Boyzilla: The two moons of the Old World are Mannanslieb ("Beloved of Mannan" Mannan is the god of the oceans) the normal moon and Morrslieb ("Beloved of Morr, the god of death) the evil green moon.

And... Hakuno is vulnerable to Distorting Stones BECAUSE she is a Digital Human... a byproduct of digital technology... and Order.

Si vis pacem...

(If you want peace... (1)

When you shake hands with a resident of Marienburg, it's better to count your fingers.
Imperial proverb.

Couronne, the capital of Bretonnia, was a large populous city that spanned the course of the Sannez from its many built bridges (2).

As far as the eye could see trading ships going up and down the river: fat ships laden with building stones or timber, heavy barges loaded with grain drawn from the shore by oxen or serfs dressed in rags.
The High Elves (or Asur) had once erected a stronghold at the Couronne site. Razed by the Dwarves during the War of the Beard, it remained only the foundations of its formidable walls, largely enhanced and strengthened since, as well as a magnificent hippodrome. The latter had been reworked to the tastes of the Bretonnian nobles and was now used at arms festivals, tournaments, and jousts.

Nevertheless, most of the city's buildings were the work of its present inhabitants. They were mainly houses with walls in cobs that surrounded alleys so narrow that the light only penetrated it at noon. Their leper walls were pierced by rare windows stretched with oiled sheepskins. If the houses were not illuminated, these openings should at least be used to empty the pots. The stirrings of bilges that rose from the cobbled streets covered with feces and garbage that the inhabitants trampled did not bother the pigs that fed on this putrid manna. All around, it was only a coming and going of beggars in rags, whores, cutters of purses, or throats where we sometimes distinguished the red and blue uniforms of the men-at-arms.

The markets on the squares were flooded with stalls and shopkeepers from all over the country, but also with jugglers, acrobats, and animal trainers. These were ephemeral villages raised in the heart of the city. They sold everything… since the apothecary remedies, the most diverse local products, the clothes, the utensils of daily life, and even the agricultural tools.

Yet this ordinary life had been turned upside down.

The day before, Couronne had been attacked by the Skavens. These filthy creatures pushed back into the collective unconscious had sprung from legends to invade the streets of a city inhabited by men.

The clash had left the inhabitants shocked... no, flabbergasted.

But the damage done to the Shaylla Temple and the Great Butchery was far too real to be the result of a nightmare.

While the collapsed walls were being cleared, the last Skavens fallen during the battle were being burned by high stakes outside the city.

The population was alarmed and the absence of King Louen Leoncoeur was far from reassuring. As patrols of armed soldiers crisscrossed the streets to maintain calm, small groups of stealthy people chatted in a whisper, casting worried glances around them. They were not aware that they had been gathered there by the insinuations of a magnetic-eyed stranger who had insinuated to them words sowing doubt in their simple minds of craftsmen and beggars.

Oh, those strangers didn't dare say anything that could evoke a message of revolt or blasphemy against the Lady... Simply, these travelers had the art of finding those who did not really have a solid faith and of saying a few words - rarely more- that resonated in them.

It was not so difficult: "His Majesty, may the Lady keep him in her holy guard, was still at war against the Green Skins - cursed monsters- but it is a pity, once again that our good king can do nothing to help the good people of the beautiful Bretonnia." Or: "The Lady of the Lake guides the noble knights in the trials of the Grail Quest. Without the brave knights who would protect us from the Skavens? Except that the Skavens entered Couronne despite its formidable walls lined with towers and the doors guarded by castles, despite the Damsels of Magic, despite the paladins and knights of the Grail..."

There were a few dozen of these skillful-tongued and ordinary-looking men mingling with the other subjects of the kingdom wandering through the streets. They dressed like common men, spoke like them. In fact, they differed from other Couronne inhabitants only by a simple "detail". Concealed by their clothes, each one wore in his flesh a complicated mark that had been affixed to them during a filthy ceremony in the glow of Morrslieb. This mark was a gift; they felt it whisper in their hearts, inspiring their words, making them skilled at the art of speech, seducing by their words...

