"Hm? A tool?"
Hearing this, Artoria blinked, and then suddenly grinned:
"What, I was saving it to surprise you all at a critical moment, but since I've been called out, I'll just take it out now!"
As she spoke, she reached into her pocket and pulled out a small pocket watch.
Tadaa! It's Artoria's amazing gadget—the Time Reversal Pocket Watch!
"Time Reversal Pocket Watch? How does it work? Sounds pretty powerful." Guinevere raised an eyebrow and asked.
"It's very simple. Just press this pocket watch once to record a moment in time for yourself."
Holding the watch aloft, Artoria began to explain seriously:
"Then, all of your current states will be locked and recorded by the watch. Within the next twenty minutes, as long as someone presses the button again, the person who recorded their state will be forcibly returned to exactly that saved moment."
"As for drawbacks, there are two. First, it can only be used once—afterward it breaks. Second, it must be pressed again within twenty minutes. If you miss the time limit, the recorded state disappears and can't be used."
"So powerful?" Guinevere was shocked. "That's basically a one-time full restore and a lifesaver talisman!"
"Heh heh~" Being praised, Artoria proudly puffed out her chest. "Super amazing, right!"
"Last time, when Noknarel and the others and I were being hunted down so badly, I reflected on it. The biggest issue was that my Supreme Sovereign transformation time was too short. So over the past few days, when I crafted gadgets, I focused on things related to clocks and time. Unfortunately, time was short, so my luck only got me this one reversal watch… But with it, it's basically like my Sovereign transformation lasts an extra twenty minutes. I can do so much more!"
"Oh, not bad indeed." Guinevere nodded in agreement, then looked back at Artoria. "So then… do you have any other magical tools?"
"Eh?" Artoria froze.
"There can't just be this one, right? Every time before, you'd always pull out a pile of different gadgets. Surely you have more?"
"Uh…"
Being pressed, Artoria awkwardly turned her head away.
"W-well, this time, I've just been too caught up with all kinds of things… I didn't really have much time to gamble for more…"
"Hah?" Hearing this, Noknarel frowned. "No time? These days, you still had time to make that watch while defending the city. And before that? Before I dragged you all to Camelot? Weren't you just holed up in your room most of the time? I thought you were researching, so I didn't disturb you."
"She was just napping," Bagst said flatly. "I looked for her a few times then. Every time I found her, she was either eating or sleeping. Honestly, she seemed in really good spirits…"
Artoria scratched her cheek awkwardly. "It's just… well, the Sovereign Belt is so strong, right? Most of the time, it solves our problems better than those weird gadgets I have to spend forever making, and even then they don't always work. So this time I didn't bother so much with new inventions…"
Finally, she muttered under her breath:
"And besides, before Mors's curse suddenly erupted, everything was going so smoothly. I didn't think we really needed more gadgets…"
"Ugh, I should have known. You can't be counted on to improve yourself without someone supervising." Noknarel sighed. "So all this time, you've just been fattening up."
"Eh? No way! I haven't gained weight at all!"
Hit where it hurt, Artoria's face flushed bright red. She stomped her feet angrily, protesting with things like, "I've always been this way!" and "You only saw me sleeping because you came at the wrong time—look at yourself first!" Her flustered outburst made everyone chuckle, and the tense atmosphere before battle eased slightly.
"…So, you broke me out of prison just to let me watch this farce?" At this moment, Woodworth, who had been silent for a long time, suddenly spoke coldly.
When everyone had mobilized the city's defenses and Bavinci had escorted them out, someone finally remembered Woodworth, who had been left rotting in the dungeons, and brought him along.
"…You should be able to see what's spilling out of that great hollow." Noknarel said slowly. "Soon, something very terrible will come out. A god only told of in the origin myths of the Fairy Kingdom—the Celtic beast god, the very source of our calamities."
"Heh, don't tell me you're naive enough to think I'll help you. You dragged me out here, huh? Looks like you rebels really are cornered at last."
