Fairy Round Table Realm, Poem of Eternal Mist

'The third chime...' Morgan touched the ruby ​​on her chest, her increasingly translucent fingertips reflected in the mirror. 'It seems my time is running out more than I anticipated.'

Artoria suddenly pressed her hand to her pounding chest. The aftershocks of the pilgrimage bells mingled with the cries and cheers of countless fairies. She looked back; where Lipkanl had stood, only scattered blood-red dust remained, as if the cunning chieftain had never existed. Only the newly appeared cracks on the bronze bells silently recorded yet another meticulously laid death trap in this pilgrimage that began with betrayal.

Mountain of Corpses - Fairy Round Table Domain, Poem of Eternal Mist

In the ruins of Ensos, Northern Ireland, Ritsuka leaned against a withered tree, coughing violently, each breath laced with blood. Sei Shonagon wiped the blood from her forehead with his tear-stained sleeve, his fingertips trembling as he touched the deep, bone-revealing wounds—the recent deadly battle with Merlin had cost his Master dearly.

'Why do you always have to be so stubborn...' Sei Shonagon's sobs were carried away by the wind. 'We promised to return to Chaldea safely together...'

Ritsuka struggled to raise her hand and wipe away the tears on her friend's cheek. The backlash from the fusion capsule was still gnawing at her nerves, and the lingering crimson in her vision reminded her of the last moment when Brunhilde's Noble Phantasm burned out. At that moment, Valkyrie's wings shattered behind her, Merlin's illusion coiled around her neck like a venomous snake, and she heard the crisp sound of her sternum breaking before her consciousness faded.

'Nuozi…' She tried to force a smile, but the movement aggravated the piercing wound between her ribs. 'Look… I can still feel pain… which means I'm still alive…'

Sei Shonagon suddenly grabbed her icy hand, and the emotions frozen in the midst of the demon slaughter finally burst forth: 'Enough! I...don't want to watch anyone important disappear before my eyes anymore...'

'Kalia and Machia...' Ritsuka suddenly sat up, the excruciating pain making her vision blur. 'What exactly is Ensos City...?'

At this moment, atop the moss-covered clock tower, nestled a pristine room that stood out starkly against the surrounding ruins. Maquia was gently laying the unconscious Iria on a low bed covered with linen sheets, her bloodstained fingers touching the child's cheek with an uncanny tenderness. The crimson murderous intent that had once lingered in her eyes had faded, replaced by the clear, motherly gaze reflected in her pupils, illuminated by the kerosene lamplight.

'Though the replica of the Eternal Lamp is broken, the true relic still operates somewhere.' Kalia lightly touched the glowing moss on the wall; the glimmers of light flowed along a specific path towards the bed. 'Machia is using her last strength to maintain this sanctuary...'

As if in response to her whisper, Iria's eyelashes suddenly trembled. The child unconsciously clutched the hem of his mother's faded dress, murmuring a nursery rhyme that had been left unfinished nine hundred years ago. Machia bent down and pressed her forehead against the child's palm, a gesture that reminded Kalia of the murals she had seen in the Temple of Time—the Mother Goddess who had lost everything, ultimately transforming into an obsession with guarding the ruins.

Suddenly, Sei Shonagon's startled cry rang out from outside the window. Ritsuka staggered in, leaning against the wall, her blood-stained uniform trailing a serpentine path. When she saw the mother and child reunited in the room, she saw countless overlapping phantoms in a daze: young Maquia clutching a blood-stained doll, the Iorph girl reaching out her hand from the sea of ​​fire, and the fairy knight swearing an oath before Morgan's throne...

'The lamp oil is running out.' Maquia suddenly looked up; Aria in her arms was gradually becoming transparent. 'We need a true eternal lamp...'

Caria's sword hilt suddenly hummed, and the ley lines beneath their feet rippled abnormally. Far away in Salisbury, Aurora opened her eyes; her crystal ball reflected the gradually gathering thunderclouds above Ensos. Meanwhile, Ritsuka leaned against the doorframe, panting, watching Machia pour her last magical energy into the child's fading form—the way those rising particles of light resembled the starlight of Chaldea's Throne of Heroes returning.