They had a grandiose role in the order of things. They were sinners of souls and their words were nets that promised miraculous sins to Slannesh, the lord of pleasures, protector of all that is beautiful.

While they were working for their god, others were watching them from holes in the walls, or on the beams running high. Small red eyes watched the discussions and stealthy silhouettes chased the agents of the Lord of Hedonism.

No one paid attention to rats... even when they had glowing eyes of infernal power.

Slowly, Chaos played its part in the shadows.

Was Slaanesh manipulating the Horned Rat?

Was the Horned Rat manipulating Slaanesh?

Did they even know who was using the other for his purposes?

Anyway, the Ruin Powers were playing their favorite game. The Chaos Gods kept their cards tight against the chest, each believing they have the best game. In front of them was the stake of the game... souls, many souls, mortal kingdoms, fabulous fortunes, magical artifacts, and...

And...
The Moon Cell...

Sir Gawain was wounded in the final battle against the Grey Seer.

It was naturally a glorious wound... there was no other for a Knight of the Round Table. Even when Lancelot had opened his finger by twisting the bars of Guenievere's window in his haste to join his lover in her bed...

As Hakuno Kishinami turned on her escort to look at him exasperated, Sir Kay shrugged his shoulders:

"I'm only telling the truth, whether you believe me or not, little mouse. By the way, I talk about it at leisure it was me who almost died in this story and everything ended with a great duel of knights where this great idiot Lancelot - guaranteed 100% everything in the muscles and nothing in the brain- killed Méléagant de Gorre (3). But of course, nobody believes me when I tell the story!"

Hakuno sighed again, without saying a word. She was an ordinary teenager... or at least had long been persuaded. The Moon Cell Sovereign was still struggling to acclimate to her new status.

In the corridors of the gigantic royal castle, the servants in livery bowed in her wake, the noble lord and the beautiful maidens stopped speaking to her approach to making the reverence.

Did they greet her like a queen... yes?

Hakuno had the impression of having a dream... certainly, many little girls would dream of being transformed into a princess and living in a wonderful castle. But not she, Kishinami was always the girl sitting at the last table at the back of the class, the girl not really pretty, the one who didn't talk.
And now it was she who was in the center of the attention of all these noble lords in velvet and silk doublets embroidered with gold, these beautiful ladies dressed in long cotardias and wearing hennins covered with a silk veil. All smiled at her, trying to get her attention.

The winner of the Holy Grail War felt her heartbeat too fast and her hands become sweaty...

Kay, the cunning Kay, felt, of course, his growing discomfort and bent maliciously over his ear:
"You know, little mouse, when they don't wear their big, beautiful dresses, these ladies aren't that impressive... I speak about it in full knowledge."

King Arthur's adopted brother's tone left only one possible interpretation... and Hakuno blushed violently. Proud of him, this scoundrel Kay burst out laughing without hiding as he openly mocked her.
One thing had finally not changed since the time when she was the ugly duck of the class 2-B in the Tsukumihara Academy... Hakuno always had as a "friend" someone who used her as a sideline.

Was Kay's invocation karmic retribution for killing Shinji Matou?

A servant bearing the livery of Bretonnia, red and blue decorated with a crest bearing the golden lion came to open the door to them and to introduce them into the room of poor Gawain. At last poor... as soon as she entered the antechamber, the idea of complaining her Servant had disappeared from the mind of her Master.

Indeed, sounds of voices and laughter came from the other side of the leaf. Hakuno immediately recognized the timbre of Gawain's voice, evidently recounting some noble feat of a handsome and noble knight in shining armor... who was none other than himself!

Each of his words was greeted by sparkling and silly laughs that would have more in place in the courtyard of a middle school for girls...

