Vortigern seemed to possess the power of command.
Behind him, three-headed white dragons appeared.
But—
Although they were called dragons, even an ordinary person could feel their twisted inner nature.
If Ian was a true dragon, then these before them could only be called "counterfeits."
Nevertheless.
When these three-headed white dragons flapped their wings, blowing gust after gust of fierce wind, it was already a terrifying enough attack for the average knight.
"Such a violent wind."
Barghest shielded her face with her hand.
Even with her sturdy build, she struggled to withstand this assault.
"Tremble. Submit."
"This is the form Britain was meant to evolve into."
"Artoria, you are too slow."
"So slow that I can no longer bear it!"
Vortigern raised his hands high.
At this moment, he looked somewhat crazed and unrestrained.
"Even our mortal enemies, the Saxons, can become like this, yet your subordinates remain as they are. Do you not feel shame?!"
As Vortigern's voice grew louder, the three-headed white dragons, as if answering a call, began to launch a fierce attack.
White light gathered between their sharp fangs, forming dazzling white orbs.
"Look out—!"
Mélusine's reaction was fast enough, but she still wasn't able to save those knights.
The orbs of light shot towards the place where the knights were gathered at extreme speed.
When the white light faded, only scorched black marks remained on the ground.
It was an absolute annihilation of power, so much so that they didn't even have time to react.
"Vortigern!"
Watching the knights who were annihilated in an instant, Artoria became unusually enraged.
In a flash, a spear shining with powerful magical energy appeared in her hand.
"Ian!"
The black dragon circled, without a single shred of hesitation.
In a single leap, she mounted him.
"Avenge the knights!"
Artoria gave the direct command.
"ROAR—!"
The dragon's roar echoed across the sky.
His fully spread wings were like clouds blotting out the sun, casting a massive shadow.
BOOM.
Crimson flames began to burn the white dragons and the earth.
Mélusine and Barghest glanced at each other and both nodded.
"We can't just watch like last time."
"That's right."
The petite swordswoman and the giant black dog formed an incredibly strange duo.
"GRAAH!"
The black dragon attacked the enemy before him in the most savage manner.
His powerful hands gripped the left and right heads of a three-headed white dragon, while he used his sharpest teeth as a weapon against the remaining one.
Muscle tore, and dragon blood splattered.
The white dragon's agonizing screams soon echoed across the sky.
This seemed to be a sign of victory.
However—
That was not the case.
Morgan, who had yet to act, quickly realized something was wrong.
Each white dragon had three different heads.
But at this moment, the only one making a sound was the head Ian had bitten.
The other two, though firmly held by Ian, showed...
...absolutely no reaction consistent with the middle head!
A terrible thought echoed in Morgan's mind.
"Vortigern!"
"What method did you use to 'create' them!"
"As expected of the magus who can see the ley lines."
Hearing Morgan's furious words, Vortigern made no attempt to hide it.
He quickly replied:
"Everything in this world is an equivalent exchange."
"There is no such thing as gain without a price."
Vortigern clenched his fist.
Blue flames burned in his palm, emitting traces of magical energy.
"For an ordinary person to become a dragon, a greater price is naturally required."
"And I... merely gave them, who share my ideals, a small opportunity."
"Them?"
Morgan's eyes widened.
She now understood why each head of the three-headed dragons reacted differently.
"Vortigern, don't tell me these white dragons are the result of fusing several Saxons together?"
"I knew I couldn't hide it from you, Morgan."
Vortigern burst out laughing.
"That's right."
"Since the price for one person to become a dragon is so high, why not just find a way to have enough people share that risk?"
"Two is too few, four is too many."
"Three is just right, isn't it? Mashing them together in a process like alchemy."
"Oh, no need to condemn me." Vortigern looked at the three-headed dragons still fighting Ian. "If you want to blame someone, blame that guy you summoned for being too strong."
"Without doing this, there would be no possibility of matching him."
"Besides—"
Vortigern clenched his fist, and the three-headed dragons that had appeared next to the "tree" let out cries one after another.
This seemed to be two completely unrelated events.
But in Morgan's eyes, it was something else entirely.
"Shackles."
Vortigern, as if enslaving humans, had placed an invisible shackle on each of the three-headed dragons.
And because the concentration of magical energy was so high, it was impossible to detect by normal means.
Without a magus of Morgan's caliber, it would likely never have been discovered.
"Besides—"
"These aren't fundamentally Britons, are they?"
"What's wrong with me using these bastards who want to destroy this land?"
"These guys were dead set on taking over all of Britain. I've done nothing wrong."
"..."
"But you are blaspheming dragons, and blaspheming life itself."
Morgan said calmly.
"You aren't protecting Britain at all. You're just trying to prove yourself."
"Say what you will."
Vortigern smiled faintly.
His hand gently caressed the "trunk" of the tree behind him, which was so thick it was almost suffocating.
"I already possess sufficient power."
"Everything I say is absolute truth."
"If you want to convince me otherwise, you'll have to at least make all these Saxons fall."
"..."
"Do you really think he can't do it?"
Morgan sneered.
"You have no idea how powerful a united Camelot can be, Vortigern."
"What?"
To the Usurper King's surprise, the black dragon temporarily repelled the three-headed white dragons with a blast of flame, then swooped down, scooping Morgan onto his back.
The sisters of Britain were united at this moment.
"Vortigern."
"Your dragons aren't the only ones with helpers!"
Morgan raised her staff high.
"This... is the dragon gifted to us by the heavens!"