Seeing their dire situation at a glance, Woodworth sneered. "We're still enemies. Don't think you can order me around, you damned traitor."
"I don't want to order you. I just want to tell you a simple fact." Unmoved by his taunts, Noknarel shook her head.
"That thing in the hollow has always been Morgan's greatest enemy. The only reason she kept her throne by Camelot's hollow for two thousand years without leaving was to watch and guard against it. Its very existence has bound Morgan for millennia."
Woodworth's gaze suddenly sharpened.
Seeing his reaction, Noknarel pressed on:
"I don't know why Morgan hasn't appeared, but I do know this—she will never want to see the Fairy Kingdom she built destroyed by the enemy she guarded against for so long. Whatever grudge she has with Queen Mab of the North is secondary. If the kingdom itself is gone, then when your mistress returns, where will she even rule?"
"…Tch. Fine, I understand." After a long silence, Woodworth gritted his teeth. "I'll fight alongside you against what's coming. But don't think this means we're allies. It's just another calamity—I've defeated plenty before. After we kill it, I'll slaughter you next."
"…Is that so?" Guinevere, glancing at the countdown now down to mere seconds, suddenly said, "Look behind you. I hope you can still say that after seeing its true form."
As he finished speaking, a primordial roar split the air.
A curse festering for ten thousand years suddenly erupted from the hollow, black miasma spewing upward like a geyser, flooding in every direction.
And as the black fog swept forth, everyone's faces changed at once—this was no mere mist, no vague omen. It was a pure, tangible, essence-level curse.
"Everyone, behind me!"
Just before the deadly miasma engulfed them, a roar rang out. A figure streaked toward them, landing squarely in front. With a spin of his staff-turned-spear, he drove it into the ground.
Golden light erupted, forming a shining barrier before them, damming the onrushing curse like a flood.
"Grimm? You're still alive?!"
Recognizing that signature blue hair and his habit of using a staff as a spear, Guinevere gasped.
"Fuck you! What do you mean still alive, brat? Even if you died, I wouldn't!"
While weaving a complex anti-curse magic circle, the man cursed back without turning his head.
"I've been rushing nonstop from Orkney for days to get here, and the moment I arrive, you throw me that kind of line? Are you even human?"
At this critical moment, the one who came to support them—of course—was Grimm.
After helping them defeat Woodworth before, he had learned from Artoria that she seemed ready to abandon her pilgrimage. Without a word, Grimm had disappeared. Everyone understood—his only role was to guide the prophesied child, so his departure made sense. They never mentioned him again. None of them expected him to reappear now, at the most perilous hour, to aid them.
"Alright, I've cast the highest-level anti-curse miracle over you all!" As golden light shimmered around each of them, a faint aura cloaking their bodies, Grimm finally turned back.
"Seriously, what were you thinking? Taking on a beast-god with zero anti-curse prep? Not afraid you'll keel over before even scratching it?"
Normally, Guinevere would snap back at his mockery. But not this time.
Because he had seen it.
From the hollow, after that first wave of curse eruption, vast black hands began emerging—just like the ones they'd seen in Norwich.
But unlike then, it wasn't just one. One after another, those enormous hands clawed out, gripping the earth around the hollow—or rather, gripping everyone's hearts.
One, then another, then another. Soon, there were ten. Then a hundred.
Even before the true body appeared, the sheer number of curse-born hands suffocated everyone.
Then, between them, a massive, elk-like pair of sharp antlers rose slowly into view, towering into the sky.
Beneath those antlers, a colossal body emerged, its looming shadow covering all of Camelot and casting despair into every heart.
Even Woodworth, who had just sworn bravado, now found his breath choked off. For the first time in his thousand-year existence, a feeling he had never known pressed down on him—fear.
At that moment, the countdown before Guinevere's eyes reached its end. The familiar parchment materialized, along with the sigil of the entity.
["The Calamity of Curses" descends]
As flames consumed everything, its true name appeared as well:
[Cernunnos]