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The voice grew softer and softer, the last word fading away like a sigh:

"...a...perfect...ending..."

The words fell.

The hand that had been gently stroking Ritsuka's cheek lost all its strength and slowly, helplessly... fell down.

My fingertips brushed across the air, taking away the last trace of warmth.

The last glimmer of light in his icy blue eyes was completely extinguished.

Gareth, the fairy knight from the fairy kingdom, who always had a lively smile, regarded duty and loyalty as her life, and whose heart still retained innocence and kindness... closed her eyes forever.

They fell on the eve of victory, when the darkness had completely receded.

The ice and snow will eventually melt away.

Like the prelude to spring, it always arrives quietly, gently brushing across the land frozen by the cold, silently awakening the life sleeping beneath the permafrost.

That is the beginning of the revival of all things, a symbol of the rekindling of hope, and the blossoming of a brand new chapter in the cycle of life.

However, the knight who was once as pure as ice and snow and brought laughter like the warm sun, and the girl who longed for the vibrant spring of human history, could no longer witness what true "lush green" vitality looked like.

Her spring transformed into a vow and sacrifice to protect others, forever remaining before the dawn when this cold winter was about to end.

The final chapter, farewell Britain - Fairy Round Table Realm, The Poem of Eternal Mist

"Grandpa! Grandpa! You really were here!!"

A tearful cry shattered the silence above the ruins of the royal city. Ritsuka practically used both hands and feet to climb the last few broken steps, staggering as she rushed to the top platform of the royal city, which had been shattered by disaster and battle, yet still stood tall.

Muramasa Senji—that face that belonged to Shirou Emiya, now bearing a weariness and serenity beyond his years—stood quietly, gazing into the distance. The horrific wounds on his body from the final battle had vanished under the influence of some advanced healing magic. However, what made Ritsuka's heart stop was that Muramasa's body was now radiating a familiar, phosphorescent, pale blue aura.

Ritsuka recognized this light. Unlike the golden light commonly seen when a Heroic Spirit returns to the Throne of Heroes after completing a mission, this blue halo symbolized that the Heroic Spirit was desperately resisting the pull of "returning," forcibly remaining in the mortal world. But this resistance was often unsustainable, and the light itself was a harbinger of its impending demise.

“I’m sorry, but that’s just how it is.” Senji Muramasa turned around slowly upon hearing the commotion, his gaze calmly falling on Ritsuka, a slight, helpless smile even appearing on his lips. “This time… I’ve managed to trick that Vortigern guy. However, this journey through the Lostbelt is about to end… Fujimaru Ritsuka.”

Following his gaze, Ritsuka looked beyond the platform. As far as the eye could see, there was a suffocating, boundless devastation. The earth was being devoured and torn apart, cities were reduced to scorched earth and rubble, and rivers were blocked by purplish-black filth... This was not the destruction caused by Chaldea's "restoration of humanity," but rather the shocking tragedy resulting from Britain's own accumulated sins, incited madness, and the eventual activation of its "self-destruction program."

Looking at this scene, Ritsuka felt a mix of emotions: exhaustion after victory, grief for the deceased, and an indescribable heaviness and confusion.

Senji Muramasa seemed to see through her thoughts. After a moment of silence, he asked softly, "Kalia... how is that child?"

Ritsuka's body trembled violently. She lowered her head, her fingers unconsciously curling up, her voice so low it was almost inaudible: "She...didn't make it here...she...saved me..."

His hesitant words, though unfinished, were clear enough.

Muramasa's eyes dimmed for a moment, and he let out a barely audible sigh. War... is always like this. Accompanying the triumphant songs of victory are often irreparable sacrifices and separations.

At that moment, Caster followed Ritsuka onto the platform. Looking at that face that had shed its childishness and gained a sense of determination and dignity, yet remained familiar, Muramasa, as the "guardian" who had silently protected and witnessed her growth all along, revealed a heartfelt and gratified smile.

“Indeed… you’ve grown, Caster.” His voice was gentle. “In that case… I have nothing… to regret.”

"Wait! Grandpa!" Ritsuka suddenly looked up, her eyes brimming with tears, her voice almost pleading, "Could you... could you... could you go on an adventure with me one more time? I don't want... I don't want to see you leave like this! I..."

"This isn't something I can decide," Muramasa interrupted her, his tone calm yet undeniable. He slowly turned around, gazing back at the desolate land, his silhouette appearing somewhat ethereal in the blue halo. "My essence... is one of the 'Three Great Apostles' under the alien god. Even if I'm unwilling to listen to that woman's nagging, the ownership of this spirit foundation... isn't something I can simply leave behind at will."

“But… then…” Ritsuka’s tears finally rolled down her cheeks, “From now on… won’t you be… all alone again…”

That plea, filled with reluctance and dependence, was like a key that instantly unlocked a long-sealed box deep in the memories of Senji Muramasa.

