Hello again! Welcome to another chapter!

An IRL update: I'm changing jobs right around this week, so I was unsure about this story's update speed going forward. But it turns out there's nothing to worry about and things will go on as usual. The drafts for future chapters have gotten to a point where I'm even contemplating posting double chapters every now and then! But I think I'll stick with the current bi-monthly schedule.

Thank you for you readers, as always!

one below all, Overcatch0, Ultimate Warrior of Zera: Thank you! I worked a lot on her characterization, in an AU way of what happens if she's never alone in her immortal life.

- Sob… Sob… Sob…

'M-Maybe I'm being too harsh…'

Morgan began to doubt herself as she watched her younger sister kneeling on the wooden bathroom floor, fully naked, shivering due to excessive crying and self-loathing. They both had similarly-pale skin, so it's hard to judge whether the fervent red blush spreading across Altria's face was due to her bawling, the near-superheated temperature of the enchanted bath, or the fact being naked in front of Morgan excited her this much it'd arouse her nonetheless.

'Has Altria always been this c-cute…?'

That said, sitting high and looking down on Altria like this felt… good…?

Noticing she's becoming restless herself, Morgan repeatedly crossed her still-clothed legs several times, noticing and enjoying how, through the tears and snot, Altria's gaze still lingered on her every movement. 'It's as if I'm the succubus instead of Master Merlin…' she laughed internally. 'So easy… Am I that beautiful in her eyes?'

- Sob… Sob… Sob…

She had to admit, if that latter thought was true, then she was immensely flattered. It struck just the right chord in the remaining part of Morgan which still retained her original familial love… and the one she'd immediately assign a separate clone to manage, if she couldn't outright erase it.

The development of her [Warrior] aspect, Tonelico, was going well. If she could fully integrate and lead the six faerie clans, then [Avalon le Fae] would certainly be designated her 'main body', leaving this [Maiden] body, the one born as Morgan Pendragon from Igraine's womb, as the one to handle all these soppy emotional aspects.

In this era, following the previous Age of Gods, homunculi weren't some sort of lower-class reproduction of life, treated as nothing more than mindless dolls or livestock, but no different than the rest of humanity if they sufficiently showed an independent enough soul and mental capacity. In fact, a lot of past famous figures were homunculi, such as the first king consort of Babylonia, Enkidu, who along with his partner Gilgamesh orchestrated the first decline of the Age of Gods, or Pandora who was currently serving Cernunnos. In fact, most of the time, the first humans who populated a Texture were technically homunculi as well, viewed from a Divine Spirit's perspective. It's due to the latter's disappearance and the former's emergence as the leading sentient species on the planet did homunculi became viewed as lowly beings… though obviously these were the ones humans produced, instead of the masterclasses the ancient Phantasmal Species could 'birth' just by breathing.

Hence, what Morgan was doing… or, to be more precise, the private and public perceptions of what she's doing were a far cry from modern-day magi from a low-Mystery reality, where resorting to move oneself from one homunculus to another, or duplicating oneself, or controlling multiple selves at once were seen as desperate moves. The leader of this branch of Magecraft in this future, Tōko Aozaki, didn't even have an apprentice to pass on her techniques, such was how unpopular this route was, in stark contrast to her younger sister who had lines upon lines of potential students, eager to learn any shred of her Fifth Magic.

- Sob… Sob… Sob…

"I'm sorry… I'm sorry… I'm sorry… I'm sorry… I'm sorry… I'm sorry… I'm sorry…"

The flood of tears had mostly stopped, though the corners of Altria's eyes were still oh-so-very moist. Morgan had seriously underestimated how large her younger sister's tear ducts were, how dramatic Altria's inclination of guilt was, and how much she's hating herself now.

"I'm sorry… I'm sorry… I'm sorry… I'm sorry… I'm sorry… I'm sorry… I'm sorry…"

She's been repeating this annoying mantra for well over an hour now, and Morgan was forced to teleport them straight to their shared inn room while leaving only an emergency message to Sir Ector and Kay, pretending there's an accident she had to immediately isolate Altria from them occurring. They were located quite far from the training location she'd chosen earlier because that lake wasn't exactly a tourist spot, and they had to stay in a place close to where the local quest board was. Hence, it'd be a while before the two men arrived, especially because they travelled there on foot while doing quests along the way.

"I don't mind you getting interested in warm bodies with your age, Altria… but there's an occasion to everything, you know?"
"The fact you're sneaking around disgusts me."
"You admit to pleasuring yourself with my spent clothes, hm?"
"I wonder what kind of atrocities you imagine doing to me, or being done to me by others, in your mind."
"You don't love me; you just see me as a hole to fulfil your perverted desires!"

These were the poisonous 'choice' sentences she'd prepared beforehand, which she intermittently spat out during Altria's various apologies.

"I'm sorry… I'm sorry… I'm sorry… I'm sorry… I'm sorry… I'm sorry… I'm sorry…"

"Keep this up, and not only me, but everyone else will hate you."

That word – [Hate] – perhaps had the largest reaction out of Altria. As someone who grew up without knowing the faces of either of her parents, she only had the identities of 'older sister' and 'annoying-but-lovely mentor' to cling on to. Sir Ector, who'd been there for practically her entire life, was a tertiary addition. Yes, her life hadn't been absent of love, but it's precisely because there's such little precious amount she grasped onto it with all her life.

Simply utter the possibility of Morgan leaving Altria, and it'd leave the latter scrambling and begging at the floor, refusing to let go.

