Miss Hebe is Slaughtering Her Way Out of the Lostbelt!

But when their armies were defeated, when they began to doubt themselves, or when they encountered those in higher positions within the system... their collapse became glaringly obvious.

Whether Red Dragon Duke or Lionheart, at their core, they had both been climbing Arthur's path—building a powerful Albion and making their royal authority and laws nearly eternal.

Yet the one who had once helped Arthur establish Albion with his own hands stood before them.

Whether in ability or status, they were completely suppressed by Merlin Ambrosius.

That utterly ordinary blade drew closer and closer, becoming ever more dazzling.

Yet it ultimately did not come any closer.

The black tower that had stood silently in the distance suddenly became incomparably tall. A cold, gloomy, destructive presence abruptly filled the center of the battlefield, like tar, making it difficult for the Twin Kings to breathe.

Hebe took a step back.

Without her realizing it, an enormous black lance laden with ill omen had stretched across before her.

Had she taken another two steps forward, she would have run straight into its tip.

The black lance lifted slightly. Only then did everyone see that there was another person standing at the center of the battlefield—a veiled woman.

She possessed an exceptionally tall, sensual figure, with her neck and lower abdomen exposed to the air. Her long legs were slightly parted, and her silvery-white hair fell smoothly down her back. Every other part of her body was tightly wrapped in black silk of unknown material, while bleak white wind and snow formed a pure white robe over her.

The tall woman's face bore an extreme resemblance to Arthur's, yet her pale eyes were filled with mockery and resentment.

The veil concealing her exquisite features had long since vanished. Suspended above her head was a dark crown.

It was a crown that proclaimed great achievements.

She was the Bewitching Consort, Morgan le Fay.

The other "Twilight" of the Path of Calamity.

They faced one another in silence, and even the air became exceedingly thick.

"Even at a time like this, you still want to serve Arthur?" Morgan's voice was hoarse. "Why have you never been willing to stand on my side?"

Hebe did not answer at once. She recalled the very beginning of her campaign through this Lostbelt.

Back then, Artoria was always bullied by the villagers, and it had been Morgan who came to stand up for her.

After Hebe had talked Artoria into drawing the Sword in the Stone, she had worried that Morgan would grow jealous, turn dark, and destroy Britain... but she had not. Morgan had continued to gently support Artoria as always, accompanying her on her pilgrimage to become a monarch.

To keep Morgan from walking down the path of darkness, Hebe had more or less forcibly brought her along.

They faced powerful enemies together, overcame hardships together, and huddled close together at nightfall, relying on each other's body heat for warmth... until, at the end of the pilgrimage, Arthur became the king who ruled Albion, while Hebe became the sage who assisted the king.

Morgan had always been that gentle yet steadfast elder sister.

Until Arthur tentatively confessed to her that she intended to appoint "Merlin" as queen.

"Twilight" was already an existence capable of remaining in the mortal world for a long time. Moreover, Merlin's achievements complemented Arthur's. There was no doubt she would become the finest subject, right hand, and companion.

"What... did you say?" Morgan had been sitting by the window then, with the setting sun's afterglow falling across her face.

The smile that had always rested on her face vanished.

After Arthur repeated her intentions a second time, Buckingham Palace collapsed.

Hebe had not been logged into the Secret History Simulator at the time, so she did not know the precise details of that battle. By the time she logged in again, several decades had already passed.

The deeply ironic part was that Morgan had clearly completed the pilgrimage alongside them, yet she had always remained merely an apprentice of the Enlightenment rank. After that battle, however, Morgan became a hero of the Daylight rank.

Or rather... an "Anti-hero."

The former Royal Sister had remade herself, and the name of the Bewitching Consort became known throughout the world.

When Arthur told Hebe about it, her eyes were full of exhaustion and disappointment. As for appointing a queen, everyone unconsciously set the matter aside and never mentioned it again.

After that, everything developed naturally, except Morgan never appeared before them again.

