"If you're a powerful magus in an illusion, do you think you'll stay that way when you wake up? If so, I'd never have to go to class again. That would be the life..."
Louis couldn't help but drift into a pleasant daydream.
Wayland shot him a sideways glance. What is this guy even thinking about?
He pulled his thoughts back to the conversation. "Actually, it's not that hard to understand. Think of it like a case of dissociative identity disorder. There was once a person who developed seven distinct personalities. Each one didn't just have a different temperament; they had entirely different skill sets. One was an expert in combat, another was a concert pianist, another was a seasoned cowboy... None of them had ever been exposed to those skills or that knowledge in their core life, yet they possessed them as naturally as if they were born with them."
Hishiri Adashino nodded. "Regardless of the 'how,' the result is what matters. While we've endured a fierce assault, our progress on the ruins has advanced significantly.
"Before we proceed, however, I need to ask you one more question. We must ensure no one else falls prey to these illusions during the next phase of the expedition. How exactly did you wake up, Wayland?"
"Honestly, I'm just as confused as you are," Wayland said with a wry smile. "I 'died' within the illusion, fell into a long period of absolute darkness, and then... I just woke up."
"It seems your luck is truly exceptional. In most cases, dying within such a potent illusion leads the mind to believe it has truly ceased to exist. This often results in a permanent loss of consciousness--the target effectively becomes a vegetable. Only a very small percentage of individuals possess the mental fortitude to realize they are in a dream and force themselves awake."
Hishiri turned back to the assembled bridge staff. "Twelfth team, deactivate the weapons systems. All other teams, return to your stations. Operatives from the first four teams, temporarily suspend all underwater surveys until further notice."
"Understood!"
Wayland joined the chorus of responses and followed the others back into the main bridge.
The massive main screen, which had been clogged with the black swarm only minutes ago, now displayed a clear, panoramic view of the vast North Atlantic horizon.
The crew efficiently returned to their stations.
As an operative, Wayland didn't have a designated seat. He scanned the room, and seeing no available chairs, he settled for standing before the main screen alongside several other members who were doing the same. It was less awkward than he had expected.
Hishiri Adashino stood at the front of the bridge. "Pascal, report. Have the professors in the Archaeology Department reached a conclusion regarding the song from the conch shell?"
"Yes, Captain." Pascal pulled out his phone. "Professor, have you identified the origin of the language? ... I see. Understood. Thank you, Professor."
He turned back to Hishiri. "The recording has been identified. It's a specific branch of ancient Celtic known as Scottish Gaelic. It originated in 5th-century Ireland before spreading to the region of Caledonia--what we now know as Scotland."
"The 5th century..."
Hishiri mused. The timeline perfectly aligned with the legends of King Arthur. Could it truly be her?
"Have the lyrics been translated?" she asked.
"They have. According to the professors, this isn't a 'song' in the modern sense. It's an ancient bardic poem. To understand its significance, we have to look at the history of the bards themselves.
"The earliest bards were of Celtic origin, with records dating back to the 1st century. They were an essential part of the Druidic order--the keepers of legend and culture, the ones who were said to be close to the animal kingdom and masters of musical instruments. While the profession has effectively vanished in the modern era, the bardic style of poetry still persists in certain circles."
Pascal took a breath, his expression becoming solemn. "The translated lyrics are an exact match for the opening song performed by the idol May Riddell the other night. This confirms our theory: these ruins are directly connected to Morgan le Fay Pendragon."
Morgan le Fay?
Wayland felt a jolt of shock at the name.
'I was the familiar of Artoria's sister, Morgan le Fay, within the illusion?'
'First Scathach, then Merlin, and now Morgan... why do I keep running into figures from the Age of Knights?'
'Is this my 'Luck EX' stat at work?'
Wayland kept his expression neutral, but in his mind, he called out to Irigal. 'Irigal, there's something I don't understand. If I taught those crows their formations and magecraft within the illusion, and then they used them two thousand years later... did my consciousness actually travel back in time?'
['No,'] Irigal replied. ['You and the crows were simply re-experiencing events that had already happened two millennia ago. You weren't the one 'leading' them in reality; you were merely following the path that had already been carved. In essence, you were watching a highly immersive VR movie where your perspective was locked into the role of the Raven King.']
'So there really was a crow that clever?'
['Naturally. Think of the geniuses of the Uchiha clan you know from your memories. Do you really think their raven summons were any less impressive than you were in that role?']
'...'
'You have a point. I can't even argue with that.'
Wayland ended the mental conversation. Only a few seconds had passed in the real world.
"Morgan le Fay..." Hishiri Adashino let out a long breath. "A truly formidable figure in the history of magecraft. Elena, I'm turning the next phase over to you."
"Understood."
Elena stepped forward. She raised her hand, her thumb and forefinger seemingly pinching the air itself. With a subtle tug, she 'tore' a ten-centimeter rift in space and pulled a stack of documents from the void.
"Everyone, the information you are about to receive is classified as Top Secret. According to the standing orders of the Clock Tower, every individual present must sign a soul contract--a Grand-ranked curse. Unless you achieve the rank of 'Grand' yourself, anyone who reveals the secrets contained herein will have their soul shattered instantly. Even the most malevolent black magecraft will be unable to restore you. If anyone is unwilling to bind themselves to this contract, please leave the bridge now."
No one moved. As official members of the Department of Policies, they were all too familiar with the concept of binding secrecy.
Wayland was likely the only one who didn't fully grasp the weight of the moment.
But he remembered his conversation with Seiji Asagami.
A similar curse guarded the most sensitive archives of the Clock Tower's judicial department.
What kind of secret could Morgan le Fay possibly be hiding that requires this level of security?
Wayland took the soul contract. It was a single, thin sheet of material--not paper, but something incredibly smooth and silken, like the highest-quality satin.
The text written upon it was exquisite and perfectly aligned, but the language was entirely alien to him.
It felt like staring at a complex math problem.
He recognized the symbols, but collectively, they were as indecipherable as a celestial script.
He assumed it was some form of ancient or forgotten tongue used by the 'Old Guard' of the Clock Tower--beings like Zouken Matou, who had maintained their obsessions for five centuries.
Wayland signed his name.
As he finished the final stroke, the text on the contract began to glow with a soft, ethereal blue light. It wasn't blinding; it was more like the shimmering dance of fireflies on a summer night. With a subtle pulse, the light coalesced and settled into the ink of his signature.
An instinctive chill rippled through his body.
He knew that if he ever violated the terms of the agreement, that chill would trigger the curse and end his life in a heartbeat.
Names--true names--were powerful anchors in the world of magecraft. Countless spells and rituals depended on the knowledge of a target's true identity.
The Holy Grail War was the ultimate example.
Once a Servant's true name was revealed, their threat level plummeted as their legends and, crucially, their fatal weaknesses became known to all.
[Translated and Rewritten by Shika_Kagura]