Time seemed to flow backward.

Long ago, before he became the Heroic Spirit "Senji Muramasa," or even earlier, at some point in time, a similar scene seemed to have occurred. A weeping girl clung tightly to "his" clothes, shouting with all her might, begging "him" not to leave. Although it was an inescapable fate, although separation was already destined, the girl stubbornly, again and again... tried to hold him back.

Ah...so that was...so long ago?

Ripples of memories gently spread across the lake of my heart, bringing a subtle sense of bewilderment and melancholy.

"This is really... a headache." A hint of gentleness and nostalgia crept into Senko Muramasa's voice. He turned back to look at Ritsuka, whose eyes were brimming with tears, his gaze becoming incredibly serious. "Lift your head, Ritsuka."

Ritsuka did as he was told, trying to stop her tears, and looked at him.

“Let’s make a promise with this old man,” Muramasa said solemnly, “if we have the chance to meet again in the future.”

He paused, his gaze seemingly piercing through the ruins before him, directed towards a more distant and challenging future.

"Then I'll strive to become stronger. After all, the Earth is now a blank slate. The road ahead will only be more difficult."

"Yes!" Ritsuka nodded vigorously, wiping away her tears, her eyes regaining their resolve. "I will! Grandpa, you... you must too..."

Hearing this resounding and determined response, a genuinely satisfied and relieved smile appeared on Senko Muramasa's face. He nodded, as if he had accomplished an important task.

Just then, the pale blue aura surrounding him suddenly brightened and accelerated! The light surged like a tide, making his slender figure appear even more transparent and ethereal. Clearly, the last moment he could linger had passed.

"I... have obtained the answer."

His voice sounded somewhat ethereal in the light, yet carried a calmness devoid of regret.

"It's alright, Ritsuka."

The final words were like the gentlest farewell and encouragement:

"I will continue to work hard in the future—"

The moment the words fell.

The figure of Senji Muramasa, along with his warm and reassuring aura, completely transformed into countless dancing, crystalline blue specks of light, like a galaxy flowing backwards on a summer night. They hovered briefly above the empty platform of the royal city before slowly rising and dissipating, merging into the sky that had been washed clean by war and tears and was gradually becoming clearer, leaving no trace.

If a blacksmith's life is one of spending his days with the furnace, the anvil, and his sweat, then this job may be tedious, dirty, or lonely.

But what if, in his life, there had been a well-behaved, sensible girl who was willing to stay by the side of the "dirty" blacksmith, giving him warmth, trust, and care...

So, even if the years are long and the journey is lonely, perhaps... he will never feel truly lonely again in his life.

Southern Seas - Land of Collapse

Everything seemed like a cruel cycle, returning to the starting point of the initial landing—the southern sea area.

However, the scene before him was vastly different from his initial impression of the place. The once relatively gentle coastline, ravaged by repeated disasters, now presented a jagged, grotesque outline, as if gnawed by a giant beast. The seawater was murky, covered with ominous purplish-black foam, lapping against the sandy beach streaked with scorched marks and eerie crystals. A heavy, deathly stillness permeated the air, a mixture of the fishy smell of the sea, scorched earth, and some intangible aura of annihilation. Only the rustling, seemingly feeble sound of the waves continued their monotonous repetition, adding to the suffocating sense of being at the edge of the world.

Under the personal escort of the three Children of Paradise, the Chaldea group arrived at the only relatively "intact" evacuation point on this ravaged coastline. After the devastation of Cornunos and the final devouring by the Naraku Insects, the entire Lostbelt of Britain had become a complete forbidden zone. As far as the eye could see, scorched earth, ruins, fissures, solidified remnants of calamity… there was no trace of life, no sign of civilization whatsoever.

In other words, Morgan, Liliana, and Castor—these three last "paradise fairies"—are the last remaining "living" beings on this land that is about to completely fall.

"Let's leave it here."

Liliana stopped and turned to face the Chaldeans. Her ancient and beautiful face bore a complex expression, a mixture of guilt, relief, and endless loneliness.

"My friends in Chaldea... this time, our kingdom has brought you... immeasurable trouble and pain."

She bowed slightly, her voice low and sincere.

"sorry."

"No, no, no! Your Majesty Liliana!" Mash hurriedly waved her hands, saying urgently, "Please don't say that! We should be the ones...we're the ones who intervened in your history, but in the end..."

"The 'correction' of history is one of the meanings of our existence as Children of Paradise," Morgan said calmly, interrupting Mashu's self-reproach. She walked to Liliana's side, her purple eyes sweeping over the ravaged land, her gaze not filled with sorrow, but with a frozen, settled calm.

“This country… has utterly ‘dead’,” Morgan continued. “Our mission as the children of paradise… in a sense, is also complete.”

