Fairy Round Table Realm, Poem of Eternal Mist

'They won't even give me a chance for revenge...' Liliana's soft laughter shook the dust from the rafters. 'Then let all of Britain be buried with them.'

Far away in Mecca, Sherlock stroked the crystal ball with bloodied fingers, its reflection illuminating Vivian's pale face. 'The second seedling has taken root.' He kicked aside the lifeless servant at his feet, and three clones simultaneously bared their fangs. 'Guess what will happen when she learns the reason her best friend became a butcher…'

Vortigern's phantom spread its dragon wings atop the blood-stained pile of gold coins: 'Will there be a scene of killing one's own family?' The dragon's roar caused the six corpses in the secret chamber to convulse simultaneously. 'How anticipated, this farce nourished by suffering—'

The crystal ball suddenly shattered, revealing an image of Vivian catching the Holy Lance with her bare hands. The girl's beret burned in the gale, the scattered sparks resembling shattered starlight.

In the moments before Mashu was swallowed by the time-space vortex, Morgan grasped her wrist and whispered, "Some truths can only be buried in the dust of the past." The Queen's breath carried the chill of the Inner Sea, "You will meet me before I wear the crown, and you will understand the destiny of 'Galahad the Fairy Knight'... But remember, the past is fragile glass."

Mashu stared intently at Vivian, who was huddled inside her cloak. The lingering effects of the Holy Lance's judgment still gnawed at the earth, and the torches of the search party occasionally flashed past the cave where they were hiding. The Black Knight wiped the blood from her blade: 'Negotiation might buy us a chance to catch our breath...'

"That's suicide!" Totorut kicked over a water jug. "Those clan chiefs' feasts are always only big enough for corpses!"

All eyes suddenly focused on Mashu. The girl gripped the edge of her shield tightly: 'I think... we should trust the newly formed clan.' She avoided Totolut's piercing gaze, 'After all, the current rulers aren't from the Eternal Era...'

Vivian's beret, removed, curled into a sorrowful arc at her knees. Mashu sifted through her murky green eyes for lingering memories—the blonde fairy who had once woven a wreath at Liliana's knees, now her hair streaked with age. As the shouts of pursuers echoed outside the cave, Vivian suddenly buried her face in Mashu's shoulder armor, her trembling back digging painfully into it.

'I'm afraid...' A soft sob mingled with the smell of blood and rust, 'afraid of becoming the second His Majesty...'

Mashu suddenly remembered Morgan's warning before she traveled through time. At this moment, she was standing on a historical fault line, while among Vivian's fading blonde hair, a few strands were gradually being tinged with the silvery white of the future queen.

-

Vivian's fingers dug blue marks into her cloak: 'Mab... are you truly willing to offer us shelter?'

The years of exile had etched deep lines at the corners of her eyes, and now, standing before the bustling streets of the royal clan, she felt as if the lights would burn her pupils. Mabu took her trembling hand and placed it against his heart; a steady heartbeat emanated from beneath his gilded robes: 'The shadow of the Holy Lance's judgment should dissipate, Lady Vivian.'

Mash's gaze, however, was fixed on the young man behind Mash. Yuther's gesture of bowing with his hand on his sword almost made her summon 'King Arthur,' only the ivy patterns entwined on his armor reminding her that this was still a Lostbelt. When his azure eyes met hers, she silently tightened her grip on the runes on the inner wall of her shield—Morgan's engraved warning was faintly burning.

"We yearn for the first rays of dawn after the truce." Moonlight ink flowed from the unfolded parchment scroll held by Uther. "Have faith in the Royal Family's sincerity in restoring order."

The Black Knight couldn't resist touching the plump fruits in the market, while Totorut remained intently focused on the expressions of every passerby. Vivian was suddenly stuffed with a handful of starbell flowers by a child, and as the soft petals touched her bloodied fingertips, tears that hadn't fallen for years shattered the dewdrops on the petals.

'Hope…' she murmured, unaware of the calculating motives hidden in the exchanged glances between Maib and Yousser. In the shadows of the street corner, several cloaked figures were etching the image of Vivian accepting the bouquet into crystal.

Deep within the ruins, Vortigern chuckled softly, his dragon wings sweeping across Vivian's rekindled hope reflected in the water: 'What a beautiful illusion...' He licked the congealed blood between his claws, 'What a look of despair you'll wear when you discover that this so-called refuge is nothing but an exquisite cage.'

At that moment, Vivian was gazing at the newly erected peace monument in the center of the square. The words "Eternal Calendar" on the monument made her vaguely see Liliana's profile as it crumbled in the light of the Holy Lance.