To be frank, Morgan was more disappointed in herself. How could she be so blind before? How could she not see it this easily? Instead, the instant she found out everyone's conspired to place Altria above her, she allowed herself to be consumed by anger, disappointment, despair, and childish vengeance. What was she planning to do? Let herself wallow and got lost, then craft some sort of overly-complex, high-risk, low-gain plot just to let Altria taste a smidgeon of what she's feeling?

Truly an unfathomable outburst from her part. Why didn't she think of this first? In front of her wasn't the hardened warrior, politician, and butcher of lives Alaya had shown her and Merlin, who'd readily throw Guinevere to the gallows if that enabled her to become a more perfect king in her own very subjective opinion? Well, she'd like to think Altria loved her more than that woman who, despite being a perfectly-decent match and well-thought out choice, was nonetheless a political arrangement.

It's the most basic of basics when dealing with living beings with a cock: lead them by that very same organ.

A cruel and heartless choice, but not nearly enough for her irrationally-loving side to get in the way.

"Look at me," she commanded.

She sounded quite ridiculous even to her own ears, as her vocal cords were nowhere near developed enough to produce the intimidating, deep voice she thought she'd emit. Still, it got the job done, as Altria stopped staring at how her shapely legs were moving and stiffly faced her.

"Shift closer."

Altria was kneeling on the floor, yet the discomfort her legs should be feeling was absent, and she smoothly accomplished the order. Morgan tried her best to maintain a stern, disappointed face, careful not to let a shred of [Hate] through and making sure Altria felt the full impact of a mature scolding… but it's hard to do so when her younger sister's cute cock was standing up, fully erect and demanding attention. The tip was a light pink, similar to her erect nipples, signifying their still immature-state, unlike Morgan's own which were growing darker and redder each year. Just the foremost part of Altria's gland poked through the phimosis, its slit leaking precum, somehow maintaining a constant state of arousal despite the clear grief she's feeling.

Morgan had little doubt her younger sister's equally-young snatch was also leaking fluids onto the floor, but it's hard to confirm with the latter's legs in the way and the hard-to-stain wooden material underneath her. Her magus side was clearly interested in how much Altria's natural and modified body parts were influencing each other, obviously pumping hormones and blood to inappropriate places at inappropriate times… like right now. However, the aforementioned [Maiden] side of her, which still loved Altria so, was making her similarly hot and bothered, eager to have a taste of that delicious-looking tender meat poking out of the middle of Altria's clasped thighs.

A few minutes ago, this one thought shamefully made itself loud and clear in her head, 'Why am I so horny lately?' First the criminally-underage redheaded toddler, and now her own sister…? Was this her 'type', as Merlin indicated?

"Repeat to me my conclusion of your… mistakes," she ordered next.

- Pata.

One foot, still clad in a travelling sock, extended towards Altria's chin, placing itself underneath so she couldn't look away. Inadvertently, and intentionally, it gave the younger sibling a great view towards Morgan's forbidden triangle, a glimpse of her underwear visible underneath the overlapping thigh flesh. Oh, how she enjoyed seeing the lump of saliva go down Altria's throat, a symbol of her burgeoning success…

Ahem. Best not get carried away.

Altria stopped her hiccups, stuttering out, "Y-You don't h-hate me."

"Continue."

"Y-You're disappointed in my choice of s-sexual release."

"Indeed. Go on."

"I won't do it a-again without your p-permission."

"Good."

Pretending to sigh in distress, Morgan added, "Perhaps you haven't realized it, but this behaviour will bring you trouble when you get married, Altria. The Pendragon Clan is still unrecognized across Britannia, and the two of us will have to secure alliances via marriage. What will you do if various noble girls and princesses see you like this? They'll immediately ask for both your head and… that thing to be chopped off, and our family will suffer in turn. Do you understand?"

- …

What came back was an inaudible mumble to most, but having paid attention to Altria's lips, Morgan quickly figured out what she was trying to half-say, half-hide. She had to admit once again she was happy with the results she's having.

"Speak clearly!" She hissed, jerking her chin upwards with her toes.

"Then I'll just marry you when I grow up!"

- …

'Ah, I think my acting this time is decent enough,' Morgan silently evaluated, judging how well she's putting up a mixture of emotions across her face from Altria's reactions. Mostly shock and surprise, followed by traces of an underlying and upcoming rejection to incite Altria's fear of being left alone once again. "Y-You… Do you know what you're saying?!"

"I do!" She resolutely stared right at her older sister's eyes. "You said 'what if'… There's no 'what if' for me, because I don't feel this way towards another girl! I love you, Sister! I love you the most in the world! I never even glanced at another girl with the intention to… to…"

She was about to say 'masturbate', but caught herself from uttering such a vulgar word in front of Morgan.

Shaking her head furiously, because she knew Morgan would interrupt her if she hesitated, she continued, "The Pendragon Clan has no need for alliances, because I know you'll make a far better ruler than our father! And… And if you found another man you fancy, I'll always be there to support you… but I won't marry! There's no other woman I can possibly love other than you!"

With every word coming out of her mouth, her heart sank lower and lower. Altria observed Morgan made several kinds of expressions… except for acceptance.

In fact, her confession wasn't anything too unusual. Incest was a typical practice among royalties and nobles, though in contrast to what Altria was trying to achieve, it was usually the opposite: an older generation forcing the younger to marry among themselves without taking into account their emotions for outsiders. To be fair, this was mostly because brothers, sisters, and cousins of different genders were raised separately from each other, interacting only in occasional family gatherings. It's rare for siblings like Altria and Morgan who spent their entire lives right next to each other, living in the same room and experiencing the same things.