Kalia gazed at Machia's profile by the window, her silver hair cascading down like melting moonlight. 'Will she remain in these ruins forever?'

Maquia's fingertips traced the dried bloodstains on the windowpane. 'My battlefield is gone.' Her old robes billowed as she turned. 'Please apologize to His Majesty for me... tell him that the woman she retrieved from the corpses ultimately failed to live up to the title of Fairy Knight.'

As Kalia stepped out of the moss-covered archway and looked back one last time, he saw Machia placing her son's faded doll into a moss-covered cradle. The last survivors of the Ioruf tribe were undergoing some kind of assimilation with this cursed city, and the vines that entwined the beams and pillars quietly blossomed into pale flowers.

Beneath a withered tree outside the city, the orange-haired girl's injuries caused Kalia to catch her breath. She knelt down and gently touched the scab forming on Ritsuka's cheek. 'If only I had seen through Merlin's illusion sooner...'

'No one expected him to show up so suddenly.' Ritsuka grasped her trembling hand, her orange eyes reflecting the shattered sky. 'But you, the burn marks on your back from the magic are still bleeding.'

Sei Shonagon suddenly interrupted them: 'It's time to set off.' Her knuckles turned white as she gripped the hem of her dress. 'The rendezvous point in Gloucester...' Her unfinished words dissipated in the wind. Kalia noticed that this usually lively kasaya had become unusually silent since the end of the battle—when Sei Shonagon's flesh and blood dissolved in the flood of her Noble Phantasm, she even showed an expression of near relief as she looked at the rain of blood.

'The greatest calamity of this world...' Kalia murmured, repeating Sekel's dying words. That name caused Ritsuka to cough violently. From the depths of the distant thunderclouds came a rumbling sound like a beating heart, as if an unseen behemoth was stirring within the star's inner sea.

Minutes earlier, while Kalia was communicating with the Queen on the other side of the crystal ball beneath the ruined arches of Ensos, the incense in Morgan's throne room was turning into a twisted serpent.

'A human body enduring seven minutes of divine fusion?' Morgan tapped his fingertips on the armrest of the throne, the gilded armor and crystal ball clanging together. 'But what's more concerning are Sekel's dying words.'

Kalia's image trembled slightly within the magical ripples: 'Your Majesty believes this is related to the seal of Kornunos?'

'Let's wait and see...' Morgan suddenly stood up, his royal robes trailing behind a star-studded floor. 'How is Fujimaru Ritsuka now?'

'The healing effect of the Eternal Lamp is fading.' Kalia's voice carried the winds and snows of the North, 'The iris of her left eye is beginning to disintegrate, like...like a glass bead hollowed out by worms.'

The stained-glass windows of the Throne Hall suddenly trembled violently. Morgan tore off a necklace inlaid with red agate from her chest, and as it was transmitted through the crystal ball, the gem traced a lava-like trajectory in the air: 'Catch the Soul Crystal! This will at least preserve the foundation of her reconstructed personality when she burns her life force again.'

'But Your Majesty! This is a treasure you brought out from the Inner Sea of ​​Stars—'

'Enough.' Morgan waved her hand, severing the magical transmission. The crystal ball dimmed, and her gilded fingernails carved deep marks into the throne. As the footsteps of servants sounded outside the door, the Queen murmured to herself, 'Merlin...where have you placed your bet this time...?'

After the communication was completely cut off, Kalia stood there stunned, holding the scalding hot Soul Crystal. The iridescent light flowing inside the gem was very similar to Ritsuka's hair color. She suddenly remembered the scene she had seen one night in the Gloucester Tower—Morgan stared for a long time at the crystal projection of the pilgrimage procession, his fingertips repeatedly tracing the figure of the orange-haired girl fighting against the calamity.

Meanwhile, in Camelot's palace, Morgan buried her face in the goose-down pillow where Artoria had once slept. The faint scent of stargrass lingered on the pillow, strangely similar to the fragrance of the flowers Ritsuka had brought when she presented them to express her gratitude at the victory banquet. Outside the window, the shadow of dragon wings swept by. She lay awake in the darkness until dawn approached, then whispered to the pale sky:

'Vivian, if it were you... how would you protect these candles that ignite despair?'

