Fairy Round Table Realm, Poem of Eternal Mist

"Don't speak, I'll heal you right away." Ignoring his own injuries, Senji Muramasa focused intently on casting healing magic. Gareth immediately joined in to assist. Artoria gazed at the old man's anxious profile, a strange sense of familiarity welling up within her—why did this seemingly rugged man show such tender concern?

"Mr. Muramasa," she asked softly, "why are you so kind to me?"

"Does this even need a reason?" Senji Muramasa continued treating her without looking up. "How could I, an old man, stand by and watch a young person get hurt? Especially a girl like you." A warm, healing light flowed from his fingertips. "I will never abandon anyone in need."

Sei Shonagon sighed softly beside her: 'Perhaps Lord Muramasa already understood in his heart...'

With the combined efforts of the three, Artoria and Sei Shonagon's injuries gradually stabilized. At this moment, Oberon helped Leonardo da Vinci into the hall; her right hand was still swollen and red, with the outline of broken bone clearly visible under the skin.

"How is Leonardo da Vinci?" Senkomura asked anxiously as he stepped forward.

Artoria and Sei Shonagon also gathered around anxiously: 'Da Vinci!'

Oberon shook his head heavily, remaining silent for a long time before finally speaking with difficulty: 'It's terrible… her right hand's metacarpal bones are completely shattered. Although I've used healing magic, this level of damage… I can't do anything about it.'

Leonardo da Vinci was writhing in agony, his breathing rapid, cold sweat pouring down his forehead. His once cheerful face was contorted with pain, and his limp right hand was a horrifying sight—bone fragments piled under the skin and swollen blood vessels forming a gruesome scene.

"Aaaaaah...it hurts so much..." Leonardo da Vinci's cries were filled with despair. This pain of shattered bone was far worse than the injury of a severed limb; sharp bone fragments constantly cut into the internal tissues, bringing continuous and excruciating pain.

Artoria hugged her tightly: 'Hang in there, Miss Da Vinci! You'll get better!'

Senjimura gripped his sword hilt anxiously: 'Ritsuka's whereabouts are unknown, and Da Vinci... Gareth, aren't you fairy knights supposed to be able to sense each other?'

“That being said,” Gareth said gravely, “only His Majesty can possibly know Bedivere’s whereabouts. Mordred’s finding her last time was purely by chance… The most urgent matter is to take Leonardo da Vinci to the River of Tears! I have a way to alleviate her suffering.”

Oberon looked up abruptly: 'You mean you're going to use that...?'

“That’s right.” Gareth turned to the tavern owner. “Mike, you should stay out of there for now. I can’t guarantee that woman won’t come back. I’ll cover the tavern repair costs.”

'But Lord Gareth,' Mike hesitated, 'I…'

"No need for further words," Gareth interrupted decisively, "I will compensate for all losses. Leave Oxford first, settle in, and contact me. I will send soldiers to protect you."

Mike finally nodded heavily: 'I understand... Please take good care of little Da Vinci; she's helped me a lot these days...'

Artoria suddenly remembered something: 'The River of Tears seems to be quite a distance from here...'

'I can get there quickly with my teleportation magic,' Gareth began drawing a teleportation array. 'Fortunately, I didn't use too much magic when fighting Diana.' (Bedwill—what are you plotting? Only you and that bastard Diana probably know the answer to that question—)

Sin - Fairy Round Table Realm, Poem of Eternal Mist

Fairy Kingdom - River of Tears

As the light of the teleportation magic faded, the group found themselves on the riverbank shrouded in pink mist. The River of Tears possessed an eerie pink hue that echoed the sky, so thick that nothing beneath the surface was visible. A peach-colored haze perpetually floated on the river's surface, and a sweet, fishy scent filled the air. In this dreamlike yet dangerous waterway, a gigantic dark shadow could be vaguely seen lurking beneath the surface.

Gareth carefully placed Da Vinci among the ferns on the riverbank, then slipped behind a large rock. The moment the communication crystal lit up, it reflected Mordred's anxious face.

"Head Maid? His Majesty is presiding over a clan meeting." Mordred lowered her voice. "What has happened that requires urgent contact?"

Gareth briefly recounted his experience at the tavern. When the name 'Diana' was mentioned, Mordred on the other end of the crystal veil abruptly sat up, his golden pupils contracting sharply: 'The woman who should have been lying on the autopsy table?! I saw her vital signs with my own eyes!'

