Chapter 73: The White Bride!!!
God once made a covenant with the King.
An eternal covenant.
[Artoria Pendragon.]
[So long as you are the king of this country, so long as you are willing to be its king, I will uphold your ideal kingdom. I promise you that in that noble land, the apocalypse of suffering will never arrive.]
The powerful voice was an oath etched into the very fabric of heaven and earth.
The god had fulfilled his promise.
In this final age of the gods, an era destined for ruin, the god willingly cast aside his divine radiance and plunged into a mire of curses and despair, all to honor his pact with the King.
He did it perfectly. It couldn't have been done better.
—And yet, the more perfect his actions were, the more pain Artoria felt.
Now, she finally understood what Merlin meant when he said, "You taught him too well."
"That was never his dream," she murmured.
"It was only ever my ideal."
"To realize the naive dream of a little girl, he shouldered the weight of the entire world."
Artoria felt a surge of both pride and sorrow.
She realized that from the very beginning, the little dragon had never been doing what he was supposed to do, or what he wanted to do.
The King's ideal was like a set of chains, binding him firmly to this land, trapping him in the prison known as "Britain."
—He never should have become like this.
—He never should have had to bear these burdens.
—He never needed to become a god.
"Thankfully, it's not too late."
"Don't worry. I will now free you from the prison called 'Divinity'."
"Fly. You are the freest of dragons. Go and do what you truly want to do."
The King of the End brandished the holy spear that symbolized finality, ready to bring a perfect end to it all.
"Farewell, God!"
She bid farewell to the god who had once given her immense aid.
At the same time, she was bidding farewell to the version of herself who held that lofty ideal.
—This land no longer needs a god.
—And likewise, this land no longer needs a Sainted King.
…
Artoria hurled the holy spear with all her might.
The golden lance streaked across the sky like a dazzling meteor, striking the demonic dragon's body with pinpoint accuracy.
—Of course, with the dragon's body being nearly the size of the island of Britain, it would have been difficult not to hit it.
"BOOM—"
The moment it made contact, the spear's power was instantly unleashed, transforming into a pillar of light that connected heaven and earth.
Rhongomyniad—the "Anchor of the Planet" used to pin the very texture of the world. It could pierce through concepts themselves.
And that was exactly what Artoria had hoped for.
The Spear of Salvation pierced the demonic dragon's body but did not take its life. Its true target was the dragon's divinity and the despair and curses it shouldered.
"ROAR—"
Struck by the spear, Bailong felt a violent, searing pain wrack his body.
It was an agony akin to being flayed alive, so heart-wrenching that his very soul trembled.
But at the same time, his body felt lighter, brighter.
"It's... it's getting smaller?"
"No, wait, it's like something is struggling inside the dragon's body."
The Knights of the Round Table looked up, watching the colossal dragon writhe and roll in the sky.
The curses and despair once again manifested as a black sludge, instantly engulfing the dragon's form.
But within that terrifying despair, a white dragon was struggling to open its feathered wings, trying to break free from the mire.
"Can he escape?" the knights wondered aloud.
The white dragon's four wings beat powerfully, lifting him bit by bit into the air. It seemed there was a glimmer of hope.
But the black mud below clung to him like a tenacious adhesive, preventing him from truly escaping its horrifying grasp.
How could he possibly break free?
These curses weren't ordinary filth that could simply be discarded.
Since he had chosen to bear these curses to seize victory, he now had to pay a price equivalent to that victory to abandon them.
But what did he have left to pay with?
—Faced with curses that clung to him like a persistent plague, even Bailong himself began to feel a sense of despair.
He had exhausted all his trump cards and still couldn't think of a way to rid himself of these things... Should he be like the Dragon of Albion, abandon his physical body and escape into the Sea of Stars as a soul?
"No, that won't be necessary," Artoria said suddenly, standing upon the earth.
"You've helped me so much."
"Now, it's my turn to help you."
"Merlin, have you found the dagger yet?"
"Hehehe, I have not failed my King—"
Hearing her call, the disheveled magus descended from the sky.
In his hand, he held a brilliant golden dagger.
—[Golden Dagger of Ruin].
…
Artoria took the dagger.
Under the bewildered gazes of the other Round Table knights, she unleashed its power without hesitation.
"I entrust this body to you, to become your new wings!"
"Towards the future, spread your wings and fly—"
Artoria cried out, plunging the dagger into her own body.
In the next instant, her soul burst forth. It flew to the white dragon and fused with him, forming a new wing.
The fifth wing!
"ROOOOAR—"
The white dragon beat its wings, and a new power erupted from within him. It shattered the clinging black mud, and he let out a roar of freedom.
"So... so beautiful—"
The knights, who had never witnessed such a magnificent creature, stared with wide eyes.
The white dragon's body was still immense, blotting out the sun, but it no longer had the bloated feeling from before. Its form had become slender and elegant, almost to the point of being described as "dreamlike" and "graceful."
And the five wings on its back radiated the purest light in the world. Under their glow, the terrifying black mud vanished as if meeting its natural enemy, leaving no trace behind.
[A power of pure white, born from the infinite wellspring of time. Its wings tremble with the resonating echoes of crossing souls, now emerging from the azure abyss!]
[Ding! Congratulations, Host. You have unlocked a new form: Abyssal-Eyed White Dragon.]
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