Fairy Round Table Realm, Poem of Eternal Mist

Initially, the Fairy Kingdom did not follow the current Queen's Calendar. In the ancient times when the six clan ancestors failed to forge the Holy Sword, the world was in the original 'Fairy Calendar'—an era of war and terror. Until the arrival of the first Child of Paradise, Liliana, she completed her pilgrimage amidst countless persecutions, rebellions, and insults, but failed to fully fulfill her mission. Instead, she became the first ruler of the Fairy Kingdom, ruling this land for a thousand years.

The deviation of the first Child of Paradise from its proper course alerted 'someone'. Thus, the second Child of Paradise, Vivian, was born, burdened with the mission of bringing history back on track. However, Liliana ignored her advice, instead imprisoning Vivian in a comfortable cage, causing this girl who should have changed the world to become timid and fragile. It wasn't until the invasion of 'external forces' led to the collapse of Liliana's regime that the long-pampered Vivian realized the gravity of the situation, but it was too late.

With the fall of the Eternal Era, the Fairy Kingdom entered a dark age of nothingness. In these ruins, Vivian finally shed her naivety and matured into a resilient warrior. But fate dealt her another heavy blow: at her coronation ceremony, Queen Mab and King Uther, who had painstakingly nurtured her, were assassinated by the resistance. When Vivian finally found the mastermind behind it all, she was consumed by the rage of revenge and severely wounded in the fierce battle. To protect Mash from being implicated, in despair, she froze the girl in ice and stepped alone into the eternal darkness.

After hearing this narration, the many mysteries finally began to connect: the portrait in Autumn Forest was not a coincidence, but rather someone was hinting at the truth hidden behind the Fairy Kingdom; Mashu's self-proclaimed title of 'Fairy Knight Galahad' was proof that she had once been a member of Vivian's Knights, although her memories of that time had not yet fully returned. All the clues gradually pieced together a complete picture.

"Wait," Ritsuka suddenly interrupted, "Could it be that Vivian...?"

A startling connection flashed through her mind. Mashu's description of Vivian gradually overlapped with the image of that queen—yes, it was Morgan. The profound sorrow she felt each time she entered Morgan's chambers mirrored Vivian's fate. Clearly, this Morgan was not the witch who overthrew Britain in pan-human history, but a ruler who had devoted herself to this land. Recalling Morgan's repeated reminders of the precautions she and Artoria had taken, her true intentions became clear.

"I understand! Morgan is Vivian!" Ritsuka exclaimed excitedly. "We misunderstood her from the very beginning. Think about it, Leonardo da Vinci, if Morgan were as hostile as Zeus or Arjuna, those Lostbelt kings, she could have easily wiped us out herself upon our landing. Why did she only send the fairy knight Bedivere to guard the area?"

"That's right!" Leonardo da Vinci's eyes gleamed with excitement. "Go on, you seem to be close to uncovering the true nature of this Lostbelt!"

"When we hear the legend of the six progenitor fairies forging the sword, we should realize that the true Britain must possess a sacred sword. History without a sacred sword is distorted into a Lostbelt. And Paradise keeps sending Paradise fairies to correct this error, yet they are repeatedly thwarted." Ritsuka's voice grew increasingly firm, "Everything Morgan has done is to hasten the end of the British Lostbelt—this is the true mission of the Children of Paradise throughout history!"

Ritsuka's insightful analysis had truly touched upon Britain's deepest secrets. Everyone present showed admiration, casting approving glances at her. However, Oberon remained silent throughout, and in the unnoticed shadows, a subtle, almost imperceptible change flickered across his expression.

At this moment, only the Fang Clan remains for the pilgrimage. When the bells of all the clans toll, Artoria's mission will be accomplished. After hearing Ritsuka's deduction, Artoria no longer concealed anything—the insight displayed by this foreign girl truly exceeded everyone's expectations.

"The only culprit behind Britain's turmoil is Vortigern," Ritsuka said firmly. "We only need to stop him from taking advantage of the situation to end this sooner."

"Before that," Leonardo suggested, "let's go check at the base of the Great Tree. For Lostbelts without the Tree of Imagination, we must see it for ourselves before making a conclusion. Is there still time?"

