Hebe and Mordred were heading toward the metal bridge shrouded in dense fog, the bridge that led to the Silent Bookstore.
Earlier, the bells of the Silent Bookstore had rung nine times.
"Could Little Hebe be the Silent Bookstore's new administrator?"
Presis pursed her lips and indignantly pulled the huge pot of stew entirely in front of herself.
Martial Practice Garden.
This time, Hebe did not choose the greatsword. Instead, she chose another, slightly smaller but equally heavy broadsword.
Below the weapon rack, ornate script described some of the original owner's deeds.
—"Skadi's Training Sword."
"Yth, Atlantis, Agor... all of these names refer to that city which once flourished and has now sunk beneath the seabed. Rashly receiving visitors from Atlantis is dangerous and unwise, but at least one guest from the deep sea once visited this place and left behind a replica of her weapon. In tribute to Lady Skadi."
This sword was heavy. Its crossguard stood apart from the plane of the blade and had been sharpened separately, extending into six serrated teeth on either side.
The entire broadsword could hardly be called sharp. Its best use was probably to smash into someone, then drag the blade along and crush them into two pieces.
Mordred casually picked a training sword, then angled it and assumed a stance Hebe found somewhat familiar.
Even with her face concealed, even though she held only a training sword rather than wielding crimson lightning and blazing fire, Mordred still carried an air that could only be called "pride."
She brought a young lion to mind.
So it was you. Hebe thought calmly.
Then she stepped forward and brought her sword crashing down.
Mordred raised her sword to block... but failed!
The former Knight of the Round Table's eyes widened.
What terrifying strength!
In that instant, Mordred completely separated Hebe from "Merlin" in her mind.
How could that light and airy Court Sorcerer, so skilled in illusion, possibly be the girl before her wielding Superhuman Strength?
After realizing this, Mordred's expression grew grave. As she retreated to bleed off the force, she flipped her wrist and pressed her training sword upside down against the broadsword in Hebe's hands.
With Mordred's wrist strength, coupled with the weight of the training sword itself, she was certain this should have exceeded Hebe's limit.
But what made her lose her composure once again was that Hebe swung the broadsword one-handedly, sweeping aside the training sword Mordred had pressed against it.
Then the broadsword swept sideways once more.
Mordred was so furious that she laughed—could this really count as swordsmanship?
This was clearly just suppressing others with brute strength.
She raised her leg and kicked the blade Hebe had swung at her, leaning her body backward.
Rather than throwing Mordred off balance, this movement let her slip beneath Hebe's sword range with uncanny agility.
She swung her sword toward Hebe's knees.
Yet the broadsword returned to defend once more—Hebe released her right hand from its grip and, just as it was about to fly free, caught the hilt with her left hand before smashing it into the ground.
The broadsword pierced the ground, perfectly halting Mordred's attack.
The training swords collided with a crisp cracking sound.
—The sword in Mordred's hand remained intact, but cracks rapidly spread across the broadsword in Hebe's palm, shattering it into fragments at astonishing speed.
Sobek's Training had taken effect.
That swordsmanship which had once stirred raging tides in the deep sea now belonged to Hebe.
She calmly watched Mordred, looking at a face unlike the one in her memories. "Thank you very much."
Mordred seemed to awaken from a dream.
She felt some regret, even an inexpressible sense of self-reproach—why had she used such a dangerous sword technique against Hebe?
If Hebe had not reacted in time, that strike could even have broken her leg.
"It was my fault." Mordred looked almost flustered. She hurriedly apologized, then fled as though escaping.
Hebe stood in the lush green Martial Practice Garden, silently watching Mordred's receding back. She had almost reached out to pull Mordred back, but ultimately did not.
She merely watched Mordred leave.
Then Hebe raised a hand to her forehead and laughed softly.
The original Mordred had not possessed that sort of personality. It seemed Morgan had taught her well.
"You've grown up, Little Mo."