Upon entering, Kishinami discovered that she had not fallen so far. The average age of the damsels who came to inquire about the state of health of the "poor" Gawain was to be... let's be kind... 15 years? Hardly more... The quick mind of Hakuno had quickly gathered the clues. A handsome wounded knight and young girls belonging to noble houses came en masse to offer their help... it smelled the marriage machinations full nose. The calculations of the mothers, however, were likely to come at a bad time... Gawain could not marry nor have children. He'd been dead for a few centuries, actually.

Unconscious of Hakuno's thoughts, the knight stood up in the pile of cushions that held him upright in the big bed where he lay. He offers her one of his smiles that made the female audience swoon:

"Master Kishinami, thank you for coming to see me. I would get up to welcome you, but the doctor says I need to rest."

Although exasperated, Hakuno couldn't help smiling... she couldn't hold a grudge:

"The Master and the Servant are a team."

"Indeed, we're a team lady Kishinami."

The exchange led to a moment of silence. The young Japanese girl did not know what to say and Sir Gawain was politely waiting for his Master to question him. Eventually, Kay had enough. Raising his eyes to heaven, he took two steps to stand before Gawain and examine him from top to bottom as if he were a strange animal:

"Aren't you dead, Gawain?"

"It seems not, are you disappointed, Sir Kay?"

"Me? Indifferent rather... but you know Artoria, she's got her mind - what absurd idea- that you are the best of her nephews. So you're gonna give me the pleasure of getting your ass off those silk sheets and putting your armor back on. Then you go and knock on her door to reassure her. Artoria never shows anything, because she takes everything on herself. If you're dumb enough to judge a book on its cover, that's your problem. But I assure you that she cares about her family, friends, and people."
Hakuno Kishinami shook her hands against her chest, surprised by Kay's low tone. Admittedly, he was always mocking and unpleasant... at least almost always. However, Camelot's seneschal did not hide a deep hostility.

Gawain was also taken aback and showed a strange expression. He must not have been used to being spoken to so directly. After a few seconds, the knight slowly nodded:

"Yes, you're right, Sir Kay, I'm going to see the king."

Kay approved of a simple sign of the chin and grabbed Hakuno by the arm to drag her without sweetness towards the exit. But Gawain reminded him that he already had his hand on the latch:
"Thank you, Sir Kay."

King Arthur's brother stopped for a moment and answered with a grumpy voice, without turning back:
"I'm not doing it for you."

"I know it, Sir Kay, and I thank you on behalf of His Majesty..."

While Kay continued to pull Hakuno in the corridors, the latter did not formalize it. In fact, she was immersed in deep reflection. A good half of the conversation between the seneschal and the Knight of the Sun had not gone through words. But the Master used to deduce context.

We used to be so amazed at the Knights of the Round Table that meeting them as a group was... disappointing. Once the Grail Excalibur and the heroic quests are removed, that remained?

The Knights of the Round Table were a group of arrogant and jealous people, convinced that their desires were the law and who spent their time speaking in such flowery language that it was not immediately realized that they were insulting copiously.

In retrospect, there was no real reason to be surprised that everything ended so tragically.

King Arthur was a woman who pretended to be a man.

She had married Guenievere for political reasons, and obviously the marriage could not give an heir.

Guenievere cheated on the king with Lancelot.

Mordred the nephew of King Arthur, and his heir, was in fact his incestuous son... no, his daughter... because in addition Mordred also pretended to be a man but was a woman... finally a teenager younger than her!

Finally, how could this have ended other than in a catastrophe?

Only, if Hakuno had understood the exchange, Kay had just lectured Gawain on his selfishness... and in addition, the Knight of the Sun seemed to have understood the lesson.

Maybe this time it wouldn't all end this bad.

Hakuno Kishinami turned her gaze to the seneschal of Camelot.

"What is it?" he says with a scowl.

"Nothing."
But she kept smiling. The Inheritor of the Moon was really starting to like Sir Kay.

This part of the castle was even more splendid than the part in which Sir Gawain lived. Full-plate armors lined the walls, alternating with weapons racks, precious furniture, paintings and tapestries.

There were the apartments occupied by the high-ranking nobles staying in the king's fortress.
Artoria Pendragon was therefore housed according to her rank.