"What do you think, Artoria?" Senji Muramasa asked, turning to her. "I will certainly keep you company to the end."

"Let's go!" A determined gleam shone in Artoria's eyes. "This is the truth Her Majesty and I have been searching for for years. After we finish our investigation, we'll return to the Rebel Fortress and seriously consider how to deal with that battle maniac, Woodworth."

Meanwhile, amidst the heated discussion, Kalia quietly stepped aside. She took out her communication crystal and gave Morgan a full report on the current situation. Unexpectedly, the Queen was not surprised; instead, she appeared calm and composed.

"This is exactly the result I expected." Morgan's voice came through the crystal. "Kalia, you don't need to participate in Woodworth's operation anymore. Return to the capital immediately. You and Sylph have other tasks."

'But Your Majesty... is this really appropriate?'

“I’ve said it many times,” Morgan’s tone was unequivocal, “don’t let personal feelings cloud your judgment in crucial moments. Bagst and Melusine are exceptions—I absolutely will not allow you to have the same problem as Sylph. Once they’ve left the roots of this great tree, you must set off immediately.”

"Yes, sir."

Ingenious methods of forced confession - Fairy Round Table Realm, Poem of Eternal Mist

The dimly lit chamber was illuminated only by the flickering magical torches on the walls. The air was thick with the smells of rust and mildew, and the instruments of torture gleamed coldly in the shadows.

Morrian was tightly bound to the wooden chair with rough ropes, the ropes digging deep into her expensive dress. She tried to struggle, but each movement only tightened the ropes. When Morgan's figure appeared in the flickering firelight, Morrian's breathing became noticeably rapid, her chest heaving violently.

'Morgan...' she tried to remain calm, but her voice trembled uncontrollably. 'Do you know what you're doing? The Fairy Kingdom is no longer a place where you can do whatever you want! If you dare lay a finger on me...'

Morgan approached slowly, the sound of her boots striking the stone floor particularly clear in the enclosed space. She reached out and gently stroked the torture instruments displayed on the wooden table, her fingertips finally resting on a rusty pair of pliers.

'Negotiations?' Morgan's voice was low and calm, as if discussing the weather. 'It seems you need to understand your situation first.' She picked up the pliers, the metal parts making a teeth-grinding scraping sound. 'Kelby.'

Kelby, standing in the shadows, stepped forward in response, her gaze fixed on Morian, a cold smile playing on her lips.

"Pick one that's easy for you." Morgan handed the pliers to Kelby. "Remember, spare her life. Until... she tells you everything she knows."

Kelby took the instruments of torture, her fingers lightly tracing the jaws: 'Rest assured, Your Majesty. I will properly 'treat' this old friend.' She turned to Morrian, her eyes flashing with long-suppressed glint, 'How did you and Aurora treat me? Now it's your turn.'

Morrigan's gaze swept over the instruments of torture on the table in horror: the bucket full of cold water was still dripping from the rim, the pipe wrench was stained with dark red grime, and dangerous sparks occasionally flew from the surface of the magic stone engraved with lightning runes. When her eyes met Kelby's, the last shred of her feigned composure crumbled completely, and her lips trembled uncontrollably.

Kelby raised the pliers, the cold glint of metal flashing before Morrigan's eyes. 'Let's start with the simplest one, shall we?'

'Looks like you need to wake up.' Kelby sneered, picked up the bucket on the table, and threw the stained rag inside at Morrian's face. The pungent smell of mildew instantly filled her nostrils, and before she could react, a stream of icy water poured over her head.

'Waaah—!'

Mollyanne's body convulsed violently, her mouth and nose, covered by a rag, making it impossible for her to breathe properly. Each time she tried to inhale, the soaked cloth drew cold water into her trachea, triggering excruciating coughs. Her legs kicked helplessly, her bound hands twisted and struggled behind her back, her nails digging deep into her palms. The water continued to pour down, each brief pause causing her to instinctively gasp for air, only to inhale more cold water, plunging her into a new cycle of suffocation.

