Fairy Round Table Realm, Poem of Eternal Mist

As the dazzling light gradually softened and stabilized, everyone was finally able to see their surroundings clearly.

The Nautilus hovered above a vast, boundless field of pink flowers that stretched to the horizon. A gentle breeze stirred, causing the flowers to ripple like a sea, exuding a tranquil and healing aura. Not far away, a snow-white tower, elegantly and anciently styled, adorned with golden ornamentation at its top, stood quietly in the center of the flower sea, reflecting a sacred and dazzling light in the sunlight.

This scene, this feeling, this tower...

Ritsuka was the first to react. Her eyes widened as she looked at the white tower, her voice trembling slightly with excitement:

"here it is……!"

Without her saying the name, many people present, especially Ritsuka and Mashu who had experienced that singularity journey, already knew.

The only one capable of performing such a miracle, creating this ideal flower field and white tower that isolates calamities and shelters all living beings, is that person who once fought alongside them but ultimately went their separate ways...

"Merlin! It's you!" Ritsuka blurted out, her eyes fixed on the white tower. "Stop hiding, you old lecher! We just got rid of one 'you,' and you're here to save the day right after!"

"Yare yare~" A familiar, flippant voice rang out, seemingly omnipresent. Light gathered before the tower, revealing Merlin, the Flower Magician—staff in hand, white robes, and a serene smile that seemed to never fade. "As expected of Fujimaru Ritsuka, your insight is still so sharp. My little tricks are nowhere to hide in front of you." He shrugged, feigning helplessness, then his expression turned slightly serious. "However, this time we did make it just in time. Even a moment later, you and this beautiful ship would probably have been completely swallowed up by the filthy 'ocean' of Kornunos."

Compared to when he met Merlin in the Seventh Singularity, Merlin's appearance was almost unchanged, still with that detached, otherworldly air. If there was any difference, it was probably the absence of that little white beast that always loved to kick his face—Fou wasn't there at the moment.

However, for the two queens of the Fairy Kingdom, Merlin's appearance was anything but "welcome." Liliana's eyes suddenly sharpened, and Morgan's face turned frosty. Regardless of the stance and intentions of this Merlin, the turmoil and trouble caused by this other "Merlin" in the Fairy Kingdom were enough to fill them with vigilance and distrust towards this name and those associated with him.

“Enough.” Merlin seemed oblivious to the two queens’ displeased expressions, or perhaps he simply didn’t care. He waved his hand. “I brought you into this ‘Avalon’ territory not so you could argue with me. The most urgent task now is to complete the fairies’ ‘true atonement.’ Only in this way can we possibly shake, or even defeat, that big guy outside—Cornunos.”

His gaze swept over Morgan and Liliana, his tone unusually serious: "Vivian, Liliana, you should still remember, right? The oath and betrayal of the original 'six fairies'."

“You’re not worthy to call me by that name!” Morgan interrupted coldly, but the topic of the “six fairies” had clearly touched on the core issue. “…Of course I know about that. So, what do you intend to do?”

Merlin ignored Morgan's reprimand, and simply raised his hand, pointing to the towering, pure white tower in the center of the sea of ​​flowers, its top gleaming with golden light.

“The path to redemption lies there,” he said calmly. “Follow this flower-lined path until you reach the tower—the place where the six fairies were supposed to work together to forge the ‘Sword of the Chosen,’ fulfilling their mission and atoneing for their sins. There, the final, complete ritual of ‘redemption’ can be performed.”

He paused, his gaze sweeping over the three "Paradise Fairies" present: "There is no limit to the number of people. Fortunately, all three of you are here. If any one of you can cross this path, reach the sword-forging site beneath the tower, and complete the ritual—then the collective 'atonement' of the British fairies will be complete."

The words had barely left his mouth—

"let me!"

Almost simultaneously, Morgan and Liliana stepped forward and spoke without hesitation. After a moment's hesitation, they both paused, then looked at each other, an awkward and heavy tension filling the air.

“You stay here, Vivian!” Liliana spoke first, her tone resolute and authoritative. “This is the mission I failed to complete in the first place! It’s the mess I left behind! You don’t need to, and shouldn’t, take on this responsibility and die!”

“Your Majesty!” Morgan’s voice was equally resolute, even tinged with agitation. “I too bear undeniable guilt! After you, I had the opportunity to correct everything and guide the fairies toward the right path of atonement… but I did not! I chose to perpetuate this twisted kingdom, even condoning and indulging the fairies’ continued mistakes and depravity! If we are to speak of faults, I am the most heinous villain who should pay the price!”

