Alaric floated high above, his gaze tinged with sorrow as he looked down at the three sea-bound islands below.
... They were so small.
"Or perhaps, I've simply grown too large."
Alaric observed the dozen Knights of the Round Table standing on the ground, now smaller than ants. He soared higher to let them witness his full form.
"So… so immense…"
Gawain looked up, his eyes filled with disbelief at the dragon's head, larger even than Camelot itself.
He had faced such a beast before... in that "correct" History, he and Artoria had fought Vortigern, who had merged with the island.
But even then, Vortigern was only the size of a city.
Alaric's scale now far exceeded his imagination.
Though he never doubted the king's ability to lead them to victory… could they truly defeat an enemy of such overwhelming size?
"Don't lose heart, Sir Gawain."
"How will we know unless we try?"
The king's voice rang out, and in the next moment, the holy sword, imbued with the sun's power, blazed with radiant light across the shadow-draped land.
"Here's the situation."
"Everyone, together now!"
Under the king's command, the twelve Knights of the Round Table launched their assault on Alaric in the sky.
Yellow, red, purple, blue, cyan... beams of every color surged forth, each an A+-rank Noble Phantasm attack.
"This should work, right?"
The knights, unleashing their full power, looked up at the rainbow-like energy arcing toward the heavens. They didn't expect this attack to defeat the fearsome dragon outright, but it should at least wound him, giving them hope to keep fighting.
"Such vibrant colors."
Alaric, floating in the sky, felt the knights' strength and resolve in the approaching rainbow.
"A pity, though."
His eyes lowered, and he didn't even attempt to dodge the vibrant beams hurtling toward him.
Boom...
The colorful barrage struck his body, unleashing a deafening explosion.
But it was only sound.
As the dazzling light faded, the massive dragon's form bore no trace of damage... not even a scratch.
"My apologies, knights."
"You, whose essence is Mystery, cannot harm me as I am now."
"Try another approach. Perhaps biting with your teeth would be more effective."
…
From the sky, Alaric offered a candid suggestion.
It sounded like mockery, but it was the unvarnished truth.
The knights' power stemmed from Mystery, but he was a god who, at the twilight of the Age of Gods, bore the weight of the world to prevent its fall.
No matter how great their strength, they could not harm him.
Only one power could...
"And you've known this all along, haven't you?"
Alaric's voice thundered through the sky like rolling thunder.
He named no one, but all knew to whom he spoke.
"Yes, I've known."
Artoria looked up at the city-sized dragon's head, smiling as she waved to him.
They were not enemies... not even now.
Alaric had never once attacked the knights, and Artoria fought with the heartfelt desire to "save" Him.
"But I still want to try."
"What if, right? What if we could keep going like this?"
"A ruler must neither be deaf nor blind... if we could continue without endangering the world, wouldn't that be nice?"
Artoria said with a hint of regret.
She had known the story's end long ago, yet she wanted to keep this unfinished dream alive.
"Even now, I must say: I am Artoria Pendragon."
"My dream is to save this island in the apocalypse, to protect everyone's smiles."
"And that includes your smile!"
The king lowered her holy sword.
At that moment, countless rays of light converged from all directions into her hands, forming a weapon far more radiant and perilous.
Rhongomyniad.
"The thirteen seals are released; the Round Table vote begins!"
"Recognized: this is a battle for salvation!"
…
The king drew the holy lance.
The king of the Age of Gods' end wielded the key heralding the apocalypse.
Did she regret it?
Of course she did.
But not for drawing the lance and causing the world's end. She regretted not drawing it sooner, allowing that lively, adorable hatchling to become this pitiful creature.
"Wait, just a little longer."
"It'll be over soon."
The king closed her eyes, praying from her heart.
The knights' voices echoed ceaselessly in her ears.
"Recognized: this is a battle for survival."
"Recognized: this is a battle for truth."
"Recognized: this is not a battle for selfish desire."
"Recognized: this is a battle against a foe stronger than ourselves."
"…"
The voices rang out, one by one.
The restraints on the holy lance released, one by one.
The lance of salvation revealed its true form.
Artoria gripped the radiant beam tightly... she knew she had only one chance.
Not to slay the dragon before her, but to save Alaric.
She had to strike the "correct" Enemy, to "free" Alaric from this wretched state.
Fortunately, it wasn't difficult.
She had long known the right answer.
"Holy Lance, unleash... "
Facing the white dragon, showing no intent to defend, Artoria took a deep breath.
"O God... "
She called out to the divine, letting the world know what was to come:
"I will sever the sacred oath we made."
"I will slay you as a god, releasing you from the prison called Divinity."
"End this chain of fate... Shine, Lance That Shines to the End of the World!!!"
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