'I wish it were just my imagination, but…' Gareth's voice trembled, 'she even displayed power beyond what she had shown before…'

"What's all this commotion?" The conference room door suddenly opened, and Morgan appeared behind Mordred. As she took the crystal, the sapphire brooch on her uniform flashed coldly: "So they did take action after all... It seems I underestimated their madness."

"Your Majesty, Leonardo da Vinci's right hand metacarpal bone is completely shattered, and the other two are also cursed." Gareth knelt on one knee, "I have failed in my duty..."

Morgan lightly traced the crystal surface with her fingertips: 'Now is not the time for blame. Sylph should be able to lift this level of curse.' She suddenly turned to Mordred, who seemed hesitant to speak, 'What are your concerns?'

"Those two 'Children of Hope'..." Gareth answered for her, "...may harbor some resentment towards Sylph."

Morgan remained silent for a long time, his sigh mingling with the sound of the flowing river: 'Tell them, the ghost has awakened. It's pointless to concern ourselves with personal likes and dislikes now—if that being were to fully awaken, all of Britain would be reduced to ashes.'

Senji Muramasa suddenly clutched his forehead, a strange whisper echoing in his mind:

"Should we still persist?"

Even if it's a dream destined to shatter?

He shook his head and leaned against the basalt rock on the bank of the River of Tears. As Oberlin approached with concern, the old man gazed absently at the golden beam of light shining through the pink sky.

"Gares took Artoria to the herb garden along the coast." Oberlin handed her a bunch of fluorescent moss, saying, "This 'Startear Moss' can temporarily relieve pain."

Qianzicun gently touched the glistening dewdrops on the moss: 'Youth is wonderful; one can still travel far and wide to gather herbs...'

"You make it sound like you're too old to walk," Oberlin chuckled. "But to be honest, you look better than many young people..."

Before the words were even finished, the River of Tears suddenly erupted into a raging torrent! Pink waters surged skyward, and a hurricane ravaged the crystal-clustered forests along its banks. Amidst the swirling, glowing spores, a figure clad in red and white armor descended from the heavens. Her fiery hair danced wildly in the wind, and her transparent wing membranes refracted iridescent light.

"Looks like you're doing well, Mr. Fugitive." Mordred's blood-red eyes swept over the ready-to-fight Senji Muramasa. "Don't worry, I'm not interested in playing with you today. I'm here to heal my wounds."

The fairy knight Mordred's gaze fell on Leonardo da Vinci, who was in Artoria's arms. Da Vinci was still wracked with pain, his right hand, held in a makeshift brace, swollen like a ball, the accumulated blood turning his entire palm a horrifying purplish-black. Just witnessing this sight was enough to make one feel excruciating agony.

“I asked Lord Mordred to come and help,” the fairy knight Gareth explained. “Only she can lift the curse Bedivere has placed on us.”

Senji Muramasa suddenly recalled their conversation at the tavern—the fairy knight Bedivere habitually imbued her weapons with malevolent curses, and the pain inflicted by her silver needles and blood-stained blades would be ever-present. This meant that both Sei Shonagon and Artoria...

'That woman has long been a scourge.' Mordred's voice was filled with suppressed anger. 'I truly don't know why His Majesty appointed her as a fairy knight... and that scoundrel Belial...' She clenched her fists. 'It was our dereliction of duty that led to the deaths of Skate and that foreign magician.'

"Skate? Do you mean Artoria?" Senko asked, puzzled.

"You didn't know?" Mordred asked, slightly surprised, then waved his hand. "We'll discuss the details later; the most important thing right now is to treat them."

With Gareth's assurance, Senji Muramasa and Oberon finally lowered their guard. The katana dissipated into particles of light, and the fluttering butterflies quietly settled. Only then did Mordred approach Artoria and Leonardo da Vinci with peace of mind.

"It's been a long time, Scart," Mordred said softly, a soothing glow emanating from her fingertips. "His Majesty has always been concerned about you."

'I understand Your Majesty's intentions, but...' Artoria hesitated.

“No need to apologize,” Mordred gently interrupted. “His Majesty said that everyone has their own path to choose. Flowers in a greenhouse can never truly grow…” She suddenly frowned. “So, you’ve fallen under that woman’s curse too.”

