The white dragon, its body radiating an azure light, descended from the heavens.
He landed in the demonic dragon's lair, engaging in the most primitive and brutal slaughter with the White Dragon King who had merged with Britain.
"Since you are no longer able to rule this island, then you can just die quietly!"
The dragon claws, filled with terrifying power, easily tore through the scales on the demonic dragon's body, revealing the black, seemingly corrupted flesh underneath.
Despair and curses flowed out from the demonic dragon's body in the form of blood, inevitably staining the white dragon's body.
"Be careful—"
Artoria exclaimed, raising the holy sword in her hand, wanting to join this battle between dragons.
But she was thrown away by a flick of the white dragon's head.
"Don't come over!"
"This is my battle!"
"From now on, whether god or king, there will only be one white dragon in this world—and that is me!"
The white dragon let out a proud roar, looking down on the world.
But—
"Ridiculous!"
"You foolish fellow, don't you understand yet?"
"This island no longer needs a king, nor does it need a god!"
"Destruction—right now, all it needs is complete destruction!"
Hearing his domineering declaration, the British demonic dragon pinned beneath him was not to be outdone, raising its ferocious dragon head and spewing black breath in all directions.
It was the most evil and filthiest thing in the world. It was the despair and anger accumulated over the long 4.6 billion years since the birth of this island.
No holiness could resist such filth; no hope could overcome such despair.
As the world teetered on the brink of destruction, no one could soothe the cries of this island.
—But, so what?
"Victory!"
"No matter what, I still desire victory!"
Faced with the curses rushing towards him, Bailong did not dodge, choosing to take the despair and anger from the island head-on with his own body.
Standing thousands of meters away, Artoria watched the white dragon standing on the earth with a panicked expression.
The black mud stained its sacred body, climbing up its pure white wings. Its body no longer radiated a shining white light, replaced by a deep blue glow, as profound as the deep sea.
"See, your curses can't do anything to me!"
"Your anger cannot stop my desire for victory!"
Bailong lowered his head, looking down at the demonic dragon he had pinned to the ground.
He slightly opened his mouth, and purple lightning flashed around him. The dark clouds in the sky were also dyed a chaotic purple—together with the raging flames on the ground, they formed a hellish, apocalyptic composition.
"The outcome is decided, demonic dragon!"
[Ding, you have killed: British Demonic Dragon.]
[You have obtained: Growth Value +10,000.]
[Current Growth Value: 14,500/10,000 (Cannot evolve)]
[You have obtained a new concept: Kingly Power (Activated)]
[You have obtained a new concept: Destruction (Activated)]
[You have obtained a new concept: Despair (Activated)]
...
The great fire burned for seven whole days.
It burned down the city, turning the original White Fortress into a truly white land; it also burned the demonic dragon's body, making it disappear from this island along with its ambition to conquer the world, leaving no trace behind.
"The only things left to do are to rebuild this city and deal with those foreign tribes."
The white dragon, who had transformed back into a human form, stood beside Artoria and said with a smile.
But looking at his current appearance, Artoria found it hard to smile.
The shining boy from before was gone, replaced by a handsome, slightly quiet young man. He wore a deep blue ceremonial robe and a black crown entwined with thorns. His original shining azure eyes were also gone, replaced by a deep blue-black.
—In that instant, Artoria suddenly understood. She understood why Bailong had deliberately transformed into a human form to meet her before the final battle with Vortigern began.
"Please remember me as I am now."
Those were the words Bailong had wanted to say to her at that time, but at that time, she was just laughing foolishly, just marveling at him.
"Are you okay?"
Looking at Bailong, who had suddenly changed into this appearance, Artoria asked with some concern.
Even if she were a fool, completely ignorant of mysticism, she knew that this was definitely not the correct evolved form of the young dragon.
"To say I'm okay would be a lie."
"There are always some murmuring voices in my ears, it's very annoying."
"But it's just a little annoying, that's all."
Bailong pointed to his ear, his face showing a nonchalant expression.
At the same time, when he saw that Artoria seemed to not believe him, he used a certain old woman who had already graduated from this world as an example:
"Scáthach, you remember Scáthach, right?"
"The price she paid was actually much more severe than mine—the curse of a mortal stepping into the divine domain still causes her great pain to this day."
"But so what? So many years have passed, isn't she still living just fine?"
It had to be admitted that Scáthach's status in the hearts of the Celts was really high. Even Artoria, the Chosen King, nodded in conviction after hearing the name of this master of heroes, no longer dwelling on the matter of the curses.
Besides, didn't she herself carry a few "curses"?
In Artoria's understanding, the so-called "throne" was a kind of curse. Anyone who was tainted by it had to abandon all personal emotions and happiness, and strive for the prosperity of this country for the rest of their lives—but even so, in order to protect the smiles on the faces of the Britons, she still embarked on this path full of thorns, a path whose end was destined to be unfortunate, and became the king of Britain without hesitation.
"But fortunately, these sacrifices are all worth it."
"The Usurper King is dead, and the island's anger has subsided."
"Next, it will be a true era of peace, right?"
Looking at the gradually dissipating dark clouds, and the grace of the sun showing through the cracks in the clouds, the girl's face was full of hope.
—Next, would be the era of [King Arthur].
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