Chapter 40: O God, Are You Pleased?
That was an attack that should not have happened at all. Absolutely no one would have thought that on this battlefield of man against man, someone would dare to attack a god.
"Did his hand slip?"
"It must have slipped, right?"
Looking at the red magic spear flying towards him like a meteor, for some reason, Shiroryu suddenly thought of the India of his previous life. It is said that the Rabbit once had a famous saying: any country that attacks the Three Gorges Dam will be regarded as a provocation of the level of nuclear war. But if the person who launched the missile was India... even the Rabbit would have to confirm before really taking action—did this legendary Indian's missile launch program have some kind of error again? Did it hit a place it shouldn't have?
"Clang."
With the thought of "giving him another chance," Shiroryu gently waved his front paw, "deflecting" the magic spear that had already reached him back.
"Puchi—"
The magic spear that had just risen like a meteor fell like a meteor again. Shiroryu's control of the force was just right, making the magic spear land right in front of King Pellinore, sticking straight into the ground before him.
Looking at the long spear stuck in the ground, King Pellinore was in a daze, silent for a long time.
"Let's go."
He suddenly dismounted, picked up the spear on the ground, and then fiercely stabbed the horse's rump. The horse, in pain, neighed and ran away, leaving King Pellinore alone on this battlefield where it was absolutely impossible to achieve any more victory.
King Pellinore looked at the surrounding environment with a complicated expression. In front of him was an invincible enemy, and behind him were the defeated remnants of his army with no will to fight—he couldn't win. He had known this outcome long before the war began. But he still came, stood on this unwinnable battlefield, and launched a hero-like challenge to the strongest existence of the time.
"King Arthur—"
He gripped the long spear in his hand and shouted the name of the chosen king. The melancholy in his eyes gradually disappeared, replaced by an infinite wildness.
"I have heard that if it is a noble knight, even in the face of a weak enemy, they will fight with all their might."
"And the god high above in the sky."
"You need not have any pity for me, for what I crave is the blood of a god!"
[Ding, King Pellinore has challenged you.]
[Do you accept?]
...
King Pellinore's roar echoed on the battlefield. It was a roar like a lion—the majesty of the king of beasts emanated, making both Shiroryu and Artoria, these two genuine "dragons," look at each other.
They had seen people who were not afraid of death, but they had never seen someone so unafraid of death. In the face of that huge gap in strength, for him to be able to charge at Artoria head-on was already considered courageous. But now, he was shamelessly talking about "hoping the enemy would fight with all their might" and "hoping to see the blood of a god"... was he really tired of this world? Or was he trying to exchange this heroic death for a posthumous fame?
"But, no matter what."
"Since he dares to initiate such a duel, then we must fulfill his 'wish'."
Artoria's face gradually became serious.
—After Lamorak had defected to her, she had actually wanted to let this King Pellinore off the hook. After all, setting aside their positions, this King Pellinore was indeed a very heroic warrior, and also a very outstanding king. But now, facing his "all-out" request, she couldn't just let him off even if she wanted to.
And in the sky, Shiroryu, who clearly felt that he had indeed been provoked, had already begun to brew the white light full of destructive power. As a Blue-Eyes White Dragon who advocated for head-on confrontation and the ultimate violent aesthetics, he was very willing to fulfill this hero's lifelong fame—of course, at the cost of death.
But, why?
"Clearly a fatal outcome, yet his eyes still flash with a trace of hope."
"What else is he looking forward to?"
...
The attack had already begun.
The white light cannon shot from the sky, together with the scorching torrent waved out from Artoria's hands, launched an absolutely un-dodgeable attack on King Pellinore, who was standing in the center of the battlefield.
But King Pellinore did not dodge—he didn't even close his eyes.
"Thump-thump, thump-thump—"
That was the sound of a heart beating continuously. At such a moment of life and death, the flow of time became surprisingly slow, and the originally noisy world became extremely clean. He could only hear his own powerful heartbeat.
With the blessing of courage, this heartbeat was like a war drum—dull, heavy, and full of power.
"Aaaaaaaah!!!"
King Pellinore roared while raising the long spear in his hand. He was not waiting for death; he was fighting. Facing the white light cannon in the sky that seemed to be able to destroy a city, he unhesitatingly threw the magic spear in his hand, once again pointing at the god high above.
"Boom—"
His attack was futile. The magic spear, made of special materials, was instantly swallowed and destroyed by the torrent of light, not even a scrap was left.
But, this was also what he had been looking forward to.
"O, god—"
Looking at the two light cannons that had already arrived before him, the hero, with no means of resistance left, finally closed his eyes.
"My life, has it pleased you?"
...
King Pellinore died. Under the watchful eyes of the public, he was completely bombarded by two light cannons. No one could have survived such an attack—he didn't even leave a single corpse behind.
But no one laughed at him. Because this was Britain, the Britain where the Celts had lived for generations. The worship of heroes was an instinct imprinted in the souls of the Celts—even as an enemy, Artoria had to pay the highest respect to such a King Pellinore.
But—
"Not right!"
"The battle is not over yet!"
"This guy... so he was doing that kind of thing?"
Looking at the battlefield that was clearly empty but was gradually being shrouded in a gray aura, Shiroryu, who was very familiar with this aura, finally understood why that King Pellinore had done those things just now.
"Isn't this the aura of that island of death?"
In the reverse side of the world, the island of death surrounded by black seawater was a domain that only the dead could enter. And on that island, there was a city that only heroes could enter. It was a kingdom that only heroes could enter, where the legendary army of heroes was stationed, allowing the souls of heroes to enjoy true peace.
As for the name of that "hero's army"—
"I was wondering why that magic spear looked so familiar just now?!"
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