Altria's lips quivered in dread at the upcoming rejection when Morgan covered her face's lower half with one palm, eyes closed shut in concentration. In her eyes, her older sister was merely trying to find the best, gentlest words to turn her down, much like how Morgan scolded and teased Altria for her sexual attraction. 'Did… she think my feelings are just flights of fancy because of my growth…?' She concluded. 'I have to be more sincere!'

Before she could do so, however, the figurative knife descended upon her hopes.

"You lie," Morgan accused coldly, bringing down the temperature of the steaming bathroom. "I don't have patience for your attempts to run from responsibility, Altria. You-"

"I'M NOT!"

Phew. It seemed choosing to do an intentional emotional outburst managed to buy her more speaking time. "Tell me what I have to do to prove my love! I'll do it in a heartbeat, without hesitation!" Altria declared.

Her heart was beating furiously, even faster than the times she sullied her sister's figure with her desires, feeding more and more blood to her brain just so she could prepare an answer to anything Morgan might've requested.

Her older sister began… by shaking her head in disappointment. "You don't know this, but… there's plenty of young men from our neighbouring kingdoms who said the exact same thing to me. Much more eloquently, too." She shrugged her shoulders. "And none of them is sincerely speaking from their heart; instead, their cocks do."

"But I-"

"Boys our age, dashing young knights, perverts older than our father… All of them are the same," Morgan casually admitted. "Do you think you are different? In fact, what you are thinking and doing to my naked figure in your head are mild. I assure you, their imaginations about what they'll do to me if they receive my hands in marriage are far worse." She sighed again. "That's my fate, in the end. To be a plaything to people like you, Altria. So forgive me if I think your confession is both immature and insincere."

- …

Altria hung her head low, her brain unable to fabricate how much better and different she was to all those bastards. While her head was failing in overdrive, her heart was burning with jealousy – 'Who? How? What? When? Those people who dare approach Sister… I'll kill them all!' – thinking of the various cruel ways she'd dismember their bodies and display their organs to the public. This was the first time she'd heard of this! How could those letters make their way to Morgan's hands, when all they did was travel around?! Was it Sir Ector?! Or that damned Kay?!

When her body temperature had cooled down in the next few seconds, it managed to completely degrade her intelligence in the process, leading her to say, "Soul geas."

"Pardon?"

"Put a geas in my soul. I'll be yours… forever," Altria fervently begged. That was a good verbal description as well, since their position – the younger sister kneeling on the floor, the older one seated one level higher, legs stretched to shame the former with the latter's foot. "They see you as a treasure to collect, a reward to conquer, a doll to play with…"

"…but then you're no different then my slave," Morgan pointed out.

"I don't mind," the younger princess decided. "Even if you don't reciprocate my feelings, even if you want to throw me away, even if you'll gift me to another like an inanimate object… I'll follow you, Sister."

"Haa… You're just a lovesick fool."

"One who's in love with you, with everything I am, Sister," Altria's expression was full of conviction. Bravely, she shifted even further forward on her knees, clasped Morgan's extended ankles from underneath her own jaw, and kissed her foot tenderly. "I, Altria Pendragon, pledge myself to you."

Despite her confidence, she observed her older sister's expression with trepidation. Would Morgan lash out with this very same soft foot she's holding onto as if she's some kind of disgusting pervert? Would Morgan summon the hot water beside them to boil her alive?

Her heart leapt when instead of those two things – or other much worse things – Morgan came down from her elevated seat and hugged Altria tight.

"You're still a fool. Someone like me… shouldn't be loved by anyone."

For the first time this day, ever since she began bawling her eyes out in remorse, Altria chuckled. "That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard. How can anyone not?"

"Then, close your eyes."

Altria did so, before feeling Morgan's fingers began to trail down her shoulders. One set of five stopped right above her heart, her older sister's fingertips forming a rough circle as if she was about to gouge said organ out. The other set of five rotated and settled right around her navel, the fingertips stopping in the exact same way. Altria felt an oh-so-familiar Od flow through those ten channels, burning not just her skin, but all the way to her spiritual core. She expected it to feel like barbed chain, symbolic of the pact she just made, but as always with her sister, it felt so comfortable – more like thick velvet bands wrapping themselves around her.

- Chu.

"S-SISTER…?!"

Altria jumped backwards a touch in disbelief. Her fingers traced her own lips, trying to ascertain the earlier sensation's reality.

But Morgan had a better way to do so, as she easily caught up with the reeling little sister, grabbed the latter's face, and pierced Altria's lips with her tongue.

- Munyu. Munyu. Munyu.

In Merlin's experience, such onomatopoeia was usually reserved for the sound her pert breasts made when they're being rubbed romantically and gingerly. However, right now, she couldn't help but let the flames of jealousy in her heart blaze when watching what's happening in front of her.

Shirō's face, still clad in copious amount of baby fat and at the stage where he's just at the perfect blend of childish innocence and mature handsomeness, was clasped between Pandora's palms, rubbing the cheeks up and down, stretching them left fo right, poking them in and out occasionally. The boy, usually rather apprehensive against Merlin's physical advances, sat calmly, his silver eyes blazing since the moment this intruder made herself known in Avalon, analysing what on earth had possessed this usually cynical and pessimistic woman into a cute-craze.