Through his magical vision, Mordred could clearly see the black, misty curse swirling within Artoria's body, intertwining with normal magic to create a nauseatingly distorted spectacle. Da Vinci's condition was even more horrific; his swollen, deformed right hand was too painful for Mordred to bear looking at.

'I will heal you right now...' Mordred was about to cast a healing spell when Artoria gently stopped him.

"Please wait a moment." Artoria looked towards the riverbank. "Sei Shonagon has also been struck by Bedivere's silver needles. Could we wait for her to return so we can treat her together?"

Upon hearing that name, Mordred's expression froze instantly. Her previously composed face darkened, and her raised hand slowly fell, as if weighed down by heavy memories. After a long silence, she finally managed to speak: 'It's not impossible...it's just...I can't face that child...'

'Why is that?' Artoria asked, puzzled.

Just then, Sei Shonagon and Gareth returned from the riverside herbal shop, chatting and laughing.

'Little Jia from another world! I've bought everything you wanted~'

'Little Jia from another world? Noko, that's quite a nickname...'

'This is cuter, isn't it? Eh...no way...'

The moment Sei Shonagon looked up and saw Mordred, the laughter and chatter ceased abruptly. Time seemed to freeze; the three stared at each other, their eyes filled with shock and bewilderment. Only the sounds of the wind and water continued to flow, unable to break the suffocating silence. Senko and Oberon exchanged perplexed glances, but neither could shatter the heavy, prolonged silence.

"Muramasa, look at that little house over there!" Artoria suddenly pointed to the opposite bank of the River of Tears, "It wasn't there in the fog just now..."

Following the direction of her finger, a dilapidated wooden house entwined with vines appeared and disappeared. Qianzicun kicked open the rotten wooden door, and in the dust that rose, a yellowed parchment book lay quietly beside the fireplace.

【My name is Kelpie, and I was once a water sprite of the Scottish waters.】 The opening words are as deeply engraved as if carved by a knife. 【I am shaped like a steed, but with sharp teeth and strong hooves enough to repel any intruder. For centuries, I have lived here peacefully with my companions who regard me as family.】

[Until those butterfly-winged fairies stormed in, launching an attack under the guise of 'eliminating a menace.' I initially disregarded them, but I never expected they would summon an earth-elemental archmage—the only being capable of countering my water-based power.] The handwriting began to distort. [They severed my forelegs, slaughtered my people before my very eyes, and poured poison into the thousand-year-old spring... The blonde fairy remained smiling, her butterfly wings stained with the blood of my people.]

When I awoke, the entire body of water had turned blood red. The corpses of my people floated like fallen leaves... I sat in the torrential rain, letting the downpour lash me, as if accepting divine punishment.

To survive, I was forced to take human form—the very form of the invaders I loathed most. Many years later, I buried my last companion and wandered to Edinburgh. A harsh winter nearly took my last breath, and on my deathbed, I met a scarred young girl...

"To die like this?" A woman's voice echoed through the snow. I looked up and saw a woman draped in a mink cloak, her blue eyes like frozen lakes. "I am Morgan, Queen of the Fairy Kingdom. If you seek revenge, come with me."

She bestowed upon me the name 'Bedwill the Fairy Knight,' forging hatred into my armor. From that day forward, Kelpie was truly dead.

The last few lines were covered in smudges, with only fragments of words like "possessed" and "girl" legible. Senjimura gently stroked the scroll, as if he could touch that bloody past through the pages. The crowd fell silent, finally understanding the shattered past hidden behind those bloodstained hands.

Outside, the fairy knight Gareth stood silently on the banks of the River of Tears. His icy eyes reflected the pink water, and ice crystals formed at his fingertips fell silently to the ground. Everything was progressing precisely as Morgan had predicted—

Fifty-eight years ago, when Kelpie abandoned her true name to become a fairy knight under Morgan's command, the life she had saved on the Edinburgh ice plains was forever etched with the painful memory of her people's annihilation. Even as she guarded the royal city and upheld justice alongside the Queen every day, the flame of revenge never died out in her heart—the image of those butterfly-winged fairy fairies' beautiful wings stained with the blood of their people had long become an unforgettable nightmare.

Before truly embarking on her revenge, the fairy knight Bedivere always presented herself as the perfect knight. The smile in her azure eyes was like the water of a spring lake, and no one could imagine what kind of dark tides surged beneath that clarity.

