Fairy Round Table Realm, Poem of Eternal Mist

Sei Shonagon savored the taste: 'This is truly a long-lost taste of home. Mr. Muramasa's cooking is indeed superb.'

Gareth elegantly wiped his lips: 'Truly impeccable. Muramasa, could you perhaps instruct me in my culinary arts sometime? So that the people of the palace may taste this delicacy.'

Praised so highly by the head maid, Senko Muramasa scratched his head sheepishly: "I'm just glad you enjoyed your meal. It's truly an honor for a royal palace head maid to seek advice from an old man like myself."

Ritsuka winked playfully: 'Grandpa's shy!'

"What nonsense are you spouting!" Senji Muramasa said, feigning seriousness. "Eat your food properly and don't talk nonsense!"

Laughter immediately filled the small house.

Though he playfully scolded her, Senji Muramasa felt a warmth welling up inside him. This heartwarming scene reminded him of the times he had shared meals with his dear friends in a distant past. Life then was peaceful and serene, free from war and strife, filled only with daily gatherings and anticipation for tomorrow. He sincerely hoped that this simple happiness could forever protect these young people.

If only things could stay like this forever—

As night deepened, the bright moon peeked out from behind the brown clouds, casting its gentle light upon the woods. And amidst the swaying shadows, an uninvited guest stood silently. Diana, dressed in a leather jacket, crossed her arms and coldly observed the brightly lit cabin. Her pale hair and scarlet eyes gleamed in the night, like a predator lurking in the darkness.

Seckel emerged from the depths of the shadows, his voice low: 'How are things, Diana?'

"That couldn't be better—" Diana leaned lazily against the tree trunk, "You went to all the trouble of sending me all the way to Autumn Forest just to spy on these little girls? Don't ask me for that kind of boring job again."

Seckel chuckled and waved his hand: 'Let's be patient for a while. We're waiting for the right moment—for now, just keep an eye on these arrogant girls. Once that 'big guy' shows up, you can use those tools.'

'This is utterly boring—' Diana sighed, taking two capsules from her pocket and fiddling with them between her fingers. 'Are you sure these little gadgets will actually come in handy?'

"No need to worry." Seckel's gaze drifted to the lit cabin in the distance. "The time will tell. But Diana, don't let your impulsiveness ruin everything this time—"

Side Quest: Eternal Solitude - Fairy Round Table Realm, Poem of Eternal Mist

Fairy Calendar 2981-2007

Nine hundred years slipped by silently in the shimmering light of the Holy Lance. Liliana huddled in a corner of an abandoned farmhouse, her fingertips gently tracing the rough linen cloth that wrapped the Holy Lance. The rough texture of the cloth vaguely reminded her of the day she left the Star Anchor—back then, even gripping this Holy Lance made her palms sweat.

Now, her hands remain slender, but her knuckles are calloused from years of gripping the gun. Her once clear, spring-like emerald eyes now bear the weight of time, like deep pools. Nine hundred years of pilgrimage have etched indelible marks upon her: her once flowing golden hair is now dry and unkempt, draped carelessly over her shoulders; the pristine white robe she brought from Paradise is tattered, replaced by a haphazardly sewn vagrant's outfit made of coarse linen and animal hides. Only her face retains the contours of a young girl—the eternal life of a Paradise fairy has left contradictory marks of time upon her.

"Is it really worth it?" she asked again, her voice sounding particularly weak in the bleak autumn wind.

The only response she received was the clanging sound of swords being drawn.

"Stop with the nonsense! Your head is worth a thousand gold coins!"

"Hand over the Holy Lance, and I'll spare your life!"

Three hideous demons sprang out of the woods, their short axes gleaming coldly.

This scene had been repeated far too many times over the past nine hundred years, so many that even disappointment had become a luxury. Liliana sighed softly, the Holy Lance rotating slightly in her hand. A gentle yet undeniable light burst forth from the tip of the spear, spreading out like ripples. The pursuers were pushed back by the waves of light, yet remained unharmed.

"Let's go." She sheathed the holy lance and turned to leave. It had always been the same—she had never allowed this divine weapon, capable of splitting mountains and shattering rocks, to be stained with even a single drop of fairy blood.

Night fell quickly, and the temperature plummeted below freezing. Liliana huddled in the corner of the dilapidated house on the only remaining intact blanket, shivering with cold. She hugged her arms tightly, gazing at the Holy Lance leaning against the wall, and thought of Betty, who was no longer by her side.

