Outside the chalk-white walls of Camelot, on an empty grassland.
Alaric and Artoria stood together.
Looking back, the distant city of Camelot was barely visible. Raising their eyes, they saw dark clouds suddenly shroud the sky, obscuring the once-bright moonlight and starlight.
The world plunged into darkness.
Undoubtedly, this was Alaric's doing... a small trick to cloak himself in the night, hoping the darkness would conceal his current form.
But there was no need to hide anymore.
"I should have realized sooner."
Seeing Alaric standing there, hesitant to transform into his dragon form, Artoria's face showed deep regret.
She truly should have realized sooner.
Before, Alaric had always disliked taking human form. He preferred living alone in the valley, refusing to shapeshift into a human to blend into villages or towns.
But ever since he defeated the vile Vortigern, he had maintained his human appearance, never reverting to his draconic form.
Until now, she had thought this was a sign of Alaric's "growth." From a child to an adult, willing to present himself as human.
But after she summoned the Knights of the Round Table from the Throne of Heroes and learned from them about that sorrowful yet "correct" History...
"To become a king, one must always pay a price."
"And if I haven't felt the pain, it means someone else has paid that price for me."
"So, tell me. What price did you pay to fulfill my ideal?"
At Artoria's plea, Alaric fell silent.
Then, with his body at the center, a black whirlwind erupted.
The dark wind was vicious, carrying curses of anger and despair, as if it sought to force those emotions into the king's very being.
Yet, facing this malevolent gust, Artoria did not flinch.
She didn't even blink, instead straining her eyes wide to see Alaric's true form clearly.
... Still a white dragon.
But compared to the dragon that once radiated domineering presence and divine majesty, this one had lost its beautiful radiance.
Its once robust body was now gaunt, its skin pale as bone, its form more ferocious and terrifying. Ink-black darkness completely covered the skull, and its wings... most strikingly... were almost entirely shrouded in black.
Blue-Eyes White Dragon of Sin.
A white dragon fallen into anger and curses, its indomitable will resisting the clamor of malice, yet no longer bearing its former divine splendor.
"You…"
Artoria's heart ached.
She stared wide-eyed, searching for something, anything. Yet she could not reconcile this fearsome, skeletal dragon with the small, radiant hatchling she had once shared meals with and talked to under the stars.
"I…"
Artoria looked at her hands, her face showing a rare expression of helplessness and confusion.
Though she had suspected this outcome, seeing Alaric's current state still struck her with dread.
Was it worth it?
She asked herself.
On one side, the happiness and smiles of Britannia's countless people; on the other, the hatchling she had raised, once radiant with divine light, now fallen into darkness.
Weighing these two on the scales of fate was too tormenting, too corrosive to reason.
"But... "
As Artoria stood in silent grief, Alaric spoke.
"You don't need to look so devastated."
Pointing to his current form, he spoke in a calm, steady tone.
"It's only a frightening appearance. This is hardly a big deal to me… I can endure it for at least three thousand years."
Three thousand years... seas could turn to mulberry fields. Let alone Camelot, with the planet's history of calamities, whether Britannia or its people would even exist by then was another matter entirely.
"So, you can rest easy. Your Knights of the Round Table didn't come to this era because of this."
Another whirlwind rose, and Alaric, back in human form, patted Artoria's shoulder, assuring her things weren't as dire as she imagined.
... But from another perspective, the situation was actually far worse.
Alaric was right. A mere "slightly altered" Camelot was nothing. While it did tweak history a bit, the Counter Force wouldn't send seven Knights of the Round Table for such a minor issue.
And with the six Knights of the Round Table already present in this world… all thirteen knights were now gathered, forming an extraordinary lineup in this twilight of the Age of Gods.
So, the question arose.
What existence was formidable enough to warrant the united efforts of all thirteen Knights of the Round Table?
"Well, that's a tough one to guess, isn't it?"
"Cath Palug, it wouldn't be you, would it?"
Suddenly, a man's voice rang out in the darkness.
At the same time, the indignant cry of a small white beast echoed:
"Fou?"
"Fou fou fou fou fou fou! (You're the one who deserves to die!)"
…
An unexpected intruder... a magus.
Yet, not entirely unexpected.
He was always like this, appearing out of nowhere when no one expected him and vanishing when everyone was desperate to find him.
"Fou... "
Upon seeing Alaric, the small white beast named Cath Palug immediately broke free from the magus's arms. Like a squirrel, it scampered onto Alaric's body, deftly claiming its usual perch on his right shoulder.
"Merlin???"
"Ah, good evening, my king."
"While I'm proud to have raised an exceptional king… it seems, in terms of nurturing talent, you've surpassed even me."
"???"
"I'd love to reveal the truth for you, but perhaps it's best if His Divine Majesty tells you himself."
"Or rather, you could address him as such."
"Beast... the Beast IV, bearing the Principle of Exaltation, a calamity rejected by human history!"
---
Every 200 power stones 1 bonus chapter will be uploaded faster.
And if you want to read 30 chapters early, you can visit: Patre on . com / KangTL (REMOVE SPACE)