"I've been looking for you… my entire life, hero," Pandora feverishly uttered right to his small face, her breath containing the heat of [Life] she'd long despised.

As someone who'd lost her [Death], anything which provided her with the thrill of demise immediately interested her, though she made sure to keep it away from actually influencing her wider decisions. It's quite ironic… the strong emotions she's feeling towards the boy right now should be [Hate], but…

The intense gaze emanating from her eyes was closer to [Worship]. For someone who technically held her [Death].

- Munyu. Munyu. Munyu.

With his cheeks being constantly massaged, it's hard for Shirō to speak without distorting his voice. Still, because he knew the other party wasn't going to antagonize him, he remained calm. Pandora's Conceptual Weight, after several millennia, was enough for him to have the urge to override Avalon and summon Unlimited Blade Works right here and now, despite his body being far from ready for such a burden. "Ah, I'm shy, so please don't call me as a 'hero'. After all, I did leave you behind… not even learning of your name. I'm ashamed, miss," he humbly spoke, being careful to manage Pandora's expectations.

How could he not know of her? But she and Merlin didn't know that, so it's better he pretended he'd still forgotten her existence, and avoid revealing his connection to the Akashic Records. After all, it's not a lie – he genuinely had little impression of everyone involved in that battle with Velber, and had to brush up his knowledge from Akasha.

"I am Pandora, great he- Ahem," she both introduced and interrupted herself, "s-sir. Please, will you do me a favour?"

"What is it?"

"TEI!"

- Pata!

Between their too-close faces, a milky-white palm suddenly chopped to break their line of sight.

Merlin warned, "Pandora, stand back! I won't allow any debauchery around here!" Her slim figure had knelt right beside them, her face as stern as possible. "His first time is mine, so back off!"

Shirō couldn't see the blonde's expression, but he's sure she's mimicking his, having the word 'hypocrisy' written all across their faces. Her hands were still mushing his cheeks together, though.

Seeing this, Merlin even made the effort to wrap Pandora with a flurry of flower petals and separate the two, then stand in front of the little Shirō like a guard dog. "What do you want when you decide to come here in the first place? Speak!"

It's clear the blonde priestess had a different agenda than simply pampering the redheaded boy when she first came in, but she immediately lost all control the instant she saw his face and quickly grasped him within her hands. Merlin wasn't sure what the history between them was, but the fact this priestess constantly spoke of 'hero' this and 'hero' that could only meant Pandora was one of the direct witnesses to that legendary battle at the start of living civilization.

Not that she's interested. She might be responsible with teaching both Morgan and Altria history, but even she herself wanted to fall asleep whenever she heard the recording of her own voice in this class. Altria certainly did so plenty of times, but of course her star student was too studious and ambitious to do so, absorbing even the useless titbit Merlin slipped in occasionally, then smack Merlin upside the head when she found out.

Those were good decade-plus years spent together, as she first initiated her original, now-cancelled plan.

"Tsk. What a troublesome woman," Pandora grumbled. "Someone as slutty as you shouldn't even be allowed within the same continent as this… great man."

"Hmph! Just to let you know, I've been dry for a century! I'm as good as a virgin maiden!" Merlin declared proudly, puffing out her slim-yet-shapely chest… which was true, because her body's natural regenerative abilities would be able to grow back her hymen after only a few short years, much less 100. "Besides, do you think you're better than me?! Who'd want a body as artificial as you?!"

- Pa!

Shirō Reinforced and Altered the air trapped between his palms, exploding it loud enough to catch the two women's attention. "You should focus on your second-to-last question, Master," he sternly suggested, though with his childish face, it looked absolutely adorable to them instead. "I'm sure Miss Pandora is here for something far more important than a pussy-measuring contest."

- Gasp!

"You see?! Only a few years with you, and hear how uncouth his mouth is!" Pandora scolded Merlin, who looked away to avoid taking responsibility. Feeling victorious, she then walked back towards him and crouched down. "W-Would you like to live with me- no, I mean us faeries? It's not good being cooped up in this flower garden with this pervert all day, Sir Sirius."

"You're totally going to say 'me'!" Merlin protested, though the other two ignored her.

For the first time in a long while – or what subjectively felt 'a long while' for him – he smiled thinly. "Miss Pandora must have another reason to invite me… other than inappropriate lust, no? Someone you assume only my previous self can help… 'solve'?"

She eyed Merlin once again, talking in snide, "Your brain is even worse than a boy. What's it filled with, sex?"

"Of course not! There's Magecraft, schemes, food, clothes, and you faeries' prosperity! Don't belittle me so!" The white-haired succubus complained. "…and maybe, juuuuuuuuuuuusssssssstttttttt maybe some sex at the very end. Hmph!"

"Please don't grow up to be like her, Sir Sirius," Pandora sagely advised, her hands back to massaging his cheeks. This time, though, she's even bolder and had moved his entire body to sit on her lap while doing so. "This kind of person is the one who allows a [Calamity] to move around unchecked, even though she's supposed to be our guardian. Oh, that brings to mind a latest discovery… She's a traitor, is she not?"

"I wouldn't call her that," Shirō corrected, still struggling to speak because of the forced facial massage. "She's been repenting all these years, so we should treat her as one of yours… no, ours again."

"Uuuuuuwwwwwwwwwwwaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaannnnnnnnnnnnnn! Shirō really knows me best!" Merlin leapt to hug him, though his diminutive size meant she's actually hugging Pandora, with his head squished in-between their chests. "Let go of him! You're disrespecting the person you're calling 'hero' all the time! Geez!"

