Deep within the Orbital Grand Temple, in the detached palace only a single step away from the Fantasy Tree…
Another battle was reaching its boiling point.
Scáthach and Caenis streaked through the halls like purple and golden meteors, darting back and forth without pause.
They collided, separated, and collided again. Each exchange burst with tremendous force, and the divine stone pillars of the palace were carved with one terrifying scar after another.
Kirschtaria didn't spare it a glance. He had his own unimaginable opponent to contend with.
The Mana reaction pouring in from the Great Altar was too dense to ignore. The tremors it caused even reached the Fantasy Tree.
Kirschtaria's expression was grave as he fixed his eyes on Morgan.
"Shouldn't you spare a thought for how your husband is doing, Great Witch?"
"I'm always thinking of him," Morgan replied coolly, staring at Kirschtaria from across the hall. "That's exactly why I want to end this battle quickly and go support my husband. Human Magi who can push me this far are rare. Besides my husband, only the King of Magecraft has ever been this troublesome."
"To be compared to those two is an honor," Kirschtaria said with a polite smile.
"Save the pleasantries." Morgan studied him. "You don't seem all that worried about your ally, Kirschtaria Wodime."
"It's nothing complicated," Kirschtaria said. "Our ideals align, so we became allies. But our end goals contradict each other, so sooner or later we'll become enemies. On 'reviving the Age of Gods,' I share the same intent as the Great God Zeus. But his final goal is to flee Earth—to 'abandon this planet and return to the cosmos'…"
Morgan nodded, understanding at once.
"I see. So you were never going to be compatible. And Chaldea is just the obstacle you have to clear away before your final showdown?"
"Not at all." Kirschtaria shook his head. "If you'd asked me at the very beginning of the Bleaching, I might have answered that way. But now… even if my resolve hasn't wavered, my certainty in the end is no longer absolute."
"You're impressively self-aware," Morgan said—not mocking him, but genuinely acknowledging it.
Once you understood what your opponent truly was, clinging to blind confidence would be the most foolish thing of all.
"To be honest," Kirschtaria continued, "if Zeus meant to use the Interstellar Metropolis mountain range as a new starship and take his people with him into the sea of stars, I might have agreed. But you heard it yourself. Zeus intends to abandon the Olympian citizens who define him as a god. That isn't an 'Age of Gods.' It's no different from the divine era fading away in Proper Human History."
Morgan thought for a moment.
"That's true. Without humans, there's no point in 'preserving' an Age of Gods. And Zeus never needed that kind of thing in the first place, did he?"
"Exactly. Which is why even Europa—the divine consort from Proper Human History—can't sway Lostbelt Zeus's will." Kirschtaria shook his head with a helpless sigh. "Perhaps… this is the binding curse of the Primordial Source."
"The Primordial Source? You mean Zeus's… no, the origins of the Olympian Machine Gods?" Morgan pressed.
"The interstellar fleet—no matter how completely it gathers its functions—cannot defy the policy of the 'Primordial Father.' How tragic, my friend Zeus… no. Chaos."
Kirschtaria spoke another name.
Morgan narrowed her eyes.
"Chaos?"
In Greek myth, the origin of everything.
A supreme primordial existence, much like Tiamat in Mesopotamian myth.
And if the Olympian gods were Machine Gods, then Chaos could only be their prototype machine—or rather…
Their mothership.
Realizing that, Morgan understood something else as well.
Even if her husband defeated Zeus, the battle wouldn't truly end. Beyond that would be yet another god waiting.
"Looks like I've said too much." Kirschtaria chuckled and raised the wand in his hand. "But you and sensei are the embodiment of the ideal I seek in this Lostbelt."
Morgan lifted her magic spear and pointed it at him.
"Keep talking. What else? Tell me everything you know. I won't torture you."
"Can you really do that, benevolent Witch Queen of Britannia?" Kirschtaria sounded unconvinced. "Unlike Teacher, you may be powerful—but you lack the one thing a Magus absolutely needs: coldness."
As the Clock Tower's rising star, Kirschtaria had already seen through Morgan's weakness as a Magus.
Not cold enough.
Or rather, from the beginning she had never cultivated that truly ruthless, no-holds-barred "coldness."
"I do lack a Magus's 'coldness,'" Morgan admitted without hiding it. "But even so—"
Before she could finish, the constant tremors that had never ceased suddenly died away. In their place remained only an enormous Mana reaction, poised on the brink of spilling out.
Two distinct signatures.
One was unquestionably Shiomi.
The other was Zeus.
"Looks like the battle over there is nearing its end," Kirschtaria said. "Care to gamble? Will Teacher win… or will the Great God Zeus?"
"A meaningless bet. No matter what happens, I will always believe in my husband's victory."
Morgan slammed the butt of her magic spear into the ground.
A dark wave surged outward from her feet, spreading across the entire detached palace. In the blink of an eye, the floor transformed into a deep indigo lake.
The Magecraft duel—paused only for a heartbeat—began anew.
"Well said, Morgan!"
Scáthach's spear collided head-on with Caenis's lance, the two weapons grinding against each other without yielding an inch. Even in the midst of the clash, Scáthach voiced her approval of Morgan's answer.
"Whether Zeus lives or dies has nothing to do with me! But don't think you'll just keep winning forever!" Caenis roared.
"…It's not a matter of wanting to. It's a matter of whether you can."
With that, Scáthach kicked Caenis back, breaking the deadlock, and cast a glance toward Morgan's side of the battlefield.
Kirschtaria rose into the air, carving out a stable current of Mana within the chaotic atmosphere.
His effortless command over the Greater Source forced even Morgan to focus completely, drawing on her full power in preparation for what was coming.
"You are not my teacher," Kirschtaria said, looking at Morgan, "but you are a Magus without equal in this age. If you wish to learn more, then withstand this strike—and defeat me with something even more brilliant than my teacher's methods."
"That was my intention from the start. Since my husband entrusted this battlefield to me, it would be disappointing to return without meaningful results."
Morgan's fairy eyes shimmered with pale blue light. Then she lowered her voice, speaking so softly that only she could hear it.
"No… he wouldn't be disappointed over something like this. But I would resent myself for it later."
Whether at the Great Altar, or here in the detached palace before the Fantasy Tree—
Both battlefields had reached their final act.
No holding back. No retreat.
Each wagered their will itself—
All for the sake of ultimate victory.