“You’re still young, Vivian!” Liliana’s voice rose slightly with urgency. “You still have a future, you still have possibilities! I won’t allow you to sacrifice yourself in vain!”

“But Your Majesty…” Morgan’s voice choked, and an extremely complicated emotion flashed in his eyes, “You finally… finally came back to my side… how can I just watch you go again…”

The debate between the two queens intensified, with neither willing to back down. The heavy burden of history, deep sense of guilt, and desire to protect each other intertwined, leading to a stalemate.

Just as the argument was escalating and nearly turning into another conflict, a voice, unexpected yet remarkably clear and firm, broke the heavy silence:

"Your Majesty, Your Majesty."

Everyone looked in the direction of the voice and saw Caster—Artoria Caster—stepping forward. Her face showed no hesitation, only a clear and resolute understanding.

"Leave this matter to me."

Her words were calm, yet carried immense power.

"Because I am the 'pilgrimage' fairy of this era. This is my destiny, a path that was given to me from the moment I was born and that I must walk myself."

She turned to Merlin, her gaze unwavering: "Merlin, let's begin."

Then, she looked at Morgan and Liliana, her tone pleading yet unwavering: "This time... please forgive my whims. Your Majesty, Your Majesty the Former Emperor. I absolutely cannot... allow my mission to be abandoned halfway at this moment, for any reason."

Before she could finish speaking, and before Morgan could even raise his hand to stop her, Caster's figure was already enveloped by the teleportation array Merlin had instantly deployed! In a flash of light, she disappeared from the deck of the Nautilus and appeared below in the boundless, fragrant sea of ​​pink flowers.

His feet sank into the soft flower field, surrounded by an atmosphere of utter tranquility, a stark contrast to the apocalyptic scene outside. Castor took a deep breath, exhaling the last trace of gloom and unease from his heart.

She raised her head and gazed at the majestic, sacred, pure white tower in the distance, gleaming in the sunlight. That was the goal, the end, and also… the beginning of the unknown.

Swallowing hard, Caster gripped the Staff of Choice tightly. Fear remained, but the conviction that she "should do it" overwhelmed everything. She thought, this is what a brave person should be like when facing their destiny.

She turned back one last time, glancing at the Nautilus, suspended in the strange sky of Avalon like a metallic star. Her gaze seemed to pierce through the ship, meeting a look of concern, worry, and perhaps even pride within its surface.

Silently recite in your heart, like a silent vow and farewell:

"Watch closely, Your Majesty..."

"This time, I will definitely... accomplish my own mission!"

When Stars Are Born - Fairy Round Table Realm, Poem of Eternal Mist

As his footsteps tread upon the soft, fragrant petals, Castor's gaze sweeps across the tranquil sea of ​​flowers, causing it to ripple and shift like the surface of water. It is not an illusion, but fragments buried deep within the river of memory, awakened by this special place, vividly unfolding before his eyes like a silent mime, or a rewind of the most real memories.

She saw the village of Ottlin, engulfed in flames and shouts of battle; she saw the old blacksmith, hammer in hand, shielding her from a fatal blow with his aged yet resolute back, his gaze upon her as he fell, a mixture of entrustment and relief in his eyes. A bone-chilling cold immediately swept over her—it was the Edinburgh ice plains, the sky blurred by swirling snowflakes, her body temperature fading with each breath, her limbs numb, her consciousness flickering like a candle in the wind, the horizon an endless, despairing expanse of pure white. Then, there was light—a warm, powerful, undeniable magic that enveloped her, dispelling the cold and death, pulling her from the edge of eternal freeze back to reality. It was Morgan's hand, the "salvation" that occasionally peeked from beneath the Queen's icy exterior, a "salvation" powerful enough to alter the course of fate.

These images weren't the first time Castor had "seen" them. They had flashed before her eyes like a revolving lantern when she was on the verge of freezing to death. It was a past she didn't want to look back on, a past that still chilled her to the bone whenever she thought about it.

But as "Paradise Fairies" banished from Paradise and born with a heavy mission, have they ever had a smooth and easy path? What did the previous Queen Liliana experience? What thorny and bloody two thousand years did Her Majesty Morgan traverse? Compared to them, what are my own setbacks and sufferings? What right do I have to crave shortcuts or luck?

Any thoughts of taking shortcuts have long been shattered by the hammer of reality. Now, she must consider how to face all of this, how to carry the past and walk towards the predetermined end.

【yes……】

Since being rescued by His Majesty, no matter how many times I fall or how much I despair, I always manage to... get back on my feet quickly.

This is probably my only strength.

These sixteen years have passed so quickly... yet so fulfilling and joyful.

Thank you all... for being so kind to me.

