In Shane's understanding from his previous life, the name "Arondight" went through a fairly winding evolution over the long stretch of legend.
Its earliest appearance in written records wasn't as Lancelot's sword at all.
It first showed up in that famous medieval European chivalric romance, Sir Bevis of Hampton.
In that story, the sword's owner was a knight named Guy.
Interestingly, in the earliest versions of the Arthurian legends, Lancelot himself didn't even exist.
It wasn't until the French poet Chrétien—in his Arthurian tales that incorporated the Holy Grail theme—that this "First Knight of the Round Table," a paragon with a holy sword, was shaped into what later became the familiar figure.
"Born from the lake… so you really are the 'Knight of the Lake,' no question about it."
Shane's face was dark. His mouth twitched as he stared up at the petite, dignified silhouette in the sky.
Bad memories surged up—the flesh-mass buried at the bottom of that lake, the nausea in his stomach churning as if the recollection itself were rising.
At the same time, the knight's figure was fading within the curtain of rain.
As she disappeared, the heavy clouds began to disperse. The fine rain thinned, then stopped.
Even the thick, nauseating stench of blood seemed to vanish as if it had never existed.
"The vision's ending."
Doubt and disbelief still churned inside Shane—but the moment he realized it, the words burst out of him anyway.
"Your name! What's your name?!"
He shouted at the dissolving figure.
"Is it Lancelot?!"
His voice echoed across the empty ruins.
But the girl in the sky didn't respond. She just hovered there, expressionless.
The next second—
Like someone erasing her with a rubber eraser, her body began turning into transparent motes of light from the tips of her toes upward, until she was gone completely, leaving only the snow-bright sky behind.
"…."
Of course, Shane didn't get the answer he wanted.
"Haa…"
Staring at the empty air, Shane let out a long breath—he wasn't sure whether it was disappointment or relief.
With Deliora brought down and the vision dispersing, the suffocating pressure lifted with it.
In the distance, Ur and Ultear exchanged a quick look, confirmed it was over, and hurried back.
But when they arrived, the first thing they saw was Shane standing there blankly, still muttering strange names like "Arondight" and "Lancelot" under his breath.
"What's wrong, boy?" Ur asked, patting his shoulder in confusion.
Logically, after taking down an immortal calamity, he should've been excited. Why did he look like this?
"Is it because of that… knight?" Ultear asked, understanding him better than her mother did.
She recalled that expressionless face in the sky—so much like her own.
Then she glanced at Shane's conflicted look and felt something odd stir inside her.
For some reason, she instinctively wanted to wear a different expression.
So Ultear forced her lips into a stiff, awkward curve.
"Don't force it. You're smiling really happily right now."
Shane's annoyed voice cut in.
"Hah—"
Shane rubbed his face hard, forcing himself to pull it together.
His mood recovered quickly.
Sure, the fact that "Lancelot, the guy who seduced Queen Guinevere, is somehow a deadpan loli" was absolutely worldview-destroying.
But after the brief slump, all he could do was accept it.
"At least my original goal is done—I've confirmed Lancer's true name is Lancelot."
"As for history, as for legends… let all that bullshit go to hell!"
He seethed internally.
Most of those legends were written up by later generations anyway—fictional vessels for people's hopes and tragedies.
If it was fiction, then sure, maybe Lancelot being female wasn't impossible…
Yeah. That's right. If Lancelot can be a girl, then maybe King Arthur was a girl too!
He aggressively brainwashed himself in his head, trying to rescue his collapsing worldview.
"I'm smiling?"
Ultear, meanwhile, touched her cheek in confusion.
"Mhm." Ur smiled, formed a smooth mirror of ice in her palm, and held it up to her daughter. "Look."
In the mirror was a black-haired girl's face.
A tiny, shallow curve rested at the corner of her lips.
It was clumsy. Not perfect.
But it was like the first flower breaking through winter ice—soft enough to make the heart ache.
"You smile beautifully, Tia," Ur said sincerely.
"…."
Used to calm, used to hiding behind a mask, Ultear froze at her mother's blunt praise.
Then, like an ordinary girl, she flustered and looked away—her ears turning faintly red.
