Warm, radiant sunlight poured down as a white-haired man in a white mage's robe, his face refined and handsome, leaned against a large tree, comfortably napping with his eyes squinted.
Sunlight filtered through the leaves in dappled spots.
A gentle breeze rustled the branches, shifting the mottled shadows across the ground.
Ancient Britain was in the dead of night, but Avalon knew no darkness.
A shadow suddenly fell over him, blocking the light.
Merlin didn't open his eyes, still lounging lazily. "You're here?"
"You knew I'd come?"
Alvin asked.
Merlin gestured to the spot beside him.
As Alvin sat, the latter drawled. "Nothing in this world escapes
Big Brother Merlin's eyes... What happens in Britain, what the future holds—there's nothing I don't know."
If anyone else said this, Alvin would probably retort. 'Who the hell are you kidding?'
But this was Merlin... Britain's court mage was shrouded in far too much mystery.
Though he only possessed the "Clairvoyance" to observe the present, he could deduce the future from it.
So Alvin didn't doubt Merlin's words.
"So you already know why I'm here?"
Alvin asked.
"Of course."
Merlin opened his eyes, smiling as he gazed at the endless prairie ahead: "It's about the Beasts, right?"
Alvin nodded.
"Even if we do a lot now, ancient Britain will still meet its end."
Merlin said softly.
The Age of Gods drawing to a close meant the fall of an empire.
The wheels of history were unstoppable; no matter how brilliant a nation, it would collapse with the end of the Age of Gods.
Britain, with the White Dragon, the Red Dragon, and the witch Morgan le Fay, would meet its end all the same.
From the very beginning, Merlin had known this.
"I don't know what Britain's ultimate fate will be, but at least the Beasts' appearance is outside history, right?"
Alvin said.
"The transmigrators, the cooperation with the Clock Tower...those are also outside history, aren't they?"
Merlin smiled at Alvin: "And no matter how they struggle, the end will be the same."
Merlin had once tried aiding Artoria, hoping to preserve Britain's glory... but he found the outcome unchanged no matter what, so he eventually gave up and slacked off.
"You won't regret it?"
Alvin asked suddenly.
"What?"
"After I left, you watched Lily grow up... Do you think if you told her Britain's final fate, she'd give up?"
Merlin didn't speak, but he already knew the answer.
With Artoria's personality, even knowing the end, she'd fight to the last... until ancient Britain reached its final glory.
"Effort may not change anything, but at least in future histories, it'll shine like brilliant fireworks, leaving its mark."
Merlin shook his head.
"That won't convince me."
Alvin pointed toward where Morgan was, then silently drew the Holy Sword of the Stars.
"That big sister who can also enter Avalon, plus this sword, can that convince you?"
Merlin froze, staring at Alvin in astonishmentm "Who taught you to persuade like that?"
He glanced warily at the Holy Sword of the Stars in Alvin's hand, then sighed helplessly.
"If possible, I'd rather it was Lily convincing me, not you..."
He paused, then continued. "But... I can lend a little help."
...
The next day, afternoon.
In the palace gardens, flowers bloomed in summer splendor.
Soft sunlight filtered through white curtains into the room.
A gentle breeze rustled the leaves with a *shh-shh*, swaying the curtains and casting fragmented shadows.
In the pure white glow, the twin-tailed girl sat somewhat stiffly on an intricately carved wooden chair, hands holding a cup of tea still steaming.
Mordred lounged on a nearby sofa, left leg crossed over right, body lazily reclined against the backrest.
Her emerald eyes idly studied the girl, expression thoughtful.
"You can relax. Father told me to take good care of you. Until Tokiomi arrives, stay here comfortably, no one will disturb you."
Mordred said soon after.
"Thank you..."
Rin instinctively glanced at Mordred nearby, whispering. "You don't seem much like the rebellious knight from the legends."
"Where's the difference?"
Mordred's brow arched.
She knew the transmigrators had read Britain's history, but she hadn't expected even a child like Rin to know it so well.
Seeing the girl hesitate, Mordred said: "Just say what's on your mind. I'm not that petty."
"You don't seem like the rebellious knight from King Arthur's legends..."
In the tales, the rebel knight Mordred fought King Arthur to the death at Camlann, personally killing her father... and in history, she was among the most "rebellious."
Yet from meeting Mordred until now, Rin only saw her acting like an obedient daughter before the White Dragon...which was utterly unbelievable.
"How am I different?"
Mordred asked casually.
"You seem to listen to your parents."
Rin said.
An ordinary person might laugh it off, but Mordred bolted upright, flustered. "When did I ever listen to my parents? I'm only staying in the palace for the greater good, and I've never obeyed Artoria's orders."
Mordred lived by her "rebellious" creed.
Whatever Artoria told her to do, she'd do the opposite.
If not for Morgan and Alvin being in the palace, Artoria would likely show little Mo why flowers are so red.
Artoria at this stage was far more mature in body and mind than in her youth, but when it came to raising children, she was clueless, mostly relying on the rod to produce filial sons.
