A few days later, the annoying menstrual period was completely over, and her body regained its usual lightness and vitality. Artoria felt as if she had experienced a small internal storm; now the rain had cleared, and every cell felt refreshed. Morning exercises, research, and tending to the new herb sprouts on the terrace—life had returned to its familiar, tranquil track. Minerva's care had also returned to its daily mode, but that meticulous attention had never changed.
That afternoon, the sky was clear, and the sea breeze was gentle. Artoria and Minerva were on the terrace, thinning out the herb seedlings that had just broken through the soil and appeared tender and fragile. Artoria held a pair of small tweezers, carefully separating the overcrowded mint seedlings, while Minerva used her fingertips to precisely control a fine mist of water, replenishing moisture to the roots of the newly transplanted seedlings. The sunlight was warm but not scorching, and the air was filled with the fresh scent of sea salt, soil, and plant shoots.
"This basil is growing well," Artoria said, looking satisfied at a small, unfurled round leaf, "In a few more weeks, it should be ready to pick for pesto."
"According to growth model predictions, the first batch of basil and mint will be ready for harvest in about 23 days. Thyme and rosemary grow slower and will need about 35 days," Minerva's voice mixed with the rustling sound of the mist. "Do you need me to pre-select suitable pesto recipes?"
"Sure, I'd like the kind..." Artoria's voice trailed off abruptly.
It wasn't a danger warning, nor was it Artoria's instinct screaming. It was a... subtle, indescribable "presence," like a completely transparent but weighted pebble being tossed into a calm lake, ripples spreading silently, which only the keenest perception could capture.
She stopped what she was doing, slowly straightened up, and cast her gaze over the wooden railing of the terrace toward the empty lawn in front of the cabin.
Minerva's movements stopped almost simultaneously, and the mist shut off instantly. She took a silent half-step forward, standing in a protective stance in front of Artoria, her optical sensors instantly switching to maximum alert mode for omnidirectional scanning. However, in her sensor feedback, the lawn was empty; there were no heat sources, no physical images, and no abnormal energy readings. Yet, her logic core and her deep connection with Artoria both told her—something had just arrived there.
The next moment, ripples appeared in the air.
Not water ripples, but space itself. It was as if someone had used invisible fingers to gently smear the surface of the oil painting that was reality, causing the paint to flow and rotate on its own, outlining a circular "door" with golden sparks dancing at its edges. On the other side of the door was not any known room or landscape, but a twisted, rotating, kaleidoscope-like cosmic starry sky and geometric shapes, bizarre and filled with a strange, non-Euclidean feel.
A portal. And it was a completely different type from the space jump gates provided by the system or Aerith's Flower of Life passage. It was more... ancient, more mysterious, carrying an indescribable scent that mixed order and chaos, time and space.
A figure stepped out from the door.
The person was wearing a simple, heavy orange hooded robe with wide sleeves. Under the hood was a smooth, ageless female face with deep, peaceful features. Most striking were those eyes—calm as an ancient well, yet seemingly containing infinite wisdom and vicissitudes, capable of reflecting the birth and death of stars. Her hands hung naturally at her sides, and her posture was composed, as if she had just walked in from the next room. As she fully stepped onto the lawn, the portal behind her quickly shrank, turning into a speck of golden light that vanished silently.
She stood there, looking calmly at Artoria and Minerva on the terrace. There was no hostility, no pressure, only an unfathomable tranquility and a... knowing awareness of everything.
The Ancient One. The Sorcerer Supreme.
Artoria's heart skipped a beat. She hadn't expected to meet this Guardian of Earth so soon, and in this way. Was it because of the massive life magic fluctuation when Aerith's form unleashed the "Great Gospel"? Or was it her own nature as Saber's human vessel, whose soul essence had resonated implicitly with the "mystical" side of this World, ultimately attracting the gaze of this Guardian?
