants, too.
One figure appeared silently behind her—faster even than Lucius' outburst.
In his hand was a machine gun, already spitting bullets.
Origin Bullets—designed specifically for killing magi.
"Ah-ah, sneak attacks are no good~! Big sister sees everything~☆!" Merry said, twirling around and smiling sweetly.
As she laughed, Lucius, now blood-eyed and enraged beyond reason, raised his blade once more.
"All who stand in my way—DIE!!"
A torrent of magical power burst forth, condensing into a blinding beam of light—
—And detonated.
In an instant, the palace was engulfed.
Merry and Assassin were swallowed in the blast.
"Assassin—!" One of the other Servants gasped.
Their expressions changed.
They hadn't even fully arrived in this world yet, and one of their own had already been killed.
By their own Master.
This was absurd.
Utterly ridiculous.
Before Lucius could catch his breath, a few petals drifted past his vision.
They swirled provocatively around him, mocking.
And Merry's voice rang out again, as carefree as ever.
"My, my~ What a barbarian. He even destroys his own Servants out of anger. Is this confidence... or just the classic arrogance of a so-called emperor? Well—I still prefer my dear King Arthur after all~"
This time, Merry didn't reappear.
She had really fled.
The ritual was ruined, one Servant was dead, and the summoner had lost his temper.
"...Tch. Not only was I summoned with such a sacred object, but my Master turns out to be this kind of trash. God, how disgusting. Makes you think—maybe humanity does deserve to be destroyed."
One of the Servants sneered openly.
The other folded his arms.
"While the overall objective may have been achieved, I cannot condone the weakening of our force due to something as meaningless as rage. What a waste."
Apparently, summoning a Servant didn't guarantee loyalty.
-End Chapter-
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