She paused, her gaze fixed on the broken horizon in the distance, a rare hint of emptiness and bewilderment in her voice.

"I just...feel so lonely."

"Now, apart from the three of us... there isn't a single 'living' person left."

Holmes on the other end of the communication fell into an unusually long silence. Any reasoning or analysis seemed to lose its meaning in the face of this pure end and annihilation.

After a moment of silence, Morgan seemed to remember something and reached out her hand. In her palm lay a fist-sized, strangely iridescent, yet remarkably stable, prismatic crystal. The crystal emanated a pure and immense magical energy, the essence of which was intimately familiar to everyone present.

“Here, take this.” Morgan handed the crystal to Leonardo da Vinci and Ritsuka. “It’s something that was extracted along with the core of Kornunos when it was finally destroyed.”

"This is... the Holy Grail?!" Leonardo da Vinci exclaimed in surprise as he carefully examined the image. However, this Holy Grail, perhaps due to its long-term coexistence with the source of calamity or other reasons, did not manifest in the traditional cup shape, but was instead sealed in this highly concentrated and extremely stable crystal form of magical energy.

“But, Your Majesty Morgan!” Ritsuka said hastily, “Giving this to us…then you…you mean…”

“There’s no need to worry about us.” Morgan shook his head, his tone resolute. “I have… no intention, nor any need, to ‘reshape’ this country.”

Her gaze met that of Liliana and Castor beside her, and a strange, almost liberating, tacit understanding appeared in the eyes of the three of them.

“Rather than that…” Liliana continued, her voice carrying a hint of calm that comes with experience, “this kind of ‘end’… is perhaps the ‘scene’ we truly want to see deep down.”

Indeed, whether it's Liliana's "Eternal Calendar" or Morgan's "Queen's Calendar," the fairies' inherent greed, selfishness, shortsightedness, and betrayal remain like an incurable disease, repeatedly dragging their kingdoms into the mire and trampling the queen's efforts and sacrifices. The order they painstakingly built was ultimately devoured and destroyed by the fairies' own desires.

With the complete collapse of Britain, those greedy demons who had acted recklessly, ungratefully, and took all kindness for granted, along with their ugly nature, met their final and irreversible "retribution." Like the Naraku Insects that were severed and vanished, they, and the "mistakes" they represented, will never return, utterly annihilated in the dust of time and space.

"This time... it should be goodbye forever."

Caster stepped forward, her long golden hair fluttering slightly in the sea breeze that carried the salty, ash-scented air. She looked at Ritsuka and Mashu, a gentle yet resolute smile on her face, trying to ease the sadness of parting.

"Don't be too sad, Ritsuka, Mashu."

"As 'Children of Paradise,' our very existence is inextricably linked to Britain. Even though this place has been transformed into a desolate wasteland... our 'duty' and 'destiny' are destined to remain here, until... the very last moment."

This is their inescapable fate, and also the end they chose themselves.

Ritsuka and Mashu exchanged a glance, both seeing deep reluctance and respect in each other's eyes. They nodded vigorously, gathering all their emotions into this final farewell.

"Yes! We understand!"

"Take care... Your Majesty Morgan, Your Majesty Liliana, Caster!"

The pier's mechanical system creaked and slowly retracted. The Nautilus's engines started, emitting a deep hum, and under the influence of the anti-gravity field, the ship began to steadily detach from the broken shore, slowly rising into the gray sky.

Through the porthole, Ritsuka and Mashu looked down at the desolate beach one last time.

The three children of Paradise—the first queen, the second queen, and the third child of prophecy who merged with the Holy Sword—stood side by side, their figures appearing so lonely yet so majestic amidst the vast ruins and the boundless sea and sky. They silently gazed up at the rising spaceship, watching these travelers from a foreign land, whose fates were deeply intertwined with their own, embark on their journey home.

As she watched the three figures gradually shrink but remain clear, Ritsuka felt a complex mix of emotions, both bitter and heavy, welling up inside her.

Saving the Lostbelts, restoring humanity... in essence, it is about "correcting" the erroneous course of history. And correction often means personally "destroying" everything that was born and existed because of the error—its civilization, its lives, its laughter and tears, all its stories and possibilities.

This is one of the cruelest costs that those who bear the mission of "restoration" must endure.

The Nautilus continued its ascent and soon reached sufficient altitude. From above, the island once known as "Britain" was now just a huge, ugly, cracked and hollowed-out piece of debris floating on the inky sea, like the skeleton of a colossal beast abandoned in a corner of time, utterly dead.

[The Lostbelt of Fairy Kingdom Britain - Restoration complete.]

A monotone, emotionless mechanical voice echoed from inside the cabin, signaling the end of the mission.

The spacecraft adjusted its course, and its tail thrusters emitted even more dazzling blue flames.

"Target—" Captain Nemo's youthful yet resolute voice rang out from the bridge.