"I refuse."

"Why you-"

Shirō felt he was never as fortunate his body was still immature as of now, because getting an erection at this moment would only fan the competitive flames between the two and make things even more complicated to unwind. Hence, he spoke as if there's nothing going on. "…which [Calamity]? If I recall, there's supposed to be six, but aren't the majority of them inactive, if not all?"

"One has not only awakened, but latched itself onto a major player in the Outside World. While I usually don't care what happens there, their combination actually threatens us faeries, and thus I'm here to ascertain this perverted granny's situation," Pandora answered, causing yet another glaring contest. "But fortune smiles upon me, for I have found you."

By this time, he managed to wriggle his way out of the two women's grasp, much to their disappointment. He Traced a chair made of swords just his size so he couldn't be manhandled again like last time, before inquiring again, "Please, let's just assume I'm a stranger of no accomplishments, Miss Pandora. As you can see, my body can't even handle the power I hold, so I'll be of little use to you anyway. Besides, haven't my previous self slain the responsible Sub-Bells, the source of these [Calamity]?"

"Indeed," Pandora nodded, "however, you misunderstand: the [Calamity] I'm speaking of, which has been under our supervision for millennia, are produced from their remnant grudges. Currently, 3 are under His Holiness's direct control, 2 are managed by the Fang and Wind Clan… while this last wild card has always been difficult to trace, much less shackle."

"Hmm… Oi, isn't the Wind Clan's situation quite bad?" Merlin suddenly asked. "Do we have the risk of 2 out there in the wild, instead of just one?"

"I have made sure that isn't the case. Corral is an excellent leader, with only her confidence and stubbornness need work." Pandora shook her head. "The most critical thing currently is the absent [Avalon le Fae], set to be chosen shortly. Without that faerie's existence, we'll most likely be weakened from internal conflicts, enough to make us a soft target for this [Calamity]."

The six Pandora was speaking of were the [King], [Arms], [Flame], [Beast], [Curse], and [Abyss], all categorized under [Calamity]. From Merlin's teachings and Tonelico's latest information, [King], [Arms], and [Curse] were safely held within the usually-sleeping Cernunnos. Those who wanted to steal and take advantage of them must not only get past this invincible meat wall called Pandora, but also… well, beat Cernunnos, a being whose strength was equal in Britannia to YHWH in Jerusalem. Hence, the three of them weren't worried.

Ditto with [Beast], the source of the Fang Clan's confidence and military strength. They knew they could prioritize quantity over quality – though this didn't mean each of their soldiers is weak – because they had a 'chosen one' each generation to inherit this [Calamity], boosting their overall combat ability. While human rulers in the Outside World would have a headache in how to control such a powerful element – or, to be more precise, how to turn it into a mindless slave for their personal purposes, as always – faeries weren't overly concerned because of their inherent loyalty to Cernunnos. They might hate each other or those from different clans, but civil war between faeries was expressly forbidden by their very instincts. This was why Aurora's betrayal was such a huge scandal, because the faeries saw it as impossible. Humans might laugh at their naivety, but if they, too, had something similar to Fairy Eyes and the deep connection to their ancestral Phantasmal Species, they would've established a similar culture.

[Flame] was the most difficult to judge. While their wielders were generally benevolent, because it's a direct descendant of Albion instead of Cernunnos, one of Britannia's two Divine Dragons, it didn't have the same near-fanatical loyalty to the faeries as the others. This was the concept Merlin adapted to sever the Age of Gods and Heroes completely from Age of Man: by using a conceptual descendant of Ddraig, the other Divine Dragon, and modify Altria's body and [Fate] with it, releasing the inherent shackles to Britannia's Mystery Morgan was born with. Hence, the siblings were destined to go against each other as representatives of both worlds… before Alaya's intervention.

"It's the [Abyss]?" Shirō concluded. He chose a questioning tone to avoid further suspicion on how much he actually knew of this era, but he'd come to a conclusion.

'This is easy.'

In every iteration of reality, the person named 'Vortigern' must be the nemesis of whoever inherited the name 'Pendragon'. This was accurate not just in this kind of Quantum Time Lock, but also historical canon, in a sense 'Pendragon' represented Britannia's hopes and wished of an idealistic, fantastical leader to bring them out of the Dark Ages, while 'Vortigern' was the historically-accurate, hyper-realistic cunning leader who actually did so, regardless of the consequences to his reputation. The former had mystical and fictional ties in its meaning, while the latter was as literal and anonymous as it could get in this aspect.

Much more so, in fact, compared to Morgan's supposed enmity towards Arthur, which was actually a later, more romanticized addition which incidentally minimized Vortigern's importance to the plot.

Even in the memories Shirō received as a Heroic Vessel, Vortigern was a dragonfly, and not a true dragon unlike Altria… or even the [Flame] holder, really. A 'fake' having more in common with legendary plagues than leaders or saviours… In all honesty, he felt quite a bit of sympathy for this figure.

In the ends of their lives, they would similarly be erased from history in order to fit the 'plot' for future generations to learn: their deeds, accomplishments, impacts, and reputations. While Shirō wasn't concerned because he'd simply be recorded as a [Zero], Vortigern would earn the concept of [Negative], usually reserved for tragic villains and anti-heroes.

Hence, he considered this enemy to be 'easy'. The hard part was integrating Vortigern's upcoming defeat into Alaya's and his plans for this reality, so as to cement as much [Positive] as possible and actually change the main timeline.