Author's Note on Going Premium
How should I put this? It was that time again.
The story would go premium tomorrow.
My longtime readers who knew me were aware that I usually shared some thoughts in these notes. Well, this time was no exception.
First, let's talk about Hebe's character concept.
The current Hebe was someone passionate about conquering Lostbelts and curious about the unknown. She never boasted about how many people she had saved, nor did she believe she necessarily stood on the side of justice, but objectively speaking, she had indeed allowed more people to live better lives.
Hebe was not insensitive to feelings, but she did not believe she deserved to be loved—not because she belittled herself, but because she was too clear-headed.
She was the sort of person who would unhesitatingly put herself on the gambling table for a better outcome, much less stake "feelings" and "love." Yet in Hebe's understanding, feelings were difficult to clearly divide, and love was not something that could be gambled with.
Yet Hebe knew the cost of doing so and was willing to accept it. As the saying went, better to sink in eternal damnation than seek salvation from the saints. Hebe made promises to everyone, and the price was herself.
Of course, when she carved open her heart to gamble against fate, would the people she had saved not reach out a hand to her?
They would.
Hebe promised them that everything would be in order, so I must also promise Hebe that everything would be all right. It would definitely be a happy ending.
Next, let's talk about all the stitched-together elements. I think many people had some doubts: Hajiqing, exactly how many world settings have you stitched together? How many elements have you blended in? Can you really handle all those characters with such different personalities?
Well, how should I put it... when I designed this book, I first built the world setting.
The real world used the Arknights world as its foundation, fused with the modern Type-Moon worldview. The so-called "simulated worlds" were presented in the form of Lostbelts. When Hebe rewrote history, the changed results would also be reflected in the real world.
The power system was my own creation, with references to Cultist Simulator and Type-Moon.
If you were familiar with Type-Moon, it would be easy to see. Marks and accomplishments could be directly substituted with skills and Noble Phantasms.
Esotericism, Type-Moon, and Arknights were the three pillars of my world-setting stage. So what about others, like Toyokawa Shoko? After being adapted again, their settings were connected into this worldview.
The characters active on the stage mostly possessed certain distinct elements, stacked together like building blocks. Some blocks with the same elements could be swapped out at any time, but what mattered was finishing the stack without letting it collapse. The Toyokawa Family's appearance was foreshadowing for the Eastern Nation arc.
Next, let's discuss the update schedule readers care about most.
At present, I owed nineteen chapters of updates. Once again, thanks to Renda Yuuza and the Eighth Consul, Remnant Wolf, for their treasure chests. To be honest, without those two chests, I probably would have been a one-round wonder after using up my recommendations. The people of this land have tolerated me; I must not take money earned through sin. No matter what, this book would definitely be finished, and it would be finished beautifully, or I would be letting down all the brothers and sisters who tipped, subscribed, bookmarked, and voted.
I was, after all, a proper old nobody whose every premium novel had been completed. How could I throw away even that bit of credibility?
Honestly, that was exactly why I still felt as though I were dreaming—the results had exceeded what I expected, and even felt a little unreal.
Really, really, thank you all.
The update standard was two chapters a day. As for a big update burst when it went premium... I had to work until the 27th, so I probably would not be able to write a few extra chapters until Lunar New Year's Eve. Please forgive me.
Theoretically, I should not be opening rewards in my current state, but let it count as giving myself a little pressure.
I would already be satisfied with two hundred first-day subscriptions. For every additional one hundred average subscriptions beyond that, I would add one chapter—this would remain in effect until the end of the story.
One gold treasure chest meant ten extra chapters. This would also remain in effect until the end. For now, though, let's put this one on hold. I really could not finish that many updates.
During the premium recommendation period, two thousand recommendations, two hundred monthly tickets, or two hundred blades would earn one extra chapter. That might be a bit too greedy, but setting the bar higher would at least give me some breathing room.
