The last time Alaric saw the world covered in ice and snow was the last time. However, back then, he was still an ordinary person, unable to traverse this frozen land with just his physical body.
Even though he could move freely this time, Alaric still felt a chilling cold that seeped deep into his bones.
It had been an hour since the disturbance occurred. Despite sorting through the current information, Alaric had yet to leave this pure white world.
Based on the concentration of mana in the atmosphere, Alaric judged that time hadn't shifted too drastically.
Other than that, he knew nothing about the current situation.
Although he was a modern person, he could only fumble around like a savage, trying to figure out what was going on.
If it were merely a lack of information, that would still be manageable—once he left this white world, he would find a way to gather intel and confirm the current era.
However, not long after he started moving, a new anomaly appeared.
It was simple—
Swish.
A petite figure wrapped in a crimson cloak flickered into Alaric's field of vision.
The tattered cloak shrouded the figure's face so well that Alaric couldn't recognize its identity.
Hollow, illusory, like a mere phantom—this crimson figure.
After Alaric left the area where Finis Chaldea was supposed to exist, this figure quietly appeared in his sight.
Before that, he hadn't even noticed any trace of its arrival.
And the moment he saw this crimson figure, Alaric immediately understood one thing—
.Counter Guardian.
A force of suppression, a monster that had manifested to prevent him from leaving this domain beyond human comprehension.
The key point was Counter—it could never act first; it only responded to actions that had already occurred.
That was the reason for their current equilibrium: If you don't move, I won't move.
'Why is this happening?'
Alaric didn't think his entry into human territory would be a major catastrophe. Even if he had malicious intent, he would have to assess the situation first.
Besides, weren't Counter Guardians only supposed to appear when someone sought to reach the Root?
Searching his mind for what little knowledge he had, Alaric confirmed the identity and purpose of this presence. However, this only made him more curious.
Why would a perfectly innocent citizen like me be targeted?
But no matter how he tried to communicate, the petite figure remained silent, merely gazing at him quietly.
It followed his every movement as if it only existed within his field of vision—an illusionary mirage.
Having failed to get any response, Alaric eventually lost interest in the crimson figure. As time passed, he also gained a better grasp of his current magical energy consumption and recovery rate.
The Mana in the atmosphere was not the True Ether of the Age of Gods, but the Fifth Imaginary Element, proven by the First Magician. Due to the advance of time, it had begun to thin.
Generating magical energy from the Great Source alone required an immense amount of resources and time to fill his body. While his Dragon Heart could generate magic from his personal Small Source, it was unnecessary.
With his current reserves, as long as he avoided high-intensity combat—or more specifically, battles at a Servant's level—his consumption remained well within his recovery range.
Step. Step.
Alaric took two steps forward, his body radiating a faint black aurora.
The wings of Machine Dragon unfurled, releasing a powerful burst of light and flames, propelling him forward at high speed!
Like a black aurora, he streaked across this world beyond human comprehension!
An unobserved radiance, blooming in this era, attempting to escape from a domain untouched by humanity!
As time passed, Alaric finally saw a different landscape—a vast ocean dotted with floating icebergs. However, at that moment—
The crimson figure, even within his sight, finally spoke:
"Why do you want to leave?"
The words left no trace in the world, resonating only within Alaric's heart as if they were merely his thoughts.
"Isn't it obvious?"
Without the slightest hesitation, not even in the face of this Counter Guardian, Alaric exuded absolute confidence. He laughed and said,
"How the hell is anyone supposed to live in this godforsaken place?"
Swish. Swish!
As his magical energy settled, the black dragon wings behind him slowly folded, hanging like cold, sharp blades.
Gazing at the surging ocean, Alaric found himself hesitating for the first time in a while.
Which way should I go?
Although he could use celestial observations to determine latitude and longitude, choosing a destination was a different matter altogether.
Just as he was lost in thought, an inexplicable sensation surged within him—an unnamed bond, tied to him since the dawn of his existence—the Bond of Dragons.
A thread of destiny, stretching across time and space, linking to his very being.
Realizing this, Alaric turned his gaze toward the horizon.
Massive icebergs rose and fell in the deep sea, erasing all traces of human history.
The world's extreme points—symbols of absolute mystique.
"Farewell—"
Fixing his eyes on the crimson figure still within his sight, Alaric waved and said,
"I won't stop you if you still want to follow me."
If the Counter Guardian could continue following him even after he left this extreme domain, then Alaric would have to accept his fate.
He couldn't make contact with them at all, so even his Mystic Eyes of Death Perception were useless.
Taking a deep breath, Alaric plunged into the sea, deploying his Machine Dragon Wings to propel himself through the deep waters at extreme speed!
