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The meteorite smashed into Vortigern's face, scattering debris. Scathach and Artoria were protected by the giant dragon, whose body was entirely covered in white scales, in what seemed like an embrace. From its appearance, there was no trace of Asher's existence on it. Its ferocious appearance and awe-inspiring golden eyes made it look more like a monster than Asher.
Just as Vortigern's "shell" had shattered and become a dragon, so too had Asher. Although he didn't know why he had transformed, it was undoubtedly a good thing. At least for the current situation, it was a good thing.
"Shishou, leave him to me," Asher looked up at the demonic dragon in the sky. "Gaining power comes with a price, Sister Morgan told me that before." Vortigern wanted to kill him, and he, too, wished to deal with Vortigern as quickly as possible. Two identical dragons could not exist in this world; one of them had to fall for the battle to end.
As Asher looked up and gazed at the demonic dragon, the Knights of the Round Table were observing Asher. After all, the King Arthur they had protected for half a year was actually a white dragon, a white dragon just like Vortigern... This joke was not funny at all. Gawain silently covered his forehead. Since things had come to this, it was impossible to conceal it any longer. The person who could become King Arthur should be the Red Dragon, but now he had turned into a White Dragon. This was unacceptable to these loyal individuals.
Besides Gawain, Kay also sighed, covering his forehead. When Asher pulled out the Caliburn, the old knight had told Kay the truth. He had known Asher's identity for a long time. Originally, he had hesitated about whether to reveal Asher's identity, but his "sister complex" ultimately made him decide to conceal the truth.
Moreover, to dismiss all of a person's efforts simply because of his White Dragon identity would be too heartless.
While the Knights of the Round Table were each caught in their own dilemmas and confusion, Asher ignored their gazes. He lowered his head slightly, looking at the dazed Artoria, and whispered, "Lily, your magic should still be plentiful, right?" As Artoria looked at Asher in confusion, he flapped his wings and soared into the sky. His massive dragon body surged through the rain and above the clouds, gazing at the demonic dragon also situated above the clouds in the distance. He sighed sincerely, "No wonder Sister Morgan wouldn't kill you. Becoming this kind of monster is truly troublesome."
"Morgan... Morgan le Fay! If it weren't for that little girl, how could you have had the chance to gain such power!
You scoundrel, you scoundrel!" Vortigern roared hysterically. It should have received the complete power of the White Dragon, but it was forcibly stripped away, becoming an incomplete existence. But it didn't matter... there was still a chance, everything could still turn around. As long as...
"King Arthur, have you considered one thing?" Vortigern suddenly calmed down, its voice gentle and elegant, like those high-ranking nobles holding red wine. Its previously enraged golden eyes also calmed instantly. It hadn't even remembered that not long ago, it had called Asher a bastard.
"What?" Asher asked.
"You are a White Dragon, and I am also a White Dragon.
At this point, even if we kill each other, it's meaningless.
Those Knights of the Round Table already know your identity, and King Arthur, you surely can't be one anymore," Vortigern said persuasively, "Then why not
cooperate?"
Asher didn't make a move, but asked with interest, "You were just fighting to the death, wanting nothing more than to kill each other?"
"There are no absolute enemies in this world. When the benefits are sufficient, so-called enemies can immediately become friends," Vortigern showed a gentle smile, though it didn't seem to consider that a demonic dragon, even when smiling, only exposed its sharp fangs.
"What's your benefit?" Asher asked with interest.
"Sharing the throne. You and I will join forces, making Britain our own. We will have the same power. How does that sound?" Vortigern chuckled.
Asher, after serious consideration, nodded. "I think that's quite good, that condition." Vortigern's face brightened, and his smile became even more cordial. He began, "Then" Almost at that instant, Vortigern suddenly opened its mouth. The space around Asher seemed to tear as a result, and deep cracks opened beside him.
"Hmm," Asher nodded, also opening his mouth. "Then go die!" Almost simultaneously, spatial tears erupted next to both of them, followed by bursts of black fireballs striking both sides. The bodies of the white dragon and the black dragon were instantly subjected to fierce attacks, yet neither paused, charging at each other at speeds exceeding the sound barrier.