The Fairy Kingdom, the land of lakes (where Albion's remains are located).

Through the dark, dense forests south of Ensos, the light seemed to be swallowed by something unseen. The branches of towering ancient trees intertwined to form a dome that blotted out the sun, and glowing spores floated in the purple mist rising from the swamp. Artoria's starlight barrier carved a path of light through the darkness, but it could not penetrate the viscous substance writhing in the shadows.

'Something is following us.' Kalia's sword swept across the tundra, severing several transparent tentacles that were trying to entangle her ankles. 'This land is breathing.'

As the group broke through the final barrier of thorns, the sudden burst of light blinded Ritsuka. Once her vision adjusted, she saw a sight she would never forget—in the center of a swamp as black as crude oil, the winding skeleton of a dragon rose like a mountain range. Its skull alone was comparable in size to the Chaldea command center, its ribs piercing the sky like pale arcades, and its not-yet-completely-corroded scales shimmered with an iridescent sheen under the barrier's light.

"Welcome to my mining site~" a sweet voice came from Dragon Bone's eye sockets. Koyanskaya, dressed in moss-green hunting attire, sat on her cheekbone, swinging her legs, her nine fox tails spreading out behind her like a tail feather. "Looks like the little cockroaches are more resilient than expected."

Kalia's knight's sword flashed from its sheath: 'State your identity, intruder!'

'That's really hurtful~' Koyanskaya landed lightly, her high heels crushing a glowing scale on the ground. 'But I don't have time to play hide-and-seek with you all today—' She stroked the dragon bone beside her, scraping off a few specks of golden powder with her fingernails, 'After all, I need to collect Albion's active cells before the expiration date.'

'The final dragon...' Ritsuka suddenly recalled the encrypted files in the Da Vinci database, 'The final dragon, Albion, its very existence is a paradox of mysticism.' She subconsciously pressed her still aching ribs, and the chill brought by the fusion capsule resonated with the oppressive aura emanating from the dragon bones.

Koyanskaya suddenly sniffed: "Oh my, you have a very interesting scent." She looked at Ritsuka suspiciously, "Could it be that you've already been in contact with 'that'?"

Kalia's sword suddenly flashed with frost: 'Leave the Sanctuary immediately!'

"Don't rush~" Koyanskaya pulled a test tube filled with golden liquid from her sleeve. "I've got the souvenir I wanted." She suddenly hurled something into the swamp, causing the thick black mud to boil and rise into a barrier. By the time the ice crystals shattered the barrier, the fox-woman's figure had already vanished, leaving only her lingering voice echoing among the dragon bones: "I suggest you all hurry up~ After all, there's more than one mantis stalking the cicada..."

Ritsuka suddenly knelt on one knee, a sharp alarm blaring from the monitor on her sleeve. The magical graph projected onto the monitor's screen had the exact same frequency of fluctuation as the iridescent light flowing across the dragon's surface.

Koyanskaya held the dragon bone, its tip shimmering with iridescent light, in her fingers, her fox tail swaying merrily behind her: 'Well then, everyone, I'll go first...'

Before the words were even finished, a bright blue meteor streaked through the twilight. The fairy knight Lancelot's sword shattered the remains in her hand with pinpoint accuracy, scattering bone fragments like diamond dust. As Koyanskaya retreated, she carved a ten-meter-wide trench in the mud, her nine fox tails bristling like thorns: 'That persistent gatekeeper dragon!'

'Don't even think about touching my essence!' The fairy knight Lancelot charged forward, his twin swords clashing, the wind from the blades slicing through several of the fox furs that had been raised. Koyanskaya caught the incoming blade with her bare hands, the scales scraping against her nails creating a grating noise. The phantom of Cerberus appeared behind her, its scorching breath evaporating the swamp into boiling bubbles.

Kalia's frost magic wove a barrier in time, and in the explosion of ice and fire, Goyanskaya's right arm had transformed into a blood-red claw. When the heavy blow struck the sword that the fairy knight Lancelot had parried, the resulting shockwave shattered the surrounding floating glowing spores.

'An opening!' Kalia's sword tip touched the ground, and an icy rift, like a silver snake, darted toward the fox woman's ankle. The instant the ice crystals climbed onto her high heels, the fairy knight Lancelot's spinning slash had already sliced ​​through the air—but was blocked by a suddenly appearing black rune before it could reach its target.

