"Since the decision is made, let's set off!"
rlin pointed toward the depths of the grassland.
"Once we round that hill, we'll see the Chosen Land—the forge that was originally ant for the six Primordial Fairies to craft the Holy Sword. That is where the mission of the Fairy of Paradise will be completed!"
"There will be several checkpoints along the way, but don't worry. Just treat them as defense chanisms for the final test!"
...
The garden within the Inner Sea of the Stars stretched endlessly.
As they rounded the hill, the forge, resembling an altar, ca into view.
At the sa ti, the group arrived at the location of the first checkpoint.
"Prepare yourselves."
rlin reminded them.
"The final checkpoints materialize the words and actions of the Fairy of Paradise as obstacles. This is a reckoning of her life so far—a confirmation of her brief existence, from the harsh, cold winter to the joyful, warm closure of spring. It is a ritual in itself, much like cleansing and changing clothes before offering incense."
"I cannot intervene, so this is up to you. This is precisely why I summoned you here."
As soon as he finished speaking.
Artoria abruptly vanished before their eyes.
For a mont, everyone was caught off guard.
"It seems it has already begun. Don't worry, she will return soon."
rlin, however, remained perfectly calm, easing their concerns.
"Hey, rlin, I have a question for you."
Muramasa suddenly spoke up.
He glared coldly at rlin, his eyes filled with unmistakable heaviness.
"Having Artoria complete her mission—does that also an—"
"Ah, it seems the enemies have appeared!"
rlin chuckled, cutting him off.
Dark figures erged from the direction where Artoria had disappeared.
Their forms resembled Mors.
Yet, they gave off an unnervingly sharp impression, like the icy chill of winter, sending a shiver to the core.
There was no other choice.
Muramasa had to set aside his doubts for the mont. Together with Mash, he guarded Gudao while charging forward to engage the enemies.
"Hey, kid, lend a hand!"
"The few of you are more than enough."
Eiji glanced at Muramasa, who was shouting at him, and replied indifferently.
The enemies weren't particularly strong. Though it would take so ti, defeating them wouldn't be difficult for Muramasa and Mash.
In contrast.
He had other, more pressing matters on his mind.
Thinking this, Eiji shifted his attention elsewhere.
"Oh? After becoming an Earth Attribute, you can even do sothing like this?"
rlin watched him with a smile, marveling inwardly.
"Growing so powerful in such a short ti, yet leaving no trace of how it happened... Such existences, beyond the control of fate, are always highly sought after... Goetia, in the end, will your efforts rely beco a stepping stone for soone else?"
...
Ever since she could rember, the sound of bells had echoed in her ears.
Without a mont's pause.
Even in her dreams, she could clearly hear the lodious chis.
It was enough to make her feel irritated, even disgusted.
"Go and begin your pilgrimage."
The bells urged her on.
Being urged so frequently, Artoria could understand that her pilgrimage was likely a matter of great importance. She had even entertained the thought of trying to prop up the collapsing edifice.
But.
This Britain was nothing short of hell.
In her childhood.
Her mother had said:
"You must be of use to us! You must train relentlessly, sparing not even sleep—strive to at least appear like the Child of Prophecy! Only then can we earn big money. Otherwise, who would adopt you?"
Her words were heartless, unlike a mother's.
Everyone in the village was just like her mother.
While closely monitoring her, they also made efforts to ignore her.
Because the fairies in the village were ordinary fairies, adopting the Child of Prophecy ant risking defiance of the Queen's command. Thus, they watched Artoria's every move while constantly expecting returns proportional to the risk they took.
At the sa ti, this also ant:
If she ever failed to act like the Child of Prophecy destined to overthrow the Queen, she could imdiately face elimination by the villagers!
If the risk was no longer worth the investnt, then to avoid discovery by the Queen, they would have to eradicate her completely—kill Artoria!
"Yes, I understand, Mother!"
Even as a child, Artoria was remarkably clever.
She deeply understood the perilous environnt she was in and thus wore a sweet smile—utterly obedient and docile.
That smile successfully eased her mother's suspicions.
But it wasn't just about words; corresponding actions were needed.
So, from a young age, Artoria practiced her staff techniques with extre diligence.
After all, no one could teach her magecraft, leaving her no choice but to hone her skills in clubbing people with a magical staff.
Amidst such thick malice, Artoria learned from childhood to wear a mask, to never refuse others' demands, and to flatter people obsequiously.
Because the slightest misstep would invite whippings from the villagers.
To cut costs in raising her and to avoid detection by the Queen's army, the villagers forced her to live in the stables—a place reeking of horse dung all day, with drafts leaking through the walls and not even a proper set of bedding.
Growing up in such conditions, Artoria felt that this fairy nation was utterly wretched!
Despite being so weak herself, was she supposed to strive, struggle, and risk her life for these very fairies—to overthrow the Queen's rule?
What a joke!
No matter what others thought, Artoria herself couldn't muster even a shred of fighting spirit.
The bells ringing incessantly in her ears only made her feel disheartened, even stirring a rebellious urge to simply abandon them to their fate.
This life continued until she was about six years old.
Because she unconditionally t all the villagers' expectations, the fairies grew slightly less wary of her, allowing her a little freedom.
Of course, even then, she dared not relax in the slightest, still training diligently every day, terrified of giving the villagers any excuse to execute her.
One day, while practicing her staff techniques alone by the fields:
"How disgusting!"
"It's so revolting, it makes want to vomit!"
"Though the faeries are disgusting enough, you who obey their every word are even more repulsive to , so much so that I couldn't help but speak up!"
"Whoa! The wand is talking!"
"I am not a wand! Listen carefully, I am rlin, the great sorcerer rlin, rely using this wand to speak with you! From now on, I shall teach you magic and take you as my apprentice, so you'd better look forward to it!"
From that day onward.
The monotonous, tedious, and fearful life finally gained a touch of different color.
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