"N-no… it's nothing… it's just the reflection."
"Heh…"
Ur smiled at her daughter's awkward cuteness, chose not to expose the lie, and smoothly changed the subject.
She looked toward the massive body not far away.
"And that… how do we deal with it?"
Deliora's chest had been pierced, its aura reduced to almost nothing—but as an "immortal calamity," it still wasn't truly dead.
Shane walked over.
Inside his mind, The Book of Heroic Spirits still hadn't shown the words Trial Complete, confirming the demon hadn't actually died.
But he wasn't in a hurry to clear the trial.
"Seal it in ice," Shane said. "Freeze it."
"Seal it?" Ur frowned. "Weren't you going to slay it?"
"On the original timeline, you die with Deliora to protect your student," Shane explained evenly.
"To avoid changing the future too much, we're going to stage the scene the way it was 'supposed' to be."
"In other words—forge a fake 'mutual destruction' outcome."
"Mutual destruction…"
Ur touched her torn, battered clothes, understanding flashing in her eyes.
"So… if you hadn't come, in that kind of despair, I really would've had only one choice: Iced Shell."
"Yeah… I really would've died."
She said it lightly—no fear, no sorrow at learning her "destined death," only a broad, almost relieved acceptance.
"'Iced Shell' is the forbidden ice magic Mother created," Ultear explained quietly beside Shane.
"The caster sacrifices their body and becomes extreme cold itself, permanently sealing the target and stripping its life force… a true self-sacrificial spell."
"…."
Shane glanced at her, but his attention drifted somewhere bizarre.
"You can say 'Mom' naturally now," he noted.
"!"
Ultear froze. The warmth that had just returned to her face iced over again.
She shot him a vicious glare.
Bastard, she cursed in her head.
Shane pretended not to see, grinning as he raised his hand and fired a gorgeous firework of flame into the sky.
A signal to the distant Gray: it was over. He could come back.
While waiting for him, Shane explained the rest of the plan to Ur in detail.
"From now on, you have to 'die' completely."
"Use the ice-seal illusion to hide in this remote place without anyone discovering you—until several years later, in X778, Ultear and I will come pick you up."
"X778… that's your era?" Ur asked.
They hadn't exactly tried to hide anything; even the dullest person could guess.
"Yeah," Shane admitted. "We're from the future."
"…Hah."
Ur stared at him, then at Ultear, and let out a long sigh—her gaze becoming profoundly complicated.
As a veteran mage, she understood the risk of playing with time better than anyone.
Even if you "recreate" altered facts, a tiny deviation can trigger countless branching changes.
And then each change branches again… especially over years.
A single person's day can reshape countless lives.
Two tiny variables, compounded endlessly… before long, the future would be unrecognizable.
Risking time travel—risking turning your own future into a mess—just to save someone like me, a useless mage who couldn't even protect her student or daughter…
Ur believed it wasn't worth it. The cost was too high.
But seeing her daughter's eyes—full of hope after a reunion she'd fought for—she couldn't bring herself to say those gloomy words.
In the end, she swallowed them and quietly accepted her daughter's plan.
"And besides…"
Looking at her poised, grown daughter, guilt surged through Ur.
"If future Tia is alive and well… that means back then she didn't die. She lived on—strongly."
"And I didn't even realize it… I truly believed you were gone…"
Ur bit her lip hard, her eyes reddening again.
"It's okay, Mom."
Ultear sensed her mother's emotions and hurried forward to hug her, pressing her face into Ur's shoulder.
"I'm doing well. Really."
She didn't mention the human experiments she'd endured afterward—only said, lightly, that she was fine.
And as if afraid Ur wouldn't believe her, she added, pointing at Shane:
"Look—I even have… really good friends."
"Friends?" Ur's attention caught, some of the heaviness lifting.
She looked between them with interest, her gaze bouncing back and forth.
"You two really do seem close."
"Eh. So-so," Shane said.
"Yes. Very close," Ultear said.
They spoke at the same time.
Shane said "so-so."
Ultear said "very close."
"…."
"Huh?"
Shane turned, baffled, looking at Ultear—who'd just said "very close" without blinking.