In the eyes of the others, Hebe's attitude became increasingly inscrutable, though her methods remained sharp and precise.

Hebe saw through Fallen Empress's Conspiracy one scheme after another, gradually dismantling every one of her methods.

Under Hebe's pressure, Mordred committed suicide in humiliation and rage. King Arthur defeated Morgan, the Bewitching Consort, at Swordrail and imprisoned her in the Tower of London... the Bewitching Consort's blueprint for destroying Albion was thus ruined.

Until now.

"The Twin Kings were your doing as well, weren't they, Royal Sister?" Hebe asked. "You used this rebellion to successfully push Albion to the brink of destruction, and then relied on that achievement to advance to Twilight."

The familiar form of address made the corner of Morgan's eye twitch slightly.

She looked at Hebe earnestly and carefully, gazing into those emerald-like eyes.

"So what?" she said. "All of this was mine by right."

Arthur's throne—and you as well, Morgan thought.

The Battle of Twilight (Please Bookmark—Really, Please Support It However You Can)

It seemed Morgan, the Bewitching Consort, was her great enemy in this Lostbelt.

—Defeat her, and this Lostbelt would be fully conquered.

The thought that she was about to complete the campaign filled Hebe with joy, and the corners of her lips unconsciously curved upward.

In contrast to her smile were her actions.

"No, I was never on your side." Hebe's tone was almost utterly flat. "I was only worried that you would set foot on the path of destroying Albion. That was all."

"At a time like this..."

"You misunderstand. I'm not concerned about you." Hebe, eager to get into the fight as soon as possible, cut her off in time. "What I mean is, if you choose to destroy Albion, then Arthur's achievements and mine will be ruined."

Then I'll have no choice but to enter the bad ending.

Though I could still choose to become Morgan's accomplice... Albion was, after all, something I'd watched being built. I did have some attachment to it.

If I put it that way, Morgan will probably make her move right away, won't she? Hebe thought.

The night suddenly seemed to deepen by several shades.

Morgan's face, which had held no trace of a smile to begin with, blended into the boundless darkness.

Her body leaned back slightly, yet what appeared before her eyes was the scene from their past pilgrimage, when the three of them had sat together by a campfire and dreamed of the future. Back then, Arthur had said that he wanted to build a nation where commoners could stand tall, while she had said that she would forever support whatever the two of them wished to do.

And what had that girl with deep green eyes said back then?

Ah, she remembered.

Sitting across from the campfire, she had worn a warm smile and softly said, "Everything will be fine. Everything will be in perfect order."

Morgan raised her palm, her slender fingertips drawing together.

The Fallen Empress's crown, symbolizing destruction, conflict, and the Royal Authority of the Island, transformed into a dim sun.

First Seal: Fairy Eye.

Second Imprint: Desired Charm.

Third Imprint: Lake's Blessing.

Fourth Seal: From the Limit.

The clouds in the night sky began to surge, then turned clear, only to darken again with astonishing speed. Like a gray, murky crystal, the clouds lay still as they amassed, growing ever heavier.

The lake was already suspended in the sky.

Not far before the Fallen Empress, the Sage casually tossed aside her sword.

Illusory pansies rose beneath Hebe's feet, transforming the battlefield into a sea of flowers in an instant.

The Court Mage's robe billowed behind her, revealing the girl's fair arm.

That slender hand curled, then extended a single finger, pointing at Morgan's eyes.

First Imprint: Illusion.

Second Imprint: Dreamlike Charm.

Third Imprint: Hero Creation.

What met the Sage's finger was a black lance burning with ominous black flames.

This was the final image Edward and Alistair were able to comprehend.

Rain suddenly began to fall from the sky. The raindrops froze into ice midair, and when they touched armor, weapons, and human bodies, they began to burn silently and swiftly.

The rain stopped.

The sea of flowers on the ground gave off a rich fragrance. Distance could no longer be distinguished; quite a few people who had already been sunk in slumber vanished out of thin air, while the rest gradually faded, like pencil marks erased by an eraser.

