"Father, are you going out to farm again?"
"Yes. Just yesterday the village's fairies cast magic to make the land fertile. We'd best hurry and
plant the seeds!"
"That's wonderful—Grandma was right, the fairies in our village are all very kind."
"But there are also wicked fairies. I heard the neighboring village already lost two children, said to
have been taken away by fairies at night. The knights left behind in the kingdom are investigating this matter... In any case, be careful even if you stay home."
"Don't worry, Father!"
The morning sun slanted down over the seemingly peaceful farmlands and village. Among the wooden houses, a farmer in rough linen clothes shouldered his hoe and bid farewell to his family. Though the scene appeared ordinary, the words spoken within it were anything but normal.
Though fairies had not yet vanished from the lands of Britain, ever since Vortigern's death and the accelerated upheaval of the island's environment, their numbers had dwindled sharply. Where once one might accidentally stumble upon them late at night or in deserted places, now they were scarcely seen at all.
Let alone like this—fairies and humans mingling together?
The silver-haired magus of nightmares halted in the fields, gazing intently at the sight before him. He saw the villagers farming, he saw the fairies of all shapes and sizes wandering among the countryside and plants, and he saw the once-barren land—where no crops had ever been able to grow—revive with budding life under the "magecraft" of the fairies. This scene had not existed even yesterday, nor had it before "Subutai Equinus" returned the severed timeline back into the world.
Barren land—that had been the norm.Surviving only on relief grain—that had been the reality.Otherwise, the "King" would never have launched expeditions simply to avoid starving at home—
And yet now, this coexistence of humans and fairies was something even the Age of Gods had rarely witnessed.
Now, however, the people seemed to take it for granted, as though it had always been this way.
When the timeline returned to its rightful place, those two years and two days became like a stone set in the river's upper stream—its fragments constantly washing downstream. Silent, unseen, yet undeniably real.
"To nourish the 'seed' buried within those two years, ten-odd years ago, with the energy of an entire continent...""This truly is… a spectacular sight."
Merlin, emerging from the Fairy Realm, could not help but marvel.
Even a nightmare magus who preferred to watch from the sidelines found himself tempted to intervene in this.This scale of "arrangement."This level of design.Even in his long life, he had rarely witnessed the like.
Merlin stepped forward slowly, meeting the gaze of a fairy who approached him head-on.
The illusory nightmare seemed to step into reality itself.
"'King'... the council is about to begin."
Before battle came the "strategic war council."
Within the military tent, lit by campfires, golden hair tied up, clad in a blue battle-dress covered by silver armor, and over it a heavy deep-blue cloak—the "King of Knights," Artoria Pendragon, slowly opened her eyes. She gazed at the silver-haired knight bowing before the tent: Bedivere.
"Is everyone here?" she asked."Yes," Bedivere bowed his head. "The twelve Knights of the Round Table. The seven allied Hun chieftains. And...""And...?""The six fairy 'dukes,' all waiting in the command tent."
"Fairy 'dukes'?"
At that last phrase, Artoria could not help but pause. Fourteen Round Table Knights needed no explanation—three hundred knights in all surrounded the great round table, but only fourteen formed its core. Excluding the sage Merlin, Subutai the grand duke stationed in the kingdom, and Mordred, officially Subutai's assistant but in truth the regent, only twelve had joined the expedition.
The seven Hun chieftains had been voluntary allies gathered during the campaign—drawn by the name of the "Hun Emperor."
But these "fairy dukes"—what was that about...?
Artoria did not recall any fairies being part of her host...
"No... something is wrong."
As she sat upright, her brows knit together. Two distinct memories intermingled in her mind, yet remained strangely clear and separate.
One was normal: her childhood training, the lessons in dreams from Merlin and Subutai, drawing the sword after the former king's death, becoming king, slaying Vortigern, and marching to war.
The other began with the death of King Uther: Morgan le Fay and Subutai together slaying Vortigern, Morgan ruling Camelot for two years as "queen" before yielding the throne to her, then Subutai summoning fairies, and finally herself slaying Vortigern once more after his revival.
It was as though two timelines had fused in this instant.
If not for Artoria's sharp instincts, she might never have noticed the strangeness.
No—this was completely wrong!
"Teacher... Su-qing must be behind this!"