His eyes asked a silent question: Are we that close?
If Shane had to define it, he didn't know what he and Ultear were.
Partners? Former enemies? Mutual tools?
Or… maybe friends, barely?
He was thinking in circles.
Ultear didn't avoid his gaze. She met it calmly, then looked away and said nothing more.
Shane didn't know what to ask.
Before long, Gray came sprinting back, panting, dragging two unconscious kids behind him.
They gathered around Ur in the frozen wastes, savoring this stolen, fleeting warmth—
Until the six-hour limit of Time of Memories approached.
"Time's up," Ultear said, standing, her eyes clear and decisive again. "Seal it."
The three ice mages worked together, using their ice shaping magic—without employing Iced Shell.
They created a massive iceberg, convincing enough to fool anyone, and locked the dying Deliora inside.
"Since it isn't true 'Iced Shell,' the freeze will weaken over time," Shane reminded Ur as they prepared to leave.
"For the next few years, you'll need to come back secretly now and then and reinforce it."
"Leave it to me," Ur nodded.
"I'll come back soon—no, I'll come back as soon as I can, Master!" Gray said, eyes red, gripping Ur's hand.
"All right, all right, don't act like a little kid," Ur laughed, ruffling his hair. "Go. Don't keep future me waiting too long."
Ultear, though—despite it being the final goodbye—
looked oddly distracted, her gaze drifting toward Shane again and again.
Shane couldn't help it. He gave her a shove.
"You're leaving—don't you have anything to say?"
Ultear jolted as if waking from a dream.
She inhaled, stepped forward, and unlike Gray, didn't cry.
She only said, firmly:
"Mom… wait for me."
"Mhm."
Ur patted her back easily, smiling warm.
"It's just hiding alone for a few years. It'll pass in no time. Don't worry."
"Go. Return to the time that's yours."
As her final words fell, the wind and snow rapidly receded, warm air rushing back.
Space-time shifted.
When their vision cleared again, they were back inside Fairy Tail's guild library.
"Thud."
A gray, shabby book dropped to the floor—then, as if its duty was done, it broke into motes of light and vanished.
"The book… the book disappeared!" Gray gasped.
"Didn't we already expect that?" Shane shrugged, turning to leave, still reminding him as he walked:
"Hey, brainless—don't go blabbing about time travel everywhere. Got it?"
"Yeah, yeah! So annoying!" Gray snapped, irritated that Shane still treated him like Natsu-level stupid.
"Oh, and Ultear—let's stop by my place before we head north to meet Ur. I told Erza we'd only be gone for a day," Shane added, rambling.
Ultear didn't answer.
She didn't follow right away either.
She just stood there, head lowered, lost in thought.
"What's wrong?" Gray scratched his head, assuming she was overwhelmed after parting from her mother.
Shane turned too. "Didn't manage to capture all the magic traces for the imprint?"
"It's fine."
Ultear lifted her head. Her beautiful face was eerily calm.
She looked at them and slowly shook her head.
"I just… figured some things out."
"Things?" Shane blinked.
Before he could ask more—
"WHAM!"
Without warning, a crystal ball appeared out of nowhere, cutting the air with a sharp whine, and slammed into the back of Gray's head.
"Thud!"
Gray—who never even imagined "friendly fire"—didn't even get to grunt.
His eyes rolled back, and he toppled straight over, unconscious.
Staring at Gray's collapsed body, Shane froze.
"What the hell…?"
He widened his eyes, completely stunned by the sudden move.
Ultear didn't explain.
She only stared at Shane and walked toward him, step by step.
Each soft footfall echoed clearly through the silent library.
And her presence changed—no longer cold or uncertain, but something that made the heart pound:
a pressure that tightened the air.
Shane instinctively backed away until he was pinned into a corner between shelves.
Nowhere left to go.
Then—
That familiar, faint perfume-like scent washed over him, mixed with the old paper smell of the library, weaving into a net he couldn't escape.
Ultear rose slightly onto her toes.
In the reflection of Shane's widened pupils, her exquisite face drew closer and closer—
And her lips—cool, soft, trembling faintly—
pressed gently against his.
~~~
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