As Morgan had foreseen, the great calamity capable of annihilating Britannia finally came.
Ninety-nine percent of the fairies perished in the disaster. Even Mab of the King Clan could do no more than protect herself, powerless to shelter the others.
The "Beast Calamity" that reduced cities to ashes, and the "Flame Calamity" that scorched the land—both swept across Britannia. Only Orkney, already ruined, escaped the destruction.
Grímr, who recorded the course of the calamity, was certain this was the event that caused the Lostbelt to be pruned and meet its true end.
Yet the towering Fantasy Tree at the northernmost edge allowed this world to continue existing, even in ruin.
After completing his records, Grímr ended his long journey as a Servant, just as he had expected, and quietly withdrew from Britannia.
...
At the point later known as the transition between the Fairy Calendar and the Queen's Calendar, Morgan did not immediately use the Fantasy Tree to restore Britannia. Instead, she followed Shiomi to the domain of the Mirror Clan.
Within the lake district lay a region known as the Dark Marsh, where the remains of Albion, the Last Dragon, lay in eternal slumber.
The relic itself held little worth, but Ainsel, the previous head of the Mirror Clan, had once revealed during an act of submission—prompted by a prophecy—that while Albion's core had extinguished, its body had not perished entirely. When it fell, it severed its left hand.
That remaining fragment of living flesh had sunk to the bottom of the Dark Marsh, where it continued to exist in a fragile, half-living state.
"Why recover Albion's right hand at a time like this?" Morgan asked quietly, cradling Baobhan Sith in her arms to keep the child from being unsettled by the dense Mana in the air.
Totorot had stayed nearby to survey the surroundings.
"To become Queen, it's only natural to strengthen one's hand," Shiomi said as he raised his arm. Countless vines sprouted from the earth, twisting into the Dark Marsh and spreading along the lakebed. "Whether as a source of Magecraft materials or something else entirely, the remnant flesh of the Last Dragon is undeniably valuable."
After all, in Proper Human History, Albion's remains were said to be the foundation of the human Magecraft world. For that reason alone, Shiomi found it necessary to recover what was left.
The main bones exposed on the marsh's surface were of lesser worth—they were already long dead.
"As you wish."
Morgan herself had little interest in the remnants. Still, since Shiomi wanted her to make use of them, she would ensure they didn't go to waste.
Before long, countless vines lifted a decayed mass of flesh from the murky depths of the Dark Marsh, so decomposed it looked ready to crumble at the slightest touch.
"That's…" Morgan murmured, casting a protective spell around them. She feared the stench might frighten Baobhan Sith.
When the mass was set down at the shore, Shiomi crouched to inspect it—only to catch Morgan's sharp, disapproving glare, as if warning, "If you touch that, don't you dare lay a hand on me for a month."
Shiomi could only give a helpless smile. After all, there wouldn't even be a month left—they would soon be separated by worlds. No reason to hold back now.
"Amazing. So this is the power of the strongest Phantasmal Species? Its vitality surpasses even the remains of Cernunnos. And I can feel… a will to live."
As his fingers brushed the flesh, a soft, half-liquid sensation spread through his palm—so fragile it felt as if his hand might sink straight through. It reminded him of the corrupted Grail's manifestation at the end of the Fourth Holy Grail War.
"My husband, be careful!" Morgan called out in alarm.
But it was already too late. Shiomi also felt it—a pale hand extended from the half-meter mass, gripping his own.
He froze, realizing the hand wasn't something contained within, but rather something formed from the flesh itself.
It was reaching out, yearning for life.
In that instant of contact, his life authority had unintentionally awakened a fragment of Albion's dormant vitality.
"…Is that so? So you too wish to live."
Shiomi tightened his grip on the hand, channeling his authority to awaken it further.
The mass of flesh began to convulse violently. Morgan instinctively shielded Baobhan Sith, expecting it to explode at any moment.
But the anticipated blast never came. Instead, the mass collapsed into a pool of sludge, and from within it, a petite girl seemed to be pulled out by force, tumbling forward onto the lakeshore.
"Who is she…" Morgan stepped closer to examine the prone figure.
The girl lifted her head. Her delicate face looked blankly at Morgan, then at Shiomi, who had somehow stepped back behind her.
"…Who are you…" she asked, her eyes filled with instinctive wariness.
"Queen Morgan. She's the one who awakened you," Shiomi said from behind.
Morgan didn't need to look to know it was a lie. He was taking advantage of the girl's "nestling instinct," trying to make her imprint on Morgan the moment she opened her eyes.
Yet Morgan could tell the girl doubted his words. After staring silently at Shiomi for a moment, she exhaled weakly and collapsed back onto the ground.
"I see… I understand," she murmured softly.
Morgan wanted to tell Shiomi his plan had failed—the girl clearly interpreted his words as "You must serve this woman named Morgan" and accepted them literally.
But if she pointed that out, Shiomi would likely abandon the girl without hesitation.
She sighed quietly instead, hoping this choice wouldn't plant the seeds of future misfortune.
"Do you have a name?" Morgan asked, handing Baobhan Sith over to Shiomi and kneeling beside the girl.
The girl shook her head.
So Morgan and Shiomi each wrote down a name in the dirt, letting her choose between them.
In the end, the girl selected "Melusine," a name Shiomi had taken from French legend.
That choice only deepened Morgan's conviction.
She wanted to tell Shiomi as much, but pity for Melusine held her back. She didn't want to see the girl dismissed as "useless to Morgan" and tossed back into the lake.
Instead, she took out a blanket, wrapped it around Melusine's shoulders, and helped her sit up.
"Aesc… no, Morgan, I've looked around—there's nothing here. Can we head back—whoa!"
Totorot came running over just then. When she noticed Melusine, she froze in surprise.
"Who's this child? So cute… I wonder if she has bridal potential?"
"Maybe she does, maybe she doesn't," Shiomi said with a faint smile. "As a newly reborn life, her future holds infinite possibilities."
"That makes sense," Totorot said thoughtfully.
Shiomi turned away. "We should get going. Time won't wait. Let's finish the last task, Morgan."
"…Alright."
Even knowing this marked the beginning of their separation, Morgan—who had already resolved herself to the path ahead—no longer hesitated.
Together, they carried Albion's left hand, now named Melusine, toward the Fantasy Tree in Orkney.