Fate/Britain Lostbelt : Hero of Justice

Ainsel left the room as quietly as she had entered, not disturbing any other fairies.

However, once she was gone, Morgan collapsed onto the soft bed with a heavy thud. Without even removing her shoes, she hugged her staff tightly, her straight legs unconsciously swinging up and down, the heels of her shoes tapping rhythmically against the floor—tap, tap, tap.

"The corpse of the Last Dragon, Albion… and the two thousand years of hatred from the Northern Fairies. The fusion of these two into a single venomous embodiment… the true form of the Crimson Calamity. Shirou, perhaps what Ainsel said is right—perhaps I really will run away, afraid of the Calamity."

She stared blankly for a while before finally coming back to herself with a long sigh. She voiced her anxiety to Shirou.

The brave facade she had maintained in front of Ainsel had crumbled completely. But before Shirou, she didn't need to keep up appearances. In front of him, she could expose her most fragile side without worry.

To be honest, the truth Ainsel had revealed about the Great Calamity had indeed left Morgan feeling powerless.

After all, that was Albion—the Last Dragon, a being whose lifespan matched that of the planet itself, four-point-six billion years. Even if Albion's physical body was already dead, its lingering remains were far beyond what her current self could possibly withstand. Feeling powerless in the face of that—was only natural.

Among all the fairies in Britain, perhaps only a handful would be capable of resisting it.

Seeing Morgan so disheartened and dejected, Shirou felt a headache coming on. He hadn't been particularly shaken by hearing the name Albion—likely because he had no concept of what Albion truly was.

Is it ignorance that gives birth to courage?

Still, looking at Morgan, who now doubted even herself, Shirou knew he had to say something. If he didn't, there was no telling how long she'd remain stuck in despair.

"What's wrong? Already scared? —Morgan, are you the kind of bad fairy who lies to her friends?"

"…Hmph! That's only because you don't know just how terrifying Albion is!"

Morgan quickly lifted her head at Shirou's provocation, intending to argue. But because what he said was technically true, she could only puff up her cheeks in frustration and respond with a pout.

"I may not know how powerful Albion is, but I do remember the vow we made earlier today. Has it really not even been a single day, and you've already forgotten?"

"The vow…"

Hearing Shirou bring it up, Morgan was left speechless.

The vow they had exchanged earlier that day—that no matter the hardship, the two of them would face it together, hand in hand, and see their mission through to the end. And yet, not even a full day had passed before she began to fear the road ahead.

Morgan wasn't someone who made excuses. She knew this was her own failing. Her current weakness was nothing less than a betrayal of that vow.

"I mean, when you helped me project the Holy Lance, you weren't like this."

As Shirou spoke, he retrieved the Holy Lance leaning against the wall.

"Morgan, I believe in your magecraft. You are without a doubt the strongest fairy."

Shirou's voice was steady, his gaze unwavering. His words shone like sunlight, piercing directly into the heart of the golden-haired girl.

"'The strongest fairy,' isn't that a bit… much?"

Morgan responded instinctively, though her emotions had already been stirred by Shirou's words. Still, she held reservations in her heart.

Her magical energy was weak—even by fairy standards. That was a fact she couldn't escape from, no matter how much she thought about it.

"No other fairy could do it—only you can. That alone is reason enough."

Shirou didn't bother with further explanation. He responded firmly.

He placed the Holy Lance between them and grasped Morgan's left hand, placing it atop the lance's shaft together with his own.

"Didn't you just say this to Ainsel? —That Emiya Shirou possesses strength not to be underestimated. So… can't you trust me, the one who wields the Holy Lance?"

"But that's not—"

"You and I—we can do this."

Shirou spoke.

His voice was calm, but its effect was extraordinary. Morgan no longer tried to make excuses. She closed her eyes.

After a few seconds, she opened them again—and gone was the uncertain, timid fairy. In her place stood the Morgan Shirou remembered—bold, confident, and radiant with strength.

"Shirou, come with me again tomorrow to see Ainsel."

"To show her your resolve?"

"Not only that. I will request her to open the doors of the Bell Tower," Morgan said calmly. "Let the first step of the pilgrimage begin with the Mirror Clan."

"But before that—Shirou, you've got to help me properly tonight."

With a bright, mischievous smile, Morgan launched her counterattack.

Seeing that radiant smile calmed Shirou's heart, but it also sparked a sense of unease within him.

