Extracting Memories as Reality!

Has it all ended?

As his body slowly awakened from that history filled with struggle and pain, Ian found himself still in the world behind the door.

To be precise, it was the room of Chaldea's 49th Master.

This was a small room, but every part was arranged very reasonably.

A plain wall, a bed of just the right size, a built-in wardrobe that could hang many clothes, and a usable mirror dressing table.

A little further away was a separate bathroom, where taking a hot bath was no problem at all.

The remaining empty space was filled with green plants that wouldn't breed mosquitoes.

Everything was arranged so reasonably.

But looking at it all, Ian felt a subtle sense of incongruity.

What was it?

That's right.

It was the feeling of a working stiff.

Because everything was arranged, and he didn't have much room to change anything, he felt it was "reasonable" but "not to his liking."

He hadn't experienced this kind of torment before he transmigrated. But after coming to this Chaldea, he felt it all keenly.

It was truly an unspeakable discomfort.

But first, let's take a bath to calm down.

With a whoosh, clear hot water gushed from the showerhead, flowing down Ian's hair, washing every inch of his skin.

To be honest—he was a little unaccustomed.

Because the memories in his mind kept telling him that this kind of thing should be done in a large bath filled with fragrance.

The more the hot water flowed, the more obvious this sense of dislocation became.

In the end, Ian couldn't stand it and stopped everything.

He wiped the water off his body, leaned back, and fell onto the bed.

Looking at the ceiling above, the man felt his consciousness gradually drift back to the era of war.

Charging on the battlefield with a sword in hand, trysting with Morgan in the room, and taking a walk with Artoria by the lake.

Every experience was so real, with no trace of falsehood.

If this was a simulation, it would be disrespectful to his feelings.

After all, in his memory, it existed in a completely independent and undisguised state.

"Will we meet again in the future?"

Ian reached out to the ceiling, as if he could grasp something.

"That would be great."

"Then, let's chat with them again."

Although he did have many unmentionable and dirty thoughts in his heart, Ian knew that he sincerely wanted Artoria and Morgan to fulfill their wishes and have the lives they deserved.

If his sacrifice could bring all this, it would be a bargain beyond measure.

Of course, the premise was "if it could bring it."

Ian knew very well that he wasn't the kind of person who didn't want anything in return after sacrificing himself.

He didn't have that level of enlightenment.

But speaking of which—Ian looked at his hand.

The end of the simulation seemed to mention something about Pan-Human History writing some ability into his body.

If so, what kind of ability would it be?

Buzz—the moment Ian had this thought, the lights in the room flickered almost simultaneously.

Although it was only for a short moment, they did happen at the same time.

Ian keenly realized this.

His intuition told him it couldn't be a coincidence.

Then—let's try to go deeper, following the previous pattern.

With this thought in mind, Ian concentrated his attention again, following the same train of thought.

—Hope born from thought—

—Possibilities extracted from the past—

—Transformed into reality with magic power—

—Descended into reality from the simulation—

Ian's thoughts were transformed according to an underlying logic he didn't even know.

He could feel the blood in his body constantly surging in a certain way, as if it would condense at a certain node at any moment.

During this process, he also felt a sense of body operation that was connected in all directions.

The wish to touch the idea gathered little by little, like the QTEs that constantly attacked in a rhythm game.

Now!

Ian held his breath and grasped at the seemingly empty space.

Buzz—all the lights in the room went out in an instant.

But the surroundings didn't fall into darkness.

Of course, this wasn't to say there was an illusion, but that there was another light source.

It was the sword Ian had grasped out of thin air.

Its name was Excalibur Galatine!

"This..."

Looking at the cyan-gold blade that appeared in his hand, and the golden light swirling on it, Ian, whose cheeks were reflected in the same color, looked at everything in front of him in disbelief.

This was not an illusion.

Because he could clearly feel the thickness coming from his hand—this was an experience that only the metal of that era could provide.

And as a weapon that was particularly vivid in that memory, Ian could confirm that the pattern on the blade was exactly the same as in his memory!

Did he bring it to his side, across time?

Did the Pan-Human History ability mentioned in the simulation mean that he could extract things from his memory?

For a moment, Ian didn't know how to describe this miraculous experience.

But—this situation didn't last long.

With a few buzzes, the light bulbs returned to normal.

The warm light filled the room again.

And Ian also saw the Excalibur Galatine in his hand first turn into gray embers, and then shatter into hundreds of particles and slowly dissipate.

Looking at the light screen that dissipated like smoke, he realized that his previous understanding needed to be corrected.

This ability, written into the body by the simulation, did allow him to extract things from his memory.

But its essence was only memory, which would continue to dissipate over time.

In a sense, it was a complete "fake."

But from another point of view, it was a "real thing" that was closely related to the original.

Wonderful!

Ian suddenly became excited.

