Human panic is something that absolutely cannot be faked.
Even as a dragon, Ian understood this completely.
"Where?"
"Tell me."
"There—"
"It was right there—"
The man who had escaped from the rain pointed frantically in a direction.
Of course.
With the rain pouring down this hard, such a vague gesture was naturally of no use.
However, Ian was certain this man was not lying to him.
Or rather...
He wouldn't dare lie to him.
"I understand."
Ian raised a hand.
"Take him back."
"And tell the King about this matter."
"What about you, Lord Ian?"
"As for me—"
Ian looked out into the rain.
"I'll go and see what's going on first."
Without another word, Ian strode alone into the rain.
Knowing full well that he was the type to be ruthless in action and sparse with words, the two soldiers at the city gate looked at each other.
"Let's do as he says..."
"Mm."
On the other side, having entered the rain alone, Ian used the control method he had learned from Morgan's body and quickly entered a half-man, half-dragon state.
A dragon's constitution was far superior to that of an ordinary person.
So with just a single breath, Ian sensed a flow of magical energy in the air.
That's right.
It was a real, genuine dragon.
The scent was somewhat similar to Artoria's, but it was also different to a considerable degree.
Ian grew vigilant.
His intuition told him.
This was not a simple matter.
Drawing the Sword of Promised Victory (Excalibur Morgan) from his waist, Ian advanced cautiously.
Rainwater streamed down his skin, turning the ground beneath him into mud.
He saw the forest the man had spoken of.
However, the magical energy that had been faint before was now incredibly dense.
Is it nearby?
Ian walked into the forest.
Almost at the same instant he set foot on this land, the already freezing rain took on an extra hint of frost.
"Enemy lower life-form, detected. Commencing engagement."
With a whoosh.
Amidst the heavy rain, an indiscernible figure appeared.
It moved through the forest at an extremely high speed, arriving in front of Ian in an instant.
Along with it came a decisive killing intent.
If it were an ordinary person, they would probably have been frightened to the ground by now.
But for Ian, this was a completely different feeling.
The knights of Camelot were all too weak.
When fighting them, Ian felt he didn't need a weapon at all.
However—
Since humans recognized the need for weapons in a duel.
Then he would not be stingy about drawing the Sword of Promised Victory (Excalibur Morgan).
Winning, and winning by a landslide, were the same to him.
But now—
Facing the figure that was attacking him, Ian felt an inexplicable excitement.
Hot air escaped from his mouth.
The tail behind him began to sway.
If the Sword of Promised Victory (Excalibur Morgan) were not strong enough, it would likely have been shattered from the inside out by his enhanced strength.
His desire for battle was soaring.
Weapon in hand, Ian's pupils emitted a red light in that instant.
CLANG.
The Sword of Promised Victory (Excalibur Morgan) blocked two crossed blue blades with unerring precision.
Ian was also able to get a clear look at his opponent's face.
But...
It was a face that did not match the ferocious attack at all.
It was a petite girl.
Her long, silver-white hair was like a river of stars, the most eye-catching thing even in this cold rain.
She was snow-white all over; beneath her blue clothes was smooth and delicate skin.
But this very figure, which looked like it should be cherished and protected, was wielding two dark blue broadswords.
Cuteness and ferocity were actually combined in this one moment.
At this moment, in her beautiful golden eyes, was shock towards the Ian before her.
"How did you block that—"
"A mere human shouldn't be able to do something like this—"
Saying this, the petite girl quickly tried to put more force into her swords, attempting to overpower Ian.
However, it was completely impossible.
No matter how much strength she used, it was a meaningless act before Ian.
Between the two of them, there seemed to be an absolute difference in physique and strength.
"Damn it—!"
"Just a mere human!"
With a kick of her foot, the petite girl flipped in a perfect and elegant circle in Ian's vision.
A pair of incomparably beautiful wings unfolded in the process, making her look just like a fairy.
"Declination Angle Shift!"
Adjusting her form in the air at an extremely exaggerated angle, she began to circle and fly.
"You can't catch me now, can you!"
"You can't see me clearly now, can you!"
"This is my speed!"
Circling wildly around Ian, the petite girl left countless afterimages around the boy.
It was a phenomenon that only occurred when one reached a certain level of speed.
"I'll finish you like this!"
"One strike, instant conclusion. Slashing sword skill, begin. Connect, O innocent lake light yet unknown!"
Appearing in an instant from the afterimages.
The petite girl thrust towards Ian's back.
If she couldn't break through from the front, then she would strike him from behind!
It wasn't honorable, but at least it would secure victory!
In an instant, she unleashed five slashes carrying a frigid aura. The very rain falling in the forest transformed into a swarm of ice-like stingers.
"Die!"
However—
Only after her blades shot forward and struck his back did the confident girl realize something.
This seemed...
Not to be the back of a human.
It was solid and hard.
There were red patterns on the surface, which were currently flowing with light.
And more importantly—
The blades couldn't pierce through.
That's right.
Although she had struck five times in an instant, not a single one had penetrated.
"Failed to penetrate enemy armor...?"
She muttered to herself in disbelief.
"What is your name?"
Ian turned his head and looked at her who had launched the attack on him.
"Mé-Mélusine!"
The girl, as she said this, showed no sign of admitting defeat verbally.
But—
Mélusine soon discovered that something was a little off.
She saw that after confirming her name, the other's breathing began to show an unconcealable excitement.
No.
That moved too.
Although this was a beast-like behavior, Mélusine then heard words that were as gentle as a gentleman's.
"I'm sorry, Mélusine."
"I think..."
"I'm losing control of myself a little."