White Castle.
A month after Vortigern's demise, Artoria launched a formal plan to rebuild the fortress city.
With the original structures reduced to ash, reconstruction proceeded swiftly. In just three months, a true royal city rose... a testament to the era.
Eighty percent of the credit belonged to Alaric, or rather, the phantasmal species under his command.
Earth fairies.
These creatures excelled at construction, wielding the miraculous ability to conjure square marble blocks from thin air. They could even enchant the stones, granting buildings properties like "defensive barriers" And "evil detection"... both beautiful and practical.
This city, built by humans and fairies together, stood as a symbol of the age, rising on an island freed from apocalyptic peril.
"Look at this magnificent city!" Every visitor exclaimed.
"Only such grandeur befits our great king and our divine god!"
They sang praises of this glorious era and nation.
And so, they could bask in over a decade of peace with peace of mind.
White Castle, Temple of Light.
A slightly unusual day.
Having just celebrated her thirtieth birthday, Artoria... no longer a "girl" in age or stature... entered the nexus connecting the World's Surface to the Reverse Side.
"Hey, big sis!" She called, spotting Morgan in the temple's side hall, engrossed in some task.
Beside her sat Vina, scratching her head as if grappling with a puzzle.
Morgan responded to Artoria's greeting with a cold huff, then turned to adjust two bottles of murky, ominous magecraft potions in Vina's hands. Predictably, a storm of scolding followed, punctuated by Vina's sheepish "hehe" laughter.
"She doesn't seem to have much talent for magecraft." Artoria noted, continuing toward the temple's rear garden.
There, she found Alaric teasing Fou, the white beast rolling on the grass.
Unlike Artoria, whose appearance had transformed dramatically with age, Alaric remained unchanged, the same as he was over a decade ago.
This eased the worry that had long weighed on her heart.
She'd feared Alaric couldn't withstand the island's curses and rage, but his current state proved her concerns unnecessary.
Alaric was thriving... exceptionally so.
As Camelot expanded, so did his power. His divine radiance now reached every corner of the island, with both divine and royal authority at their zenith.
This was partly why Vina suddenly wanted to learn magecraft.
With the gradual restoration of "aether" in the air, the island had returned to the mid-Age of Gods: crop yields soared, phantasmal species multiplied, and humans' sensitivity to magical energy sharpened.
Morgan, holding half the island's mystical dominion, was the first to reap these "Age of Gods benefits." She befriended the Ladies of the Lake, studying fairy magecraft, and her power surged. In just a few years, she became the island's second Great Mage.
As for Vina's impulsive desire to learn magecraft, only to struggle due to lack of talent and earn Morgan's ire... Alaric could only shrug. The Blue-Eyes lineage wasn't built on magecraft. Quite the opposite: Blue-Eyes White Dragons were known for blasting mages!
"Let her be." Alaric said.
"She's keeping herself busy, which gives me some peace."
"By the way, why are you here? What nonsense has that magus fed you now?"
Seeing Artoria at the garden's entrance, Alaric scooped up the rolling Fou, questioning her with certainty.
He didn't know her exact purpose, but he was sure Merlin was behind it.
Otherwise, Artoria wouldn't be standing there, hesitating with such an awkward posture.
"It's Merlin's idea, but I asked him first." She admitted.
"Well… he did provide the information."
"It's about the Holy Grail!"
A momentous term spilled from Artoria's lips.
Alaric had to admit, the mention of "Holy Grail" briefly dazed him.
But he quickly realized Artoria's Holy Grail wasn't the "Heaven's Feel" crafted by Fuyuki's Three Families... it was the genuine article, said to have held the Messiah's blood.
Legend held that this cup, imbued with immense divine power, wandered the world after the Messiah's ascension, eventually hidden on Britain's shores by a saint.
"I asked Merlin, even though crop yields have returned to Age of Gods levels, the island's population far exceeds that era. Is there a way to further increase harvests?"
"He said it's impossible... unless matched by a miracle of equal magnitude."
Artoria explained the context briefly.
"So, you want to find the Holy Grail? Send knights to search, or go yourself?" Alaric asked, nodding.
He didn't know the Grail's location, but if it truly existed on the island, finding it shouldn't be too difficult.
"No need to search." Artoria replied.
"???"
"Merlin says we're fortunate. The island's current state meets the conditions for the Holy Grail to manifest on its own... but he mentioned I'd need to perform some magecraft ritual at the Tower of Radiance."
"Do you know what kind of ritual that is?"
"…"
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