Koyanskaya licked the blood from the corner of her lips: 'What a warm welcome~' She crushed the gray sphere hidden in her sleeve, and a sickening sound of bones reassembling echoed from the depths of the swamp. Two purplish-black dragon claws covered in rotting flesh tore through the mud, and the monstrous dragon, formed from calamity, shook off the maggots covering its body. The scarlet flames burning in its eye sockets illuminated the entire area as if it were a blood-soaked hell.

'A parting gift, please accept it~' Koyanskaya bent down to pick up the dragon bone fragments and leaped into the suddenly unfolding teleportation array. The roar of the Calamity Dragon shook the remains of Albion, their rotting wings stirring up a foul wind, and the slime dripping from their sharp teeth corroded the tundra, sending puffs of white smoke into the air.

Ritsuka's warning and the dragon's roar rang out simultaneously. The fairy knight Lancelot spread his dragon wings to protect everyone, his calamity-inducing breath creating spiderweb-like cracks in the azure barrier. As the smoke cleared, in the fading light of the teleportation array, Goyanskaya's final whisper drifted over: 'I suggest you all cherish these last moments of peace~'

Before the spatial ripples from where Koyanskaya had vanished had subsided, the stench of the Calamity Dragon's breath poured down like a waterfall. Wherever the purplish-black slime swept, the tundra turned to scorched earth, and rocks crumbled into ashes. The ice wall erected by Kalia vaporized the instant it came into contact with the acid, and the rising poisonous mist etched the surrounding trees into grotesque skeletons.

"Don't take it head-on!" Fairy Knight Lancelot pulled Ritsuka back, his dragon wings sweeping away the splashing corrosive droplets. Kalia's ice crystal path rapidly spread across the swamp's surface, the explosions of countless ice spears piercing the dragon's chest mingling with the sounds of flesh writhing as the monster regenerated, creating a nightmarish symphony.

"They're absorbing the resentment from the swamp to repair themselves!" Ritsuka pointed to the churning black mud at the dragon's wounds, where the venom frozen by Kalia was liquefying again. "At this rate, they'll only be worn down and killed!"

Sei Shonagon was suddenly scratched on the cheek by flying ice shards, and blood dripped down her dazed gaze. As the dragon's tail hammer shattered the ice field, the golden light that bloomed in Ritsuka's hand tore through the shadow of death—Brynhildr's spear phantom swept away the flying ice shards, and the runes flowing on the surface of the capsule burned scorch marks on the back of her hand.

"Run!" Ritsuka dragged Sei Shonagon into the dead wood, the roar of a collapsing glacier echoing behind them. Kalia's exclamation was drowned out by a dragon's roar; she saw the fairy knight Lancelot suddenly fold his wings and plummet to the ground, his usually mocking, icy eyes now burning with primordial starlight.

'Is it finally going to reveal its true colors...' Kalia murmured to himself as the magical power in the world began to run rampant.

Blue-black lightning coiled around the body of the fairy knight Lancelot like a giant python, and Albion's remains resonated with the thunderstorm. Iridescent light rose from the surface of the dragon bones, and the black mud from the swamp surged upwards. The instant the lightning cleaved the sky, the dragon wings on her back suddenly unfurled to a scale that blotted out the sun, horned claws tore through her gauntlets, and two horns sprouted from her forehead, piercing her helmet. Her previously tightly fitting knight's armor transformed into a close-fitting battle suit, her skin covered in pearly dragon scales, and the two swords she held had merged into a lance inscribed with dragon language.

'This is the true form of the Dragon of the End...' Her breath caused the entire swamp to boil.

The oppressive aura swept across the land like a tsunami, and Ritsuka's Sheba stat on her sleeve instantly spiked. Sei Shonagon suddenly coughed violently, the blood she vomited evaporating into crimson steam in the air. Even the Calamity Dragon instinctively retreated, its rotting claws carving deep furrows in the mud.

The fairy knight Lancelot pointed his lance at the heavens, the light gathered at the tip causing the clouds to swirl. As the first ray of starlight pierced through the mist that had lingered for fifty thousand years, the magic circuits between her scales lit up with the light of creation itself.