Morgan stood silently watching the scene, the metal case of her pocket watch gleaming coldly in the firelight. Her expression was breathtakingly calm, as if she were observing a performance that had nothing to do with her. When the minute hand crossed the predetermined mark, she gently closed the watch and clapped her hands in acknowledgment.

'Time's up! Help her up!'

Kelby put down the bucket and roughly grabbed Morrian by the collar, lifting her up. Morrian was soaking wet, her long hair plastered messily to her pale cheeks, and her body trembled from an incessant cough. Water dripped from her chin, forming a small puddle at her feet.

Morgan stepped forward slowly, crouching down to be at eye level with Morrigan. She gently brushed away the damp hair clinging to Morrigan's forehead, her movements as tender as if she were handling a fragile treasure.

"Alright, tell me," Morgan's voice was as soft as a whisper, "Did you work with Belial Gat? Was that Pleasure Gang amusement park thing your doing?"

Mollyanne was breathing heavily, her teeth chattering. 'Cough...cough...I...didn't...' Her voice was weak and broken, her eyes darting away, avoiding Morgan's gaze. 'I just...'

"You don't want to say, huh?" Morgan sighed softly, stood up, and turned his back to her. "Come on! Continue serving!"

"No—!" Morrian's scream was still stuck in her throat when Kelby had already raised the pipe wrench. The sound of metal slicing through the air was brief and sharp, followed by a tooth-grinding cracking sound.

'Snap!'

A sharp pain instantly engulfed Morrigan's entire body, and she let out a scream that sounded inhuman. Her calves were twisted at an abnormal angle, and every breath brought excruciating pain. She desperately wished she could faint, but the stimulant Morgan had injected into her beforehand was cruelly taking effect, keeping her unusually conscious, amplifying every bit of pain to its extreme.

Morgan crouched down again, his face still bearing that chillingly gentle expression.

"How was it?" Her fingertips lightly brushed against Morrigan's injured calf, causing the other to shudder. "Next time, that thing won't just hit your leg. It'll aim right here—" Her fingers lightly touched Morrigan's temple. "Tell me, okay? That way you'll suffer less."

Morrigan's pupils contracted in fear, tears mingling with the water on her face. She could feel Kelby standing behind her, the heavy pipe wrench in his hand poised to fall at any moment. The instinct for survival finally overcame loyalty, and she nodded with difficulty, her voice choked with barely audible sobs:

'I'll say... I'll tell you everything...'

Under the combined crushing force of body and mind, Morrigan's will finally crumbled completely. Every inch of her skin screamed, every nerve trembled, and the faint glint of cold light in Morgan's icy eyes made her realize that the punishment to come would only be more cruel. The instinct for survival overwhelmed everything, and she began to incoherently reveal the truth:

'Yes…yes…' her voice was hoarse, trembling with barely suppressed sobs, 'I did work with Belial…it was with Aurora…the rest was done at Aurora's behest by Kelby…the purpose was to eliminate…that foreign Master…'

Morgan smiled a near-benevolent smile, her fingertips gently tracing Morrigan's trembling chin. 'That's more like it… Why suffer all this if you'd confessed sooner?' She looked up, as if speaking to an unseen force. 'Isn't that right, Sylph? That place does indeed retain traces of their magic, doesn't it?'

Meanwhile, at the entrance to the abandoned secret base, Sylph held her breath. After passing through a nauseating pool of corpses, she had finally arrived at this hidden stronghold. Although it was dilapidated, familiar magical fluctuations lingered in the air—the marks of Morian and Aurora. However, her gaze was drawn to a peculiar mark: a pink, petal-shaped inscription, gleaming eerily in the dim light—a spell she had never seen before in the Fairy Kingdom.

“Your Majesty, she’s right,” Sylph reported via communication spell, her voice tinged with confusion. “But there’s also a magical trace here I’ve never seen before, like pink petals… When did our fairy kingdom acquire such a spell?”

"That's not something we need to delve into for now." Morgan's voice came through the magic, carrying an undeniable authority. "Confirming the data on their secret base is enough. And Sylph, the owner of that petal... is not an opponent you can handle."

"Understood," Sylph replied respectfully. "Your Majesty, I am ready at your service."