It was difficult because… for one, he's still a kid, and his supposed partner wasn't even born yet! Should he hurry Morgan along…?

No; in any reality, pushing a girl to get married and pregnant quick was always a bad idea. 'Cancel that, cancel that,' he told himself.

"Precisely," Pandora confirmed, having seemingly temporarily settled her shouting match with Merlin. "It has latched onto an influential figure who can not only rule the Outside World, but also destroy the Reverse Side. I'd rather accept a shared monarch between the two realms than have that kind of potential tyrant roam free, in positions of power. The warlord's name is 'Vortigern'," she confirmed Shirō's theory, "Uther's younger brother."

- …

'Well, isn't that interesting…?' Shirō noted, eyeing Merlin who should know this man personally. "Is that person on the Round Table, Master? What can you tell us about him?"

Sensing his underlying implication, she answered with a touch of panic, "…a dangerous person who's just gotten much more dangerous, if he can harness all of [Calamity]'s power." Against this boy, she found herself losing control over her composure easier and easier each day… which was a phenomenon strange enough it's worthy of further research. 'Maybe I'll rope in Morgan if she can spare a clone…' Despite her errant thought, she quickly continued, knowing the more people know more of this information, the better the result would be, "In all honesty, at least on the surface, he's a much more competent… er, 'ruler' than Uther, to the point sometimes I feel I chose the wrong person."

"But Uther is a better 'person', so you chose him?" Shirō theorized again.

"Or an easier 'puppet'," Pandora sarcastically answered in Merlin's place.

Judging from the magus's silence, both of their sentences were true.

"His bloodline is destined to end, so Uther's semen is a better bet," Merlin tried to futilely defend her… decidedly wrong choice, not eager to go over and over her mistake again and again, having that fact rubbed in her face by both Alaya and Shirō.

"Well, if we're being vain about it…" The boy hesitated a touch, because his upcoming words could be taken in so many wrong ways, "I think the most important is actually Lady Igraine's or Master Merlin's eggs, because beauty gathers the best and easiest support. Miss Morgan and Altria don't get their good looks from Uther, I bet."

- Munyu!

This time, it's the sound of cheeks mashing against each other, as Merlin launched her own face to give him a kiss, but because he and Pandora had anticipated this reaction, he managed to turn his own head to one side while the blonde reached out, grabbed Merlin's own, and turned it the other way, smashing the sides of their skulls together. A combination of her voluminous hair and his baby fat made it hurt much less than expected, and he felt an appreciably pleasant aroma and softness nonetheless, somewhat stronger than the one from her chest earlier.

"You're the best!" Merlin shouted, undeterred by her failure, rubbing her head up and down. "Don't go! Stay with me here!"

He wanted to Reinforce himself to escape from her hug, but how could a child's body beat an adult's, who was even better at the skill than himself? Thus, he resigned himself from talking through a distorted face once again, "Think of it as an exchange student program, Master. You always will be my teacher, regardless of what you're afraid of or what other people think."

Pandora sighed. "You know… Have you ever thought your tongue is the source of all your troubles, Sir Sirius?"

"All the time," he flatly admitted. "All the time, Miss Pandora…"

"I'LL MISS YOU SO MUCH!" Merlin was starting to get hysterical, so the first human lifted her by the scruff of her neck to release her longing grip. "MAKE SURE YOU SEND LETTERS EVERY DAY!"

"By your will, Master."

That said, actually staying and training in Avalon wasn't a bad thing. It's certainly far safer than the politically volatile environment of the six faerie domains or the Outside World's human kingdoms – both of which he planned to traverse in this immature body. He could take advantage of its [Time]-altering properties and strengthen himself in a similar manner to how Lancelot originally did so. That 'man' was but a boy when he entered Vivian's domain, and exited as a fully-grown knight wielding Arondight in just five years, fully capable of engaging in his various amorous affairs.

But Caliburn wasn't going to forge itself.

And for his Caliburn… 'I prefer to gather the materials and inspiration myself,' he decided.

"Thank you for providing such a… nice accommodation, Your Highness," Tonelico sarcastically and dryly spoke to the person on the other side of a pinkish Bounded Field. "I have to be frank, this is the best prison bed I've ever been on."

Knocknarea's eyelids twitched. "Do not think I am oblivious to your real identity, Pendragon's princess. Someone like you has never even stepped foot one mile within a prison area, much less know what those unfortunate souls are subjected to."

"Oh…? Pray tell, how much better are you then me?" Sensing the hostility, the blonde barely changed her cold expression and continued prodding with extreme sarcasm. "If I may guess… you are someone who care for the peasants, fight for their freedom, and aspire for unending peace and prosperity?"

- …

"Just as I thought," Tonelico sagely nodded, satisfied at the stunned silence of her opponent. "Do you know how many people like you I've met? Then squeeze their lives out of their throats just like this…"

- Snap!

She deliberately made a show of snapping her fingers. "I have to admit you have tremendous charisma, and from the little amount of information I know, I cannot fault your rule in any way. Still… it doesn't change the fact you're just a little brat."

- BANG!

""Y-Your Highness…!"" The guards all around her, instead of scolding Tonelico for her rude remarks, grabbed onto Knocknarea's limbs, restraining her from taking another step. ""Please calm yourself!""

The one step she managed to take before any of them could react, including Tonelico, instantly pulverized the floor in front of the pink-haired girl, leaving a sizeable chasm between the floors of Tonelico's 'prison' and the rest of the room.

