Shiroryu circled in the night sky. He did not descend, because he did not want to destroy the small, block-like houses below; nor did he make any sound, he had no intention of disturbing the sweet dreams of the humans who had toiled for a day.
"Good evening~"
After a moment, Artoria, who had finally dealt with her affairs, walked out of that small wooden house. She raised her head and looked at this young dragon she had not seen for a long time with a joyful expression... no, it could no longer be called a young dragon. It had become a majestic behemoth, a true god. But in Artoria's heart, it was indeed the young dragon that had once popped out of a stone and would share two rabbits with her.
"You mean, let me go with you? Where?"
Artoria looked at the direction Shiroryu was pointing with his finger—it was his back, and on his back sat two blurry figures. One of them she recognized, it was the little girl who had been saved by him and later became his vassal... but who was the woman sitting next to that little girl, who seemed to have fainted?
"Why?"
Artoria, not quite understanding, pressed her right hand to her chest. "Just by seeing her... my heart is beating so hard?"
...
Shiroryu, who had picked up Artoria, continued to fly forward. His flying speed was such that in just a few minutes, he had already flown over thousands of mountains and rivers, arriving at a place that Artoria had once been very familiar with, but now made her feel very strange.
"This is... that valley?"
Passing through the familiar rock crevice, Artoria looked at the scene before her with some doubt: in what should have been a pitch-black night, there seemed to be countless fireflies floating around, emitting a faint light. Artoria walked closer and found that these were actually glowing little fairies—they were freely floating in this valley, which should have been very narrow but now looked vast and boundless, lighting up every place shrouded by the night.
And that Dragon's Shrine, which had been built by the young dragon's own hands and whose god statue she had personally carved, in this night, emitted a pure white fluorescence—it stood there, together with the surrounding little fairies, forming the moon and stars on the earth, making one feel as if they were in the Milky Way.
"Mhm, this is that valley. It's just that I've temporarily remodeled it a bit."
Shiroryu landed on the grass—although he had tried his best to be gentle, the wind produced by his landing inevitably blew up a group of little fairies. They cheered and scattered quickly in all directions, as splendid as a sudden explosion of fireworks.
"I see, so this is your sanctuary?"
After a brief moment of astonishment, Artoria had gradually understood what was going on.
Sanctuary—can also be understood as a semi-secret realm, a place that is connected to the real world but is also independent of it. Britain has many legends about sanctuaries: for example, the most famous hero of the Celts, Cú Chulainn, had once learned various combat skills in the sanctuary called [Land of Shadows], and eventually became famous all over the world; also for example, the legendary hero of Ireland, Oisín, had once strayed into the sanctuary of the sea god. He eventually married the daughter of the sea god and spent a short happy time there—but when he left that fairy island, he found that three hundred years had passed in the outside world.
This was also why Merlin had said before that "rashly intruding into the domain of a god is a very dangerous thing."
"Don't tell me that when I go out, three hundred years will have passed in the outside world too?" Artoria asked thus, and then quickly answered herself. "But it seems not bad to go directly three hundred years later... then I would not be the last monarch, but a true king of revival, right?"
Shiroryu glanced at her—he found that becoming a king seemed to have its benefits. At least now the ahoge had learned to actively liven up the atmosphere.
"It's not difficult for you to become a king of revival now either. You just need to personally kill her."
...
Morgan fell off Shiroryu's back. She fell on the soft grass and was not injured—but mud and grass blades inevitably stained her whole body, making her already pale face from overexertion look even more pathetic.
Artoria looked at this woman with a curious gaze—but then, as if realizing something, her gaze instantly became solemn.
"Is she... Mom?"
"..."
Alright, it was indeed not her fault for misunderstanding. After all, that magus had never mentioned anything about King Uther, about the Pendragon family. She didn't even know that she actually had a half-sister, let alone that this sister was more than ten years older than her—in this era of widespread early marriage and early childbearing, to suddenly see a face that was ninety-nine percent similar to her own, but was much more mature, it was indeed natural to subconsciously think of her mother.
"..."
After hearing this rather tangled address, Morgan was also stunned. Just now, she was still sizing up this girl before her with a very cold gaze—no one needed to explain. Just by looking at that face that was like looking in a mirror, Morgan could guess Artoria's true identity.
"Damn illegitimate daughter! Despicable thief of the throne! To obtain the throne, you even disregard national enmity and family hatred, choosing to ally with the White Dragon King!"
"Father was blind to choose her as king!"
The more Morgan thought, the angrier she became. Her nails had already dug into her palms. She wished she could immediately clean up the family and execute this shameful "traitor."
But for some reason, when that "Mom" came out of Artoria's mouth—all the resentment in her heart suddenly disappeared.
"What a... fool!"
She looked at this girl before her, whose eyes were clear and whose face showed a look of both expectation and entanglement, and cursed with some disgust. She was actually cursing herself.
She once again sized up this little girl before her—clearly possessing the noblest bloodline, yet her height was only 5 feet. Her chest was also flat, with no sign of development at all. Besides her slender limbs, she didn't look much different from a boy. Morgan had reason to suspect that her little sister had probably never had a full meal.
"What am I arguing with an illegitimate daughter who has never even seen her own mother?"
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