Artoria leapt to her feet. "Bedivere, cancel the war council. The army will immediately return—back to Britain, back to Camelot!"
Bedivere froze, then, seeing the deep certainty in his king's eyes, nodded."Yes, my king!"
Rumble—
At the same time, deep within the Fairy Realm—so deep that even Merlin, half a nightmare himself, could not easily touch it—lay "Avalon," the Celtic ideal land.
The place where the true forms of the holy sword and holy lance were kept.
Morgan le Fay, silver-haired, gazed at the changes in the outside world.
Beside her stood two unmistakable fairies—Baobhan Sith and Barghest.
"Father really does act on the grandest of scales!" Baobhan Sith remarked. "Toying with all of humanity in the palm of his hand...""To challenge fate's desperate dead end—my lord truly is the purest of knights!" Though a fairy, Barghest was clearly deeply influenced by knightly ideals."The only shame is how exhausting it all is!" the red-haired fairy added.
They, too, had played their part. Opening the "mouth" of the Fairy Realm to store the timeline, then opening it again to release it.
And more besides—
"Su designed it so that Artoria would carry the holy lance out of Britain."
Only with the lance removed from Britain could the timeline be merged so easily. And only Artoria herself could bear the true holy lance away.
"You are not merely a knight," Morgan murmured."You are also a magus who weaves miracles."
She gave a quiet laugh.
And as Baobhan Sith and Barghest once again fell into their quarrels, Morgan's silver-haired figure abruptly vanished.
As husband and wife, Morgan had been part of the plan from the start. She could not simply watch it unfold. She, too, would strike at the most opportune moment.
Morgan le Fay had never accepted the "future" she had once seen—the collapse of Camelot!
"This time... this really will be a catastrophe..."
The Counter Force's attention had been scattered.The summoning of Guardians diluted.The seven "Servants"—their Spirit Origins, the foundation of their materialized souls—grew weaker.
Yet the changes to the world only grew stronger.Alaya's instinct to correct history and protect human order became even more forceful.
Within Camelot's royal palace, the seven Guardians' forms began to blur.
At their head, "Emiya" scratched his hair. "Looks like this is where our role ends."The Counter Force had no intention of sustaining them.
"To stand as a savior who overturns an age... what a figure!" Amakusa Shirou Tokisada's face was filled with admiration. The white-haired "youth" gazed steadily at the tall man before him, unable to suppress his respect after realizing what he had accomplished.
He had once been the "sage" of the Far East—yet a failed one.He had once raised the banner of rebellion for the suffering farmers—yet his cause ended in failure.
But the man before him had done something similar—only on a far deeper scale.
Thus Amakusa could not help but declare:"In later ages, I will see for myself how far you can truly go!"
"I couldn't unleash a true hound's pursuit, but seeing this is no poor substitute!" Cú Chulainn said."Such is fate," muttered Hassan of the Cursed Arm.
One word after another—
The seven "shadows" vanished.
Only one final sentence echoed in the air—spoken by the modern Guardian known as "Emiya":
"Alaya will not stop here.""Next, you will face... an even stronger Guardian."
Through it all, Lucan lowered his eyes calmly. He knew exactly what awaited him. He was prepared.
"After all," he said,"I am, at my core, still a magus."
Not a knight who charges at impossible foes with only courage, tilting at windmills.But a magus who weaves heaven, earth, and mankind into designs, forging miracles through arrangements.
Yet now that miracle was complete.
What awaited him was the test of whether that miracle could endure—The "dead end" a knight must face.
And through it, the crystallization of his own knightly spirit.
"This is what I need—the last piece to refine my 'Crown of Wulian'!"
Within the divine thought, inside the circuit of his mind, the "crown" formed from his Armory of Wulian already shone brightly, ready to manifest.
Just one step more.Just a little further.
He had gathered the commandments of many knights.And at the end, only one remained—his own, yet unclaimed.
It was only natural.
"So come, strongest Guardian of humanity—"
As the seven Guardians' phantoms faded, the scattered light did not vanish. Instead it swirled in the air, gathering in a single direction within the hall.
The seven Spirit Origins fused into one—condensing, solidifying.
Forming at last a new figure—the strongest Guardian of all.
"Caster—Solomon.""Answering the world's summons."
The man with long, pale, disheveled hair slowly opened his eyes.
The ten rings upon his fingers shone with dazzling brilliance