Ritsuka gazed at the figure with outstretched dragon wings in the sky, her throat tightening: 'A dragon... Melusin is actually...'

"No time to explain!" Kalia's ice wall bloomed like crystal flowers, enveloping the three in a prismatic barrier. Through the translucent ice wall, they could see the fairy knight Lancelot raising his double-bladed lance towards the shattered sky, the sphere of light condensing at the tip of the lance beginning to devour the surrounding light.

Sei Shonagon suddenly grabbed Ritsuka's wrist: 'The magical power concentration of that spell... has already surpassed the record of the Holy Lance Rungomminiad!'

Outside, the fairy knight Lancelot's dragon eyes had turned a molten gold. She gazed down at the calamity dragon churning in the swamp, ancient dragon language flowing from her lips: "Rise from the decaying bones. Breath of fire, wings of iron. In the twilight sky, like the cry of a newborn...! Shatter! The unseen, pure pulse!"

The moment the merged lances fell, time seemed to freeze. The instant the double-ringed magic circle appeared on the ground, the lances suddenly expanded into wedges of light piercing the heavens and earth. The space at the point of contact collapsed first, and the two calamity dragons were instantly vaporized under the overwhelming force, not even having time to howl. Immediately afterwards, the shockwave spread in a ring, the ice wall built by Kalia evaporated into thick white mist in the intense heat, and the three people hiding behind it were pressed onto the melting ground by the shockwave.

When the world regained its color, the swamp transformed into a glassy, ​​crystalline plain, and the surface of Albion's remains shimmered with a golden light like lava. The fairy knight Lancelot landed before Ritsuka, his skin, now stripped of its dragon scales, still steaming with heat.

'As you can see.' Her fingertips traced the faded dragon horns on her forehead. 'I am the continuation of Albion, the Dragon of the End.' The broken dragon bones behind her resonated with a low murmur. 'These bones are not my grave, but the cradle that gave me birth.'

This island is actually a graveyard piled high with the corpses of countless fairies. In the endless cycle of calamities and wars, the uncollected bones gradually accumulated to form the foundation of Britain.

Similar to the history of humankind, the fall of Albion, the Dragon of the End, has always been shrouded in mystery. A power capable of annihilating such beings should not exist in the world, yet one day its mountain-like skeleton suddenly appeared on the coast of Britain, and the land soaked in its dragon blood was transformed into a pitch-black swamp that devours light.

For thousands of years, countless fairies have tried to extract power from the dragon's remains, only to be swallowed up by the surging resentment before they could even reach the core. What they did not know was that Albion's dying consciousness continued to pulsate deep within the swamp, and these fragmented minds eventually coalesced into a humanoid embryo—the original fairy knight Lancelot was not the perfect form he is today, but a deformed being covered in half-melted dragon scales.

Although the Mirror Clan chose to settle in the land of lakes, their crystal divination always avoided the direction of the dragon's remains. Caravans passing through the area would deliberately detour, and shepherds' tales often mentioned 'scaled monsters' crawling in the swamps. During Liliana's pilgrimage, a centaur glimpsed a dragon's shadow learning to walk in the moonlight—at that time, her back still bore remnants of bone spurs.

The turning point came on a drizzly evening. The Wind Clan's maids frantically tried to stop her, but Aurora still bent down and scooped up the dragon maiden from the mud. What other fairies shunned the stench of decay smelled like the aroma of aged wine to the Wind Clan Chief.

'No name?' Aurora wiped the grime from the girl's cheek with a handkerchief, finding untransformed cheek-like fissures between her stiff limbs. 'Then I'll call you Melusin.' Golden butterfly wings sifted through the sunlight, 'From this day forward, you will be my ultimate weapon, belonging only to me.'

The dragon girl stared blankly at the first fairy to smile at her. She didn't yet understand the weight of a name, but instinctively clutched the hem of Aurora's embroidered skirt. Those years spent alone in the swamp, mimicking the expressions of passersby, finally solidified into a tangible form.

