Fairy Round Table Realm, Poem of Eternal Mist

This horn is proof of the law. It is the correction of all improper geothermal barriers. Kneel down! Horn that preys on the sun!

Completely regressed to primal state, her rationality extinguished, Bagst let out a roar that shook the heavens and earth! She gripped the Fairy Sword Caventin, which had also grown to enormous size and transformed into a true "weapon of calamity," and raised it high before slamming it down fiercely into the boundless raging tide of calamity before her!

"Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!"

The earth trembled violently! Centered on the point where the giant sword struck, towering black and red flames, like an awakened volcano or a predatory jaw emerging from a rift in hell, spread wildly and swept in all directions with terrifying power to incinerate everything! Wherever the flames passed, no matter how small or large the Mos were, they didn't even have time to scream before they were instantly vaporized and annihilated by the extreme heat and destructive energy! The entire street, and even the surrounding area, was transformed into a raging inferno in an instant!

The flames raged for a full half minute before gradually subsiding. The air was filled with the acrid smell of burning and sulfur, and the ground was charred and glassy. Apart from wisps of smoke, there were no other traces of the disaster.

The enormous Bagst's body swayed, then began to shrink rapidly, returning to its original size. When she returned to normal, she staggered a few steps, barely managing to steady herself by leaning against a half-melted wall. The wound on her forehead had stopped bleeding, but her face was ashen, and her breath was weak. She raised the back of her hand to wipe the blood and sweat-stained smear from her forehead, and let out a long, weary breath.

Machia finally couldn't hold on any longer, losing the last bit of strength to keep the water flowing. She collapsed to the ground, leaning against the broken wall, breathing heavily.

“It seems… it’s been cleared out for now.” Maquia gazed at the charred street before her, her voice weak. “As long as… that ‘Source’ doesn’t show itself…”

"Hmm..." Bagst barely managed a response, trying to calm the dizziness caused by overexertion.

Just then, Machia's gaze was drawn to something falling from the sky—extremely fine, black, fluffy matter, like ashes from a fire, slowly drifting down from high above.

Her pupils suddenly contracted! She recognized this thing! It was a sign that only appeared when calamity reached a certain critical point, or when an extremely terrifying being was about to fully awaken—the "Fleeting Catastrophe"!

A chill ran through Machia's body instantly. She turned sharply to look at Bagst, her voice urgent and stern:

"Bagust! There's no time! Listen to me, leave the capital immediately! Go back to Manchester!"

“What?” Bagst was taken aback.

"Look at the sky! Look at this 'ash'!" Machia pointed at the falling black fluff. "The capital is already like this, do you think your Manchester will be safe now?! Even if you're going to die... you should die on the land you swore to protect! Not wasting your time here!"

Like a thunderbolt cleaving through the fog! Bagst looked up abruptly, staring at the ominous black wisps, and recalling Machia's words, the long-suppressed anxiety about Manchester erupted instantly! Manchester… her home, the only remaining peaceful corner she wanted to protect…

"Damn it!" she cursed under her breath, no longer caring about her weakness and exhaustion. She straightened up abruptly and sheathed the Cavendish sword at her waist (the blade had been restored to its original state, but its luster was dull).

Without any further farewells or hesitation, Bagst began to run at full speed towards Manchester! Every step was filled with determination and panic. At this moment, only one frantic thought remained in her mind: Manchester! It must not go wrong! She had to make it!

Her figure quickly disappeared around the corner amidst the billowing smoke and ruins.

Only when Bagst was completely out of sight did Machia, who had been holding on, finally relax. Leaning against the wall, she slowly slid down to the ground, and the suppressed groans of pain finally escaped from between her teeth. She looked down at her abdomen—there, the deepest wound was oozing blood mixed with purplish-black threads, and ominous markings were beginning to appear on the surrounding skin.

For fairies, the infection of calamity is an almost irreversible incurable disease. It erodes the soul and distorts existence.

"Cough...cough cough cough..." She coughed up more black blood, and her consciousness began to blur. Even though she had once been the most ruthless executioner in the Fairy Kingdom, at this moment, her remaining will would not allow her to degenerate into one of those ugly monsters on this land, beside the last legacy left by the queen she once served.

"Baghster...you must...go back alive..."

She murmured to herself, unsure whether she was speaking to her long-gone companions or to herself.

Leaning against the wall, she mustered her last bit of strength. Then, with her blood-stained hands, supporting her mangled body, she stood up with extreme slowness and difficulty.

Every step she took aggravated her wounds, causing excruciating, tearing pain. Dark purple blood flowed down her leg armor, leaving a broken, glaring trail behind her.

Instead of heading towards the relatively safer depths of the royal city, she turned around and limped towards the city gate that had been breached by the calamity and was now deathly silent.

His figure staggered, yet carried a sense of solitary, final perseverance, slowly merging into the increasingly dense shadows near the city gate, ravaged by flames and corrosion.

[Time Anchor: Approximately 3 hours ago, after Bagst left the royal city of Camelot]

Location: Manchester

……no.

From the very beginning, I...

That's a complete misinterpretation; it's what we should really be protecting...

(A noisy, distorted auditory hallucination, filled with malice and greed, burrows into my mind again, like a maggot clinging to my bone—)

"Hahaha, isn't this our great hero Bagst?"

"Tell me about it! What delicious food did you 'eat' today?"