Through a virtual window opened by the Regalia, Hakuno Kishinami saw the silhouette of King Arthur superimposed on graphics, indexing the aura of the King of Knights with measurements.

Closer to the Grey Seer, exposed longer, the Servant had suffered more severe damage.

"What do you think?"

The clear and calm voice of Artoria, a steel blade in a velvet scabbard, ended the long silence of Hakuno. She looked at her servant. Saber was sitting in her bed, leaning against cushions. For once, her mat was undone and her hair simply fell down to the bottom of her shoulders. Since she was wearing a white nightgown adorned with a gold stripe around the collar, no one would have recognized her in the legendary "King Arthur"! In fact, she looked like a girl her age!

A little troubled, Hakuno closed the window and summarized the discoveries of the Moon Cell:

"The Evilstone is formed by crystallized energy in a material form. This energy is like the antithesis of the Spiritrons who constitute the body of a Servant... or a N.P.C. of the Moon Cell like me. If you had been exposed longer, you could have disintegrated."

Artoria's face hardened slightly. On the sheets the hands tensed for a moment... then the knight agreed:
"I understand, Master."

The Servant showed no fear. She had understood the danger represented by the Evilstones, but neither anxiety nor pain could make her back down.

"Fear not, Master, my sword will create a road to victory."

Hakuno shook her head, but she was not very good with words. How can she explain to Saber that she was especially worried about what her Servant would have to suffer to win?

Sitting in an armchair, Sir Kay was busy carving a small piece of wood. He was not a carpenter, and the result drew him a grunt of frustration. He rested his unfinished sculpture and pointed at his sister... very rudely:

"I would really like it, a day that you think before talking! You have no idea what you're doing to me! You really think I want to hear my little sister say, 'It doesn't matter that I am hurt as long as we win". This is always the solution you chose: ' Make a sacrifice of Artoria, she is not important '. King Arthur when you took Caliburn out of the stone you sacrificed Artoria, and then to marry Guinevere... and Mordred... When will you finally think of Artoria? In the list of all the people you want to make happy, there is not a small place for Artoria? "

Camelot's seneschal still had much to say, but King Arthur abruptly interrupted him:

"It's not your to decide for me."

Kay looked for a moment like a big fish opening and closing desperately in search of oxygen. Finally, he appeared to shrivel. His voice became softer, less aggressive:

"Yes, it's your life... and no one can live it for you."

With his hands resting calmly on her knees, looking straight ahead of her, Artoria shook her head:

"I still have an obligation to fulfill."

Kay turned to Hakuno:

"Little mouse; just tell her something, she won't hear me."

But the eyes of the King of Knights hardened as she turned to her Master:

"Master, I am your sword. You point out enemies and I fight them. My duty as a knight is not to fail you. Nevertheless, my private life is only mine. You have no right to give your opinion on this subject... unlike my brother. I would respectfully ask you to stay away, as for you, Sir Kay, avoid having a private conversation in front of an irrelevant person."

Hakuno felt like... scolded. She was not very emotional but a feeling of unease began to emerge as she thought of Artoria. Kay seemed to have a good reason to worry about his sister.

The immense throne room had not changed since the last time. The high Gothic room painted in blue was divided into two naves by a series of pillars decorated with statues representing the kings of Bretonnia.
At the foot of the empty throne stand Robert de Blois, one of King Louen's close companions. Still wearing travel clothes soiled by the dust of the paths. On one sign, two musicians mouthed their trumpet and sounded a resounding bell.