Having obtained the crucial intelligence, Morgan turned his attention back to the trembling Morrian, his face still bearing that chillingly 'kind' smile. Morrian was now in a daze, her unfocused eyes filled only with pure fear—she had never imagined that Her Majesty the Queen could harbor such a terrifying side.

"Then tell me—" Morgan's voice was as soft as a viper's hiss, "Why did that Mephistopheles kid form a third force? You're a core member, don't think I don't know. Come on, tell me—"

'I...I...I...' Morian's teeth chattered, broken syllables stuck in her throat.

“Very good.” Morgan nodded slightly, then winked at Kelby. “Since she’s stammering, pull out two of her teeth.”

"No! No! I'll tell you! I'll tell you everything—" Morrigan's wailing abruptly stopped, turning into a piercing scream, "Aaaaaah! It hurts! It hurts so much!"

Under relentless coercion and torture, Morrigan's mental defenses completely crumbled. Sobbing, she intermittently revealed a truth that shocked even Morgan.

It turns out that the Mephistopheles family had long plotted to completely destroy the fairy kingdom they considered utterly corrupt. However, under Morgan's iron-fisted rule for over two thousand years, even with occasional rebellions from various clans, their foundation remained unshaken. To achieve this near-impossible goal, they devised an extremely sinister plan: to summon 'all the evil of this world'—a power stemming from the fairies' deep-seated resistance to pilgrimage and their rejection of the Children of Paradise, its essence being the complete erasure of the Child of Prophecy.

The key to implementing this plan, the "catalyst," is hidden right beside Morgan—two fantastical beings with special powers: Melusin, the last remaining remnant of Albion, containing the power of an ancient dragon; and Sylph, a thousand-year-old cicada spirit who controls the weather, possessing the ability to influence the laws of nature. Combining their powers will create a terrifying being capable of fighting against or even destroying the Children of Paradise.

The Mephistopheles family has been lying low for many years, waiting for the perfect opportunity. When the time is right, Pandora's box of the 'ultimate evil' will be opened, and calamity, resentment, hatred, and anger will merge into one, forming an ultimate monster that even the Queen of the Fairy Kingdom cannot contend with, plunging the entire Britain into an abyss of no return.

'Damn it!' Morgan's voice trembled slightly with rage. 'That brat tricked us! So from the very beginning, Kelby—no, Machia—was your pawn? The slaughter of her people, the exploitation of her hatred, all to nurture that monster? Now you've succeeded, very well! Excellent!'

She took a deep breath, suppressing her surging anger: 'We've asked everything we needed to ask. Machia, throw her into the Thames!'

"Yes, maquia!" Maquia carried out the order without hesitation.

[At this point, the truth behind Maquia's previous atrocities finally comes to light. She was completely forced into becoming a tool of this conspiracy. As the magical markings discovered by Sylph show, Merlin cast an illusion on her, distorting her perception and preventing her from realizing the wrongness of her actions. Meanwhile, with her son held hostage, Maquia, like a puppet on a string, had no other choice.]

What alarmed Morgan even more was that the other side had access to detailed data on her knights regarding the plan to "commit all the evils of the world." This clearly meant that, besides Machia, there was another traitor lurking within the palace. Who was this traitor? Morgan had no idea for the time being, but she clearly sensed that a great catastrophe was about to befall Britain, and the chances of success were extremely slim—a failure rate of ninety-eight percent. That remaining two percent hope would become everyone's only lifeline.

-

Three hours later, a battered and bruised Mollyan struggled to climb ashore from the icy waters of the Thames. She was panting heavily, soaked to the bone, and her wounds stung from the water. But even more painful than the physical pain was the overwhelming humiliation and anger that made her tremble uncontrollably.

However, Nocnarria and Aurora were completely unaware that she had already revealed all the secrets. In an inconspicuous shadow not far away, Merlin silently observed everything, a faint smile playing on her lips. In her eyes, this Winged Clan chief, now exposed and useless, was nothing more than a disposable pawn.