Minerva's body tensed to the limit instantly; she bent her knees slightly, lowered her center of gravity, and a faint glimmer of high-frequency energy condensed at her fingertips—the sign that she had entered her highest combat readiness state. The woman who had suddenly appeared before them brought an unprecedented pressure for threat assessment. The opponent's form of existence completely exceeded the scope of her conventional databases; she appeared to have no physical defenses or energy shields, but under Minerva's multi-scans, the opponent was like a void abyss, swallowing all probes, and yet also like an immovable mountain, containing immeasurable power.
"Minerva, relax," Artoria said softly, placing a hand gently on Minerva's tensed arm. She could feel the power coiled beneath Minerva's bionic muscles. "She means no harm." This was intuition, and also based on her knowledge of the Ancient One as a character. If the Ancient One had malicious intent, they probably wouldn't even have had a chance to react.
Minerva's body did not relax, but the glimmer at her fingertips dimmed. She maintained that protective stance, her optical sensors "staring" fixedly at the Ancient One like the most precise locking system.
The Ancient One's gaze lingered on Minerva for a moment; a faint glimmer, similar to "amusement," seemed to flash in those ancient-well-like eyes before she turned to Artoria. She nodded slightly, her voice peaceful and soothing, carrying a strange rhythm as if it could directly enter the soul.
"Good afternoon. An uninvited visitor might be considered somewhat rude. But I sensed the warm and powerful radiance of life blooming here, as well as a... resilient and ancient Guardian soul. I couldn't help but come to visit. I am the Ancient One, Guardian of Kamar-Taj."
She had indeed come for the power of "Aerith" and her own essence as Saber. Artoria took a deep breath, suppressing the waves in her heart, and tried to make her voice sound calm. "Good afternoon, Master Ancient One. I am Artoria, and this is Minerva, my family. Please, come in." She stepped aside, gesturing toward the house.
"Thank you." The Ancient One nodded again and walked steadily toward the cabin. Her footsteps were very light, making almost no sound on the grass. The simple robe contrasted strangely with the modern seaside cabin environment, yet it was also strangely harmonious.
Entering the living room, the Ancient One's gaze swept naturally over the simple and cozy layout, lingering briefly on the abstract painting on the wall, the books on the shelves, and the vibrant green plants on the windowsill, before finally falling back on Artoria. "A peaceful dwelling, containing resilient vitality and a warm will to protect. Very good."
Artoria invited her to sit on the sofa and sat opposite her. Minerva did not sit; she stood behind Artoria's sofa like a silent statue, in a position where she could monitor the Ancient One and all entrances and exits simultaneously, the light from her optical sensors stable and cold.
"Tea? Or coffee?" Artoria asked, trying her best to maintain the etiquette of a host.
"Plain tea is fine, thank you," the Ancient One smiled.
Artoria looked at Minerva, who nodded almost imperceptibly and turned toward the kitchen. Her movements remained efficient, but she allocated a portion of her processing threads to constantly monitor the activity in the living room.
Soon, Minerva returned with a tray holding three cups of clear tea. The teacups were simple white porcelain, the tea clear, with steam curling up. She placed one cup in front of the Ancient One, one in front of Artoria, and her own on a small side table, clearly not intending to drink it.
"A very exquisite creation," the Ancient One said, not touching the teacup but looking at Minerva, her gaze seemingly able to pierce through the layer of bionic skin and titanium alloy skeleton to look directly at her core. "Not naturally conceived by the laws of this World, yet possessing such a clear will to protect and... a 'heart' that is budding. A miracle."
The light of Minerva's optical sensors flickered slightly, but she did not respond. To her, the other party's evaluation was irrelevant; she only assessed threats.
The Ancient One smiled, said no more, and turned to Artoria. "A few days ago, in the direction of Long Island, New York, a powerful, pure, and joyful magic fluctuation burst forth. It soothed wounds, purified filth, and even vaguely touched upon healing at the soul level. That was not any branch of magic inherited by Kamar-Taj, nor was it the twisted power of the Dark Dimension, nor was it the operation mode of those known energy systems in the Universe. It was warm, bright, and full of the deepest blessings for life itself. This aroused my curiosity."