"Let me ask first—when you say 'help'… what exactly do you mean?"

"Obviously, we're going to test a new magecraft—using the knowledge of the Rain Clan combined with the Holy Lance you projected, I've already come up with an incredibly powerful magecraft. That's why you must work hard with me tonight."

"Ugh… wouldn't just using the Holy Lance directly be enough?" Shirou asked, sweat already starting to bead on his forehead. He had a bad feeling about this.

"Nope, not enough. You'll have to work with me the whole way—no breaks, Shirou. If the human using the Holy Lance doesn't have enough capability, I'll be the one in trouble. —Let's set a goal for tonight: Shirou, your use of magical circuits is still basic. By the end of tonight, you need to be proficient with ten… no, at least twenty magical circuits."

Morgan said this with a sweet smile, but the chill behind her words sent shivers down Shirou's spine. The target she set was brutal.

After all, Shirou had only mastered Reinforcement magecraft and Projection magecraft. Under normal circumstances, these spells consumed very little mana, requiring at most three or four circuits.

But Morgan was demanding twenty…

That kind of magical energy consumption—was she planning to have him project the Holy Lance again?

That wasn't entirely out of the question. Emiya Shirou could only project a limited number of times at the moment. However, through rigorous training and deeper mastery over his own magical circuits, the number of times he could perform Projection magecraft could increase.

Still, for Emiya Shirou, neither kind of training would be easy.

"…Alright, I'll do it."

Trusting his instincts, Shirou surrendered without resistance. He didn't argue with Morgan.

He himself had ambitions regarding his use of magical circuits. With Morgan's guidance, he wanted to take the opportunity to attempt projecting a new weapon.

Not the Holy Lance—but that golden sword.

If he could project that golden sword on his own, it would mark a huge step forward in his mastery of Projection magecraft—and a major stride on the path to becoming a proper magus… or even a magician.

Emiya Shirou was still chasing the back of the man who introduced him to this path—his adoptive father, the man who called himself a Magician, yet in truth, was only a Magus: Emiya Kiritsugu.

...

While Shirou and Morgan were training in preparation to confront the Great Calamity, Ainsel quietly walked through the Mirror Clan's town. Her expression was stiff, burdened with heaviness.

As chieftain of her clan, the pressure she carried was unimaginable for ordinary fairies. Even though she had already foreseen the path the future would take, the looming shadow of the Crimson Calamity still weighed heavily on her heart, leaving her anxious and uncertain.

"Clan Leader, I have returned."

As she walked, the silence of her surroundings was abruptly broken. The deep-indigo knight, Portunes, suddenly appeared.

"Portunes, did you successfully eliminate the wandering Moss?"

Ainsel wasn't startled by Portunes' sudden manifestation. For one, she had long since grown used to his ability to appear as if by teleportation. For another, she could always foresee the exact moment of his arrival.

"They've been dealt with. But if you'll forgive me, simply destroying the Moss won't resolve the Great Calamity," Portunes replied, his tone bearing little reverence. "What we need now is to confront and eliminate the source of the calamity."

"I understand what you're thinking, Portunes. But how are we supposed to deal with Albion's corpse?" Ainsel asked in return. "Even if we gathered the magical energy of the entire clan, we wouldn't be able to even dent the remains of the Last Dragon. You understand this, don't you?"

"I do. Which is exactly why—why haven't you ordered the fairies to evacuate?" Portunes responded sharply, prepared for the retort. "You hide the truth from the clan. You offer no solution to the root of the calamity. Ainsel—what exactly are you planning?"

"…Ordering you all to eliminate the nearby Moss was to clear the path for a retreat. Withholding the truth is to prevent mass panic—even if we Mirror Clan have known the hour of our deaths since the moment of our birth, if we were to suddenly encounter swarms of Moss, some of us could still be overwhelmed by fear and fall into corruption."

Unlike Portunes' pointed accusations, Ainsel answered with steady composure. But her careful reasoning did nothing to soothe Portunes' anger.

"You always have excuses, Ainsel. But no matter how much you say—what good does it do?" Portunes demanded. "Are you really still putting your hope in that so-called Paradise Fairy? —Don't be naïve. She's weaker than even a low-ranking fae. What right does she have?"

"…Portunes, you've been blinded by the future you've seen," Ainsel replied softly.