That halfling woman had accompanied her for eight centuries. Though halflings have long lifespans, they ultimately cannot defy the laws of time. Three years ago, one morning, Betty passed away peacefully in her sleep, her hand still tightly clasped in hers, as if to continue guarding her pilgrimage.

Memories flood back like a tide, carrying the warmth of the past.

At the border of the Winged Clan's territory, Monica stood before her people, her tone resolute: "This person has nothing to do with our clan. No one is to associate with her." After the clansmen dispersed dejectedly, the clan chief, under the cover of night, found their hiding place in the cave and secretly slipped them a bag of dried meat. "Only by living can you atone for your sins," she said before hastily departing, her back view resolute.

On the northern plains, the herbalist Raphael was cornered at the edge of a cliff by Moss. The dark monster extended its tentacles, about to drag him into the abyss. At the critical moment, the Holy Lance flashed like a meteor, and Moss vanished with a shriek. Raphael knelt on the ground, not to thank her for saving his life, but staring at her tattered clothes, choking back tears: "Someone like you... shouldn't be in such a sorry state..."

In a Manchester blacksmith's shop, Jonathan and Hernandez were forging a short sword. The firelight illuminated their rugged faces. "The pilgrimage requires a sharp weapon," they said without looking up. The next morning, a carefully wrapped bag lay on the stone steps where they rested. Inside, besides provisions, was a short sword with a six-petaled flower engraved on its scabbard—a symbol of paradise.

"This kind of life... should be coming to an end soon, right?" Liliana murmured to the empty room, her breath slowly dissipating into the air. The Holy Lance seemed to sense her thoughts, radiating a faint warmth through the rough cloth.

Outside the window, the first snow of winter fell silently. She knew that the millennium was approaching, and a new calamity was about to descend. But these glimmers of light scattered throughout the fairy kingdom—five fairies willing to believe in salvation—were like stars in the dark night, silently guarding the seeds of hope.

When the final trial arrives, these seemingly faint starlight may truly illuminate the path to rebirth. Liliana gripped the Holy Lance tightly, feeling the warm power flowing within it, and slowly closed her eyes in the cold night.

As for Jeffrey, he was the latest companion Liliana had taken in during her long pilgrimage. This seemingly frail young man always possessed a peculiar, effeminate quality—he spoke softly, adjusted his clothes with more care than a woman, and when injured, his eyes would well up with tears. Liliana met him at the northern border, where this poor man, exiled from his clan, was being besieged by three Moss, his tattered clothes covered in mud.

'Please... don't come any closer...' Jeffrey's trembling voice was drowned out by Moss's growl. Only when the light of the Holy Lance dispelled the darkness did he dare to open his tightly closed eyes.

Later, Liliana learned that Jeffrey had been permanently banished for accidentally soiling the clan's sacred relics. It was an accident—he tripped over the threshold while wiping the altar, spilling the libation he was carrying onto the relics.

'I really didn't mean to...' Jeffrey would sob every time the topic came up, clutching his clothes. 'But they wouldn't even give me a chance to explain...'

***

As the cold night deepened, Liliana, inside the dilapidated house, suddenly felt a warmth on her shoulder. Opening her eyes, she saw Monica carefully draping a thick cotton-padded coat over her. The chieftain of the Winged Clan looked around the drafty house, his brow furrowed.

'Liliana…' Monica's voice choked with sobs, 'We should be the ones atoning, but instead it's you…'

Liliana wrapped her warm cotton coat tighter around herself, a weary smile on her face: "Don't worry about me. If we're too conspicuous, all these nine hundred years of perseverance will be in vain..." A violent cough interrupted her, "The power of the Holy Lance has almost been gathered... just one last step..."

"Stop talking!" Monica hurriedly cast a healing spell, her palm glowing with a shimmering green light. Looking at the savior before her, whose very breath trembled, her heart clenched. For nine hundred years, this fairy of paradise, who should have been revered by all, had been hunted like prey, constantly on the run. And those willing to stand by her side, including the newly joined Jeffrey, numbered only six.