At once, noble lords and beautiful ladies stopped arguing among themselves and turned to Robert de Blois. The latter broke the seal of a sealed parchment before solemnly tendering it to a crier in royal livery:
"Hear, hear, to the attention of the Noble Lords of the Belle Bretonnia as to her good people. I, Louen by the Grace of the Lady of the Lake, King of Bretonnia, salute, and devotion. Being in a campaign to reduce the threat of the Green Tide, report We were made that the borders of Our kingdom had once again been violated by the enemy of Marienburg. In his crazy insolence, the vile enemy did not hesitate to ravage the Marche de Couronne until close to the Tertre de Landrel and the Château de Tancrède. Having made way to the ravaged lands, We discovered the sky red of fire and smoke. Villages looted and burned spread to the borders of the city-state of Marienburg. Yet the enemy had turned back at our sight, abandoning the remains of Our subjects to the ravens. Unable to let the coward of Marienburg retreat into his lair his red hands laden with the booty snatched from Our subjects, We pursued and caught up with him. The battle took place on the banks of the Reikr. In spite of the non-chivalric weapons used by the cowardly enemy, the Noble Youth of Bretonnia broke its ranks, throwing him into the blackest rout. We owe this victory less to our courage than to the grace of the Lady, to be praised for it. In order to put an end to the threat that the merchant princes of Marienburg are imposing on the Beautiful Bretonnia, We decided to reduce the city-state by siege and seize the left bank of the Reikr River in order to guarantee us a defensible border.
Written by Hugues de Saint-Victor, His Majesty's personal secretary, signed and sealed by our hand, Louen Leoncoeur, on the 7th of Harvest Month 1544 (4)"

Hakuno Kishinami shook her hands against her chest. War. It seemed unreal to her, she knew well that the Bretonnia and the city-state of Marienburg were at war. But until then, hostilities had been more measured. Why this sudden outpouring of violence?

She turned to Sir Kay:

"But why did Marienburg attack the Duchy of Couronne? As Chaos threatens to destroy the world... it is absurd."

The seneschal began to smile with a mocking air:

"Congratulations! The little mouse finally understood that humans are not logical. And yes, there are many fat merchants who think only of their gold coins, nobles who care only about their lineages and their rights. And ordinary people die so that the rich are even richer and that nothing ever disturbs the arrogance of those who know no nobility other than the length of a family tree. So when the interests of two collide head-on... "

Sir Kay left the end of the sentence in abeyance, accompanied by an explicit shrug.

Hakuno could not find what to say but... it just seemed wrong. However, as she pondered it, Robert de Blois came closer:

"Damsel Kishinami, His Majesty the King would like to personally thank you for protecting Couronne from the Skavens."

The aristocrat handed a sealed letter from the king's hand. With hesitation, Hakuno took the crackling scroll and broke the seal. The leather sheet was covered with hand-lettering writing with a quill. She looks over it... blinking her eyelids and making sure again to have understood everything... before turning to Kay and then to the Comte de Blois, tilting her head:

"The king offers me a castle?"

Robert de Blois coughed in his fist, while several ladies of the court who were following the conversation carried their hands to their foreheads, on the verge of fainting:

"The Château de Vincennes is a royal residence just outside Couronne. It's time for you to have a court worthy of the Sovereign of the Moon Cell. You will also receive a pension from King Louen to make a living in accordance with your rank, damsel Kishinami.

As Hakuno remained frozen, not knowing what to answer, Kay sighed:

"I will advise you on an appropriate answer, little mouse. You still have a lot of work to do before you become royal..."

Robert de Blois pretended not to hear Kay's comment and handed a second letter:
"Unfortunately, you will not have the opportunity to settle immediately at the Château de Vincennes, damsel Kishinami".

Opening the second missive, Hakuno stiffened, her eyes flickering. The Camelot's seneschal whispered a few unflattering words and snatched the scroll from her hands, read it, and smiled:

"I see, we'll have to earn the pretty castle..."

As many lords were gathered around them, pretending not to listen... but the ear on the pulse, a mocking expression appeared in the eyes of Artoria's brother. He shook the letter of King Louen:

"Do you want to know what's written there? Well, congratulate the little mouse... ah, sorry... I forgot, Little Mouse the First, the Sovereign of the Moon Cell. His Majesty King Louen has appointed her to head the reinforcement army that will join His Majesty in front of the walls of Marienburg. Long live King Louen, Long live Hakuno Kishinami!"