"I believe only in the future I've seen. Once this calamity ends—I'm leaving the Mirror Clan!"

His voice echoed through the empty streets. Portunes turned and vanished into the night, his figure fading in an instant.

His magecraft allowed him to manipulate mirror-space—by using reflections to displace his location, he could appear and disappear without warning.

Watching him go, Ainsel let out a slow, helpless sigh.

"…It's not like I don't want to change this fate of certain death."

"But what can I do?"

"I'm the chieftain of my clan… yet I have no power to stop the calamity. And the Paradise Fairy—our only hope—has yet to even begin her pilgrimage."

Ainsel whispered into the cold air, voice full of regret. She wanted to change fate, but she didn't know where to start.

This Great Calamity would not annihilate the entire clan. But it would still take many lives. She had foreseen it all. She had resolved to do everything she could to minimize the losses.

And yet… everything she did felt utterly futile. She knew—one person alone could not rewrite fate.

In the midst of her self-reproach, a sharp pain suddenly pierced Ainsel's mind. She immediately understood—she was seeing the future once more.

"——No way. The future has actually… changed?"

But this time, what Ainsel saw was a fate completely different from anything she had ever seen before.

....

"Haa… Just how many times have I tried projecting now?"

Shirou closed his eyes, enduring the sweat trickling down his brow, focusing his entire mind and body on yet another attempt at Projection magecraft—he'd already lost count.

His right arm emitted a faint glow, radiating the heat of a burning crimson lotus. The illusion he conjured slowly began to take shape through sheer concentration.

What was forming was a heavy knight's sword, bathed in golden light—radiating solemn majesty befitting a sacred blade.

But—

"Tch, failed again."

The golden sword, which had almost fully materialized, vanished in an instant. Shirou let out a ragged breath and collapsed backward, lying on the ground until his breathing finally settled.

He didn't understand why it was so difficult to project this golden sword. Every time, it fell apart just before completion.

—He could manifest the outward shell of the sword, yes. But that alone was meaningless. What he sought was to project a golden sword with both its form and performance intact.

"Where exactly am I going wrong…?"

Regaining his composure, Shirou muttered to himself.

By his own intuition, he believed that projecting the golden sword should be far less demanding than projecting the Holy Lance.

And yet, the Holy Lance had succeeded in a single try—while the golden sword failed repeatedly.

"I had Morgan's help when I projected the Holy Lance… But this golden sword—who can I turn to?"

Obviously, no one could give him that answer. Shaking off unnecessary thoughts, he turned his gaze toward Morgan.

Compared to Shirou, Morgan's progress was in a whole different league.

One of her hands gripped the Holy Lance's shaft, while the other held a mirror. Her lips moved silently in incantation, magical energy circulating visibly through her body.

"Combining the Holy Lance with the Mirror in magecraft… If she pulls it off, that would be a high-order Grand-scale spell."

Recalling Morgan's concept, Shirou couldn't help but admire her genius.

If she succeeded, the Holy Lance would become a bombardment-class Mystic Code capable of ranged devastation… If she succeeded.

"But it doesn't look like she'll finish it anytime soon."

With that thought, Shirou shifted his attention back to his own body—specifically, the active magic circuits within.

Out of a total of twenty-seven magic circuits, about two-thirds were still dormant. But nine of them were now at a usable level.

That alone marked significant progress for Emiya Shirou tonight. From using three to four circuits, to nine—he had improved considerably.

Even if he hadn't quite reached the goal Morgan had initially set.

"If I were doing this alone, I'd probably need a full month of training to get this far. Once again… I'm reminded of what it means to be a prodigy."

Shirou chuckled wryly to himself. Half of this success was thanks to the magical link he and Morgan shared via their contract—the mana feedback loop had significantly accelerated his circuit activation.

"My total mana capacity is rising fast. Right now, my max output should be around seventy, maybe even eighty units."

"Normally, a single Reinforcement spell uses two units. A Projection takes five. That means, theoretically, I can now project nearly twenty times."

Even though his Projection training had ended in failure, the progress he'd made with his circuits offered some comfort.

"Still… compared to Sakura's one thousand units, or Tohsaka's five hundred, I'm barely catching up."

"But then again… each circuit can only hold seven to eight units at most. Even if I fully awakened all twenty-seven of them, my theoretical maximum would be around two hundred."

"No wonder Kiritsugu said I lacked talent in magecraft… The gap is just too wide."