I am a Fairy of Paradise, born to bring true "salvation" to Britain.

Although it's still clumsy and has many shortcomings... but, just as everyone expected—

Let's begin my pilgrimage!

She had imagined it would be a lonely path strewn with thorns, misunderstood by all, a path where she would have to swallow all the bitterness alone. Fortunately, she had Her Majesty. Morgan imparted all her knowledge to her, from the mysteries of magic to the insight into human nature, from the principles of governance to the rules of survival. That always stern-faced queen, in her unique and almost harsh way, meticulously sculpted this rough gem, gradually transforming her from an innocent and delicate girl into a mature woman. That meticulous guidance and protection was her greatest support in a dark age when humans were generally hostile to fairies, allowing her to survive and continue forward.

When she arrived in the nameless village, concealing her identity and attempting to become an ordinary girl who was "nobody," it was such a naive and extravagant thought. Even His Majesty bluntly rebuked her for her naiveté. But she wasn't running away; she simply wanted to briefly, from a perspective completely unrelated to the "Child of Prophecy," to touch this world and search for that perhaps existing, different "self." To keep her secret, she dared not develop deep relationships with anyone in the village, carefully maintaining that fragile, self-created "stability"...

As the tide of memories receded, Castor's gaze refocused on the boundless pink sea of ​​flowers in Avalon. A gentle breeze carried a delicate fragrance and a new vista.

Not far away, a "flower prison" woven from white vines and shimmering starlight, resembling a birdcage, caught her eye. Imprisoned within was a familiar figure—the "other" Merlin who had once stirred up trouble in the Fairy Kingdom and was later severely injured by Arthur, or rather, the succubus appearing in the form of "Merry." At this moment, she still wore that pleasant and languid smile, as if she were forever savoring some kind of wicked amusement, as if she were not the one imprisoned, but rather enjoying an amusing drama.

Noticing the wary and complex look in Castor's eyes, Merlin, standing beside Castor, spoke casually, as if introducing an insignificant decoration:

“Don’t worry about that ‘me’.” He pointed his staff at the flower cage. “She’s currently immobilized and can only… talk a lot. She poses no threat whatsoever.”

Castor glanced silently at Mary in the flower cage, pursed his lips, and finally looked away.

“Never mind…” she muttered to herself, as if reminding herself, “His Majesty warned me… not to have too much contact with you ‘dream demons’. Your very existence… is a huge and unpredictable ‘danger’.”

Ignoring Merlin's feigned grievances beside her, she refocused her attention on the road ahead, and continued walking towards the depths of the flower field and the white pagoda.

Ignored, Merlin touched his nose, not taking it to heart, but cast a slightly helpless glance at "himself" in the flower cage.

From inside the flower cage, Meryl let out a low, all-knowing laugh: "Hehehe... What a... fledgling bird that desperately craves 'destruction'~ I thought I'd never see such amusing 'fun' again~"

"Just shut up," Merlin said irritably to the flower cage. "Right now, you can't do anything. Just stay here and 'reflect' for a while. After all, I know what 'I' am thinking."

"Oh my gosh~" Meryl's tone remained flippant. "I never thought I'd be lectured by 'myself' one day~ But, staying in this endless, unchanging sea of ​​flowers all the time... you must be bored, right?"

"Boring?" Merlin raised an eyebrow, revealing a meaningful smile. "I'm not... as low as you."

Two "Merlins," strikingly different in appearance and gender, yet subtly similar at their core, bickered and sarcastically exchanged words across the starlight-filled cage. For Merlin, Avalon's "chief entertainer," acting on a whim and disregarding rules and common sense, any lecture was utterly meaningless. After all, faced with the nature of nightmares and an numbingly long lifespan, "lawlessness" was perhaps the most accurate description of her. The other Merlin, it seemed, had long since grown accustomed to this peculiar interaction with "himself."

[The King of Britain, Artoria Pendragon… and Arthur Pendragon from that parallel world. I've heard that Artoria is what I might become in the pan-human history. Whenever I think of this, a strong sense of unease rises within me.]

Caster paused almost imperceptibly for a moment amidst the sea of ​​flowers.

[An ideal knight? A life lived for others? A king who dedicates everything to the future of Britain?]

She shook her head gently, as if trying to shake the thought out of her mind.

I...don't want to become that kind of person. That kind of life, that kind of 'sacrifice,' in my opinion, is really...unappealing.

“…Never mind,” she muttered to herself, as if trying to convince herself, “I shouldn’t think about it anymore. That’s right, this is fine. Because…only I can help that girl.”