Melusine's dragon tail traced a winding path across the scorched earth: 'Now you understand? The echo born from the putrid mire is nothing more than a symbol of this nation's solidified sorrow.' She tilted her head, scrutinizing Ritsuka's suddenly changed expression. 'What? How different is this from the Lord Lancelot you read about in the annals of pan-human history?'

Ritsuka gazed at the dragon scales that hadn't completely faded from the other's body: 'So what you're protecting isn't just His Majesty Morgan, but also...'

"The source of my existence." Melusin's fingertips coalesced into dragon-bone-shaped ice crystals. "The feeling of having a fragment taken away is like a human having their spine ripped out while they're still alive~" She suddenly spread her wings and soared into the air, shattered moonlight streaming down from between the membranes of her dragon wings. "Become stronger, Fujimaru Ritsuka, until the day you face the Queen with your sword drawn—" Her crimson tongue brushed against her fangs, "I will show you the true Dance of the End."

A vortex of air swept up ash, and the dragon's shadow vanished into the depths of the clouds. Kalia silently gripped the hilt of her sword, the wind shimmering with the phosphorescent dust Aurora had scattered years before. The conspiracies and machinations hidden within Melusin's transformation, like her fading dragon horns, now sank into the deepest shadows of Britain.

[True Name Unveiled - Fairy Knight Lancelot's True Name: Melusin]

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

Eternal Calendar

As Vivian crossed the final barrier of the Inner Sea, a pink sky unfolded before her like a painting. The clouds were bathed in a honey-golden light, and crystal vines hung from the distant floating islands. She couldn't help but loosen her staff, letting her fingertips brush against the light dust drifting in the air.

"Isn't it beautiful?" The sudden greeting startled her, causing her beret to fall to the ground. Turning around, she met a pair of weathered, ancient eyes. Liliana picked up her hat; the golden hair beneath the crown was much dimmer than she remembered. "A new pilgrim from the Starry Sea has arrived? Looks like I've displeased them quite a bit."

Vivian noticed the new slashes on the opponent's armor, the various grooves inlaid with scales of a different race. 'The Holy Lance of my senior... seems to be weeping?'

'After all, she has to fend off thirty assassination attempts every day.' Liliana pulled her into the teleportation array, the sound of the wind swallowing their unfinished words. When the bright light faded, Vivian was choked by the devastation of the palace—the niches that once displayed artworks were now filled with threatening letters, the broken gaps in the stained glass windows were hastily boarded up, and most glaringly, the Holy Lance itself, suspended in the dome, its peeling gold resembling a bleeding bandage.

'Have you seen enough?' Liliana kicked aside the torn petition on the ground. 'The Northern Clan demands more territory, the Wind Clan poisons the drinking water source, the Earth Clan…' She suddenly swung her sword, slicing away a crossbow bolt fired from the window, 'like this.'

Vivian bent down to pick up the arrow; the arrowhead was engraved with the emblem of the united six races. 'Why...why have they all gone mad?'

"Because I implemented the 'Forbidden Arts Control Regulations' in the Fairy Kingdom." The roar of protesters banging on the palace gates echoed outside, Liliana's cold laughter drowned out by deafening curses. "You see, this is the price of trying to save a bunch of inherently evil creatures."

Vivian stared blankly at the rotating holy lance on the dome, the falling golden shards appearing to her like funeral paper money. 'Senior... what exactly is this...?'

'A purification device for survival of the fittest.' Liliana's fingertips traced through the void, and a wailing fairy appeared on the light screen. 'At this time every month, the Holy Lance eliminates the weak who cannot adapt to the environment.' She suddenly clenched her fist, and an image of a village, amidst screams, transformed into a stream of data. 'Look, the world is much quieter now.'

'This is no pilgrimage!' Vivian grabbed the other's wrist, which was encased in armor, but touched a cold tear stain. She then noticed that Liliana's eyes were filled with tears that would never dry, and the edge of her crown was deeply embedded in the wound on her forehead.

The badges of the two fairy knights who died three weeks ago were pinned to Liliana's heart, trembling in sync with her own beating heart. When the forensic pathologist uncovered Hellanders's poison-corroded body, she crushed the bars of the courtroom with her own hands. And Monica's shattered armor, submerged in a pool of blood, caused the Holy Lance to emit a mournful cry that tore through the night.