'Hehehehe…' Merlin chuckled softly, as if chanting a cruel hymn, 'What a poor little bird, like a bird with broken wings… Ah… I feel so sad watching this, sister~'

-

Inside the mansion of the Fang Clan chief, Woodworth was lounging in his large chair, casually reviewing documents. The commotion outside seemed completely irrelevant to him; he was utterly unaware that the pilgrimage bells of the various clans of the Fairy Kingdom had already begun to tolling.

Just as he was focused on the case file in his hands, a rapid knocking interrupted his thoughts. He answered impatiently and gruffly, his eyes still fixed on the text.

'What is it? Hurry up and say it, don't waste my time!'

A soldier from the Fang Clan rushed in, kneeling on one knee: "Chief, something terrible has happened! All the clans in the Fairy Kingdom have now rung the pilgrimage bells! The Child of Prophecy is about to arrive in our territory!"

"What?!" Woodworth jumped to his feet, kicking over the heavy solid wood table and chairs in a fit of rage. His hair stood on end, and his wolfish eyes flashed with a terrifying glint of ferocity. "A bunch of trash!"

He couldn't accept the fact that the other clans were so easily defeated, so readily submitting to an unknown little girl. For him, who revered the supremacy of force, this was an immense humiliation.

"Assemble all forces immediately!" Woodworth grabbed his coat from the back of his chair, casually draped it over his shoulders, and commanded, "All troops, attack! Target: Percival territory! At all costs, I want to see their heads! Since destruction is inevitable, let's fight to the death!"

"Yes, sir!" The soldier accepted the order and left.

Woodworth walked to the window and slammed his rough hand down on the windowsill. With a sickening cracking sound, the stone ornament crumbled into dust in his palm.

"Just you wait and see, you foreign invaders, and those laughable children of paradise..." He gazed into the distance, his eyes burning with bloodthirsty battle lust. "None of you will leave here alive!"

Noon Crisis - Fairy Round Table Realm, Poem of Eternal Mist

Following the path leading to the base of the great tree, the group arrived once again beneath its massive, intertwined roots. No matter how many times they witnessed it, the withered Imaginary Tree still emanated a powerful, otherworldly magic. However, while this power was still considerable, it was far from sufficient to support the germination of a new Imaginary Tree.

Da Vinci examined the broken section closely, her brow furrowed. "This didn't wither naturally; it was felled by human hands." She sensed the lingering, immense magical energy in the air and murmured, "Such a scale of magic… there's probably only one explanation: it was used to repair this continent itself."

She turned to the crowd and continued her analysis: 'Recall the Age of Nothingness, Britain was almost completely destroyed by the Calamity. To rebuild from such ruins using conventional methods would be nothing short of a pipe dream. But if it came at the cost of the entire Imaginary Tree's magic… then it makes sense. Morgan felled the Imaginary Tree, using its core magic as the foundation to reshape the land of Britain.'

Ritsuka suddenly remembered: 'Back in Olympus, Mr. Peperoncino did mention that the Imaginary Tree couldn't be observed in Britain or South America.'

"The mystery is solved," Leonardo da Vinci continued. "The Imaginary Tree of Britain ceased to exist long before we arrived. Even more unusual is that this Lostbelt didn't disappear with the loss of the Imaginary Tree; on the contrary… its Lostbelt depth is evolving towards EX level."

Just as everyone was immersed in this astonishing discovery, Percival's urgent voice suddenly burst out from the communication crystal:

'Oh no! You absolutely mustn't go directly to Woodworth's territory... Ugh! They... they've come knocking on our door themselves!'

'What?!'

The deafening roar of artillery fire and the clanging of metal echoed from the other end of the crystal, interspersed with shouts and screams. The rebel fortress was clearly under heavy attack. Percival's words were cut short, leaving only a piercing busy tone. Every second of delay could mean the fall of a vital rear base, depriving them of their only support.

"There's no time to travel slowly!" Artoria stepped forward resolutely. "I'll use teleportation to take everyone back—it will consume a lot of mana, but it's the fastest way!"

Without hesitation, she began chanting the incantation, the ancient language vibrating in the air. Radiant runes rapidly spread from beneath her feet, weaving into a dazzling golden magic circle. The group immediately stepped into the circle, and the light and shadow began to distort.