Of course, this was the psychological result the blonde wanted. "Again, just as I thought: merely a child who can't control her impulses."

"Quiet, prisoner!"

Getting yelled at by the helmeted guard – a necessary safety procedure to prevent a powerful magus like Tonelico from establishing direct eye contact; so their entire faces were covered – she got bolder and bolder in turn. "Why? Oh, I understand: Her babysitter's on holiday, so you're blaming me for your incompetence in taking care of and looking after your liege? There's a good school back where I was born for educating servants; I'll give you the address later on."

"Are you done?"

A deep, authoritative baritone asked, breaking their one-sided conversation. Noticing this came from Knocknarea herself, meaning her agitated state had now been replaced by a cold, furious one, Tonelico stopped her mind games. Unlike her yet-established [Witch] clone, this [Warrior] body didn't really like 'playing' this way – in fact, she wished circumstances would support and allow her to behave more like her [Maiden] body's little sister: naïve, chivalrous, and happy-go-lucky. "Of course, Your Highness. You were saying…?"

Even at such a young age, the magus could feel the Conceptual Weight and Od rolling over from beyond the thin Bounded Field, befitting a potential faerie clan leader. In the Reverse Side and unlike in the Outside World, a [Title] granted immense additional power upon an individual. Thus, the projection Tonelico had calculated for Knocknarea's future maximum output was frightening, to say the least.

"I was thinking of dragging that rabbit and dog over; slice their throats in front of you to make you talk."

- …

A silent stand-off ensued, both sides trying their best to gauge the other's upcoming response.

Because everyone's waiting for Tonelico's answer, she then had a go, "But you won't."

"What makes you so sure?"

"Your Fairy Eyes must be exceptional to attain your current position at such a young age." The blonde began. "Then, you should be able to ascertain our relationship isn't that close. Do you think of me as a [Hero] who'll endanger my life for strangers? My apologies to disappoint you, but you have the wrong person."

That description perfectly fit that redheaded boy safely stowed away in Avalon, with no way for Knocknarea to reach him. Even if the pink-haired soon-to-be king could, Tonelico was certain he, whose previous incarnation drove Velber away, would have some means of escape. Aside from that, surely, her teacher would protect him? Unless that whimsical white-haired bitch had found a new game to play?

"If what you're saying was whether I trust my back to them in combat… then yes. But as a form of ultimate psychological torture? Apologies from going back again and again to this very same, uncreative insult, but such a simple way of thinking truly showed your inexperience," Tonelico advised, playing the perversion of an 'older sister' role. "For a group like us, a bribe after a threat is the best way. I was sure the legendary Lady Mab should've left something for her descendants to learn from, but now I'm not sure."

"…get out."

"Ah, you're going to release me so soon? Oh, how magnanimous!"

"I'm not talking to you!" Knocknarea growled, her arms crossed across her perfectly-flat chest, her powerful legs spread as wide as her petite shoulders. It might've been a gallant, imposing image if she was older, but as of right now, being about as tall as Totorot, Tonelico found her rather cute instead, like a little girl playing the role of her adult mother or something. "Guards! Give us some privacy!"

What ensued could only be described as a… heated negotiation between a child and her babysitters, just as Tonelico mocked earlier. Finally – mostly because no one present could physically beat Knocknarea, including the locked-up blonde magus – the guards relented and streamed orderly out of the room, each one giving Tonelico the stink-eye. Through the thin barrier, she could feel they not only took their orders literally – which meant only exiting the door and could've pressed their ears against it the next instant – but also understood their leader's intentions, grouping up far enough the ensuing shouts and screams would've been muted.

The Bounded Field was far too thin and simple to hold someone like Tonelico in place, and she could've instantly broken it if she wanted to even if it's not her specialty. It's the run-of-the-mill containment spell, and in fact a touch weaker than it should be because it's cast upon a freakin' VIP prison room, which was naturally suboptimal for a perfectly-secure space. However, political and physical reasons meant she chose not to: One, she really wanted to discuss some things with Knocknarea if she really was going for the title [Avalon le Fae]; two… she's also weaker than this pink-haired brat in front of her, owing to their relative combat experience.

Despite looking like a fine young woman, Tonelico, as a clone, was naturally born just recently, while Knocknarea had been training her entire life, focused on only one body. Morgan aimed to have all of her clones possess the exact same Conceptual Weight, erasing the individual called 'Morgan' altogether and making several of herself, and naturally this required a longer, more intricate process. Maybe in a few more years…

Now they're alone, Tonelico calmly restarted, "I'd like your support, please. When I rule, you can still be queen of the King's Clan."

- …

"You… don't know how to negotiate at all, do you?" Knocknarea asked, feeling rather incredulous one shocking statement after another kept coming from her prisoner's mouth. "Besides, that doesn't depend on me."

In contrast to her previous haughty demeanour, the brat in front of Tonelico now truly resembled a state leader. Not only she didn't get riled up by the magus's ridiculous request, but she could counter calmly with implied requests.

"Naturally, I'll assist you in ending this civil war. Just throw me in the frontlines of your army, and allow me to show you my strength," she confidently spoke, now that she could converse freer, without the constrain of having to act in front of people like Cernunnos, Ainsel, or the innocent Totorot. "You are certainly worthy of [Avalon le Fae], unlike the other clan leaders I heard of, but one look at me fighting, and you'll see how much better-suited I am to the title."

