[The two children at home went on a journey together, and the fields at home were gradually abandoned. The old knight generously handed over the management to you.]

[In your own experimental field and back at home, you now effortlessly traverse hundreds of miles as if it were as easy as putting on clothes or drinking water.]

[However, the witch in the honeymoon period still cannot tolerate even a moment of separation from you.]

[Since your sister has softened, there is no more battlefield of separation. So she joined your research, contributing ideas for your plan to produce grain in Britain.]

[Work on the fields when there's something to do, and feed the witch when there's nothing.]

[Morgan's unrestrained demands show no signs of abating. Rather, after you freed her switch, her needs are becoming increasingly fervent and daring.]

[Whether it's in the bedroom, the bath, the forest, or the fields.]

[Whether it's daytime, noon, dusk, or night.]

[You spread moisture everywhere, causing the grass and trees in the deep forest to flourish, blending together as if glued together.]

[Ambiguous and charming days pass by, and you seem to have entered into the calm and happy life once again.]

[Spring turns to autumn, and soon it's the golden harvest season. You excitedly show Morgan the nearly mature and plump wheat... a few days later, it all withers and decays.]

[?]

[Looking at the wheat fields that almost withered overnight, bathed in the bright autumn light, the fields present a bleak and decayed ash-gray color.]

[Your planting has failed.]

[...Why is this happening?]

[You and Morgan carefully examine the root system of the crops and find that due to absorbing excessive magic, they have accelerated their growth madly, skipped the mature stage, and directly entered the stage of decline.]

[No... this is unreasonable.]

[During the Clock Tower period, your research had already become very mature. Now in the Age of Gods, your magical abilities have made a qualitative leap.]

[There is no reason to regress instead of progress. This is not a crude mistake you would make.]

[And you visit your experimental field every day, the perception of the ultimate life form would not allow external disturbances.]

[This kind of failure... you can't find any reasonable explanation.]

[But you are not discouraged, nor do you feel disheartened. In the coming spring, you further expand the scale of your experimental field, carefully select more resilient varieties of crops, and sow them in batches.]

[Time flies, and as you pick flowers in the morning and evening, you gradually hear about Artoria's deeds, spreading throughout the island of Britain.]

[Slaying fierce giants, subduing tyrannical lords, annihilating the army... The 'Pure and Undefiled Knight Princess' gradually gains fame and stands out.]

[It seems that her journey is progressing very smoothly.]

[Suddenly, you are looking forward to the next meeting with her. What interesting scene will it be?]

[Although the position of the Red Dragon's daughter in your heart cannot be compared with the witch, the witch, who is plowed by you every day, is most aware of this fact.]

[On your clear determination, the name of Morgan Le Fay is engraved, and for Artoria, you have nothing more than pity. You can feel her feelings for you, but your intention to shoot down her fate comes from sympathy for someone in the same situation, not that thing called 'love.']

[Just hope that in the next battle, she can withstand a few more swords.]

[Autumn of the second year.]

[Before the crops mature, they still all wither.]

[You continue to improve your skills, even developing an all-weather temperature and humidity control system through the construction of shadow magecraft, making it impossible to have such superior farming conditions even in the 21st century.]

[Autumn of the third year.]

[The outcome remains unchanged.]

[You silently gaze at the bodies of the fallen wheat spikes on the field, not uttering a word.]

[The inexplicable failure of farming, the illogical phenomenon that attempts to create more fertile and productive Age of Gods varieties but inevitably decays before maturation, is something that cannot be explained by magic alone, but rather...]

"Do not need to try anymore, Alvin."

Autumn light strokes, and the earthly scenery is clear.

A babbling brook flows gently, red maple leaves flutter and fall. The autumn of the Isle of Britain remains as beautiful and enchanting as ever, like a timeless and magnificent painting.

However, before Alvin, lies a scene of decay and demise.

The British witch stands beside the increasingly tall silver-haired young man, her azure eyes gazing at the lifeless and ashen landscape before her.

"No need to blame yourself, you've done your best. This is not your fault. It's the existence of these crops that has been 'rejected.'"

"Rejected..."

Murmuring this word.

The young man's voice is very soft.

In the iron-gray eyes, there is no ripple.

"Rejected by what?"

"...Rejected by the will of this world, Gaia."

Morgan lowers her eyelids, looking down at the earth beneath her feet.

"I've guessed the reason, Alvin. You should know too. Britain is currently undergoing the decline of the Age of Gods. Since the beginning of the Common Era, the connection between humans and gods has been severed, this is the inevitable trend."

"In the coming decades, the true ether on this island will gradually recede back into the Inner Sea of the Planet. This planet will not allow the appearance of crops that can continue the Age of Gods, defying fate."

"If your research succeeds, it will save countless lives on this island, predictably delaying the decline of the Age of Gods. So, by the will of the world itself..."

"...Your research has been 'rejected' by it."

"I see."

After the final gaze at the withering death before him, the young man holds the witch's hand, turns without looking back, and leaves.

"Let's go, Morgan, and see Ector."

"Next spring, we'll come again."

"I won't give up this research."

"The will of the world? Gaia?"

"It is not worthy of my submission."

[You did not abandon your research but instead began seeking ways to break free from these fateful constraints.]

[Similar to Merlin's seemingly perfect Utopia, even the will of the world can never be a flawless entity.]

[Proficient in debugging, you aimed to find the world's loopholes and inject the virus called the ultimate life form into it.]

[As time passed, unlike you, the son of the White Dragon hidden in the wild, Artoria's reputation was gradually becoming more and more prominent. Her various deeds kept reaching your ears.]

[Rumors had it that she single-handedly repelled a surging tide of beasts and distributed the spoils to the suffering people.]

[The pure and immaculate knight princess traveled across the islands and counties of Britannia, warmly welcomed at every stop.]

[Her noble virtues and outstanding achievements spread far and wide on this island, much like the infamous and wicked King Vortigern. Now, her fame was known to everyone.]

[Many renowned knights admired her, and extraordinary individuals flocked to follow her, gathering behind her.]

[Though only a fifteen-year-old girl, she gradually led a widely renowned knight brigade, upholding the ideal of equality for everyone at the Round Table, praised as the 'Sacred and Radiant Knights of the Round Table.']

[Under Artoria's leadership,]

[The Knights of the Round Table began harassing and guerrilla attacking the army of King Vortigern.]

[Gradually slowing down the steps of Vortigern's iron cavalry conquest.]

[This, in turn, led to the increasing prominence of the Round Table, forming a vast and responsive momentum.]

[More and more Celts began to believe that Artoria was the destined savior to overthrow the cruel rule of King Vortigern.]

[Truly, after parting for three days, a new perspective is gained.]

[The girl who couldn't hold a sword in front of you, attempting to persuade bandits and even the king with righteousness, has now become a renowned knight, stained with countless blood on her sword.]

[You understand that her rise is inevitable, with Merlin undoubtedly playing a significant role.]

[However, undeniable is that Artoria, she has grown into an opponent worthy of your attention.]

[Facing the arch-nemesis, the daughter of the Red Dragon, who gathered the rolling tides of this era, what has your old man, King Vortigern, been busy with lately?]

[He's been busy celebrating his son's birthday...]

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