When exactly did she realize that this lance was unlike any other?
Was it when she realized she carried the weight of all Britain on her shoulders?
Or—
Was it the moment she realized she should reconcile with Morgan?
Artoria couldn't recall.
However, if a king possesses no power, then the meaning of being king is lost, isn't it?
Rhongomyniad: The Lance that Shines at the End of the World.
The moment she realized that power was the foundation of kingship, the previously nameless lance revealed its true name, one that should not have been known.
She wanted to kill Vortigern for everyone;
She wanted to kill Vortigern for Camelot;
She wanted to kill Vortigern for Britain;
And of course.
Artoria looked at the dragon beneath her.
More than anything, she wanted to kill Vortigern for him.
Britain should be a beautiful homeland where humans and dragons coexist, not a place where life and everything else is blasphemed by the likes of Vortigern.
Gathered prayers would inevitably become an existence transcending the laws of physics.
Magical energy was flowing with accelerating speed—
To be precise, it was a spectacle of countless particles of light converging towards a single point.
Even without physical contact, gazing upon that gradually growing, immense, and substantial light, one could sense the danger within.
Vortigern, having transformed into the white dragon, naturally couldn't be oblivious to this.
"Artoria, don't think everyone is foolish enough to believe in your so-called signs of kingship!"
"If Britain is left in your hands, it will surely meet its destruction in the end!"
The white dragon opened its maw, rapidly gathering dazzling light as if inhaling.
"Ian, stop him!"
"Don't let Artoria be hit!"
Although she didn't know what Artoria planned to do, nor did she understand her intentions.
But—
As her biological sister in this world, Morgan felt that at least in this moment, she should truly act like an older sister.
"ROAR—!"
Crimson-black flames intertwined between the black dragon's sharp fangs.
BOOM!
Two torrents of energy collided in mid-air, blossoming into a blinding wave of light.
Morgan's suspicion was confirmed once again.
The current Vortigern, or rather, Vortigern after transforming into the white dragon, truly possessed the power to rival Ian.
Of course.
This might not be his own strength, but rather a conclusion woven from many external factors.
But at this moment, his combat power was undeniable!
Black and white flames intertwined in the sky, at times dyeing the ground a pale white, and at other times painting it a crimson red.
"..."
"..."
Barghest and Mélusine, protected behind Ian, exchanged glances, both knowing what they had to do in this moment.
Even if they might not play a decisive role in a battle of this magnitude.
At the very least, they had to do something for the future of Britain!
"Arondight, let's go!"
"Excalibur Galatine, you perform well too!"
A blue fairy took flight into the sky, while on the ground, a black dog with a powerful and sturdy body charged forward relentlessly.
They were not as useless as they had imagined.
At least—
In this moment of power struggle, the addition of two holy swords was enough to become the decisive factor that tipped the scales of causality.
"Preposterous!"
"Artoria, do you think you can become a true king by relying on others?"
"Your thoughts are always so shallow!"
"I have never thought so, Vortigern."
The Rhongomyniad in Artoria's hand had already gathered most of its form.
Its true appearance was fully revealed through this gathering of power.
It was no longer a so-called "lance," but an existence beyond common sense, akin to an anchor.
Anyone seeing such a Rhongomyniad would not doubt that the moment it struck the ground, it would create ripples powerful enough to affect all of Britain.
"I already possess everything needed to be a king."
"But, I am still a person."
"An ordinary person."
"Therefore, I will not refuse the help of others like you do—that is the most normal behavior for human interaction."
"No one can condemn me, nor should anyone condemn me for this."
"Vortigern, haven't you realized this yet?!"
Artoria's gaze became resolute.
She gripped the Rhongomyniad tightly in her hand.
"Forget it."
"Your ideals, in my view, are absolutely impossible to realize."
"I have no need to explain anything further to you."
"What a joke, what a joke!"
Vortigern roared.
"Putting on that self-righteous act, as if you understand everything."
"Artoria, you are nothing but a puppet!"
"But even a puppet doesn't mean there's no chance to become a king, does it?"
In an instant, Rhongomyniad grew immensely large.
"This ends here, Vortigern."
"Try it if you can!"
Faced with Artoria's words, Vortigern showed not a shred of fear.
On the contrary, he was more steadfast than at any time before.
"I never acknowledged your foolish father or you, foolish girl, as the King of Britain!"
"And I never will!"
BOOM—
The light of Rhongomyniad intertwined with the black dragon's flames.
If something was lacking before to defeat Vortigern.
Then now, the formula for victory was written.
That's right.
The final stroke was Artoria!
The legend of the Red Dragon and the White Dragon seemed to have returned to its origin in some mysterious way, yet everything was so very different.
CRASH!
The intertwined light and fire crashed down like a gigantic sword.
Vortigern, in his white dragon form, spewed forth scorching white flames.
He wanted to resist all of this, to resist the blade that was cutting down on his head like fate itself.
But—
Everything felt like predetermined destiny.
When the blade that transcended the laws of physics finally landed on Vortigern.
At that moment, light shone across the land of Britain.
"Why..."
"Why is it every time..."
"It ends like this..."
"I... am unwilling..."
"Artoria, I curse you..."
Uttering these final words, the white dragon's figure gradually vanished into the white light.