Vortigern was using words to make Asher drop his guard, and Asher was doing the same. Their powers were almost identical. In a sense, both were Usurper Kings, attempting to relax their enemies during battle, hoping to kill them more efficiently. But now, such petty schemes were useless. Only a brutal fight until one side fell would suffice. In this battle, whoever showed fear first would give the other an opportunity. Each attack from both sides was accompanied by rolling thunder and churning clouds. Black lights consumed each other, and torn scales regenerated with incredible regenerative abilities.
This was Vortigern's confidence when it told Scathach earlier that it didn't matter how many times she killed it. In Britain, it possessed incredible regenerative abilities. While the pain from injuries and bleeding would be difficult to bear, it could regenerate infinitely. Even severe injuries were irrelevant.
But Asher was the same. He could also regenerate. Being stripped of his scales caused him severe damage, but his injuries healed immediately. The two sides tore at each other, then sprang apart. This was less a battle and more a competition of their respective recovery rates. The forest was flattened in the fight, countless cracks appeared on the ground, and lightning flashed and disappeared in the sky.
The people on the ground looked up, but they couldn't see two dragons. All they could see were churning clouds and the sound of thunder. Artoria looked up at the pitch-black sky, where no figures could be seen, as if in a daze, or perhaps contemplating something.
"Since you can't see, how about you get some rest?"
Scathach's voice came from nearby. "Or are you praying to the gods, hoping they'll send down heavenly thunder?" she said with a hint of teasing.
Artoria shook her head. "If prayers worked, the gods would have already killed the demonic dragon."
"It seems you're still quite calm," Scathach showed a relieved smile, plunging her red spear into the earth, her expression solemn. "Whether Vortigern can be killed depends on you, Artoria."
"What do you mean?" Artoria asked in confusion.
"My apprentice just asked you something... he said, 'Your magic should still be plentiful, right?'" Scathach said.
"What does that have to do with the current situation?"
"Don't you understand yet?" Scathach made a grabbing motion towards the Lance of the Vanguard, and the long spear fell into her hand. "Why Merlin entrusted you with this weapon, don't you understand?" Artoria stared blankly at the weapon Scathach held out to her. That weapon, which seemed to glow even in the darkness. It was the Lance that Shines at the End, Rhongomyniad, the anchor that tethered the stars, which Merlin had once given to her.
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"Kay, you knew all along, didn't you?" Bedivere asked Kay. "That King is a White Dragon, and the true Red Dragon... is her." As he finished speaking, his gaze fell on Artoria in the distance. Kay nodded silently.
"Why didn't you say anything sooner?!" Lamerok asked loudly.
"If I had, would anything have changed?" Kay retorted.
"Would King Arthur do better if it were Artoria instead?"
"But he's"
"A White Dragon?" Gawain interjected, plunging his holy sword of the sun into the ground. A rare lack of a smile adorned his face. "Not just Kay, I also knew a long time ago that King Arthur was a White Dragon."
Everyone present was stunned. Gawain, hailed as the Knight of the Sun, had known King Arthur's identity all along? And in such a situation, he still remained by King Arthur's side?
"Why...?" Bedivere looked at Gawain in confusion. Beside him was Lancelot, barely supporting himself. The unexpected attack by the elf earlier had incapacitated him, and he was only now recovering.
"As the Knight of the Sun, don't you only wield your sword for the true king?"
"Do you think he's not the true King Arthur, then?"
Gawain looked back at Bedivere. "What measures do you think the true King Arthur would take upon taking office?"
"Do you think if it were the Red Dragon, things would be better, that Britain would prosper?" Bedivere was speechless. The other knights also fell silent. It was only a moment later that someone quietly broke the silence.
"What should we do...?"
"Should we continue to accept him as king, or should we deny everything he's done?"
"Just because he's a White Dragon, does that mean he's a second Vortigern?" Voices rose and fell, one after another, except for Lancelot, who kept his eyes closed and remained silent.
At that moment, Artoria walked towards the Knights of the Round Table. "If you don't know what to do, how about you temporarily follow my orders?" The previous noise suddenly quieted, and the Knights of the Round Table's gazes all fell upon the girl.
"Artoria?" Agravain looked at the approaching Artoria, frowning. "Is something wrong?" Lancelot opened his eyes. "You willingly gave up the sword-pulling ceremony and handed the position of King Arthur to someone else.
What do you want to say now?" Kay simply gazed at Artoria quietly, never uttering a sound.
"Every word and action of a king carries the fate of all people. I don't believe I would do better than the current King Arthur." Artoria walked up to Lancelot, meeting his
gaze fixedly.