To understand why Mab and Uther became the twin pillars of the Royal Clan, we must turn back the clock to the embers of the Eternal Era. The mud-brick house where Mab was born reeked of cheap ale year-round, and her childhood was woven from her father's drunken curses and her mother's suppressed sobs. When Lord Manel's servant kicked open the wooden door, twelve-year-old Mab was stuffing the last half of a loaf of black bread into her younger brother's mouth.

"The son must pay for the father's debts!" ​​The butler slammed the IOU onto the leaking wall, the sickle reflecting the mother's pale face.

In the landowner's estate, Maibu learned to remain silent amidst the whipping. Her unexpected act of writing homework for the young master earned the tutor's praise, which led to her being given the task of cleaning the study. Whenever moonlight streamed through the iron bars of the windows, this bruised girl would lie on the stone steps, engrossed in studying the Clan Code, her only companion the violet specimen tucked between the pages.

The turning point came on a snowy night in the year 984 of the Eternal Calendar. Liliana's Knight Commander suddenly led his army to surround the manor, and evidence of the Manel family's collusion with traitors was discovered on the spot. As shackles bound the wrists of the former ruler, Mab quietly picked up the patriarch's seal that had rolled off the corner of the table—the bronze griffin ring that would later become the authority of the royal clan.

However, the arrival of calamity plunged the newly freed people back into panic. When the entrance to the basement where the Mab family was hiding was fought over by their neighbors, it was she who raised a rusty pitchfork to protect their last chance of survival. On the way to the ruins of the King's Clan, this girl, who had once memorized the law in the dungeon, used the "Land Distribution Ordinance" to quell seven armed conflicts.

But another image is forever etched in Uther's memory: on his sixth birthday, Liliana toured Mecario, and the Queen herself pinned a broom flower to his chest. 'Under the law, all beings are like stars.' This phrase filled the noble boy's study with commentaries on the Codex. When calamity tore the city apart, his act of ordering his servants to open the granaries unexpectedly made Uther's family 'saints' in the eyes of the refugees.

The first encounter between the two rulers was dramatic—Yousser's relief team discovered that Mab was using the Emergency Management Act to organize refugees to build shelters. The title page of the code that peeked out from under her tattered clothes happened to contain annotations by Liliana, whom Yousser cherished most.

'It seems we've both found a spark in the ruins.' Uther handed over the mud-splattered Declaration of Rights, which Maib discreetly smoothed out as he returned it. At that moment, they were unaware that this alliance, which began in the Age of Calamity, would ultimately give birth to a revolution that would overthrow Britain. Meanwhile, on the other side of time, Mash gazed at Uther's portrait in historical records and suddenly realized that his sword-wielding posture was strikingly similar to that of a certain king from pan-human history.

The Kingdom of the Kings, Year 4 of the Void Era

Morning light streamed through the stained-glass windows, scattering the dust from the council chamber. Vivian's fingertips traced the red-marked clan boundaries on the sand table, Totorut's warning still ringing in her ears. Uther pushed a warm bottle of mead toward her, his gilded shoulder armor a stark contrast to her tattered cloak.

'Trust takes time to cultivate.' Yuther's sword lightly touched the Wind Clan emblem, 'but on the day of your coronation, the chieftains of all six clans will witness your victory over the calamity.'

Vivian gazed at the slowly rotating model of the Holy Lance in the sand table, and the image of Liliana's shattered profile flashed through her memory. When she took her leave, Maib specially sent a servant to deliver a cloak inlaid with star diamonds—the overly thoughtful care caused her to tie a knot when she tried to fasten it.

'Doesn't it look like a ribbon for a sacrifice?' Totorut sneered in the shadows of the corridor.

Meanwhile, a hidden door in a corner of the market was swallowing a figure. A man in a suit, weaving through the crowd, kept adjusting his gold-rimmed glasses; the pupils behind the lenses shrank to reptilian vertical slits. As he stepped into the secret chamber, the runes on the lapis lazuli walls lit up one by one, and the entire space suddenly transformed into a gigantic cocoon.

'The time for shedding skin has come...' In a hoarse whisper, his hair turned silver-white as if washed by moonlight, and his beard fell away in a flurry like a snake shedding its skin. The bones of his face made a crisp sound like jade colliding beneath his skin, and his cheekbones rose, creating an eerie curve like butterfly wings. His custom-made suit melted into liquid in the surging black mist, gradually solidifying into a blue and white robe studded with ice crystals.

