As lly's voice fell, a beautiful chanting incantation followed.
Unlike rlin, who was not adept at reciting spells, her incantations were swift and concise, carrying a lancholic resonance, as if mourning for the world.
Under that singing-like fairy incantation, countless flower petals danced in the morning breeze, gathering above Calot's highest point before finally bursting with a crisp sound—scattering into a morning rain of petals.
The floral rain wiped away the mirror-like veil, unveiling to all the truth that had been obscured by the power of the Goddess of Fate.
And in that instant, all the fairies of Britain saw it.
They witnessed the entire pilgrimage of their Queen—Morgan.
Accompanied by the Goddess of Fate, a white-clothed youth, a Fairy Knight, and a Flower Magus, they walked the path of pilgrimage together.
She was Vivian, the girl picked up by the Rain Fairy Queen, raised with love, and carrying a dream as pure as a fairy tale.
She had lifted the chosen staff high and tolled the six bells of atonent.
And now, the past that had been concealed by the power of the Goddess of Fate was laid bare before every fairy in Britain, including Queen Morgan herself.
At that very mont—
Amidst the raining petals, the Vivian of the past stepped forward from the floral rain, erging from the mirror of ti, standing before Morgan of the present.
"It seems... Promise has once again fulfilled our promise."
Vivian stood before Morgan, looking at the Queen who was staring back at her in stunned silence, and a smile naturally appeared on her face.
And with Vivian's arrival, the long-sealed mories ca flooding back.
Morgan instantly understood the promise Vivian was referring to.
"I want to see her..."
Back then—
When Promise and the others embarked on their journey with Vivian, ringing the Bells of Pilgrimage and leaving, Vivian made a request of Promise.
She wanted to see her.
She wanted to see the future she would reach without Promise—
To see the Ruler of the Lostbelt, the Winter Queen—Morgan.
And when Promise, feeling a bit puzzled, asked why she wanted to see Morgan, Vivian simply smiled and answered.
"Because I have sothing I want to say to my future self... Though—I feel like she probably won't want to see ."
Beside them, Fairy Knight lusine was so shocked that she even rubbed her eyes.
"Two Queen Morgans... and also—what are these extra mories in my head?!"
Just as lusine felt her head spinning from confusion..
She saw it.
The instant Morgan saw Vivian, a mont of undeniable panic flashed across her face—
Even a hint of flustered embarrassnt.
But almost imdiately, Morgan regained her composure.
Yet, despite her attempts to remain calm, the way her magic staff trembled uncontrollably in her hands revealed just how shaken she truly was.
"So... this is the truth."
Morgan, feigning calmness, cast a cold gaze at the Vivian who had erged from the floral rain.
Then, she turned her head slightly to look at lly, the Flower Magus who had unveiled the false veil to reveal the truth.
Unable to hold back, she spoke in a chilling tone.
"To have the Goddess of Fate conceal fate itself, embarking on a pilgrimage into the distant past...
In this Lostbelt, where parallel tilines do not exist, once the bells toll, then whether it is the past or the future, there is only one sound that will ever ring!"
Put into simpler terms—
The mont Vivian tolled the Bell of Pilgrimage in the past, the bells of the future had already been rung.
And since parallel worlds do not exist here, when the bells tolled in the future, even the Bells of Atonent in the past could be considered as having already rung at the sa ti.
Morgan's voice was not loud, but whether it was lusine, Oberon, or the others, they heard her words with absolute clarity.
And as ti passed, lusine, who had been rubbing her temples, gradually absorbed the mories of the past.
Thus, she not only recalled that painting from that night, nor just the intellect that Promise had bestowed upon her—
She also rembered that small journey she had once embarked upon alongside Promise and Vivian.
During that period, having just gained intelligence and being newly born, lusine was in a state of pure innocence..well one could even say ignorance.
She had an overwhelming attachnt to Promise, the one who had pulled her from the mud.
And every night, she had wanted to secretly crawl into his arms,
But every ti, she would be caught by Clotho, who would simply throw her back out.
Because of this, in the past, the person lusine hated the most was Clotho.
She had even bitten Clotho in anger over it...
As lusine reminisced, she subconsciously turned her head to glance at Clotho.
Noticing her gaze, the turned her head as well.
Her pale, vacant eyes seed to fall upon lusine.
Feeling awkward, lusine hurriedly looked away.
At the sa ti, she finally understood sothing—
She understood why Promise always treated her so naturally, why he never wanted her hands to be stained with blood...
"lusine, you are the most beautiful Fairy Knight, do you know that?"
This was sothing Promise had often told her.
Back then, lusine hadn't understood—
But now, she completely did.
Realizing this, lusine snapped back to reality, turning her head—
Only to glare furiously at the deity before her, the very one who had 'swallowed' Promise.
Yet, deep in her heart, a faint sense of confusion also surfaced.
Because lusine noticed that disaster that had crawled out from the depths of the earth was rely standing still—
And had yet to launch an attack.
.
.
.
Darkness.
What unfolded before Promise's eyes was an endless abyss of darkness.
At this mont, he felt as though he had stepped onto a one-way path to the Underworld—a road of no return.
The mont the priestess disappeared, Promise found himself in this pitch-black world.
However, he could still faintly feel slight vibrations, and from that, he deduced that he was likely inside the body of the deity, Cernunnos.
So... Cernunnos has already awakened?
Promise speculated in his mind.
At the sa ti, he could clearly feel the cursed power surging toward him, eroding his body and even his soul.
This left him no choice but to take out a golden apple and bite into it.