She picked up the teacup, gently sniffed the tea's aroma, and took a sip. "Later, I saw the interesting press conference of that 'Iron Man' and heard the story of 'magic Girl Aerith'. A very interesting term; using the word 'magic' to summarize it, while simple, is also apt. And when I cast my gaze here," she put down the teacup and looked at Artoria with clear eyes, "I see not just a girl who has mastered special healing techniques. I see a shining, unyielding Knight's soul, a Holy Sword hidden in its scabbard, yet ready to be drawn for protection at any moment. A very peculiar combination, a combination that transcends Worlds and concepts."
She had indeed seen through it. Not only had she seen through the residual power of the "Aerith" form, but she had also directly seen through the traits belonging to Saber deep within Artoria's soul. In the eyes of the Sorcerer Supreme, many disguises were likely futile.
"Then, is Master Ancient One visiting today to confirm whether this 'peculiar combination' of mine poses a threat to Earth?" Artoria asked directly, her tone neither humble nor overbearing.
"A threat?" The Ancient One shook her head slightly, her smile gentle. "No, child. What I see is protection. Your healing of Mr. Stark is protection. The bond between you and this... Minerva," she glanced at Minerva, "...is protection. You chose to live here, leading a peaceful life; its core is still the protection of this peace and beauty. The will to protect, no matter what form it takes, is always worthy of respect."
She changed the subject, her tone still peaceful but with a hint of depth: "However, power itself, no matter how good its original intention, can sometimes bring unpredictable consequences if not accompanied by corresponding awareness and control. The 'magic' you use is very special; it has subtle interactions with the magic system of this World and the energy flows of the Multiverse. I am not here to question or constrain you, but as a practitioner who also protects this World, I came to say hello, and... to provide a perspective for observation."
Artoria was silent for a moment. The Ancient One's words were very polite, but the meaning was clear: she had noticed this newly emerged power from outside the system, came to contact and observe, and implicitly reminded Artoria to be mindful of the impact of her power. This was very much in line with the Ancient One's style.
"Thank you for your understanding, Master Ancient One," Artoria said sincerely. "I do not intend to disrupt anything; I only do what I believe should be done. I will be cautious with my power."
"I believe you will," the Ancient One nodded, her gaze lingering on Artoria's face for a moment, and in those all-seeing eyes, she seemed to see something deeper. She suddenly sighed softly, a sigh that carried a trace of almost imperceptible exhaustion from experiencing a long stretch of time.
"Your tea has gone cold," Minerva suddenly spoke, her voice calm and waveless, but the meaning was clear.
The Ancient One seemed to snap out of some train of thought and smiled at Minerva: "It matters not." But she did not touch the teacup, instead looking at Artoria again. This time, her gaze became even deeper, as if piercing through flesh and blood to look directly at the true color of the soul.
"Child, the light of your soul is very special. Resilient, clear, and containing the potential for healing and protection. This is very good," she said slowly, her fingers tapping unconsciously on her knees, a habitual gesture when she was thinking. "Perhaps it is this very trait that allows you to Master that warm life magic. However, in you at this moment, I also see a trace of... an uncoordinated Shadow. Not from yourself, but..."
She paused, as if searching for more accurate words, and finally shook her head: "Perhaps I am overthinking. A long life can sometimes make one's perception too keen."
But Artoria's heart skipped a beat. Could the "Shadow" the Ancient One spoke of refer to those "Projection" powers from different Worlds within her? Or did it refer to the existence of the system itself? Or perhaps, had she seen the last trace of the gap between her transmigrator soul and this body that had not yet fully healed?
"Master Ancient One," Artoria hesitated for a moment, then decided to ask—this was also a thought that had vaguely emerged in her mind when she first saw the Ancient One. "You just mentioned 'long life'... please forgive my presumption, but may I perceive that beneath your power and wisdom, which are as vast as the starry sky, there also seems to exist some kind of... 'wear and tear'? Not of the body, but more like the 'exhaustion' and'stagnation' produced by the intertwining of the soul with some ancient energy over the years?"
As soon as these words were spoken, the living room suddenly fell silent.
Minerva's optical sensors locked onto Artoria, seemingly quickly analyzing the motivation and risk behind her words.
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