The most astonishing change occurred on his spine—two butterfly wings burst forth from his clothes, their veins flowing with starlight-like sap. When he donned the crown woven of thorns and lilies, the reflection in the water mirror revealed a face so beautiful it could entice moths to a flame. Only the vertical lines lingering deep within his pupils testified that this body had once belonged to a monster who had amassed hatred throughout the Eternal Age.

'Maibu...' The newborn being stroked the sleeping patriarch in the crystal coffin, frost forming at his fingertips spreading across the other's brow. 'You will be the perfect gunpowder to ignite the fairies of Paradise.'

The secret chamber suddenly trembled, and the walls revealed a real-time scene from the outside world—Vivian was tucking a broom flower into Maibu's hair, a gesture that sent a shiver of pleasure through the onlooker. He flicked his fingers, scattering light dust, and a 3D projection of the coronation ceremony spun in the air, with the mark of a magic bomb quietly appearing beneath a certain seat.

'When hope is stained with blood...' The scales falling from the butterfly wings sketched a vision of Vivian's collapse in the void. 'Let's see if the Child of Prophecy will repeat Liliana's fate?'

Mash, who was in her room, suddenly awoke with a start. The Galahad emblem on the shield was burning. She opened the window and saw Mab and Uther walking side by side, their backs to each other. The moonlight cast their shadows on the city wall, and the overlapping shadows looked remarkably like a holy lance that had pierced through Britain.

Kindness is like honey laced with poison; while it heals wounds, it also feeds deadly maggots. As Vivian accepted the crown amidst cheers, the noose of fate had already quietly tightened around her neck—

Beneath the stained-glass dome of the clan assembly, a magical scroll unfurled by Maibu projected an image of Vivian battling the Mos Legion. As the caustic slime corroded half her cheek, suppressed gasps rose from the audience. The Wind Clan Chief broke his scepter and rose: 'We've driven our savior to exile!'

"Please accept my belated apology." The Mirror Clan Chief presented the clan's sacred relic, only to have it deflected by Totorut's sword sheath. Only Vivian noticed the brief exchange of glances between Maibu and Uther—a glimmer of triumphant gleam within them.

The clamor of the coronation ceremony drowned out all doubts. Amidst the rain of petals falling in the square, Maibu's coronation gown was adorned with six thousand freshwater pearls, each reflecting Vivian's dazed smile. As the organ played the "Hymn of Eternity," Mashu in the VIP section suddenly pressed her hand to her pounding heart—a memory from pan-human history was searing her nerves.

"With this crown, witness the dawn of a new era!" Mabu opened his arms to welcome the team of priests holding the crown. The scent of bitter almonds wafted from the sleeves of the priest's robe at the head of the group, and the moment their hands met, Mabu felt a stinging pain in his fingertips, like being stung by a bee.

Time froze into amber at that moment.

The child, who was munching on an apple, froze as the first drop of blood fell onto the white marble steps. At the cuff of Maibu's magnificent gown, a silver needle, as fine as a cow's hair, gleamed eerily. As she staggered backward, she snapped her pearl necklace, the smooth beads and the splattering blood creating a deathly waltz.

"The cabinet...it's in the cabinet..." The guard's hoarse shout pierced the music. Inside the pried-open cabinet of ritual implements, the bodies of the real priests were piled up like broken dolls, each frozen face etched with horror.

The fake priest tore off his disguise, and the butterfly wing patterns emerging from beneath his skin caused Vivian to let out a mournful cry. Maib plummeted from the platform like a bird with broken wings, his snow-white gown blooming into enormous funeral flowers in the wind. Uther caught a body that was terrifyingly light; the queen's unworn crown rolled into a pool of blood, its inlaid gems fading piece by piece to gray.

'Era change requires sacrifices.' The assassin's whisper before vanishing like a swarm of butterflies froze the cheers in the square. Vivian pressed futilely against the chapped wound on Maibu's neck, warm blood seeping through her fingers—just like the hope she had just grasped.

"Seal off all exits!" The captain of the guard roared simultaneously with the whistling of spears cutting through the air, pinning the fake priest's team to the spot in the steel jungle. As the medic rushed toward Maib, who lay in a pool of blood, the captain of the guard grabbed the assassin's robe—white foam mixed with the bitter smell of cyanide was seeping from the corpse's mouth.

'Self-destruction poison sac...' Before the captain could finish speaking, the metal sphere that rolled out of the priest's sleeve began to buzz. Mash's shield was still several meters away when the Black Knight's pupils suddenly contracted.

Everyone, take cover!

