Falling Mage and the Power of Divergence

The thirteen apostles belonging to the Episcopal Church are ranked in that order by sequence, but originally took the form of twelve apostles under the Holy Knight Arthur-One, with each squad present further down there. In other words, the Holy Knight Arthur-One is the captain of the Twelve Apostles, the only being allowed to lead them.

And now the twelve humans, made into ice marinates that spread before the eyes of Dalta, are the first twelve apostles. In other words, it is the first army to be inaugurated with the birth of the Kingdom of Leiria.

"The First Thirteen Apostles…"

D'Arta who gets stunned by sudden events, but it would rather be normal for him to react like that. Because Arthur said the first twelve apostles were his own men. If the word is true, Arthur will have lived in Leiria since history.

Dalta hardens into that too out of common sense truth to utter a word. As Arthur, on the other hand, approached his former men, he spoke to the person sitting at the center of it.

"Long time no see."

Arthur spoke to the only thirteenth person who was not iced, sitting in the center of that mass that was turned into twelve icepicks. I have a white beard stored in its mouth, and Santa Claus is exactly what I would judge it by its appearance. Such an old man was sitting on a wooden chair.

When the old man takes Arthur into his sight, he looks a little surprised, but immediately returns to his usual tone to answer.

"It's been a long time since I've heard of you."

"Hmm, I don't need a roundabout confirmation. Emris. Or Margin, no, would you prefer Merlin?

"Apparently it's real. Long time no see, Arthur."

When the man admitted that Arthur was real, he stopped pretending to be blurry.

And you're still the same.

"Sort of. Instead you're old, Emris."

"Naturally. Non is getting old, unlike you."

"Uh, Holy Knight... who's there...?

Dalta asks Arthur, who is finally able to utter the word. Naturally I would be concerned about the identity of an old man named Emris who was alone in a place like this.

"This is Emris. As you can see, it's a shady twist."

"Ho, what to say to the former master. But let's just admit it."

"Being a master of the Holy Knight means you have a long life too...?

"Non? Non is about eighty years old. Well, it's magically slowing down aging, so now..."

"You must be about three hundred and fifty-first"

"Three hundred!?

D'Arta startles me loudly at the size of that scale. I'm also surprised at the age of three hundred and fifty-first, but I can't hide my surprise at the word that I'm magically slowing down aging more than that.

I've never heard of it magically slowing down aging, etc. And that also applies to Arthur.

"Then how old is the Holy Knight..."

"Curse has kept him from getting old since he was thirteen."

"Well, if I said it at the age of thirteen in appearance, self-proclaimed twenty-seven, real age, about three hundred and twenty?

"Yeah, yeah, yeah!?

D'Arta can't keep up with understanding when he tells me that the young and perfect Arthur in front of him is over three hundred years old, etc. She gets hardened again, but Emris and Arthur keep talking.

"I mean, it's been almost three hundred years in the outside world."

"Oh, and it came out after 300 years. The Emperor of the Holy Night we've been waiting for."

"Right. Finally, it's time to unseal the knights of the round table..."

Emris gave a slightly curvy look as he saw the knights of the round table being iced around. That's the same with Arthur, whose expression just seems a little sad.

"Have you found the means to unseal it?

"Then I guess."

"Right. How many will come back?"

"All I can say is luck, so I can't say anything."

The safest and most likely way for Arthur to know how to restore the knights of the ice-soaked round table to their original appearance. But even with that method, it would be half as successful.

"Is that the girl there by the means of its opening?

"Hmm, is that D'Arta? This guy's different."

"Hmm, then the girl..."

"Not even the Emperor of Holy Night"

"Then why did you bring him here?

"It's happening."

Emris confused by Arthur's answer, but her attitude like that hasn't changed since three hundred years, so Emris is also used to it.

"So did he come here?

"Is that Master Noah? Never visited."

"Right. Apparently, they're not interested in the Lancelots."

"Nobody understands what he thinks."

"That's former minister. You know perfectly well."

Emris does not respond particularly to Arthur's sarcastic remarks. Because he knows exactly why Arthur resents Noah, and he understands the significance of what they're trying to do.

"Has Master Morgana changed?

"Looks like it. I'm on Avalon Island now."

"I miss Avalon Island."

Emris nostalgic as she recounts her own memory. For him, I haven't talked to him in three hundred years, so I wouldn't have a choice if I wanted to stick around and talk. But Arthur couldn't take his time either, so he immediately moved on.

"There's some stories to pile up, Emris. First I want to move the Lancelots to Avalon Island."

"But at one time..."

"I know. So please transfer magic."

"Have you already sunk the marking?

"I'm fine. There are coordinates on this paper."

"Right."

When Emris receives the paper, she uses red magic to ash the paper. But the next moment, when a great magic formation unfolds on the ground, one after the other, the knights of the iced round table disappear. When the exchange sounded twelve times, Hin, the knights of the round table, who had been there until earlier, were transferred to Avalon Island.

Having thus completed the protection of the knights of the round table, the three Arthurs went out of the basement outside the Episcopal Church. And Emris exclaims at the unfamiliar sight that has spread in front of her.

"Ho, I didn't know it would develop to this point in 300 years"

"It's too early to be surprised. Dacrea is dozens of times more developed."

"Oh, my God, are you going further up than this? But the sun is beautiful all the time"

Emris raises her voice as if she worships the sun rising high in the sky. People around them laugh bitterly when they see how it is, but if it's the first time they've seen the sun in three hundred years, his reaction nods as well.

"Let's just go. You can't stay forever."

"It was, it was. We must move on."

"Oh, um..."

So Dalta asks reluctantly. Since they resumed, D'Arta, who couldn't get into that unique tempo conversation, has finally pinched his mouth.

"What's up, D'Arta? The bathroom?"

"In the grass around there if you're in the bathroom... there's no grass... this is amazing"

"Not really. What are we going to do now?

Not only was my common sense overshadowed from earlier, but everything was a mystery if I tried from D'Arta, who was very clapped and had no understanding of the story at all.

But Arthur succinctly conveyed his next purpose because it was Dalta's reaction that was normal.

"We're going to Aquaristan. Pick up the people there."

"Ha ha... but I have yet to report to the Seven Wise Men..."

"Then I left the letter at the reception, so no problem. I'd rather get away with it."

"Huh?"

"I applied for paid time off on the writ, so by now they've had a rash. We'll get out of here before they find us."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah?

"Ho ho, that sounds like fun. Wow. I always like to sneak around."

So Arthur and the others went to Aquaristan this time.