"The Spirit Tomb of Albion?"
Hearing the familiar name of Albion, Souya's thoughts immediately turned, and he quickly remembered the information about this term. The Spirit Tomb of Albion, where Albion was the name of the place and Spirit Tomb was the designation.
He had learned about this place as early as when he was an Executor. In modern times, the Spirit Tomb of Albion had long been discovered and taken over by the Clock Tower, one of the three major organizations of the Mages' Association. The specific location was in the basement of a certain museum in Britain, a huge maze called the "Otherworldly Demon Realm" by the magi, and a spirit tomb where countless corpses and materials of fantastical species were buried.
And this location was obviously consistent with the huge karst cave he saw now. But what he hadn't expected was that this place, which even he, as a powerful figure in the Holy Church, couldn't have entered in modern times, had been so easily reached by the vile king in Britain a few hundred years ago.
Since he knew that this was the Spirit Tomb of Albion, then combining Vortigern's words and the information he knew, in just an instant, he understood what Vortigern wanted to show him and what his final plan was.
As expected, after continuing to follow him through one passage after another, they finally arrived at the deepest part of the Albion Spirit Tomb. And here, there was a behemoth that occupied the entire passage, or to be precise, the corpse of a behemoth.
Even though it was now dead, and half of its body had become rotten and withered, he still recognized its identity at a glance.
A dragon, a giant dragon, just as described in the myths. It was huge and beautiful, its neatly arranged scales and body were like the creation of an angel, but its ferocious dragon head and rugged wings were as if they had come from the hand of a devil. Although it had died and decayed, and its posture was even like that of a big dog digging in the ground before it died, this still did not stop him from marveling at its wonder and the greatness that the creator had shown when creating it.
Of course, compared to the Albion dragon in the Pan-Human History that he saw now, what most people knew was actually its other form. The British Lostbelt, one of the three Fairy Knights of Fairy Britain, given the name of the knight Lancelot by the fairy's savior Morgan, that is, the Grand Dragon, who loved to eat children (Gudako), Mélusine.
But compared to the cute and lovely Mélusine, he really couldn't associate the dragon corpse before his eyes with her.
Looking at the him who was staring at the giant dragon's corpse in a daze, Vortigern smiled slightly and said, "What do you think? Very shocking, right? I was the same as you when I first saw it."
"It is indeed very shocking."
Hearing this, he came back to his senses from his chaotic thoughts and subconsciously nodded. Then he asked, "So your final goal is to rely on this Albion dragon to consolidate the Age of Gods?"
He still remembered that in the second deduction, Vortigern's way of retaining the Age of Gods was to use magic to turn Albion's corpse into a medium, and thus sink into the Inner Sea of the Planet to obtain a steady stream of True Ether to retain the Age of Gods in Britain. Looking at the ley lines scattered around, he probably knew how the Vortigern in the deduction had transported the True Ether to the whole of Britain.
Then was Vortigern's choice this time the same as in the deduction?
Just as he was secretly speculating, Vortigern shook his head and denied his words. "No, this method is not feasible."
His tone was very certain, as if he had personally seen the failure of this plan. "A magic circle is always a magic circle. A little damage can ruin all our efforts. This is simply not enough to support it for as long as expected. Besides..."
At this, Vortigern paused for a moment, and a hint of emotion appeared in his gaze as he looked at Albion. "The dragon has already given enough. In its life, it missed the opportunity to return to the reverse side of the world because of its attachment to Britain and died exhausted in this earth's crust. After death, most of its corpse has turned into nutrients to barely maintain the current Britain. As a thing of the same Age of Gods as it, even if I have to use it, I want to do it in the most decent and dignified way."
"...I understand."
After listening to his account in silence, he nodded gently. "Then Lord Vortigern, you should also tell me what the plan for retaining the Age of Gods you mentioned is, and what your purpose in seeking me out is, and what role I should play in your plan."
With that said, he stood on the spot and quietly stared at Vortigern's back, waiting for his answer. And the latter naturally no longer intended to hide it from him.
"Of course, Lamorak. After seeing these things, I believe you will not disappoint my expectations."
Vortigern smiled and nodded, then, in front of him, he waved his right hand in the air. The next moment, the space in front of him instantly distorted, and then a silver-white, strangely shaped cavalry spear slowly appeared in his hand.
"Since letting the Age of Gods remain is against the general trend of the world, then to achieve this goal, we naturally need something that can resist the will of the world, and even is itself a thing that establishes the rules of the world."
"This is..."
Sensing the familiar aura emanating from the cavalry spear, his eyes instantly sharpened. It was the same aura of the end as the pseudo-holy lance Morgan had given him, but without a doubt, the one in Vortigern's hand was definitely the real thing.
"It seems my niece really cares about you, to even tell you about the Star Anchor."
Sensing the emotion in his eyes, Vortigern couldn't help but tease him with a smile. "In that case, I can also entrust her to you with peace of mind, nephew-in-law."
But at this time, he had absolutely no energy to deal with his teasing, because the moment the latter took out the Holy Lance, a long-lost system prompt appeared in his mind.
[Ding, the state 'Goddess's Gaze' has been activated, thus evolving into → skill 'Rhongomyniad's Recognition (A)'.]
Before he could react, another emotionless female voice appeared in his mind.
"Finally, I've been waiting for you."
The next moment, under Vortigern's astonished gaze, the Rhongomyniad that he had been holding tightly in his hand instantly turned into a beam of light and slipped out of his palm. Then, under the watchful eyes of the public, it landed in his hand, and its form also changed from the previous cavalry spear to a platinum-colored long spear.
"I say, I don't know anything and I didn't do anything. Do you believe me?"
Looking at the platinum spear in his hand that was sending out waves of goodwill, his mouth twitched again, and his teeth hurt a little. And Vortigern's gaze was always fixed on him, silent.
After a long while, just as he was about to ignore Rhongomyniad's will and return it to Vortigern, the other party, as if he had suddenly been enlightened, showed a helpless smile. "Forget it, it seems I really underestimated you, Lamorak."
"Lord Vortigern..."
The old man waved his hand at him, signaling him not to mind, then said with a smile, "Actually, it's the same whether the Star Anchor is in your hands or mine. As long as you can throw it out at that time to open the passage left by Albion, it will be fine."
Hearing this, he was stunned for a moment. But before he could ask, Vortigern's next sentence instantly made the young knight stand at attention. "But it just so happens that, anyway, according to my plan, you also have to go to Arthur's Round Table Knights as an undercover agent. Now that you have obtained Rhongomyniad's recognition and changed her shape, I think you won't lose face in that Round Table Knights, which is full of holy sword users."
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