"Don't be so stingy, share some with us!"

"Tsk tsk, I never imagined human flesh...tasted so uniquely~"

"Hehe, crybaby Bagst~"

"That pretentious Bagstaff~"

"Oh! I know! In human stories, this kind of behavior is called 'demon,' right?"

"Yes, yes, yes! Let's hurry to the next place! Let's find more 'interesting' humans to play with!"

"Shut up...shut up!! Get out of here!!!"

No...that's not right!

How could I...

Ah—I was so incredibly stupid!

This island, this fairy kingdom, fundamentally... has no soil for the so-called "justice"!

But... even so...

I also……

We absolutely, absolutely cannot let this go...

We cannot allow these twisted "things" that feed on the suffering of others... to wreak havoc on other worlds!

Chaotic thoughts and sharp self-doubt clashed violently in his mind, and Bagst almost instinctively and with his last bit of obsession rushed back to the border of Manchester.

However, the scene that came into view completely shattered her last bit of hope and support.

home.

That last peaceful place she had tried so hard to protect, even at the cost of being branded a betrayer...

At this moment, it has vanished completely.

The once pristine and tidy streets of my memory were now wantonly smeared with dark red, charred black, and eerie purplish-black stains. Mangled bodies lay sprawled in various contorted postures, congealed blood reflecting an unsettling glow against the strangely beautiful yet unsettling pink sky. The air was thick with the stench of blood, the acrid smell of burning flesh, the dust of collapsing buildings, and a…sweet, decaying odor unique to fairies who had fallen into the form of Moss, all mingling into a nauseating, hellish wind.

A living hell.

Only this word can describe it.

Aurora's inflammatory declaration, like a spark thrown into a parched grassland, ignited the selfishness, jealousy, violence, and destructive desires suppressed for millennia within the elves' blood. The so-called "rebellion" and "freedom" quickly devolved into a pure and ugly frenzy of instinct that swept across the entire realm. Plunder, destruction, mutual tearing, amplifying everyday grievances into reasons for slaughter… the unleashed malice spread like a plague. And every growing resentment, every outburst of rage, provided the sweetest nourishment for "Cornunus," long coveted beneath the abyss. Mos's figure proliferated in the streets and alleys, his low, hoarse roars and manic screams weaving a symphony of apocalypse.

Bagst stood in the very center of this chaos and destruction.

Her golden pupils reflected the leaping flames, the collapsing houses, the figures continuing to fight while trampling the corpses of their own kind, and the purplish-black monsters writhing and taking shape in the shadows.

Puzzled.

A vast, icy confusion, like the deepest sea, overwhelmed all her senses.

why?

Everyone who works together, shares food, and laughs together on holidays...

Why... did it have to become like this?

They kill each other, destroy the home they built with their own hands, and drag each other into the deepest quagmire...

in the end……

for what?

What she longed for was always so simple.

It was just a corner where she could temporarily forget her duties and burdens as a "fairy knight," and immerse herself in trivial daily life and small satisfactions like an ordinary fairy, wasting her time.

Wouldn't it be better to stay in Manchester, like before, and immerse yourself in this false but reassuring "peace"?

But reality, in the most cruel, ferocious, and merciless manner, utterly tore apart her tiny, humble aspirations, along with the entire city of Manchester, into mud and blood.

The flames drew near, the heat distorting the air, the scorching air lifting the ash-covered strands of hair from her forehead. The last trace of shock, pain, and confusion on Bagst's face slowly vanished like the receding tide.

Instead, there is an emptiness that is utterly hollow.

It was as if the soul had been completely ripped out and devoured by something larger and darker, leaving only a delicate but lifeless shell, standing blankly in purgatory.

"already……"

"I don't want to think about it anymore..."

Since it's incomprehensible...

Since nothing of it matters...

"Then..."

"never mind……"

"Why……"

"Feeling...that hungry?"

What is this all-consuming emptiness...?

"What... am I...?"

"…………"

"……never mind."

"all……"

"Devour it."

The leaping flames completely engulfed her vision.

A scorching wave of air enveloped her, licking her armor and skin.

Amidst that interplay of fiery red and deep black, against the backdrop of destructive and frenzied revelry—

Bagst's tall body began to undergo terrifying and violent deformation!

Bones emitted teeth-grinding crackling and stretching sounds, muscles bulged, twisted, and expanded! Long golden hair was covered by swollen black fur, the delicate face elongated and distorted, revealing gleaming white fangs! The armor symbolizing rationality and restraint shattered and fell off the expanding body! All the external characteristics of "Fairy Knight Gawain" were rapidly being replaced by a more primal, more ferocious form, filled with endless hunger and destructive desire!

In the blink of an eye, a gigantic black dog-like monster, over five meters tall, covered in dark, lusterless fur, with chaotic red light burning in its eyes and corrosive saliva dripping from its mouth, suddenly appeared in the middle of the flames-scorching streets of Manchester! It raised its inhuman head and roared at the eerie, pink-tinged sky, a roar devoid of any intelligence, filled only with pure bestiality and an aura of calamity!

[The Calamity of the Beasts - Confirmed!]

-

As the dust of the Flame Calamity and Percival's last glimmer dissipated, a heavy silence enveloped the Nautilus. Morgan gazed at the fallen, tarnished Holy Lance, and slowly spoke, his voice low, revealing the buried past.