Atop the hill where the heroes converged, the ground felt sacred to everyone, except for Fhiron, given his title.
Elizabeth jogged up first, reaching Kyto and tackling him with a relieved hug.
"You're okay!" She beamed, holding him tight.
"I mean... I think I am." Kyto muttered, still a little shell-shocked. "Everything felt weird for a second and then I saw... I don't even know. Was that really Sir Percival floating down like an angel?!"
"Yup." Jean said as he caught up. "And Gawain brought half the sky with him."
Obsidia approached quietly as her footsteps went silent despite her armored heels.
Zarutha fluttered slightly above the group, scanning the field with visible anxiety.
"There... look!"
Everyone turned.
Far away, at the center of it all, stood Arthur Pendragon, golden-haired and battle-worn, yet regal beyond measure.
Beside him was Grimhild, who seemed to be missing an eye, wearing her usual attire. Surrounding them were the Legendary Heroes.
"This is insane..." Kyto muttered
Obsidia stepped forward, and the moment she did, Arthur noticed.
He raised his hand gently, signaling to them from afar.
The heroes turned.
Arthur spoke, loud and calm.
"Ah, greetings! You all must be friends of Grimhild."
His voice carried a gentle power; the kind that drew every ear.
"Yes, they're my friends, except for the elf."
"Oi! I heard that!" Shouted Fhiron.
Grimhild looked at them with a gentle smile, relieved that they were okay. "Fhiron. Jean. Elizabeth. Kyto. Obsidia. Zarutha. Join us for a moment." Said the witch
Tristan squinted slightly, questioning these new arrivals.
"If they're truly your friends, then they deserve to hear the truth just as much as anyone." Said Arthur.
Elizabeth glanced at Kyto nervously, who gave her a reassuring nod.
Fhiron, ever confident, stepped forward first.
"I had to see it with my own eyes." the Elf King said. "I can't believe I'm face to face with Yggdrasil's saviors."
"This witch you call a friend was about to destroy half of this world." Gawain said, frowning with his arms crossed.
Everyone else widened their eyes as Fhiron stopped in his tracks.
"Destroy... half of the world?"
He glanced at Grimhild in disbelief, lifting his brow.
"Grimhild?"
The Witch of Destruction lowered her head in shame.
"I'm... sorry... my older self came back in a fit of rage. I nearly destroyed everything again."
Fhiron furrowed his brows, his expression now stern.
"You must've had a good reason for it. What happened?"
"A good reason...?" Muttered Tristan, questioning the elf King.
"Chroliosa... I couldn't save her... she perished at the hands of Lilith."
Jean's jaw dropped, Elizabeth's heart skipped a beat, and Kyto widened his eyes.
Zarutha and Obsidia could only lower their head, mourning the loss of one of their companions.
"Damn..." Fhiron closed his eyes and shook his head. "How did she die?"
"She saved me, using Destruction Magic." Said Grimhild, saddened in her eyes. "She knew it would kill her, but she didn't care. And now I cannot revive her, Resulta has a time limit."
Fhiron exhaled through his nose, glancing to the side.
"There's always a chance for another Spirit of Time to take her place... I'm sorry Grimhild."
Grimhild faced the elf King, her expression discouraged.
"But it won't be Chroliosa. It would be someone else."
"Oh my god... no!" Elizabeth covered her mouth before tears fell down her cheeks.
Kyto side-hugged her as Zarutha perched on her shoulder, patting her head with his wing.
"When Spirits die, they go to Oblivion... don't they? Isn't there a way to get her back?" Asked Kyto.
"It's not that simple." Said Grimhild, facing everyone present. "Destruction Magic is the complete annihilation of everything in existence. There is nothing that can survive it, or return from its essence. She is removed from creation."
"No way..." Jean said, huffing a deep sigh.
A heavy silence fell over the hill as the truth lingered—sharp and raw.
The loss of Chroliosa had struck deeper than any blade.
Even among those who had only known her briefly, her name carried the weight of purity, of light, and now she was gone.
Elizabeth's sobs quieted as she leaned into Kyto.
Obsidia stood motionless as Zarutha curled his wings, saying nothing for once.
Grimhild's single visible eye glistened, but she didn't cry.
She'd already shed all she had.
But just as the mourning deepened, a voice cut through the grief like steel.
"Ahem." Sir Gawain stepped forward. "I do hate to interrupt this... heartfelt moment of silence, but perhaps we can return to the immediate threat of Yggdrasil before we all die of sorrow."
Arthur shot him a glare.
"Gawain..."
"No, he's right." Grimhild said, quietly but firmly.
She stepped toward the center of the group, and even Percival turned his attention.
Her voice sharpened all of a sudden.
"We don't have the luxury of grief right now."
Fhiron raised an eyebrow, still reeling from the information.
"You're saying there's more?"
"Yes." She said bitterly, furrowing her brows. "All of this happened because of Lilith, the Idea of Evil, but she wasn't acting alone. She possessed Vrunemir's body and was working under Merlin's orders. Dracula also has something to do with this."
