For three days, Priest Andrew was paraded through the streets; for three days, he was burned at the stake. Throughout these six days, no anomalies occurred.
It wasn't until the seventh day, when Guinevere scattered the remaining ashes of Priest Andrew, that this execution, which served as a declaration of war against the Holy Church, finally came to an end.
Throughout those seven days, the Barthomeloi Family Head and others detected Holy Church members attempting to infiltrate the crowd, but none dared to intervene.
Guinevere had deliberately spared them, intending for them to carry news of Priest Andrew's gruesome fate back to the Holy Church, thereby announcing her final decision.
With the execution concluded and Camelot's stance firmly established, more and more Mages began gathering near Camelot City. Through the Barthomeloi Family Head, they presented Guinevere with various cooperation agreements.
"You mean to say these gems were a small gift from an old man named Zelretch? He thanked me for my firm stance against the Holy Church, saying I gave him something worth laughing about in his long, tedious existence?"
"Indeed, Your Majesty. You may not know him, but he's a venerable figure among us Mages, someone who can even share a joke with the Great Mage Merlin."
Across from her sat the current Barthomeloi Family Head, holding a badge inlaid with a gem that shimmered with iridescent light—Zelretch's "small gift."
Hearing only the name, Guinevere might have suspected it was a coincidence. But holding the Magecraft Mystic Code adorned with an artificial gemstone, and hearing him casually converse with Merlin, she knew her initial intuition was correct.
Kischur Zelretch Schweinorg, one of only five 'Magicians' in the Type-Moon World, bore titles such as the Old Man of the Jewels, Archmage Marshal, and Kaleidoscope. He wielded the Second Magic, allowing him to traverse countless parallel universes.
Guinevere knew this man was a genuine Grand Magician. For him to take notice of her...
It could only mean her uncompromising stance against the Holy Church had pleased him.
In Guinevere's memories from her previous life, the Old Man of the Jewels had been notoriously inflexible, viewing the later Mage's Association (Clock Tower) as weak and spineless.
"Lord Barthomeloi, please convey my gratitude to Lord Zelretch."
At its center lay an artificial gemstone shimmering with iridescent light. Surrounding it were metal emblems: the red dragon of Camelot and Guinevere's own family crest. The overall design gave the Magecraft Mystic Code a striking resemblance to a magical girl's transformation device.
The moment Guinevere grasped the gift, she realized she had been overthinking things. This Magecraft Mystic Code was truly a small, simple object—perfect for her and aligned with her original purpose in practicing Jewel Magecraft.
Contained within it were seven Reinforcement Magecraft spells, each activated by channeling varying amounts of Mana. As long as it remained undamaged, it could be used infinitely.
Furthermore, as a Mystic Code constructed around a gemstone core, it shared a fundamental property of Jewel Magecraft: it could be detonated as a last resort. Guinevere couldn't yet gauge the explosive force, but she suspected it would at least match the destructive power of her Replica Holy Sword Release.
"Your Majesty, I'm delighted you appreciate the gift. Lord Zelretch will be pleased to hear this as well."
Bathed in sunlight, Guinevere conversed with the Barthomeloi Family Head in the Magecraft Department of the Knight Academy.
As time passed, they had identified the site for the planned independent Magecraft Academy.
Not far from present-day London, they had discovered a natural underground maze. Preliminary exploration revealed it to be a Spirit Tomb, piled high with the remains of countless Phantasmal Beasts.
They had set their sights on this location, intending to establish a new Magecraft Academy here and jointly develop the Spirit Tomb with the Camelot Kingdom, sharing the profits.
The Camelot Kingdom, and Guinevere's name, would be eternally etched into the founding history of the soon-to-be-built Magecraft Academy.
"Then let's formalize a contract," Guinevere said. "The profits from the Albion Spirit Tomb will be split seven shares to the Camelot Kingdom and three shares to you Mages. Even if the Camelot Kingdom falls in the future, this share of the profits will continue to be granted to my descendants, the Pendragon bloodline."