If his idea was true, then it would be an ability that transcended time.

He had to figure it out quickly.

Being confused wasn't something a good transmigrator should have.

If you want to do it, then do it.

Ian concentrated all his attention again.

This time, he wanted to extract Excalibur from his memory.

This was a blade from the same holy lake as Excalibur Galatine, and it was the weapon Artoria held.

Although he hadn't touched it for a long time in his memory, because of his close relationship with Artoria, Ian still had a very deep impression of it.

Then—let's try again.

But things didn't develop as Ian thought.

He did concentrate all his attention, and he also expressed his strong desire to bring it to his hand.

But this time, the mysterious sense of circulation didn't respond to him.

This made Ian realize that his previous ideas seemed to have some errors.

But he wasn't in a hurry to deny his thinking results.

Maybe—Excalibur was an exception?

After all, Artoria was indeed very famous.

In that case, let's try something else.

This time, Ian chose Aroundight.

This was the weapon held by his friend Lancelot, whom he met in the simulated memory.

Because he had actually fought against it, and later went to defeat Vortigern together, he knew this weapon quite well.

Although the details were definitely not as clear as Excalibur Galatine and Excalibur, it was still relatively easy to draw a rough outline.

Concentrate.

Then generate hope.

But the result didn't change at all.

Aroundight didn't appear in Ian's hand because of his repeated attempts.

This made Ian stop.

No.

He had to revise his ideas.

The appearance of Excalibur Galatine was indeed inextricably linked to his memory.

But not everything that fell into his memory could be reproduced in this way.

Excalibur and Aroundight were the best proof.

Then—Ian pursed his lips.

He stood in front of the mirror on the dressing table in the room, seriously thinking about the differences.

What exactly caused the reproduction of the three lake holy swords to show two completely different effects?

Ian considered this question, and then subconsciously looked up at the mirror in front of him.

After seeing himself in the mirror, he suddenly understood everything!

That's right!

The biggest difference between Excalibur Galatine and Excalibur and Aroundight was himself, wasn't it?!

He was the former owner of Excalibur Galatine in the simulated memory!

The latter two blades, although they had a definite relationship in cognition, didn't actually reach this level!

So there were two completely different results!

Then—Ian looked at his hand.

Thinking in this direction, he should be able to take out another blade from his memory.

His fist entered the grasping state again.

His attention was completely focused.

Remembering that moment in the past.

Buzz buzz—!

The light bulbs in the room went out again.

It was this feeling!

"Come out!"

After Ian shouted this, he once again pulled out a blade from the air.

It was a long sword with a slender blade, engraved with Morgan's name.

It didn't have much legend.

It was merely a weapon Morgan had given him to achieve her goals.

This was Morgan's Sword!

Looking at the blade filled with blue light in his hand, Ian smiled happily.

This wasn't just about seeing a familiar weapon after a long time, but also a further correction of his previous ideas.

Extracting weapons from memory (×)

Extracting weapons from memory that are related to oneself and have a close connection (√)

Given the vast difference in legendary status between Morgan's Sword and Excalibur Galatine, the judgment range of this ability was probably quite broad.

In the blue glow emitted by the disappearing blade, Ian's mood gradually became pleasant.

After all, if all this was true, he would have to find ways to leave more corresponding traces when he entered simulations in the future.

In this way, it would be possible to reproduce more things.

But—what could these reproduced weapons be used for?

And he was now facing a major problem.

How could he make these items extracted from memory last longer?

Ideally, they would stay by his side forever.

This wasn't a question that could be answered in a short time.

He had to find ways to get more information.

Thinking this way, Ian looked at the room he was in.

Before experiencing that British history, he had heard many strange terms in this place called Chaldea.

Magic—?

Singularities—?

Servants—?

At that time, he couldn't understand what these words meant.

Now, recalling them, they seemed to be closely related to Morgan and Artoria's era.

If he could figure out what these things were, he might be able to know what to do to maintain their existence.

If he was lucky, he might even be able to meet them sooner?

But who should he ask about these things?

He didn't know anyone.

Ian, who was unfamiliar with the place, pondered the few memories he had about Chaldea.

Wait a minute!

It seemed he wasn't completely unfamiliar with anyone.

Before entering that simulation, he had a small accident with a pink-haired girl in the corridor.

He had even commented on her chest at the time.

If he could find her, he might get the answers he wanted!

Ian never procrastinated.

After tidying up his clothes, he decided to go out and find the pink-haired girl.

It didn't matter if he didn't know her name; he could just gesture his way through, and someone would remember.

Being thick-skinned was a necessary rule for survival in today's society.

Click.

The door opened.

Ian, who was about to leave, froze.

Because he never expected that the moment he opened the door, there would be a creature, which he couldn't tell whether it was a cat, a dog, or a rabbit, standing there.

"Fou fou fou?"

It mumbled a strange sound.