"Fairies who cherish freedom, fairies who guard love—and thus, lost the children of the world."
"Even after countless destructions, your Britannia shall surely continue to prosper."
"Spring's astonishment, summer's strife, autumn's celebration, winter's war. Through the piling of countless deaths, you shall flourish forevermore."
"But never forget—no matter how strong the castle, its foundation remains unchanged."
"The newer the face of the world, the older its roots. And so, without anyone realizing, it becomes like this—"
"Struck by the bite of an insignificant insect, it collapses in an instant."
...
Seated upon her throne, Morgan slowly opened her eyes from a light slumber. Through the veil draped over her crown, she gazed down at the ministers gathered in the great hall below.
They were in the midst of a heated debate. It was their voices that had roused her once again.
During the monthly court assembly, each minister expressed their opinion—some calm, some rash, others coldly calculating or rigorously logical. Every statement reflected the speaker's own temperament.
"Londinium has remained silent for seventeen years. After a war that lasted over a millennium, surely even that God King must be struggling to maintain his campaign with mortals whose lifespans barely reach thirty years."
The one who spoke was Spriggan, chieftain of the Earth Clan. Unlike his predecessors, this leader, who had assumed his position a century ago, was far more shrewd and calculating than most of his kind.
"Not silent, Spriggan. Small forces from Londinium still raid nearby territories at irregular intervals. Oxford, Salisbury, and even your own Norwich face the same situation."
The objection came from a burly female fairy—Barghest, who had been granted the title of Fairy Knight Gawain by Morgan.
Born more than two hundred years ago as a high-ranking fairy of the Fang Clan, she had fought alongside the Queen's army in the war against Londinium soon after her birth. During the battle, she held off the God King's main forces for a full hour, earning Morgan's favor. For her valor, she was elevated to the rank of Fairy Knight, granted Manchester as her fief, and given the right to attend the royal council.
"Even so," Woodwose interjected, "we can't allow Londinium to remain unchecked. We must take advantage of this moment—while the God King hasn't reignited the war—to destroy Londinium completely."
The speaker was Woodwose, the current Sub-Bell of the Fang Clan.
His predecessor, Sub-Bell Wryneck, had once followed the God King. During the Second Winter War in the thousandth year of the Queen's Calendar, Wryneck had fought valiantly against the Fairy Knight Lancelot, and both had perished in mutual destruction. As his successor, Woodwose was born within Queen Morgan's domain.
Morgan had once expected Shiomi to take Woodwose away, but he had never done so.
"Forgive my bluntness," said Melusine, the one bearing the title of Fairy Knight Lancelot, her tone cool and proud. "But how do you compare to your predecessor, the Sub-Bell Wryneck?"
"What do you mean, Lancelot?" Woodwose asked.
"I fought with all my might just to barely slay the former Sub-Bell of the Fang Clan, Wryneck," Melusine reminded him. "You've never faced the God King. You have no idea what kind of opponent he truly is."
Her words struck like a sharp wake-up call. The reason Wryneck had abandoned his clan to serve the God King was a well-known truth across all of Britannia.
It was said that the God King, who once walked Britannia as a sage, had utterly defeated Wryneck without sustaining so much as a scratch.
As fellow Sub-Bell, Woodwose's strength differed little from his predecessor's—indeed, it could be said to be nearly identical. Even Melusine had found that enemy troublesome.
Woodwose had to consider that even if an army were to press forward and catch the God King off guard, that man could still single-handedly reverse the course of battle. For the past two thousand years, he had done just that—repeatedly waging war and slaughtering fairies without restraint.
No matter how fiercely the fairies fought, they were trampled again and again by the God King, as if they were powerless beings without any means of resistance. Even Camelot itself had fallen three times.
Each time, it was because certain fairies had betrayed their kin for personal gain, opening the gates and surrendering the city. The God King, using that as proof of their "untrustworthiness," would then throw every traitorous fairy alive into the Great Hollow behind the city.
"The past is the past! Losing once doesn't mean we've lost our courage! As those loyal to Her Majesty, we should fight to the death on the battlefield! Sir Lancelot, standing here and bolstering the enemy while crushing our own morale—how can you still call yourself the strongest of the Fairy Knights?"
Unlike Barghest and Spriggan, Woodwose completely rejected Melusine's reasoning.
Throughout the thousand years since his birth, every war with Londinium had been fought either by Morgan herself against the God King or by Melusine holding back his main forces. Even the one opportunity to intercept the God King's vanguard had gone to Barghest. That frustration burned in Woodwose's heart—he was desperate to prove his worth and achieve his own glory.
"Chieftain Woodwose, your words are rather presumptuous," Barghest rebuked.
At that moment, a fifth voice rose—a calm, seemingly conciliatory tone. "Chieftain Woodwose's words aren't entirely wrong. Yet, Lord Gawain, to rebuke your own chieftain so harshly—though you now stand as equals—doesn't such a lack of respect count as... presumptuous?"
"Aurora, you—" Barghest faltered, momentarily speechless.
She had no wish to lose her composure before the throne, yet Aurora's seemingly casual remark had deftly turned the blame back on her. Aurora, the fairy who had become Chieftain of the Wind Clan after the Winter War, regarded her with quiet indifference.
"Who is being presumptuous?"
Morgan's voice suddenly filled the hall, sharp and cold. The chamber fell silent at once. Those who had been enjoying the spectacle quickly lowered their gazes, waiting for her judgment.
There was no killing intent in her tone, no oppressive aura—yet all the courtiers in the hall immediately knelt, fearful of drawing their queen's ire.
"I have heard your opinions," Morgan said evenly. "But a war against Londinium cannot be decided in haste with mere words." Her gaze swept over the kneeling fairies.
The topic of the day's council was whether to begin a campaign against Londinium.
"Your Majesty means..." Spriggan raised his head slightly, cautious and probing.
"Let us first test Londinium's intentions," Morgan replied, her expression unreadable. "Who among you dares serve as my envoy to Londinium—to deliver the royal letter directly to the God King?"
The hall grew even quieter. None dared speak. To accept meant entering enemy territory alone, with little chance of returning alive.
"Your Majesty."
Melusine stepped forward.
"I am willing to act as Your Majesty's envoy, to travel to Londinium and gauge the God King's intent."
"Approved."
...
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