"Then what do you want to say?" Lancelot asked calmly.
"He is King Arthur," Artoria said again. "Now, draw your swords and help me repel the demonic dragon." Lancelot's gaze sharpened considerably. "This sword is only wielded for King Arthur, the true King Arthur." His sword pointed at Artoria.
"And you are not." Lancelot's body swayed, but he exuded an astonishing aura.
"That's right, I am not King Arthur," Artoria said. "The true King Arthur is currently battling Vortigern."
"He's a White Dragon"
"Look up now!" she interrupted impatiently. Almost all the knights instinctively looked up at the dark sky. In the clouds, lightning flashed rapidly, and the thunder seemed to shake the heavens. Lancelot fell silent. A White Dragon battling another White Dragon. In such a situation, could King Arthur truly be deemed unqualified to be king? They weren't stubborn old fools; they didn't harbor such high obsession.
Gazing at the silent knights, Artoria took a shallow breath, then slowly exhaled. She didn't need everyone to agree with her, but at least she needed them to acknowledge King Arthur's existence, and then help him repel the demonic dragon. Artoria grasped Lancelot's sword, which was pressed against her neck. Hot blood dripped from her palm along the sharp blade.
"Artoria?!" Kay grabbed Artoria's arm, but the girl's slender hand firmly gripped the sword, her eyes unwavering. "I am his court attendant, a member of the Knights of the Round Table. Are you just going to stand there and watch? Are your swords merely useless decorations?" Silence enveloped the area, until a moment later, Gawain broke the silence.
"What should we do?" Artoria looked at Lancelot. He sighed softly. "Tell me what to do." As the strongest Knight of the Round Table, yet caught in a surprise attack that left him incapacitated, if there was a way for him to make amends in this situation, it would be wonderful.
"Thank you," Artoria said sincerely. "The method is simple." She gripped Rhongomyniad in her hand and raised her emerald eyes. "Round Table vote."
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"Why are you fighting so desperately?" Vortigern hovered high in the sky, gazing at the scarred white dragon. It couldn't understand, even felt confused.
Possessing the blood of the White Dragon, they were both kings. Vortigern deliberately avoided Asher's attacks, but Asher launched attacks as if he didn't care about his life. "Even if the injuries can heal, each recovery speed will slow down. What's the point of fighting so desperately?"
"I can't kill you, but you can't kill me either." Vortigern no longer advanced its attack. It gazed at Asher, looking at those visibly dimmed golden eyes, and rejoiced in its heart.
Asher's recovery speed was clearly inferior to Vortigern's, or rather, it was because Asher's attacks were too desperate, hurting others but hurting himself even more, which led to the current situation. "Why bother? What good does this do you?" Vortigern sighed, trying to shake Asher's resolve. "You can't be King Arthur anymore, so what are you striving for? Even if you defeat me, you'll lose all power, and even be despised, simply because you're a White Dragon."
Vortigern stared at Asher's vertical pupils, slowly saying, "If I were you, I would leave here now, instead of continuing to fight desperately when your recovery speed has already slowed so much." Asher suddenly smiled, "Not being King Arthur, isn't that even better?"
"What...?" For a moment, Vortigern thought it had misheard.
"I said, if I can't be, that's fine too!" Asher, like lightning, once again tore into Vortigern. It was that same desperate attack. Vortigern didn't know whether to feel fortunate or afraid. It couldn't understand Asher's thoughts, but it was very glad that Asher had lost his sanity and was maintaining such a fierce offensive.
Although its own consumption was also great, there was a good chance it could kill Asher this way, after all, Asher's consumption was much greater than its own.
Two giant dragons plummeted from the clouds, fighting fiercely in the high sky. The cold wind and fine rain swept past their bodies. Asher's sharp claws pierced Vortigern's neck, as if to crush its head, while Vortigern's massive claw plunged into the white dragon's heart. They were competing on their respective wound healing speeds, but Asher's wounds were clearly healing much slower than Vortigern's.
"Even if you fight desperately, you still failed." Vortigern grinned, throwing Asher away. There was no longer any need for it to fight so desperately with its opponent, because it now had a significant advantage and could slowly wear down Asher's stamina until the end. But as Asher was thrown out, Vortigern suddenly felt its heart pounding violently, its blood boiling. Asher had just spoken one word:
Death.