Yet, time and again, whenever the pilgrimage bells toll, similar thoughts quietly surface. But—because the 'stars' are still watching—I don't even know where I want to go? The so-called 'mission' is utterly meaningless; the identity of the 'Child of Prophecy' only makes me want to abandon it and escape! But…why? If that's the case, what difference is there between me and His Majesty, the previous Emperor, who were obsessed with their mission and ultimately went to different extremes? And why…do I still refuse to give up the thought of 'living'?

So, at the very least... I really want to know.

I want to know the reason why I couldn't give up completely from beginning to end.

Want to know the root cause of how I, who am neither a majestic queen nor a born savior, but just an extremely ordinary "someone", ended up in this situation?

For ordinary beings like us, what exactly does that "star" in the distant sky, which guides our way, represent?

"...The light is so blinding."

Castor raised his hand, slightly shielding his eyes from the sunlight. It wasn't sunlight, but some purer, more ancient radiance, penetrating the misty sea of ​​flowers, growing ever stronger.

As she drew closer to the light source, the blinding light gradually softened and diminished. Finally, a completely new scene unfolded before her eyes.

This is no longer an endless sea of ​​flowers, but an ancient courtyard seemingly suspended in the void of space. Beneath one's feet lies strange stone, smooth as a mirror, reflecting endless starlight. There are no walls, only flowing curtains, as if woven from starlight itself. The vast, boundless starry sky hangs low, seemingly within reach, countless stars converging and swirling here, radiating a powerful and ancient magical pulse. The air is filled with the scent of time's sedimentation, and… a pure, ultimate will of "possibility" and "forging."

This is the "place where the Holy Sword was forged"—the "Chosen Place"—that Merlin spoke of. It is the place where, in the legends of the fairies of Paradise throughout the ages, the final mission and redemption were completed, and it embodies the magic and lingering resentment left behind by the original six treacherous fairies, spanning thousands of years.

At the edge of the courtyard, the Chaldea members—Ritsuka, Mash, Da Vinci, Senji Muramasa, and the two queens, Morgan and Liliana—were already waiting. Each of their faces was solemn, their gazes fixed on Caster as he entered, a silent tension and deep worry filling the air.

Castor's gaze swept over the crowd, finally settling on the center of the courtyard—there, instead of the anvil and furnace he had imagined, was a circular "furnace of the universe" that seemed to lead directly to the earth's core, its edges inscribed with countless ancient fairy characters. The furnace's mouth was deep, and inside surged an energy vortex that was not flames, but pure starlight.

“Merlin,” Castor’s voice was unusually calm, “this is the final ‘Forging Grounds,’ right? And now…”

“That’s right.” Merlin’s figure appeared silently not far from her side, pointing to the Cosmic Furnace where starlight surged. “At its center lies the ‘Cosmic Furnace’—the final resting place of the [Paradise Fairies], and the root of the Holy Sword’s ‘establishment.’ As long as you…”

The words "included in" were not even fully uttered!

"That damned Merlin!!!"

Two furious shouts rang out almost simultaneously! Morgan and Liliana moved like lightning, instantly appearing in front of Merlin! Morgan grabbed his collar tightly, while Liliana gripped his shoulders. The two unleashed astonishing strength, slamming the Grand Magician candidate to the ground!

"How dare you... how dare you never say that!" Morgan's purple eyes burned with near-mad rage and fear, his voice trembling with extreme anger. "You want to kill this child?! She's my... my child whom I raised and nurtured with my own hands! And now you want to make her... make her a 'sacrifice' for forging the sword?!"

Liliana's palm had already gathered destructive magic powerful enough to tear apart space, locking onto Merlin. The ancient queen's killing intent was palpable: "No wonder you've been so evasive and evasive! You've been waiting for this moment all along! Merlin... this time, I will surely cut off your hypocritical head!"

Faced with two enraged queens, both possessing top-tier strength, even Merlin appeared somewhat disheveled. The Chaldea members, though distressed, did not step forward to stop him. Merlin had indeed concealed the most crucial and cruel part—the "establishment" of the Holy Sword required a fairy from Paradise to be thrown into the furnace as the core of the "Sword Soul"!

However, Castor, at the eye of the storm, seemed oblivious to the roars and arguments behind her. Her gaze remained calmly fixed on the deep, mysterious furnace of the universe.

Without hesitation or fear, she took a step, one after another, resolutely walking towards the ancient forging platform in the center of the courtyard. As she approached, the forging platform, silent for thousands of years, seemed to sense the arrival of its true master, beginning to hum on its own, its surface displaying mysterious patterns of light, and finally radiating a warm and dazzling pure white light, as if welcoming her, or as if confirming her presence.