***

While Liliana recuperated in the dilapidated house, a terrible change was taking place deep within Britain. Around the massive crater in the center of the peninsula, hidden by bushes, the vegetation was withering at an alarming rate. From above, the once lush pit now revealed jagged rocks and purplish-black viscous substance gushing from the ground, polluting the earth like pus. Even more terrifying, this substance was coalescing into a distorted form—cylindrical bodies with blood-red eyes staring out like the gaze of the abyss.

Because the area is sparsely populated, this quietly approaching crisis has gone unnoticed by anyone.

***

Two weeks later, late at night, a familiar presence roused Liliana from her light sleep. The messenger from the Inner Sea of ​​Stars had arrived as promised, his ethereal figure appearing and disappearing in the moonlight.

'With the millennium approaching, how is the fairy repentance progressing?'

Liliana lowered her head awkwardly, her fingers unconsciously twisting the hem of her clothes. The messenger seemed to see through her embarrassment, and his illusory hand gently touched her forehead.

"No need for explanation. I see the wounds all over your body." The messenger's voice suddenly softened. "Liliana, do you ever regret becoming a fairy in Paradise?"

'How could this be!' Liliana looked up abruptly, a long-dormant fire igniting in her eyes. 'I am proud of this identity! This is the responsibility I must bear...'

'Then, it is time.' The messenger's figure gradually faded, and a magical image unfolded in the air. In the image, purplish-black monsters were pouring out of the giant pit, and even more terrifying, a huge black shadow with deer antlers was taking shape above the pit.

'Moss?! This number...' Liliana gasped.

"The wrath of Cornunos is about to descend," the messenger's voice tolled like a distant bell. "The choice is yours, but I know your answer."

Liliana gripped the Holy Lance tightly, the warmth emanating from its shaft seemingly echoing her resolve. 'This thousand-year pilgrimage, wasn't it all for this moment?' Her eyes hardened with unwavering determination. 'With the power of this Holy Lance, I will make all the fairies understand—'

The envoy nodded in satisfaction, his figure disappearing completely into the night. Moonlight streamed through the dilapidated roof, casting a silvery glow on Liliana. She knew that this pilgrimage, which had lasted for a thousand years, was finally about to face its final trial.

A False Existence - Fairy Round Table Realm, Poem of Eternal Mist

Autumn forest

Da Vinci rubbed her sleepy eyes and yawned deeply. She had been working for hours since dinner, deciphering the magic information behind the portrait. Outside the window, night deepened, the cool evening breeze and the incessant chirping of insects creating a symphony of the night. Seeing this, Ritsuka quickly went to help her, asking with concern:

'Da Vinci, how long will it take to fully decipher these materials?'

"It's not that simple." Leonardo da Vinci rubbed his throbbing temples. "To give an analogy, like a USB flash drive commonly used in pan-human history, this seemingly ordinary piece of paper stores an astonishing amount of information. Based on my initial assessment, it completely records the entire experience of the Eternal Queen Liliana from her departure from the Inner Sea of ​​the Stars until her demise."

Senji Muramasa couldn't help but exclaim, "Truly astonishing magical skill! Although I rely on modern methods, I've never seen such exquisite recording techniques before. Da Vinci, who in the Fairy Kingdom do you think could create such a magical medium?"

"On the surface, only Queen Morgan, high on her throne, seems to possess such ability..." Leonardo da Vinci carefully chose his words, "but it's too early to draw conclusions. This Lostbelt is shrouded in mystery; the person behind it all, who could so casually place such crucial information, is far from simple."

Artoria Caster gazed at the faintly glowing pages and murmured, "It seems only a complete analysis of this data can uncover the truth."

"That's right." Leonardo da Vinci nodded in agreement.

-

Meanwhile, beneath a massive maple tree on the outskirts of the camp, Diana, on surveillance duty, suddenly turned around alertly. In the moonlight, the figures of Belial and the fairy knight Tristan silently appeared. Belial's signature glasses reflected an eerie light, and he cut to the chase:

"Thank you for your hard work in monitoring. Are you finding those specially made capsules easy to use?"

Diana frowned in disgust: "You mean those two Heroic Spirit capsules that supposedly have the strongest defense? After fusing them, I was almost devoured by those monsters! Belial, you're not expecting me to thank you, are you?"

"Heh, you really don't know what's good for you." Fairy Knight Tristan chuckled contemptuously. "My Master went to so much trouble to prepare these gifts for you, and this is your attitude? Besides, you were just unlucky to run into Fairy Knight Lancelot and Fairy Knight Mordred!"