The demonic dragon's wound healing was instantly restricted. The divine word of death, Geis, sounded from the god's mouth. The mid-air around Asher became a dead zone. Whenever Vortigern's wound worsened, it immediately tore open again. Asher spoke again. "Die."
Each utterance added to Asher's injuries, but Vortigern suffered even more severe damage. A scorching light quietly dissolved Vortigern's body, and partially melted liquid splashed down from high in the sky.
"Madman, you madman!" Vortigern turned around in disbelief, trying to escape, but was caught by Asher by the wing. He flung Vortigern to the other side, and at the same time retreated. Vortigern was puzzled by Asher's actions, but it quickly felt a sense of impending death.
Although it heard no sound, it could feel a dazzling light.
It instinctively looked down. On the ground, the golden-haired girl tightly clutched Rhongomyniad. The Knights of the Round Table knelt around her. Countless golden specks of light gathered around her. The next moment, she opened her eyes. Brilliant golden, bright as day.
At this moment, Artoria was breathtakingly beautiful.
Boom!
"That's...!" Vortigern's eyes suddenly widened. It flapped its wings, wanting to leave, but a red spear from the ground struck its chest. It tried to move but found itself completely unable.
"Gae Bolg Alternative!"
A second red spear, with a blazing light, struck, followed by a golden pillar of light erupting!
"Holy Spear," Artoria raised the Holy Spear, looking up at the black giant dragon in the clouds.
"Anchor away!"
A roar seemed to echo in the air, and the ground seemed to tremble. In Artoria's golden eyes, sparks flew as if from forging iron. She tightly gripped the Holy Spear.
The Lance that Shines at the End.
The golden pillar of light seemed to pierce through the darkness, parting the dark clouds. The black dragon roared in the light pillar, struggling in despair, but finally, even its voice completely vanished, and it fell powerlessly. Asher also landed on the ground. His body had returned to human form, but he didn't even have the strength to move a single finger.
"Damn it... you bastards, I'll definitely have my revenge..." Vortigern said weakly.
"Are you still saying such things at this point, Vortigern?" Artoria looked at the dying black dragon and pointed the Lance of the Vanguard at Vortigern. "Do you really think it's over? I haven't failed yet!" Vortigern roared with its remaining strength. "What are you waiting for?! Have you forgotten your oath?!" Artoria was stunned. Did Vortigern have allies? And would they come to help it now? Who could it be?
Footsteps approached from a distance, very familiar footsteps. The sound of high heels. Asher smelled a very familiar fragrance. He couldn't help but open his nearly closed eyes. A woman wearing a blue crown appeared in his vision, her platinum blonde hair gently swaying in the wind, her exquisite face showing a cold expression.
"Morgan... Sister?" Asher stared blankly at the woman standing beside the demonic dragon. She raised her palm towards Vortigern. In less than a second, the black dragon's body began to dissolve into liquid. An invisible sound of laughter echoed in the air. "This favor, I won't forget, Morgan... no, it should be the Goddess of Death!" Vortigern's voice disappeared, but Asher soon felt a strong sense of dizziness, his vision gradually becoming blurry, until finally, everything went dark.
"Sister, what did you do?" Artoria looked at Morgan le Fay in confusion. Scathach also took a deep look at Morgan. It seemed Morgan le Fay had been hiding in the shadows all along, then?
"What did you do?" Lancelot asked.
"Is there a need to tell you?" Morgan coldly glanced at Lancelot.
"Sister, I also want to know, where is Vortigern now?"
Artoria quickly followed up, her gaze fixed on Morgan le Fay's eyes.
"Vortigern's consciousness is now in Asher's body," Morgan said plainly.
"Vortigern is in Ash's body...?" She looked up in disbelief.
"Why?"
"You'll see," Morgan said, taking out a sword. No, to be precise, it was just a scabbard.
"Sword in the Lake?" Scathach looked at Morgan's face.
"It seems you know something. Wasn't that sword stolen?"
"It was stolen by someone," Morgan said coldly. "Stolen by Vivian herself."
"Vivian...?"
"Vivian was just lying to us," Morgan snorted. "If it weren't for the truth serum, she probably would have kept us in the dark until now." At this moment, in a certain room, Vivian, with black twin pigtails, had her hands cuffed, her eyes blindfolded with a black cloth, her stocking-clad legs tied with ropes, and a stocking stuffed in her mouth. She tried to make muffled sounds but couldn't speak.