With the fastest speed he had ever seen, the battle-hardened knight's steel arms shielded the three women in his embrace like a fortress. The shockwave from the explosion overturned the gilded chair, and his arched back absorbed all the damage. Flying splinters, like the Sword of Damocles, tore his armor to shreds.

When Mashu regained consciousness from the ringing in her ears, the Black Knight's shattered shoulder armor was stuck beside her hand. This man, who had once charged into the Morse Formation single-handedly, now lay sprawled among the rubble like a broken doll. Flames danced on his charred back, but the arms that had embraced the three of them remained as firm as iron clamps.

"Hold on!" Mashu extinguished the flames in his hair with her bare hands, but instead touched the exposed skull. Totolute tore open his tuxedo to stop the bleeding, but found no intact flesh to press on.

In the chaos, Vivian saw Yuther's figure flash past the edge of the thick smoke. He bent down and took something from Maib's stiff fingers, his departing steps crushing the rolling crown.

Under the kerosene lamp in the makeshift hospital, as the doctor cut open the Black Knight's frozen clothes, shattered ribs pierced his lung. 'Severe nerve damage... even if he wakes up, he may be paralyzed for life.' The diagnosis crumpled into a piece of paper in Vivian's hands.

The parchment the nurse handed him still held the warmth of Yuther's body; the hastily written words seemed to be an attempt to evade capture: [The assassination is a meticulously planned coup. Run, Vivian—by the time you read this, the hounds will have already caught your scent.]

The sound of soldiers questioning passersby came from outside the window, and Vivian suddenly pulled down the curtains of the hospital room. The moonlight illuminated the wedding ring on the Black Knight's ring finger—he had been secretly polishing it this morning, saying that he would return to his hometown to marry the girl who had been waiting for him for many years after peace was restored.

The sound of parchment falling to the ground startled the unconscious Black Knight, whose charred lips moved as if he wanted to say something. Vivian's staff knocked over medical equipment, and the aftershocks of her magic caused all the glassware in the ward to shatter.

'Don't go!' Totorut dug his nails into a crack in the barrier. 'It's a trap!'

But Vivian, who always trembled under Liliana's wings, was dead. At this moment, charging into the rain was the Avenger, his pupils burning with eerie blue flames—his beret rolled into a pool of blood, and dragon horns sprouting from his hair pierced through his disguise.

The icy rain soaked through Vivian's boots, but it was nothing compared to the chill spreading through her heart. She chased after Yuther's increasingly faint breath, running desperately through the mud, only one thought echoing wildly in her mind: Nothing, nothing at all!

When she finally broke through the layers of rain and entered the desolate cemetery, the sight before her made her blood freeze instantly.

Yuther lay in a cold pool of blood, his body long since devoid of warmth. His eyes, which had once shone with wisdom and gentleness, now stared blankly at the gray sky. Rain relentlessly lashed his pale face, mixing with the congealed dark red blood, spreading a shocking stain on the muddy ground.

Vivian was struck as if by lightning, frozen in place, unable to move. The world around her lost all sound and color, leaving only the patter of rain and the gradually cooling body before her. She was too late, ultimately too late.

"Oh?" A flippant and malicious voice broke the deathly silence. "Could you be the guard he was talking about before he died?"

Vivian slowly, very slowly, turned her head. Oberon was sitting leisurely on a crooked cross tombstone, gently swinging his legs, their butterfly wings shimmering ominously in the rain. His face wore undisguised mockery.

“I’m sorry,” he drawled, each word like a poisoned dagger, “he’s already been sent to see that ridiculous queen. Honestly, what kind of trash dares to be crowned? You lot reek of disgust from head to toe… cough—”

His sarcastic remarks came to an abrupt halt.

Because Vivian moved.

Without any warning, without even a sound, Vivian, consumed by immense grief and rage, appeared before him in an instant, like a ghost. The seemingly simple wooden staff in her hand, accompanied by a piercing shriek that tore through the air, slammed solidly into Oberon's forehead!

"boom--!"

A dull, massive impact rang out. Oberon didn't even have time to react before he was sent flying like a kite with a broken string. The malicious smile on his face was instantly replaced by shock and pain, and blood spurted from his forehead, mingling with the cold rain.

However, this is just the beginning.

Vivian's reason had been completely consumed by hatred. A ghostly blue flame burned in her eyes—the manifestation of a dragon's rage. Before Oberon's body even hit the ground, she vanished again, reappearing a split second behind his path of flight. She didn't even use complex incantations; a massive, battering ram-sized hammer, constructed purely from raging magic, instantly materialized in her hands!

