To prevent Aslan—this anomaly outside the bounds of fate—from further disrupting the flow of destiny, Merlin simply used magic to send Aslan and Melusine to another city far from this church. Only after confirming that they were well away from Artoria did Merlin finally breathe a sigh of relief.
After all, he would soon be off to meet Artoria and set her off on the journey of the Flower. Aslan probably wouldn't have enough time to meet her a second time.
Gazing at the distant town, Merlin turned his head toward Aslan and slightly bowed with a touch of respect. No matter what, the boy before him carried the royal bloodline of Britain. As the royal court magus, he owed respect to every heir of the royal line—even if this child was but an illegitimate one.
"Well then, this is as far as I'll take you."
With that, Merlin waved his staff once more, turning into drifting flower petals and disappearing from sight.
Aslan didn't care what Merlin thought. As someone from a later age, he already felt out of place in this era.
That being the case, he didn't concern himself with anyone's opinions. He only needed to do what he wanted—and what he ought to do. There were still ten years until Britain reached its peak, and likewise, only ten years until its ruin.
"Aslan doesn't want to become the king of this island? If it's what you want, I'll clear all obstacles in your path."
Melusine stepped forward, wrapping her arms around Aslan from behind. She gently nuzzled his back with her cheek, letting her warmth and scent cling to him entirely—a possessiveness unique to dragons, laid bare without restraint.
But Aslan shook his head. "Unless it's absolutely necessary, I don't want to be king of this island. The reason is simple. As a king, what you bear isn't just your own life and that of those close to you. It's the future of the land itself, and the lives of everyone on it.
At that point, I wouldn't have much time to spend with you. And as lazy as I am, I really just want to live a carefree life. Carrying the weight of a nation? I'll cross that bridge when I have to."
Aslan stroked Melusine's hair as he spoke. What he said reflected his honest thoughts. A kingdom wasn't something you just picked up like a stray coin. Things were fine the way they were now. If it ever became truly necessary for him to rule, he'd reconsider. Besides, compared to Artoria, he didn't even know much about this era—or about the people of Britain.
On top of that, he didn't know swordsmanship, nor had he studied magic in depth. Kings of this time still had to value martial strength. If he were forced to wield a knight's sword in battle, he'd probably end up using it like a blacksmith's hammer.
Unfolding the map in his hand, Aslan quickly plotted a relatively safe route. He planned to begin his studies in magic first.
But before that, he needed to enter the town and exchange the items he carried for gold coins.
Perhaps because it was near the city where the Sword of Selection rested, this small town appeared bustling at a glance. Many people were discussing the Knight's Tournament, brimming with curiosity about which knight would become Britain's next king.
At the same time, many wandering knights had gathered here. These knights hadn't received proper training—many wore dirty, dented armor. That was the best case. Some of them even acted more like thugs than warriors. They bore the title of "knight," but in reality, most were just glorified bandits.
With all the wars of recent years, countless wandering knights had emerged—either their kings had died on the battlefield, or they were deserters. Their numbers were beyond counting.
After all, in this era, on this island, owning a castle meant you could declare yourself the lord of a territory. Whether that title was recognized by any official authority was another matter. Nominally, before everything fell into chaos, the king who claimed sovereignty over the whole island was Uther.
Once Aslan and Melusine entered the town, they began searching for a buyer for the rare items they carried, making no attempt to hide their intention to trade.
Naturally, Aslan's behavior attracted the attention of the wandering knights. But Aslan didn't care in the slightest.
In fact, upon noticing those people stealthily tailing them, he grinned and leaned over to whisper to Melusine, "Looks like someone's about to bring us some armor we can resell for a little side income. And maybe even some horses."
Melusine blinked in confusion. She possessed a fair amount of general knowledge, but since her awakening, she had spent all her time with Aslan in the forest. She didn't pick up on the double meaning in his words, and simply looked up at him curiously.
"Aslan, do you know other people in the human world? Someone's giving us gifts? A friend of yours?"
Aslan chuckled softly and shook his head. How could it be someone he knew from the human world? At the moment, the only "friend" he could count from this world was Merlin—and he wasn't even human.
Everyone else connected to this body and identity seemed to be eagerly waiting for his death.
After all, Vortigern had once ruled half of Britain. Even if he brought foreign enemies to the island and ushered in Britain's age of darkness, that position of power was still coveted. Someone was always waiting to inherit it.
Though those ambitious fools probably had no idea that the old man Vortigern was actually the White Dragon.
Holding Melusine close, Aslan pressed his face gently into her hair, nuzzling her to show his affection. This method of expressing intimacy between dragon kin only made Melusine all the more delighted.
"My dear Melusine is so adorably naïve in some ways. But no, the people bringing us those gifts aren't friends I know. They're… let's call them 'friendly strangers.' Just wait a bit, Melusine. Don't make a move right away, okay?"
As long as he had sufficient strength, there was no harm in using himself as bait. If he intended to walk through the human world, bandits and rogue knights would be daily encounters. He couldn't always rely on Melusine to protect him.
Might as well use this opportunity to test just how strong he really was.
And if necessary, it might be time to find a powerful knight to take him as a disciple.