"Dracula?" Said Sir Tristan, stepping closer, arms crossed. "What makes you assume that?"
Grimhild turned to face the hero.
"Because Vrunemir and Dracula were working together from the very start. Vrunemir wants to bring Yggdrasil into an age of Chaos."
Percival's brow tightened, and Gawain's fists clenched.
"An age of Chaos?! You mean... like that one Witch?"
"Agnes?" Asked Grimhild.
"Yes... her... the frightening of them all." Muttered Percival.
Tristan and Gawain lowered their head, remembering the dangers of Agnes Gravenworth, and her unstoppable Chaos Magic.
Even Grimhild knew that Agnes was far too strong, even stronger than she could ever be for the most part.
"Do you think Lancelot plays a part in this?" Asked Arthur.
Grimhild shook her head.
"Fortunately he doesn't, but Lancelot is aware of Vrunemir and Dracula's alliance, however, he merely wishes for the war to continue so he can one day challenge them both to a duel."
"Are you serious?" Muttered Tristan. "That doesn't sound like Lancelot at all."
"Something must've happened ever since we split up." Said Arthur, crossing his arms in thought.
"What should we do?" Jean asked, stepping forward with a stern look. "We can't just let the world end! There must be something we can do to stop them!"
"We must ambush Dracula." Said Percival.
"No." Arthur shook his head. "Dracula is strong. Even stronger than me. That would be foolish; we must form a strategy." The King of Camelot turned to face his comrades. "We'll meet at Camelot and talk this over."
Gawain, Tristan, and Percival suddenly smiled.
"Heh, just like the good old days, huh?" Chuckled Gawain.
"Just like it." Said Arthur, nodding his head with a smile.
"Very well then. We'll set off to Camelot, Sir Arthur, do not keep us waiting."
Arthur shook his head.
"Aye. I'll be there."
As the last of the agreement faded, the Legendary Heroes—Gawain, Tristan, and Percival—each turned to rally their respective armies.
In unison, they began their descent from the hill, fading into the distance.
Arthur watched them leave with a smile, waving them off.
Grimhild stood beside him in silence with her usual unreadable expression.
"Do all of you have means of transportation by any chance?" Asked Arthur, turning to face them all with a smile.
"Yes." Said Obsidia, stepping forward in a regal manner. "Authority of Freyr, initiated." The golem of Providence suddenly lifted her hand to the sky above them. "Success Rate of Summoning Skidbladnir: 100%."
Everyone stared at Obsidia, confused, until a magic circle with Nordic runes appeared, fabricating something in the sky above them.
Everyone widened their eyes as Grimhild remained stoic before she smiled.
"Ah, the Ship of the Gods, Skidbladnir." She said, grinning.
"Skidbladnir? You can use authorities?" Asked Arthur, puzzled.
The Ship's shadow loomed over everyone as its divine mana emanated outwards.
It was known as the greatest of all ships, being so wide and long that it could hold every God in Asgard.
It could fly anywhere and nowhere—as its main power allowed it to traverse into any domain, regardless of its distance and complexity.
"I've heard of this ship in tales." Said Fhiron, crossing his arms. "Skidbladnir, the ship that can sail across time itself.
Elizabeth's tears slowly faded as she clung to Kyto, looking up at the ship with wide eyes whilst wiping her tears.
"Oh… wow… It's so pretty…"
"It's been many years since I've seen a divine artifact in Midgard after the Legendary Age. It's quite refreshing." Said King Arthur, chuckling.
"I couldn't agree more, Arthur." Said Fhiron, stealing a glance at him.
Grimhild suddenly approached the King of Camelot, standing in front of him. Confused, Arthur looked at her, lifting his brow.
"Grimhild? What is it—?"
Before he could finish his words, the witch stood on her tippy toes, leaning forward to press her lips against his.
Arthur blinked.
His eyes, bright with noble calmness a second ago, widened in complete disbelief.
The world itself seemed to pause.
The sky, the wind, even the mana in the air, all froze as the Witch of Destruction softly pressed her lips to the King of Camelot's.
The kiss was gentle and fleeting, like a breeze going across a war-torn field.
Everyone else stood completely still.
Elizabeth's jaw dropped open.
"W-What?!"
Kyto choked on his own breath.
"HUH?!"
Jean nearly dropped his sword.
Zarutha's wings stopped mid-flap, his beak agape.
"S-She's kissing Arthur! SHE'S KISSING THE KING OF CAMELOT!"
Even Obsidia's sensors glitched momentarily, and she turned to Fhiron in slow disbelief.
"Is… this a normal human custom of diplomacy?"
"No." Fhiron said blankly, stunned. "That's a different kind of pact."
Arthur didn't move.
His hands remained half-raised, as if frozen between defending his honor and holding the moment still.
She looked at him with her single eye, pulling back as he remained frozen in time.
"Thank you for everything, Arthur Pendragon."