The turning point occurred during a royal procession. As the Knights of the Righteous Guard escorted several assassins towards the prison cart, a sudden and unexpected event occurred—several transparent water blades slashed down from mid-air, and the assassins' heads exploded like ripe fruit! Brain matter and blood splattered onto the pristine stone pavement, the escorting soldiers vomited uncontrollably, and the onlookers fainted from shock. Even the other five battle-hardened elf knights were stunned speechless by this sudden and brutal massacre.

"Are you insane!" the fairy knight Gawain roared first, "Even if they are assassins, they should be put on trial—"

Lightning crackled at the fingertips of the fairy knight Lancelot: 'He's never been this ruthless in battle. What possessed him today?'

'I understand your desire to protect your mother,' the fairy knight Tristan's harp strings trembled slightly, 'but this will only attract more avengers!'

The fairy knight Mordred slammed his greatsword heavily on the ground: 'Do you know how much this act tarnishes the honor of the fairy knights!'

Faced with the accusations of the crowd, Bedivere remained silent. She herself couldn't explain why—when her gaze fell upon those assassins, images of her people being slaughtered would flood her mind, and the urge to dismember her enemies would coil around her heart like a poisonous vine. What terrified her even more was that when warm blood splattered on her armor, an unprecedented pleasure would surge through her veins.

This public torture and murder ultimately ended with Bedivere's imprisonment in the Void Prison. But the deep-seated evil had already sprouted, and in her dark cell she murmured to herself: 'So this is the pleasure killing can bring... Why be so obsessed with revenge? Wouldn't it be more wonderful to let more lives blossom in suffering?'

From that moment on, the elegant knight fell completely. Countless innocent residents became sacrifices to satisfy her perverse desires, their blood staining the dark alleys of Britain.

"Tsk, you think a barrier of this level can stop me?" A mocking female voice suddenly pierced the darkness. "You seem to still not understand your own position—"

The magical barrier shattered like broken glass, and Morgan's figure slowly emerged from the dust of light. The hem of her blue uniform swept across the ground, and her blonde twin tails shimmered with a honey-like luster under the corridor lamps. With a light tap of her ebony staff, the cage binding Bedivere instantly turned into stardust.

'Your Majesty…' Bedivere huddled in the corner, his single eye reflecting the cold smile of the other man, 'What exactly are you…'

'What a worrying child.' Morgan leaned down and pinched Bedivere's chin, a hint of pity flashing in his sapphire eyes. 'You didn't really think my magic couldn't break this third-rate trap, did you? But considering you're incorrigible—' The staff suddenly burst into a bright light, 'This time, I'll let you sleep forever.'

As the light faded, Morgan hurried to the corner. Fujimaru Ritsuka lay unconscious in the center of the magic circle, tears still streaming down her pale face. 'It's alright now,' Morgan gently brushed the dust from the girl's hair, 'From now on, no one will be able to hurt you...'

A healing aura emanated from her fingertips, but she abruptly stopped the moment she touched Ritsuka's forehead—below the girl's collarbone, a faint butterfly-shaped birthmark shimmered with an eerie blue light. Morgan gasped: 'This mark...could the prophesied 'Tear of the Star' actually be her?'

Encounter - Fairy Round Table Realm, Poem of Eternal Mist

Queen's Palace in the Fairy Kingdom of Camelot

Inside the dark blue-black bedroom, only a few flickering, dim purple candles dispelled the darkness. The light and shadow cast deep, unfathomable outlines on the walls, enveloping the room in a mysterious and oppressive atmosphere.

Morgan, the ruler of the Fairy Kingdom, sat alone before her dressing mirror. She had shed her usual regal attire, wearing only a simple, dark blue silk blouse and trousers. Even more striking was her once-famous golden hair, now flowing like moonlight, a silvery-white hue – perhaps her truest form after shedding all pretense.

Holding a mithril comb, she slowly and methodically combed her long hair, but her gaze fell on a freshly scabbed wound on her arm.

"You really tricked me..." she whispered to herself in the mirror, her fingertips gently tracing the scars. "I never thought even my precognitive magic would miscalculate."

Just then, a cautious knock came from outside the door.

"Come in." Morgan didn't even turn his head, his voice returning to its usual coldness.

A royal soldier in standard armor entered the room respectfully, holding a crystal that shimmered with magical light: "Your Majesty, the Wind Clan has sent an urgent magical communication."