While a chorus of congratulations (more or less sincere) rose, Hakuno continued to beat eyelids, flabbergasted by the situation. Her? General of a medieval army?

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It was an area east of Gasconia, almost to the limits of the Great Forest of Athel Loren, the land of the Wood Elves.

For centuries nothing important had been carried out in these places. However, this long period of luck had just ended.

A battle was ending. A clash of knights, great lords in plates and mails armors carrying large helmets topped with figurines resembling unicorn heads, swords, globes, or roaring lions. Their steeds wore dresses of bright fabrics and they fought with swords, knight's lances.

A cavalcade was heard when mounted troops of knights were charging the banners slamming in the wind. Steel struck steel amidst the cries of war of the victors and the pleas of the vanquished.

The battle was a convulsion of men and horses. Animals whimpered, men cried. The dead and dying were trampled. The trumpets sounded new charges and the swords struck shields or armors... when they did not cut the flesh.

A chivalrous battle, full of glory and violence... yet... yet... some knights were sinister. Their black armor was completely closed, inlaid with pale silver that formed terrifying ornaments: roses, death's heads, and bats. They all wore a kite shield adorned with coats of arms even less reassuring: a black cup overflowing with blood on a red background.

These black knights fought like the best Knights of the Grail, but without passion, coldly, effectively, without saying a word. Wherever they appeared, the enemy knights fell around them.

After more than a hundred Bretonnia knights had fallen, the fifty survivors turned around and fled, chased by some of the victorious knights. The latter had only twenty dead, and wielded their bloody swords, crying out to the glory of their young leader.

The lord of the victorious army, led a true victory procession to the chapel of the Grail which had been the stake of the fight, saluting his allies with his sword. He then set foot on the ground and graciously offered his arm to help a woman do the same. Her face was masked by a veil and long black hair that cascaded to her hips. She wore a black velvet cotardia split up to the top of her legs and with a risky neckline. It emanated from this woman a disturbing aura of sensuality.

"Mother, the moment of our triumph has arrived."

"No, my son... this is only the beginning."

The interior of the chapel was decorated with stained glass windows and junk of weapons belonging to former knights killed for the glory of the Lady and Bretonnia.

With her finger, the witch pointed to the altar and the knight in black armor knocked him down as if he weighed nothing. Under the stone was a staircase. The woman raised a hand and a light lit the damp steps. They descended to an empty crypt... with the exception of multiple chains hanging from all sides. In the middle of this incredible skein, a block of crystal suspended between the floor and the ceiling. It emanated a disturbing glow...

"There it is," whispered the sensual witch.

The knight in black armor approached and looked between the chains... to discover a magnificent golden cup, adorned with a ruby, frozen within the giant crystal like an insect in the amber.

"The Dark Grail! It is even more beautiful than in legends..."

Malbaude de Mousillon burst with laughter... a cold, cruel sound. In the eyes of the sinister vampire, a black and blasphemous thirst had just sharpened:

"Father, mother, and I will be back soon. The family meeting will be very... warm, we come with many guests."
He raised his hand, whispering one of the unholy verses of the Nagash books.

Outside, noises began to sound in the cemetery. The dead broke their graves to get out... skeletons, zombies, and ghouls that soon joined the victorious army. Among them were the knights of Bretonnia who had just fallen. Riding their zombie horses, they had become the parody of their past splendors with their broken and bloodstained armors.

(1) The first part of the Latin phrase Si vis pacem, para bellum meaning "Who wants peace prepares war". It is attributed to the Roman stateman Vegegus.

(2) The built bridges are typical of medieval Europe. Besides the function of bridges, they carry houses on both sides... as an ordinary street located on dry land! It must be said that the building space inside a city surrounded by walls is always limited and that we use all the available space... including the bridges.

(3) In "Le Chevalier de la Charette" of Chrétien de Troyes, the scene where Lancelot cuts himself in the manner told is in verse 4640.

(4) The 7th Erntezeit 2522 of the Imperial Calendar.