"BOOM—!!"

The giant hammer slammed down with tremendous force towards Oberon's exquisite yet malevolent face! The ground couldn't withstand this terrifying power; it instantly cracked and collapsed, leaving a huge crater amidst splattering dust and mud. Blood and fragments of shattered butterfly wings mixed with the dirt, flying wildly.

Vivian didn't pause for a moment; her magic surged, preparing to launch an even more lethal attack. But the instant she raised her hand, several chains made of purplish-black, seemingly living calamity material shot out from the void like venomous snakes, tightly binding the middle of her staff and forcibly interrupting her spellcasting.

Have you had enough fun?

Oberon's voice turned somber and distorted. He staggered as he crawled out of the pit, the wound on his forehead deep enough to expose bone, blood smearing most of his face, making his once handsome features appear abnormally ferocious. He stared fiercely at Vivian, a genuine killing intent igniting in his eyes for the first time.

"Cough..." Vivian tried to break free of the chains, but the calamity substance was highly corrosive, not only binding the staff tightly but also constantly eroding her magic.

Oberon, who had just steadied himself, suddenly thrust his right hand forward. The surrounding purplish-black calamity energy rapidly condensed and shaped in his palm, transforming into a sharp spear gleaming with an ominous light. With a flick of his arm, the spear shot out like lightning, its target Vivian's right arm!

The sound of a sharp blade piercing flesh remained chillingly clear amidst the increasingly heavy rain. Vivian groaned in excruciating pain, and gushing blood instantly stained half her body. Almost instinctively, she released the magical hammer she had conjured, and desperately grabbed the shaft of the spear piercing her right arm with her left hand, trying to pull it out. The sharp blade sliced ​​through her palm, blood flowing continuously from between her fingers, but she seemed oblivious to the pain, her eyes filled only with a mad, obsessive determination.

As she struggled with the spear piercing her arm, Oberon had already regained his footing. He wiped the blood from his face, and a complex and sinister purplish-black magic circle instantly appeared beneath his feet. The magic circle shone brightly, and a visible, ring-shaped shockwave, infused with destructive energy, erupted violently from his center outwards!

"boom--!"

Vivian had no chance to dodge; she was struck head-on by the powerful shockwave and sent flying like a stone hurled from a catapult. The immense force of the impact sent her slender body crashing heavily into a crumbling stone wall at the edge of the cemetery.

"Cough!" Her internal organs were violently shaken, and she suddenly spat out a mouthful of blood. The stone wall surface where she had struck it was left with spiderweb-like cracks.

“Cough… What an astonishing fellow,” Oberon gasped, his voice hoarse from his injuries. “To be able to unleash such power at the very end… but it was all in vain. As a moth drawn to the flame, Vivian, your exit was passable.” He grinned, a bloodstained, cruel smile spreading across his face. “So this is what you're like when you lose your mind? Hmph, you'd better not spoil my fun!”

"Aaaaaaahh ...

His response was Vivian's heart-wrenching roar. At this moment, the physical pain had long been overwhelmed by endless grief and anger. She struggled to her feet, not even looking at the shocking wounds on her body, and grabbed the staff that had fallen to the side.

She poured all her magic into it without reservation!

"Crack...knock..."

Under the impact of her powerful magic, the outer shell of the wooden staff began to crack inch by inch, with an increasingly dazzling blue-black light shining through the cracks. Finally, after a blinding flash of light, the outer shell completely peeled away, revealing the staff's true form—a slender and elegant black metal staff, its entire body shimmering with an eerie light and covered with mysterious runes. The patterns carved on the hilt were strikingly similar to the hilt of the legendary Excalibur from pan-human history! The magic of the former "Spear of the Chosen" surged within it, radiating a suffocatingly powerful pressure.

"Don't even think about escaping!" Vivian's voice was heavy with the strain of her magic overload.

She gripped the real holy staff tightly with both hands and plunged it into the ground beneath her feet!

Om-!

The magic of heaven and earth resonated with it. The next second, an enormous phantom of a cross-shaped holy staff made of pure light energy tore through the heavy rain clouds. Like a divine judgment, it descended from the sky with a magnificent divine power that could purify everything, and smashed straight down on Oberon's head!

Oberon's pupils contracted sharply; he could feel the destructive power contained in this attack. He dared not be careless, and with a sudden upward thrust of his hands, his butterfly wings flapped wildly, unleashing a dense torrent of purplish-black magic, forcefully stopping the falling tip of the cross-shaped staff!