Deep blue lake water suddenly gushed out from underground, flooding the sea of flowers.

The surroundings abruptly seemed to lose all sense of reality. Heaven and earth inverted, the land surged upward at tremendous speed, and the daylight turned hazy. A gale carrying countless falling snowflakes swept in from afar, and in an instant, half a meter of snow had piled up on the ground.

Just as the snow was about to reach the Twin Kings' waists, dark violet flames began to burn quietly, melting the snow into a clear lake.

The dark violet flames burned, but their color suddenly changed. Having already meekly sunk into the water, they abruptly burst back out and pounced upon Edward.

Pff.

A dull sound rang out.

The armor worn by the Red Dragon Duke had originally been fashioned from evenly sized metal plates linked together. It offered excellent protection against both sword slashes and lance thrusts.

The flames, once dark violet and now blue-violet, swiftly burned the armor into a single piece, making it taller, more imposing, and heavier. Every gap at the joints was filled with metal, until not even the slightest opening remained.

Even ordinary human bodies contained various metals; beings of the "Daylight" rank contained even more. The noble once known as the "Red Dragon Duke" was replaced with liquid metal, swiftly and calmly merging into the armor.

Moments later, the flames rapidly went out. The tall, imposing armor fell backward, face turned toward the sky, leaving only three holes of differing sizes where its face had been.

The tranquil lake water swallowed the armor, while several iron-gray flower buds struggled free from the shallow water.

Alistair stared blankly at the sight. His skin rapidly cracked, and every strand of his golden hair stood on end. A rustling, scraping sound came from within his body.

He hunched over with difficulty, but his chest involuntarily thrust forward, as though something were forcefully pushing against his body.

Yet the lake water that had risen to his calves remained perfectly still, seemingly completely unaffected.

Alistair's muscles, skin, and clothing fused completely together, no longer distinguishable as outer or inner layers. Tufts of soft white fur sprouted from his eye sockets, ears, and nostrils, swaying like blades of grass.

The white fur grew ever more numerous and dense. The flesh and hair atop his head pressed tightly together, forming petal-like layers like those of a rose.

The petals layered atop one another, and at last, with a soft pop, blossomed.

A cold, emotionless voice fell from the sky to Alistair's ear.

"The Ideal Land Unreachable."

The clouds were gone. Never had the skies above London been so clear.

The sun arrived earlier than usual.

The wilderness that had once been a battlefield was now a lake beside a sea of flowers. Its waters were tranquil, a captivating turquoise blue. Deep purple pansies bloomed along the shore, looking from afar like a field of burning flames.

Hebe sat amid the flowers. There was not a single wound on her body, only a deathly pallor in her face.

She silently rose to her feet. Clear water dripped from her fingers, pattering down like autumn rain.

In mere moments, a shallow pool had formed beneath Hebe's feet.

Ripples distorted across the surface, forming words that only Hebe could see.

"The Twin Kings died violently, the Fallen Empress spilled blood, and the great army vanished into ashes. Albion has won once again. With the failure of this plan, Morgan will have no chance to make a comeback..."

"Yet the fuel sustaining King Arthur's life is also nearing exhaustion. When her kingship reaches its end alongside her lifespan, her immense achievements will reverse into a devastating calamity."

"No one won. Is this the ending you wanted?"

Hebe merely raised her hand and snapped her fingers.

The words formed by the ripples were forcibly altered, and new words emerged.

"Arthur's great undertaking is Albion. Morgan's great undertaking can only be fulfilled by destroying Albion. Merlin's great undertaking is to aid Arthur and bring all people's ideal blueprint to fruition."

"The rebellion Morgan started has once again brought Albion to the brink of destruction, bringing her great undertaking closer to completion than ever before."

"Yet in the struggle of great undertakings, you narrowly overcame Morgan, allowing Albion's embers to endure for the time being. Her great undertaking declined, while yours rose higher—higher than before."

Hebe Stanton / Merlin Ambrosius