"Kill Beryl?"
Fairy Tristan never dreamed her mother, Morgan, would utter that name. Beryl was one of the only two people she truly cared for, and he had spent far more time with her than Morgan ever had. She had long since grown dependent on him.
"Isn't he your husband, Mother? And you were the one who told me to learn from him. Why would you...?"
"You're still as naive as ever!" Morgan snapped, her expression one of exasperated disappointment. It reminded Fairy Tristan of her past lives, where she had always been so easily deceived. Even now, transformed into a ruthless fairy, she was still being manipulated. Morgan had always arrived too late. If not for Jiang You's warning, this time—her final chance—Fairy Tristan's fate would have been even more tragic. Why can't she be more selfish?
"Kill Beryl. That's an order! And forget that cursed spell. I forbid you from using that thing!"
Beryl lay sprawled on a lavish, sickeningly opulent sofa, savoring fruits from around the world. He had initially found this indulgence unsettling, but now he relished it with practiced ease.
When he saw the distraught Fairy Tristan appear before him, he was overjoyed. Much like the pleasure-seeking Kirei Kotomine, he derived pleasure from the suffering of others. He could sense the fluctuations of Morgan's magical power even from where he stood, confirming that Fairy Tristan had once again been reprimanded. Yet he feigned concern, asking, "Princess, what happened?"
"Beryl, I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!"
Fairy Tristan didn't answer, simply standing there and crying.
Beryl suddenly felt a foreboding chill. A powerful magical power had locked onto him—a familiar wavelength he recognized instantly as Morgan's.
Fairy Tristan drew her lyre-bow, a weapon she had crafted in imitation of Tristan from Pan-Human History. Her fingers pressed against the strings, but she couldn't bring herself to pluck them. Though she could freely torment other fairies, she now lacked the strength to move.
"Beryl, tell me—what exactly is this spell you taught me? It's supposed to be a cruelly effective incantation, one that lets me hear more screams and bathe in more blood. I even practiced it diligently! But why is Mother so angry?!"
Cold sweat streamed down Beryl's face. Fairy Tristan didn't understand the sorcery's effects, but how could Morgan not? She had deciphered Chaldea's technological pinnacle, Spiritron Transfer, in a single night. With just a glance, Morgan could discern the sorcery's true nature. Yet Beryl still struggled to maintain his facade: "Perhaps it's too crude, not worthy of her attention? My magical talent pales in comparison to Morgan's—a world apart, really... This?"
Only Fairy Tristan would believe such a transparent lie. Beryl's words brought tears gushing from her eyes: "So it's true—I still haven't satisfied Mother, and I've even implicated you, Beryl. I truly can't bring myself to harm you!"
Beryl stared blankly.
Even he hadn't expected Fairy Tristan to fall for it so easily. But what good was her belief? Morgan had already seen through his true intentions. He knew he couldn't safely escape from the Lostbelt King. With all of Britain under Morgan's control, where could he possibly flee?
Morgan couldn't maintain her composure any longer. It wasn't without reason that this child was repeatedly betrayed, each life ending in tragedy. Even her attempts to teach Tristan cruel ways of survival had failed to pull her back from her naive idealism.
"Why haven't you acted yet?"
Even seated on her throne, Morgan could see everything happening in the side hall. Fairy Tristan's hesitation and naivety gave her a splitting headache.
"Mother, if I'm the problem, punish me. I asked Beryl to teach me that spell; he only wanted to help me."
Fairy Tristan cherished her bond with the two of them. If she had to hurt someone, she would hurt herself.
Morgan clutched her head.
"Guards! Escort Fairy Knight Tristan back to her manor. She's confined to quarters—not a step beyond her room without my permission! And throw Beryl into Death Row, under strict guard! I'll personally seal him with magic!"
Morgan wouldn't kill Beryl outright. She needed him to serve as fuel for Fairy Tristan's growth. As her heir, Fairy Tristan couldn't afford to be so easily manipulated.
"Lady Morgan, is there something wrong with that spell? You know my abilities are limited; I just couldn't learn it properly..."
Beryl continued to feign ignorance, but Morgan wasn't fooled. She silenced him instantly with a magic spell.
"Tristan!"
With soldiers present, Morgan couldn't call Fairy Tristan by her true name. "Listen carefully," she barked. "Stay in your manor and reflect properly. Don't emerge until you understand everything!"
"So, you just locked Fairy Tristan in confinement without explaining anything?"
Jiang You covered his face as he listened to Morgan's account. He couldn't blame Fairy Tristan for misunderstanding Morgan's intentions, thinking she had disappointed her. "Couldn't you have at least explained? Do you enjoy being cryptic? This is your first time being a mother... Well, Pan-Human History is a bit different, so it really is your first time."
On the third day of Fairy Tristan's confinement, Jiang You fulfilled his promise and summoned Morgan during a Duel. Having confirmed the facts Jiang You had told her, Morgan officially granted him her Card.
Afterward, she began recounting the events that had transpired above.
"She's my designated successor. Some things she needs to figure out on her own."
Morgan saw nothing wrong with her approach.
"So you just let her run around with that scumbag Beryl?"
Jiang You glared sideways at Morgan. She was the very image of a career-obsessed woman neglecting her daughter's upbringing—by the time she realized it, her daughter would already be running off with some delinquent oni.
"I understand wanting her to protect herself. After all, dying tragically in successive lifetimes for being too kind is truly awful. But can becoming cruel really protect her? Won't it just hasten her hanging?"
"You understand far too little about fairies."
Morgan shook her head. "Pan-Human History's logic doesn't apply in the Land of Faerie. Fairies only act according to their desires and whims. Only absolute power, inspiring fear, can earn their loyalty."
Jiang You thought about it and agreed. These fairies' sheer wickedness was indeed a pure strain of Great British blood. If Fairy Tristan killed a few more, she might even gain Merit.
"But Fairy Tristan only has brutality," Jiang You pointed out. "Where's the absolute power?"
Jiang You hit the nail on the head. Just look at the other two who were also named Knights of the Round Table—what kind of demons and monsters were they? A Crimson Calamity and a Jet-Black Calamity. Fairy Tristan alone was a pathetic embarrassment. Even though she ultimately revived that corpse as the Horned God's miko, her personal strength remained laughably weak.
"Never mind. Relying on you, the perpetually busy one, isn't very reliable anyway."
Jiang You shrugged. It wasn't that Morgan didn't want to care about Fairy Tristan; she had too much to maintain, and no one could share her burdens.
"Isn't Fairy Tristan lacking a companion right now? Let me fill that role."
"You?"
Morgan eyed Jiang You skeptically. Setting aside the Land of Faerie's rejection of Heroic Spirits from Pan-Human History, she couldn't discern his true motives. In all her centuries, the only person who had ever shown her unconditional kindness was the Baobhan Sith from her past, many lifetimes ago.
Jiang You understood Morgan's concerns, but gaining her trust was easy enough, just like with Illya.
"You know the effects of my Noble Phantasms, right? I can use a Shadow Game to bind myself. Would that work?"