The divine power of the golden apple coursed through his body as he gazed into the infinite darkness before him—a void so absolute that not a single glimr of light could be seen.
Promise did not hesitate any longer and stepped forward.
The darkness devoured all, consuming not only existence but also the very concepts of ti and perception.
It stripped Promise of his senses, like a dream in which one sinks deeper and deeper into the ocean—an abyss that sought to drag him down into endless nothingness.
But to Promise, this experience was not unfamiliar at all.
After all, during Deter's trial, he had once walked a similar path of darkness.
So naturally—it could not stop him.
And so, in this black abyss, Promise walked on.
He had no idea how long he had been walking—
Until the sound of crying reached his ears.
He continued forward, treading across Cernunnos' body, and before the cursed power could completely consu him, he found the sacrificial core—Baobhan Sith.
But at this mont—
The Baobhan Sith before him was not the proud Fairy Knight he had once known.
Instead, she appeared far smaller, crouched on the ground, hugging her tortured and wounded body, weeping.
Seeing her in this state, Promise imdiately understood what had happened.
In the original tiline, she beca the sacrificial core because she had witnessed Morgan being beaten to death by the fairies.
At that mont—her heart had already died.
Having fallen into complete despair, filled with boundless hatred toward the fairies, she had naturally beco the perfect sacrificial vessel for the deity's awakening.
But in fact, even without that specific future, she was always destined to be the perfect offering.
Because Baobhan Sith's past itself was a tragic microcosm of this world built on deception, violence, and bloodshed.
When Morgan had once been a savior, Baobhan Sith had been the only fairy to ever show her kindness—to express gratitude.
But she was too weak.
Her kindness toward Morgan made the other fairies hate her, and as fairies never change, every ti the Savior reawakened—whenever Baobhan Sith followed her—she would always et the sa fate.
Tortured to death by the fairies.
Her limbs twisted and broken, her screams of agony bringing forth nothing but cruelty—neither pity nor rcy.
And as Promise stepped before her—
The small, trembling fairy vanished.
The sobs also disappeared.
In her place now sat a different figure—
A fairy with waist-length crimson hair, sitting on the ground, hugging her knees, her head buried deeply.
Promise looked at her, pondered for a mont, then quietly sat down beside her.
"...I rember everything now.
And even... mories that shouldn't exist."
Baobhan Sith suddenly spoke, her voice breaking the silence of the pitch-black world as she looked at Promise and spoke.
"Including the fact that you had already helped Her Majesty in the past, ringing the Bell of Pilgrimage..."
"Even the fact that lusine once saved a Fairy Kingdom in the past."
"You have rewritten the fates of many, you are incredible... But—"
"In my most painful monts... when I was tornted again and again... no one ever ca to save ."
Her voice carried an indescribable tone,
"Even now, the reason you have co here is because you believe that this great deity should not be a calamity,"
"Yet you never considered that... I still ended up as the core, just as fate had foretold."
At this very mont, having beco the core, Baobhan Sith had inherited a portion of Cernunnos' divine authority.
Though she could not fully control it, she could still see everything unfolding across Fairy Britain through this power.
"But, in fact... I do not bla you. Because you never had the obligation to save ."
Without waiting for Promise to respond, she spoke again—
"But... I hate this world."
Promise gazed at Baobhan Sith in front of him, whose body was covered in scars.
And the mont her final words fell, the cursed power surged like boiling lava, rushing toward Promise—
It was as if it sought to consu him whole.
Yet, just then—
Promise suddenly spoke.
"Do you know what awaits the Paradise Fairy once the Pilgrimage is complete and the Bell of Atonent is tolled?"
Even as the flood of curses surged toward him, Promise did not panic.
Instead, he simply continued.
"The fairy who rings the six bells..."
"Will beco the Holy Sword itself, gaining the right to return to the Inner Sea of the Stars..."
"A place where only the sinless may enter—Avalon."
"And now,"
As he spoke, sothing appeared in Promise's hand.
A beautiful flower.
It blood before Baobhan Sith's eyes.
A faint smile erged on Promise's face.
"It is ti to forge the Holy Sword."
.
.
.
.
Only the sinless may pass—
A land of eternal spring, where vivid flowers blood in chaotic harmony.
The only obstructions to sight were the distant forests barely visible on the horizon.
Even if one looked around the entire sky, the only things that filled the view were the divided earth and endless blue heavens.
The warmth of spring and the vitality of sumr filled the daylight,
While the cool breeze of autumn and the starry sky of winter embraced the night.
This was the Land of Everlasting Spring in myths.
A land where beasts of wisdom could never reach,
A paradise beyond human history, untouched by the decline and destruction that repeated upon the surface world.
A place that had existed alongside humanity since ancient tis,
Yet was entirely separate from it.
Its na was—
Avalon.
"So, it has finally arrived?"
In the garden, a man wearing a long robe woven from fairy fibers suddenly smiled, as if sensing sothing.
"Yes, it has arrived."
The response ca in the form of a joyful voice—as clear as the ringing of silver bells.
From within the sea of flowers, a fairy stepped forward—
She wore a white robe, identical to the man's own.
They stood before each other—
And smiled together.
They seed like a pair of siblings,
Or perhaps, they were the mirrored halves of a single soul.
They were—
Britain's most famous Flower Magi.
Figures who had appeared in countless myths and legends,
Standing atop the summit of grand magi,
The highest of all magicians,
A half-human, half-dream spirit, bearing the proof of supre magic—
'The Eyes That See Through the World.'
They were—
rlin.
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