The calamity happened in an instant. The clan armies that followed their chieftains into Camelot had no awareness, no expectation, no preparation for what was about to unfold. When Woodwose, corrupted by the newly born Curse after passing through the Vein Corridor, became the next calamity and began devouring the surrounding fairies without mercy, all the fairies froze as if bound, momentarily forgetting even how to flee.
They stared in horror at the monstrous giant whose slightest gesture could demolish the city's buildings, convinced they were trapped inside a living nightmare. Only the death of their own finally jolted true fear back into them.
"It hurts… it hurts… it hurts!"
"Please! Stop! Please stop!"
"Don't set us on fire! It's so hot! I'm burning alive!"
"Don't bully everyone! Don't bully us!"
"It hurts, it hurts, it hurts—!"
"I'm dying, I'm dying, I'm dy—…!"
The familiar screams refused to stop. Muryan of the Wing Clan, the first chieftain to collapse, finally snapped the other fairies back to their senses. They scattered in a panic, running wildly in every direction.
But this only drew the attention of the giant beast, driven solely by destructive instinct. The speed that had always been the fairies' pride—far surpassing that of humans—now only hastened their deaths as the beast descended on them.
Squish.
Like insects crushed underfoot, they burst with crisp sounds, reduced to unrecognizable flesh smeared across brick and soil.
"What are you panicking for! Raise the heavy crossbows! Shoot that thing! Cover me!"
Spriggan forced himself to remain calm, barking orders to the soldiers who had not yet fled, demanding they engage Woodwose, now fully transformed into a calamity beast.
Yet even the Earth Clan's heavy crossbows—feared by even the strongest Fang Fairies—splintered uselessly upon impact, scattering into the dirt.
"Impossible… impossible… not even a scratch…"
Spriggan never imagined the power gap would be this vast. His last shred of composure shattered. He turned and ran, abandoning his soldiers without hesitation.
"Lord Spriggan, don't leave us!"
The Earth Clan fairies too cast aside their armor and fled, dodging collapsing houses and flaming beams as they tried to escape the devastated remains of Camelot.
Then a watchtower collapsed with a thunderous crash, blocking the path between Spriggan and the other fairies. At first he called out several times, but his voice quickly grew faint, then intermittent, and eventually vanished entirely.
The temperature of the air continued rising without warning. The fairies with the weakest heat tolerance were the first to fall, collapsing to the ground. In an instant, their bodies evaporated completely, leaving only charred husks behind.
More fairies were rapidly transformed into Moss by the Curse, immediately attacking their kin only a few steps away. Camelot—once the fairies' symbol of sanctuary—had become a burning maw, devouring the very same fairies who followed their chieftains inside to settle accounts with the Queen.
The calamity beast unleashed a string of roars. Hearing the massive yet gradually fading growls, Aurora finally let out a shaky breath of relief.
This scheming Wind Clan chieftain realized something was wrong the moment she witnessed Woodwose, already on the verge of Rampage, instantly killed by the God King without him even raising a hand. Whatever lay between the God King and the Queen did not matter. What mattered was that, should he wish it, the God King could likely defeat Queen Morgan without difficulty.
Taking advantage of the distraction caused when the God King left, Aurora abandoned her clan's fairies first. With only a handful of personal guards, she fled westward out of Camelot.
Not only Camelot, but the fields beyond the walls were burning as well. Dust choked the air, thick and scorching, and every breath felt like it might set the lungs on fire. Aurora and her personal guards fled all the way to the river beyond the city.
"Camelot is destroyed, and Salisbury is nearly gone..." Aurora cupped the river water in her hands. Normally, she would never lower herself to drink such filthy water, but now she had no choice but to swallow it to cool her burning throat. "Head north. The north should still—"
She turned back, maintaining her usual graceful composure as she issued her command.
The Mirror Clan and the King Clan should still be intact. As long as she reached them, she could start over. With her talent for words and acting, she was certain she could sway the fairies of those two clans...
But as the thought crossed her mind, Aurora suddenly sensed something wrong. Her guards were slowly backing away from her.
"What are you doing? Why are you retreating?" Aurora asked, displeased.
These were the guards she had personally selected. They would never harbor disloyalty. Anyone disobedient had long since been turned into an insect.
"Lady Aurora... Lady Aurora is becoming a Moss! Quickly, run—"
Before the fairy could finish, Aurora raised her hand and turned them into a tiny bug—though its color resembled the Moss of old tales rather than an ordinary insect.
Feeling something strange, Aurora looked down and saw that her arm was already pitch black.
"My hand..."
Still unable to understand, she ignored her fleeing attendants and turned toward the river.
There, in the reflection, was a face she didn't recognize.
It looked like her, but only halfway.
The other half was dark as a shadow.
"Who is this? Who dares joke with me? At a time like this, how could—" Aurora splashed the water irritably, breaking the reflection.
As the surface settled, the scattered image reformed.
It was still the same face.
"Is this... mine?"
Finally understanding, Aurora clawed desperately at the Moss-blackened half of her face, trying to tear the curse away. But only one thing happened—her clean hand became tainted as well.
The uncorrupted half of her face began to bleed. Aurora tore at her cheek in growing hysteria. She couldn't accept it. She would never accept it.
She was a wind fairy. She was the chieftain of the Wind Clan. She was the most beautiful fairy in all Britannia.
Only she was the most beautiful. Only she could be the most beautiful.
Whether it was the Queen or any other creature, anyone who interfered with the fairies' worship of her had to disappear. She had finally found the chance, finally seized the leverage to overthrow Morgan—so why had it become like this?
Why...
"No... no... this isn't my face... this isn't me..."
She tore her own face into an unrecognizable ruin, screaming hoarsely in madness.
The transformation into a Moss accelerated when a fairy lost its purpose or the meaning of its existence. Once Aurora realized she was being consumed by the Curse, the foundation of her will collapsed entirely, turning her into something even more mindless than Woodwose.
At last, bleeding and broken, Aurora fell beside the riverbank, staring at the encroaching Moss and flames.
I don't want to die here. I don't want to turn into something so hideous.
No... no...
In her futile struggle, the wind fairy became a newly born Moss.