[Because Redra cannot cross the river directly, you part ways for now—Redra will attempt to bypass Tears River upstream, heading for Norwich.]
[You press on, defeating several more bands of beasts along the way.]
[In Queen's Calendar March 2018, you arrive at Norwich.]
[You conduct an initial survey of Norwich.]
Each time Guinevere had come here before, she led an army—but this time, arriving as a mere traveler, she found a wholly different scene:
Human soldiers strolled in to ask the ancient earth‐clan blacksmith if their armor was ready. When he handed it back, he kindly suggested they visit the armor shop to upgrade their set. A fang‐clan fairy who'd only just arrived looked surprised when a human clerk handed them a signature dish—only to learn it was free disaster‐relief rations from the merchant street. A portly human shopkeeper railed at his slacking fairy assistant, cursing that during Calamity his store would be razed—but he still waited expectantly for the next customer…
Even though dark clouds blanketed the sky and the streets were damp and shadowed, the city throbbed with vibrant life.
Oberon, naturally, attracted attention as soon as he entered. An earth‐clan fairy called out to him:
"I was wondering which fairy looked so familiar—and there you are, Oberon!"
"What brings you to Norwich? Look at the sky already turning like that."
Oberon merely smiled and replied, "Oh? Just some rain clouds gathering overhead—the rainy season isn't over yet."
"But even so, Norwich is as bustling as ever, isn't it?"
"As an actor," he added lightly, "when you hear of a once‐in‐a‐lifetime festival, you simply must attend."
"Norwich is the celebration venue of the century, after all. Naturally, the Fairy King must come too."
Though these remarks sounded casual, Oberon's wit shone through in every line.
"Haha—quite right, Oberon!" the earth‐clan fairy laughed. "We're just a band of lowly smiths in this rule‐breaking city of Norwich."
"Compared to those lofty edicts from above, mere 'Calamity Accumulations' mean nothing!"
"Thanks, Oberon—come by my forge later; my wife's a huge fan of yours!"
With that, the fairy strode off.
"No wonder you're so popular wherever you go," Guinevere remarked, standing beside Oberon.
"Nonsense; when it comes to… fanfare, you outshine me by a hundredfold," Oberon replied with a grin, patting her shoulder.
"Especially in matters of… admirers," he added with a wink.
Guinevere opened her mouth to protest—but Artoria had already drifted over, peering curiously. "What are you two talking about so earnestly?"
"Just some lore about Norwich's history," Oberon said. "Would you and Gareth care to listen?"
"Sure," Guinevere encouraged. "Professor Oberon's pop‐up lecture is about to begin."
Oberon nodded and began:
"Norwich is the Fairy Realm's only port city. After the Queen's Calendar took effect, a law forbade forging any new weapons. For nearly 1,900 years, no iron weapons were produced."
"To fairies, iron arms are ominous—deadly even. But a century ago, Spriggan petitioned Morgan to lift the ban, and Norwich quickly flourished."
"Afterward, incidents of fairy‐slaying—no, fairy‐on‐fairy murders—rose sharply. The ban existed precisely to prevent this, but political unrest in the North, the spread of Morse's curse, and the growing need for iron weapons made lifting it inevitable. Besides, processing iron ore was vital to civilization's advance."
Guinevere nodded thoughtfully. No wonder fairy armaments stagnated—without iron, they never advanced beyond rudimentary gear.
Perhaps introducing later human weaponry could tip the scales?
Oberon continued: "Once Spriggan's counsel was adopted, Norwich stopped being 'the fairies' city' and became 'the city of the smiths' code.' Salisbury merely allowed human towns under Fairy Law; Norwich enforces 'artisan rules, equality for all.'"
"So," Guinevere summarized, "some fairies still treat humans as slaves, others hire them as master craftsmen, and some are exploited by unscrupulous merchants."
"Like any human city: clean main streets, filthy back alleys. Spriggan seems intent on making Norwich a human‐style city."
Gareth asked hesitantly, "Is that why the storm clouds—the Calamity Accumulation—appeared? Because Norwich is… a 'bad' city?"
Oberon shook his head. "No—any city has its light and shadow; the clouds are coincidental."
He leaned in. "But for our next move, I propose we approach Lord Spriggan. Thoughts?"
"Why him?" Artoria frowned. "Isn't he known for ignoring his subjects' welfare?"
"Ha! He'd rather his people perish," Oberon revealed. "He began selling land just before those clouds gathered. Smiths used to rent their plots; he sold them outright. Fairies spent their fortunes to own land… and then the skies darkened."
"Once a fairy owns land, they cling to their purpose—work itself defines them. Lose it, and they lose their names, just like Morse's curse. When Calamity strikes, only Spriggan's secret Vault City remains intact, letting him reclaim every plot he sold."
"He even set exorbitant inheritance taxes on the next generation—taxes no new fairy can pay—so he'll regain free rein to redevelop Norwich. The prophecy spoke of Calamity at the 'City of Iron and Coal'—his scheme yields two wins: land sales first, then vault profit."
Artoria and Gareth gasped.
"So vicious—a fairy that cruel?" Artoria shuddered.
Guinevere cracked a dangerous grin. I was overworked to death, then transmigrated here…
"I have a bold idea," she announced. "Hear me out?"
Oberon leaned forward. "Go on."
"Spriggan fears Calamity; he's recruiting strong defenders. Remember our sim where we could hole up in his vault? The system hinted he'd gladly trade with us."
"If we ally with Spriggan, he'll welcome us into his vault defenses. We ask him to toll the Bell of Destiny, drawing Calamity here. When it strikes, we sabotage the vault gates—his 'impregnable' fortress will fail. He'll have no choice but to deploy his troops against Calamity."
"We split tasks: Artoria and I distract Spriggan; Oberon and Gareth evacuate the populace… and more."
Oberon's eyes gleamed. "Brilliant! Evil must be fought with cunning—kudos to you, Guinevere."
Artoria hesitated. "But working with that miser—I'm not sure I can bluff past him."
Oberon leaned in. "He's filthy rich. To pay the Prophetic Child, he'd throw gold your way."
Artoria's eyes brightened. "For Britain's salvation, I'll do it!"
[At your proposal, you contact Lord Spriggan of Norwich.]
[He's wary until he witnesses your swordsmanship—then he's convinced.]
[You begin bargaining to save Norwich and dispel Calamity.]
[As expected, Spriggan agrees—and at Artoria's behest, proclaims "The Prophetic Child has arrived!" to the populace. Yet he schemes to confine you in the vault under the guise of protection.]
[You feign keen interest in his wealth.]
[Per your plan, Oberon and Gareth "discover" Spriggan's plot to trap you and try to warn Artoria—Spriggan overhears.]
[He offers you a large sum to persuade Artoria to stay in the vault.]
[You accept—but demand 100 million mo‐pounds.]
[Though pained, Spriggan concedes.]
[You sow division, convincing Artoria that Oberon and Gareth are slandering Spriggan; they're expelled from both the party and the vault.]
[Spriggan pays half now, promising the rest after Calamity passes.]
[Sensing deceit, you erupt in fury and quarrel; Artoria intervenes, and Spriggan relents—he'll pay in full if you keep persuading her.]
[You then demand an extra 50 million mo‐pounds.]
[Spriggan grits his teeth and agrees.]
[By meeting hidden conditions, the Calamity Accumulation over Norwich accelerates to critical mass.]
[Calamity will strike immediately—a scripted event. Prepare yourselves!]