The pink-haired kid narrowed her eyes at the mention of that title. It's not something outsiders, commoners, or even regular faeries were privy to, because they… well, they had Cernunnos as leader, and Pandora as proxy. Another ruling title above the clan heads but below those two? Yes, too much bureaucracy was also a thing in the Reverse Side. So far, only the King Clan ever had aspirations for that title – well, it's in its name – but the only individuals who ever had the qualifications to were Mab and Knocknarea. The former strangely lost her ambitions as she grew older, and the exact reasons for that weren't informed to the current contenders for the title 'clan leader'. Fortunately, she was still alive, so Knocknarea was looking forward to asking this particular question… as well as the secrets her generation was naturally not privy to.

Still, as of right now, Tonelico had her at a disadvantage, purely from a scheduling perspective. While Knocknarea's forces were winning, they're at their most critical spot right now, which usually meant she's at her most vulnerable now. She's young, not inexperienced… Meaning, despite having such a delicate neck she'd be glad to twist broken, Tonelico's services were too valuable to just waste away, either by imprisonment, execution, or any sort of further coercion.

Besides, she really didn't have the time to argue further, despite her most recent order for some time alone with the blonde.

They stared at each other's eyes, their Conceptual Weight spiritually clashing as they judged how easy it was to influence the other with Magecraft. Fairy Eyes were great to evaluate others, but it also meant they're an easier path to influence another's mental space. Any kind of Mystic Eyes was like that, to be honest – the difference-makers were the aforementioned Conceptual Weight and individual mastery of those eyes.

"Well, if you're that willing to present your back to me, then go ahead," Knocknarea decided. "I assume you know your responsibilities and how much… 'work' satisfies someone of my stature?"

"Of course. I am impatient myself; let's not waste time and get going," the twin-tailed girl readily agreed. "Then we can backstab each other when we're done. The faster we come to an agreement, the quicker you can betray me," she bluntly added.

That actually brought a chuckle to the little girl's lips. "So the theme you're going with, coming so brazenly into my territory like this, is 'brutal honesty'? to do that, you must have inherited your teacher's prophetic skills, no?" Knocknarea tilted her head cutely. "Does Lady Merlin plan to participate in this… alliance as well? Are you here on her behalf, then?"

Tonelico honestly shook her head. "She's occupied with many things. I don't even think she knows I'm here, to be honest. And she cares little for things like [Avalon le Fae]… always preferring to chase baser goals, if you know what I mean."

"…strong people are usually strange people," Knocknarea mused, before nodding again. "Very well. This concludes our arrangement. Do note your companions will be held captive until further notice, with figurative ropes around their necks."

"If you think-"

The brat glared at her. "Yes. Yes, I do think you will be affected. Kind people have it the hardest when they have to act callous and cruel; you are no exception." However, Knocknarea's expression soon bloomed into a kind, if condescending smile, "It's quite nice to know, for one. To see you're not just another cold-hearted mercenary eager to earn my acquaintance. Makes you cuter and easier to control."

- Static.

All of a sudden, waves of Od stormed the room. It wasn't a slow build-up, but a sudden tempest or tsunami, crashing against Knocknarea's small figure past the now-destroyed thin Bounded Field. However, true to her smirk, this force barely affected her more than a billowing hair and a touch more wrinkle to her form-fitting military uniform.

An errant magus – not even a full-blooded faerie – wished to challenge her, here, in her own realm? Had Merlin taught her nothing about homefield advantages? This outburst didn't even feel as threatening as the one her currently-losing opponent projected at times… before they, just like everyone else, was forced to grovel by her feet and had their heads stepped on.

Still, she had to respect Tonelico's strength which managed to pulverize everything else in the room, except for a conical area perfectly lying behind her. it's at a minimum level she expected for someone plying their services to her, because anything weaker would just be turned away at the door. This was also why she immediately moved in to arrest Tonelico's party the moment she sensed the potential they held within… but the group leader wasn't actually the person she was really aiming at, merely the one who had the best communication skill among the three.

Which was simply another way of saying 'choosing the best from the worst'.

- Static! Static! Static!

"Are you done?" Knocknarea dryly commented, her own Od encasing her whole being perfectly and nailed her figure in place, like a mountain in front of a measly seasonal wind. While that analogy could also be reversed to indicate 'even a wind could erode a mountain', that would take millennia, so she wasn't worried. "This amount of… ah, 'security' is normal, no? Don't tell me you humans don't have this culture over on that side."

"Don't you dare touch them!"

Ah, the voice of desperation. Always had a touch of bass to it.

"I've spoken with countless idiots far denser than you. Not even realizing how important the things around them are… until they're gone, or threatened by yours truly. It's a very efficient way of defeating your opponent, mind," Knocknarea explained, returning Tonelico's earlier sage-like sarcasm in turn. "Usually, they're the heroic types, so doing this is like playing with fire and pissing oil into it… but you're no hero, are you? This makes things simple."

She walked forwards, as if there's nothing inhibiting her but an ankle-deep pool and a gentle breeze, all the way to the overly-luxurious prison bed Tonelico's laying on, her feet touching nothing but thin air after the floor in front of her was destroyed.

"I shall declare here: Your body shall serve under me. Let our [Fate] rests with your hands. Submit to the beckoning of the Six Bells, to this will, and for this reason.

"For me, you shall attain all virtues of all of Heaven. For me, you shall have dominion over all evils of all Hell.

"Swear for me, and you have a deal, Tonelico the Saviour."