Time passed quickly, and before anyone realized it, a full week had gone by.
During this time, the palace was filled with interesting rumors.
If this were the modern era, the headlines would probably look like this:
"Shocking! A Certain White-Haired Magus Got Cornered by the Knights of the Round Table!"
"The Thirteenth Knight is Actually Her. The Reason She Joined Will Leave You Speechless!"
Rumors like these spread everywhere.
At the same time, the transmigrators slowly began adjusting to life in ancient Britain.
But not long after, the sharper ones among them noticed something unusual.
The soil of the Age of Gods… seemed to be slowly fading away.
The Age of Gods....it was a term full of mythical weight.
In the world of magi, the Age of Gods was also known as the mythological era, a time when the world was enveloped in overwhelming "mystery," and the land itself overflowed with thick magical energy.
In the earliest days, magi living in that era didn't even need to pursue the Root.
At the dawn of the Age of Gods, the Root was practically right beside them.
By the time of ancient Britain, the soil of the Age of Gods had already begun to weaken.
In fact, even without Attila's interference, Britain would still have reached the final chapter of its legends once the Age of Gods disappeared.
Merlin had long known this.
That was why he chose to "raise" Artoria instead of intervening more directly.
But recently, he made a different choice, to interfere, and to face the glorious end together with the rest of Britain.
"If the Age of Gods ends, will the White Dragon, King Arthur, and even Morgan le Fay all disappear in the future…?"
When people realized that the Age of Gods was fading, they all began secretly discussing it.
Some felt pity, some felt sympathy, and of course, there were also people who were quietly gloating, enjoying the chaos from the sidelines.
Tiamat sat by the window, looking slightly worried as she gazed outside, or rather, at the "mana" drifting faintly in the air.
As someone who had already lived once, she could clearly sense that the land of the Age of Gods was indeed diminishing.
The rate was slow, but at this pace, the mana of the Age of Gods might completely disappear one day in the future.
And when that time comes, neither the magi of the Age of Gods nor the White Dragon would be able to survive.
Of course, she still believed that person might be able to turn the situation around.
But even then, there was one obstacle they could not avoid, history.
After all, in the legends of the past, King Arthur and her Britain completely disappeared in the end.
If Britain continued to exist until the modern era, what would happen?
There was only one answer, it might be "cut away" by history.
No matter how powerful Alvin or Britain became, they could never resist the wheels of history.
Alvin had prepared himself for this long ago.
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Inside the Hall of the King,
Alvin, as usual, handed a document to Artoria and said, "There seem to be a lot of rumors circulating outside recently."
As the king's right hand, his daily work consisted of staying by her side, preparing documents like now, making tea, or simply chatting with her.
Of course, sometimes chatting led them to the royal bedchamber.
A perfect example of what people mean when they say, when there is work, the secretary does the work, and when there isn't, the secretary is the work.
"It's not rumors, it's simply the truth."
Artoria replied calmly.
Hearing that, Alvin instinctively turned to look at her beautiful and serene profile.
Her face showed no emotion at all, as if she already knew how the future would unfold.
If this had been the old Artoria, she definitely would not be reacting this calmly to such terrible news.
But now, she seemed as if she had already accepted everything, something he found hard to understand.
Noticing the confusion in his eyes, she raised her head and met his gaze, a faint smile appearing on her lips. "Merlin talked to me last time."
Alvin froze for a moment, then quickly understood. "So he already told you everything?"
Artoria nodded lightly.
Britain was at the final stage of the Age of Gods, and when the Age of Gods ended, not even the greatest leader could stop the collapse.
Not long ago, Merlin had informed her of that cruel truth.
Even though the transmigrator's arrival had brought Britain resources like food and all..but, the flow of history could not be reversed.
Technically, they could try to fight against the flow of history, but doing so would cause the future Britain to become something entirely different.
A Lostbelt.
A twisted choice, a history that should not exist, a path of prosperity born from error would eventually be carved away from the proper timeline.
That was what people called a Lostbelt.
Alvin was silent for a moment before speaking helplessly. "I was planning to tell you a little later."
Hearing his words, Artoria showed a rare gentle smile. "Were you worried I couldn't handle it?"
Seeing him remain silent, she continued, "If it was the past me, I definitely wouldn't have been able to accept it."
As she spoke, she walked toward the entrance of the hall and gazed at the quiet, star-lit plains beyond.
At this moment, her clear blue eyes were unusually calm.
In the original Type-Moon, she had been unable to accept the collapse of her kingdom.
That was why she answered the call of the Holy Grail War, hoping to redo everything.
But in this worldline, she seemed to have accepted her fate with surprising composure.
She turned and looked at the young man behind her.
Alvin stood there, silently watching her.
"But now, I think I can face the ending calmly, as long as I'm with you and my sister."
When she finished speaking, she reached her hand toward him.
Her golden hair, her mature and elegant beauty, and that soft gaze pulled Alvin's attention in instantly.
At that moment, a few small lines of text suddenly appeared before him.
[Even if the path ahead is eternal night, the King of Knights who has accepted everything still chooses to walk toward the nonexistent future with you, the following choices will not affect the ending, please choose freely.]
Looking at the flawless and stunning face of the King of Britain in front of him, Alvin only glanced briefly at the system's prompt before reaching out his hand toward her.
And the moment his fingertips touched Artoria's slender, slightly cool hand, before he could even savor the softness of her skin, another message quietly appeared.
[You have chosen to walk to the very end with the King of Knights. Congratulations, player, you have unlocked a special CG: The Promise Before the End of the Age of Gods]
[You have unlocked a special achievement: Twilight of the Age of Gods (Gold)]
[Twilight of the Age of Gods: The White Dragon is ultimately a mythical being. The new era has no vessel capable of carrying you. Wherever your feet touch becomes the land of the Age of Gods. (Allows you to temporarily fill the surrounding air with 'True Aether' from the peak period of the Age of Gods.)]
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