Following that miraculous thread of fate, he surged forward!
In the depths of the ocean, the boundaries of the world seemed insignificant.
Absolute freedom stretched before him!
Time lost its meaning as seawater evaporated upon contact with his magical aura. The crushing pressure of the abyss was meaningless to him.
Swish. Swish.
The ocean had always been the cradle of life, the source of all existence.
Now, as the Last Dragon emerged from a realm beyond human comprehension, he successfully made landfall—
...
...
...
Upon the British Isles, the land where the oldest dragon species perished, and once ruled by the King of Knights—Artoria Pendragon.
Tap. Tap.
Soaking wet, Alaric brushed back his pure white hair to clear his vision.
Soon, he spotted a blonde woman with a surprised expression.
Alaric smiled and asked,
"Miss, could you tell me where this is?"
Even before landing, he had expanded his perception to confirm his location. To avoid causing trouble, he deactivated his Machine Dragon Wings ahead of time and swum ashore manually.
After hearing his question, the blonde woman, still slightly dazed, nodded and replied:
"This is Norwich. Where did you come from?"
Through their conversation, Alaric confirmed his current location and time—
The British Isles – The United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland.
Commonly known as the United Kingdom, or simply Britain.
And the year—
1990.
Far from the era to which Chaldea was supposed to return.
It was impossible to determine the exact cause, but through this journey, Alaric was able to confirm one thing—
This was still an era with a future, without any catastrophic disaster that would destroy humanity or engulf the world.
The future that Alaric had always sought to reach.
If this had been before his experience at the Temple of Time, Alaric might have gladly accepted this reality and simply lived an idle life.
But now, he couldn't stop. Not to mention the Counter Guardian, which, though seemingly vanished, felt as if it was always watching him.
Alaric knew that his current situation was far from optimistic—he had to find a solution.
After bidding farewell to the blonde woman whose name he had never learned, the undocumented, stateless Alaric embarked on a new journey of clandestine travel.
He was well aware of the place that the blonde woman had mentioned—Norwich.
Located in the easternmost part of England, Norwich was the central city of the East Anglia region. Not only was it adjacent to beautiful coastal areas, but it was also surrounded by The Broads, the largest wetland reserve in the UK. It was widely recognized as the greenest city in the country.
But Norwich itself was of secondary importance. For Alaric, the most significant aspect of the UK was still the Mage's Association.
The Mage's Association was broadly divided into three branches: the Clock Tower, Atlas Institute, and Wandering Sea.
Having previously encountered the Atlas Institute, there was little need for further elaboration. Situated in the Atlas Mountains of Egypt, a research organization where alchemists gathered. Compared to the other branches, it adhered strictly to secrecy.
The Wandering Sea, on the other hand, was a massive mountain adrift in the North Atlantic.
Unlike the Clock Tower, which sought the advancement of magecraft, the true nature of the Wandering Sea remained unknown.
It was regarded as the prototype of the Mage's Association, focusing on human modification and the study of the Age of God's Magecraft. The organization believed that magecraft from the Age of Gods was supreme, while post-Christian Era magecraft was nothing more than child's play.
Compared to the other two, which were both highly secretive and conservative, the Clock Tower, located in London, appeared far more progressive.
The Clock Tower was considered the headquarters of the Mage's Association, its main facility situated on the outskirts of London.
Among the three branches, it was the newest, with a history of roughly 2,000 years, having been established in Year 1 AD as the latest research institution, where it continued to grow and develop.
The Western European region was under the influence of the Clock Tower, with 90% of Western European magi choosing to join it. Unlike the outdated Wandering Sea, the Clock Tower was full of new theories and innovations.
"London… The Clock Tower should be there, right?"
Despite having interacted with numerous top-tier magi, Alaric still needed more magical knowledge and assistance.
He couldn't accomplish much on his own.
As someone practically illiterate in magecraft, Alaric was certain of that.
As for whether he could join the Clock Tower, he wasn't too concerned—surely he wouldn't be considered a mere muggle, right?
Currently, the Clock Tower was the center of the Mage's Association, effectively making it the Association itself. With 90% of Western European magi affiliating with it, it also had branches worldwide.
After an aptitude assessment and soul color registration, one would officially become a member of the Association.
With a scholar's mindset and not a penny to his name, Alaric sat atop a pile of hay, pulled by a tractor that was essentially a makeshift hitchhike. While chatting with the talkative old farmer, he began his journey to London.
The UK wasn't particularly large, and once Alaric had confirmed his destination, it didn't take long for him to arrive.
Even with nothing but hitchhiking, taking on odd jobs to blend into modern society, and avoiding detection as an undocumented individual to prevent deportation, it took him no more than six to seven days to reach London.