Also, a quick plug for the group: 667225594. The entry answer is Wandering Traveler. Everyone discussed settings and exchanged plot theories in the group. Those interested could join.
Besides that... what else was there to say?
Other than thanks, there was nothing more.
Qing Sanren offered his gratitude.
Volume: Eastern Nation Arc
New Lostbelt, the Demon Fox and the Snake Who Called Himself a Dragon
Hebe passed through the long corridor alongside the sea breeze, carrying her sandals as she walked barefoot along the path embedded with colorful stones.
Her linen-colored long hair drifted in the wind.
The courtyard's green trees were lush, growing wild and unchecked as though restrained by nothing at all.
She had previously been able to sense that "Little Mo" seemed to want to draw closer to her, yet kept her distance with a conflicted hesitation, like a traveler walking through a cold night who suddenly saw a blazing flame.
Only when Hebe saw that familiar, flamboyant swordsmanship, like that of a young lion, did she confirm Mordred's identity.
"Good." Seeing that Mordred was living well now, Hebe finally felt somewhat relieved.
She still remembered how she had used methods that could be called dirty to hold the not-yet-rebellious knight in the palm of her hand. At the time, she had firmly believed she controlled the course of the future and had foreseen everything without exception.
But Morgan had still become the Fallen Empress, Arthur's heart had still grown ever harder, and the day of the Battle of Camlann was drawing near.
After that, Hebe preserved Mordred's spiritual body. She knew Morgan would inevitably take Mordred away and create a new body for her. If everyone Hebe had known had already returned, then the chains woven from lies must have long since decayed, and Mordred would grow freely somewhere in this world.
By then... even if she encountered someone as awful as Hebe again, it would be fine.
—Because Mordred had already grown up.
The girl with linen-colored long hair stood gently in the wind. She looked at her palm, carefully studying the tangled lines as though she could see all those people whose hands she had once held.
Hebe bent down, put on her sandals, clapped her hands, and headed back toward the central courtyard.
"Good morning, good afternoon, and good night to you all."
"And may you never again be entangled by a liar like me."
In the north-facing bedroom by the sea, a card depicting a full moon and fox tails glimmered faintly on the computer's dark green desktop.
Hebe sat before the desk in silence for a long time, then clicked the card representing the Eastern Lostbelt.
"Secret History Simulator 1.1 welcomes your login, The Knower."
"The gate to Eastern Lostbelt: Chronicles of the Far Eastern Demon Fox—Sword of the gods' Passage has opened. You may choose to enter and begin your conquest at any time."
"No method of conquest will result in true death."
"This Lostbelt is divided into three parts: upper, middle, and lower. The Completion Rate of each part does not affect the others. Only after one has been completely conquered will the next stage open."
"This Lostbelt is under special observation. Multiple deaths will reduce the final rating!"
"The general stands firm, the Imperial Monarch remains nameless; horns severed and sinews broken, the dragonkin flee for their lives; genius envied by heaven, fallen before coming of age... All say that foxes are born with nine tails, their power reaching heaven. Whoever gains it may have their wishes fulfilled."
"Please record your story. We will ultimately cross over the long night where moonlight flows like water."
Once upon a time, there was a mountain. In the mountain was a temple, and in that temple lived no monk.
"Where's the dragon? It's clearly a snake."
A fox stood at the temple gate, looked at the statue above it, and curled her lip.
Dust on the ground gathered together, forming words that only the fox could see.
Hebe Stanton / Tamamo-no-Mae Path: None Principle: Cup (Lostbelt-exclusive). A principle representing desire, temptation, and pain. Rank: Enlightenment (Lostbelt-exclusive). The first rank of the Path of Ascension. Current Lostbelt Completion Rate: 0%
"Civilization is conquering the wilderness, and the violence of order will ultimately surpass barbarism. This is the manifestation of the Power Struggle between Scar Father and Remnant Wolf. As the 'Demon Fox,' you may side with either party to advance your conquest of the Lostbelt."
Before you continue