These barbed words cut like a knife to Diana's nerves, but she suppressed her anger and retorted: "Easy for you to say. Aren't you fairy knights bound by a rule against attacking each other?"

"Oh dear, isn't this just making excuses for your incompetence?" Fairy Knight Tristan arrogantly raised her chin. "Do I really need to personally instruct you on how to fight?"

'you!'

"Alright, alright, my little princess," Belial interrupted their argument, steering the conversation back to the main topic. The fairy knight Tristan reluctantly turned his face away, stomping his foot angrily. Diana, staring at his haughty demeanor, suppressed the urge to strike.

Beryl produced a strangely shaped belt device and two storage containers of different sizes. The red and black belt had a circular core in the center and a pull ring on each side, exuding an air of mystery. Diana took the device and examined it with suspicion.

'What is this? A toy?'

"It certainly looks like a toy," Belial adjusted his glasses, "but its function is far more practical than a toy. This is a specially designed Riser that allows you to more stably fuse with Servant power, even elevating your strength to a higher level—much more efficient than your current direct transformation. It can also materialize the Servant power within the capsule into a Shadow Servant... In short, it has many uses." He explained the usage in detail, "After inserting the capsule into the storage container, it locks into the back of the Riser. Pulling the rings on both sides completes the transformation."

Diana carefully examined the sublimator in her hand, a satisfied smile gradually spreading across her lips: 'Very convenient. But this power…'

“Isn’t it obvious?” Belial smiled meaningfully. “You can test it on those guys now; they’re all holed up in that little hut anyway. Oh, and little princess, give her those six special capsules.”

"Okay—okay—here you go—" The fairy knight Tristan reluctantly handed over a red square box.

Even before touching it, Diana could feel the intense magical energy emanating from the box. Curious, she opened the lid, revealing six unique magical capsules neatly arranged inside. These capsules shimmered with an unusually powerful magical glow, their contained power astonishing. Examining the portraits engraved on the capsules, Diana asked curiously:

'Who are these six? I remember the two men, one black and one white, should be Indian-type Heroic Spirits, right? I saw related information in the archives before.'

“That’s right, including the red-haired boy in the middle, they all come from the Indian epic *Mahabharata*, great heroes comparable to the gods,” Belial explained. “These powers can perfectly compensate for your current shortcomings.”

"Wait, such immense power... can I really control it?" Diana cautiously asked. "Won't it cause a magical backlash?"

Belial adjusted his glasses, a glint of shrewdness flashing behind the lenses: "Don't worry, all of this is to help me perfect the experiments on the Ultimate Capsules. After all, the price you paid for fighting those two fairy knights last time can't be wasted." He solemnly reminded him, "Remember, unless absolutely necessary, don't use these six capsules lightly. Their magic is extremely unstable; they'll shatter after just one use. As for how to use them specifically... that's up to your own judgment. You'd better think carefully before trying to stop that girl."

As soon as he finished speaking, Belial and the fairy knight Tristan vanished into the darkness of Autumn Forest using a magic circle. Diana stroked the Rising Device in her hand, a long-lost ferocious smile appearing on her face.

'Yes, it's time to show those insects true power.' she murmured, her knuckles white from clenching her fists. 'This is all for that plan... let me make good use of these gifts!'

The moment she finished speaking, Diana's fingers were already holding the capsule engraved with the dancer's figure. With a deft push of her thumb, she flipped the switch, and a pale blue light, like sparks flying, tore a glaring crack in the thick autumn night.

Galatea—

Before the crisp sound of the capsule fitting into the storage slot had even faded, her other hand had already pulled out a second capsule. A vibrant emerald light burst forth, intertwining with blue light to form a strange vortex.

Achilles—

A two-tone light surged between her fingers. She deftly fastened the buzzing storage device to the back of her belt, and the moment her hands gripped the pull ring, her entire body trembled slightly from the surging energy.

【FusionRi color! 】

The pull ring slid open with a click. A beam of blue and green light shot into the sky, and Diana's bones cracked in the intense light. Galatea's pure white silhouette and Achilles' emerald phantom solidified on either side of her, then twisted and merged as if torn apart by an invisible force, finally transforming into a stream of light that poured into her body.

'It's time to settle everything!' she roared, pressing the ascender to her chest, the sound of the armor closing like a war drum. 'Hah!'