Alvin, as a modern 21st-century man, preferred love over the rod for guidance.
"You don't listen to the White Dragon either?"
Rin probed.
Mordred paused for a moment, then slumped back, looking away. "He's different."
Rin's heart stirred, curiosity in her tone: "I heard the White Dragon left Britain long ago... Did he return later?"
Mordred hummed. "Mother said a lot happened back then. Many thought he was dead. I only met him later."
She'd only known Alvin as a father for a short time, yet she listened to him more than her two mothers...?
Rin grew even more curious about this mysterious White Dragon.
"Just rest here. If you need anything, have the servants at the door fetch me."
Perhaps tired of Rin's questions, Mordred stood to leave after her instructions.
Looking at the the rebel knight depart, Rin soon looked away. Recalling today's events, immense curiosity welled up in her heart.
Even in King Arthur's legends, records of the White Dragon were scarce, so most subconsciously overlooked it.
But from her father, her sister, and even Mordred's descriptions, their evaluations of the White Dragon were exceptionally high.
And today, facing a Beast, he had effortlessly driven her off.
If the Fifth Holy Grail War began... he might be the perfect Servant.
But Sakura... Rin's heart suddenly grew heavy.
The Holy Grail War wasn't child's play.
Usually, the Greater Grail only descended when Servants were reduced to the last one standing.
Often, Masters eliminated rivals by killing their Masters outright, taking out Servant and all.
Sakura was still nominally the Matou heir, so she was qualified for the next war.
If both sisters participated... would they end up enemies?
Sakura already carried psychological scars from being sent to the Matou family.
If she later learned Rin summoned the White Dragon... how would she feel?
Rin's eyes filled with worry.
But she quickly shook her head, clearing the jumbled thoughts to calm herself.
Thinking so much now was pointless.
After all, her father might not even obtain the White Dragon's holy relic... Why worry so much?
Rin let out a relaxed smile, sat back in the chair, took a sip of tea, and glanced at the countdown in her vision.
Remaining: 83:00:32:59
83:00:32:58...
83:00:32:57...
...
Three days passed in the blink of an eye.
In those three days, Alvin met Rin once and successfully located Tokiomi Tohsaka.
Upon learning his daughter had become a transmigrator, Tokiomi was shocked.
But hearing she was in the palace eased his heart.
He asked through intermediaries if Rin could stay there for now.
After all, compared to having her by his side, the palace was safest.
Alvin didn't refuse.
The Tohsaka family had some ties with the Gem Mage..so, this was a small favor.
The return countdown drew nearer.
Perhaps because Merlin was monitoring the city, or because the battle between Sessyoin and Alvin had drawn hidden enemies' attention, Britain remained unusually peaceful.
Meanwhile, cooperation between the Clock Tower and ancient Britain proceeded smoothly.
One aspect was transmigrator management; the other was food.
Ancient Britain was at the end of the Age of Gods...many plants and crops had withered.
King Arthur faced public doubt during this period, leading to Britain's eventual collapse.
Their current challenge was sustaining natural crop growth amid dying vegetation.
This wasn't Alvin's field, so it was left to specialized magi.
Return countdown: 00:00:10:00
In the final ten minutes, Rin closed her eyes, regulating her breathing.
Unlike other transmigrators, who faced troubles, even death, upon arrival, Rin's only danger was at the start.
The rest was peaceful.
After all, in Britain's palace, someone protected her well.
And it was all because of one person.
The White Dragon... Historical records of him were scarce, but this experience gave Rin deeper insight.
If before she couldn't understand why Sakura wanted to see him again, now she somewhat could.
'You really have to experience it to understand...' A faint smile touched her lips as she closed her eyes.
00:00:00:03...
00:00:00:02...
00:00:00:01.
The countdown ended.
White light engulfed her, countless voices shouting in her ears.
When Rin opened her eyes again, she saw a classically simple room.
The tea on the table was still warm.
'Back...' She looked at her hands. Even after experiencing "transmigration," it felt unreal.
At that moment, a low male voice came from outside the door.
"Rin, I need to talk to you."
-The voice was... Father?
The giitl snapped back, opened the door, and saw the elegantly dressed man in a suit.
His expression looked slightly weary—due to the black mud's "curse," Tokiomi Tohsaka had been in this state for some time.
"Father, what's wrong?"
Rin asked, puzzled.
"I need to leave home for a while."
Tokiomi said.
Under Rin's confused gaze, he briefly explained the reason.
The black mud's curse, possible treatment at the Clock Tower...
Hearing this, Rin understood but felt reluctant.
Before she could process it, Tokiomi gently patted her head.
"Before I go, I have a gift for you."
His voice was gentle.
Under Rin's puzzled gaze, he slowly took out a piece of black cloth fragment.
Rin's expression changed....she had a vague guess—and she instinctively asked: "What is this...?"
Tokiomi gazed into his daughter's eyes, calmly: "The White Dragon's holy relic."