"Your Highness, this is a fair agreement," the Barthomeloi Family Head replied.
The Spirit Tomb lay within the Camelot Kingdom's territory. Should they choose to develop it independently without the Mages, it wouldn't be impossible. Moreover, the kingdom would provide support and protection during the academy's construction and the tomb's development.
In the eyes of the Barthomeloi Family Head, the fact that he and the Mages could secure thirty percent of the profits was thanks to Guinevere's lack of understanding of the Spirit Tomb's significance and the lingering influence of the Old Man of the Jewels' lavish gifts.
Of course, Guinevere's need for the Mages' power remained the most fundamental reason.
"Your Highness, may your upcoming campaigns be successful for you and the Camelot Kingdom."
The contract was sealed, with violators facing the severing of their bloodline. From that moment forward, any Mage wishing to participate in the Spirit Tomb's development would first have to sign the contract, bearing witness to the Camelot Kingdom and her name.
Guinevere Pendragon—this was now her full name after marrying the King of Knights.
After the Barthomeloi Family Head departed, Guinevere, dragging her slightly protruding belly from the False Pregnancy Magecraft, made her way to Morgan's underground workshop.
Here, Mordred—a creation born of the King of Knights' and Guinevere's combined efforts, infused with the essence of Morgan's Magecraft—was growing steadily.
"You're here again today? Don't you have anything else to do?" Morgan asked, her voice laced with amusement.
The tiny Mordred, no bigger than two fingers, already displayed the distinct form of an infant. Beside her, Morgan, who could be considered her mother, sat reading a newly acquired book of Magecraft, providing Mordred with prenatal education.
"Must I have a reason to visit?" Guinevere retorted. "Besides, you don't need to be here all day. You've set up so many magical traps—nothing could possibly go wrong."
"But what if? What if we have to announce you miscarried from overwork? Hmm? What's that in your hand?"
Still wearing her White Lily Dress, Morgan, illuminated by candlelight, exuded an aura of quiet refinement, as if her recent days spent studying at home had truly infused her with scholarly refinement.
Under Morgan's watchful gaze, Guinevere tactfully shook the gem Old Man of the Jewels had gifted her and offered it to Morgan.
"You said the Old Man of the Jewels gave this to you? Do you even know who he is? Aren't you going to seize this opportunity to meet him?"
"Lady Morgan, precisely because I know who he is, I'm taking what I can get and leaving it at that. Such powerful figures tend to be capricious. Getting involved with them could be a blessing or a curse, and it's hard to tell which.
Besides, I can't just demand an audience with him. If he wants to meet me, he'll come to my door himself."
Holding the Old Man of the Jewels' gift and listening to Guinevere's words, Morgan felt a flicker of surprise. She had only heard of this Archmage Marshal, yet Guinevere spoke as if she understood his very nature.
But she didn't want to pry into Guinevere's secrets, or perhaps she believed the King of Knights' accidental revelation during the three-person dinner that Guinevere could see the future.
"Speaking of which, Guinevere, are you giving me this Magecraft Mystic Code as a gift? Or are you just trying to make me jealous?"
"If you can replicate a Mystic Code with a similar effect, I'll give it to you.
If not, then I'll just lend it to you for research. I can't decipher its intricate mechanisms, but I suspect you might understand some of them. Perhaps it could help you advance your Magecraft further."
Though Morgan's offer to "give it to herself" was meant as a jest, the implication that Guinevere had been thinking of her made Morgan set down the Magecraft Mystic Code and open her arms.
"I really want to thank you, so why don't you come and do it with me? I promise my foolish sister won't find out."
"No need," Guinevere replied stiffly.
"Oh, then no reward for you," Morgan said, picking up the Mystic Code again. Ignoring Guinevere's twitching lips, she immediately began studying it, a smile playing on her lips. She wouldn't mind at all if Guinevere lunged at her.