The sword stood planted in the ground.
Winna's face was pale.
But as Alaric had said, she had no time to hesitate.
Kill her kin or kill the dragon... she forced her trembling hand to grasp the cold sword hilt.
"Hey... "
Artoria's brow furrowed as she watched.
She couldn't fathom how things had spiraled to this point... the dragon had saved these dying villagers, yet in a blink, they'd become enemies.
"This is too cruel!"
Artoria couldn't accept it, her sense of Chivalry urging her to act. As Winna gripped the hilt, she reached out to intervene.
... But at that moment, a hand clapped onto her shoulder, stopping her cold.
"You'd best not, Artoria."
A gentle but firm voice sounded behind her. Startled, Artoria turned to see the Flower Magus, who usually guided her only in dreams.
"Merlin? When did you get here?"
"Oh… a little while ago."
The magus answered with a smile.
Before the anxious Artoria could say more, he turned his gaze to the wary baby dragon in the air, nodding slightly.
"Your Highness, White Dragon, good day. I hope you'll forgive my unannounced visit... my disciple has many shortcomings."
His words were polite.
Alaric stared at him for a moment, then snorted discontentedly, landing atop the temple. Ignoring the "teacher" And "student." He focused on the girl who had crossed the rocky pass.
"Ah, lucky me."
"Intruding on a dragon god's domain would give even me some pressure."
Merlin wiped his forehead, feigning relief.
Then, turning to the hesitant Artoria, he began an impromptu "field lesson."
"This is an unexpected lesson... I didn't foresee this. But since it's happened, there's no helping it."
"Ria, heed my warning."
"No matter how close you are to Him, even if you share food... when He disciplines His vassal, you must not interfere."
"Unless you're ready to break with Him, even to wage war."
…
A king is never alone.
Every king has vassals... not the opportunistic sort who serve any master, but those who share the king's ideals and support them on the same path.
Artoria, destined to be king, had long considered who she'd build her legacy with.
Of course, there was no question. Sir Ector's decade of teachings had woven Chivalry into her soul, an inseparable part of her spirit.
"But He is different."
"He is a true dragon. His vassals should be dragons too."
"But this island has no other dragons for Him to command."
"So, when forced to take humans as subjects, He must temper them."
As Alaric had said.
He wasn't a god, fond of praying humans. He admired true warriors, those who acted decisively.
"Doing something may not be right, but doing nothing is always wrong!"
Alaric seemed to force the girl into a choice, but in truth, he was imparting the core tenet of the [White Dragon]:
"Dare to think."
"Dare to act!"
…
Winna, sword in hand, stepped through the rocky pass into the open.
Before her stood her former tribespeople... every face familiar, some even dear.
"Hey, Winna, you're really here!"
Warm cheers rose from the crowd.
But the girl heard none of it.
She raised her sword and struck the nearest tribesman... a clean cut.
Splurch...
The sharp blade pierced his body... not fatally, as she aimed for his shoulder.
It was deliberate.
She refused to kill her kin but couldn't turn her blade on the god she revered… She chose a middle path.
A path that seemed crueler than outright killing them:
"Winna, are you mad... "
Slash...
She gave no explanations.
Resolved, she swung her sword, striking arms and legs.
Her goal was singular: keep her kin alive while stopping them from nearing the temple.
Of course, her tribespeople weren't mindless targets, letting her attack freely.
When she wounded the first, the others sensed danger and fought back.
But… the gap was too vast.
Though some tribespeople, like her, had undergone the dragon's blood "cleansing ritual." Their hair turned silver-white, the rituals differed.
Like myths of a divine craftsman shaping figures, the first creations were meticulously crafted masterpieces, while later ones were mere specks of clay flicked from a vine.
The same applied here. Though all were cleansed by dragon's blood, Winna... chosen by Alaric, the first to soak in the pond... gained power far beyond her kin, who bathed together.
Facing their full assault, the untrained girl merely swung her sword haphazardly, easily toppling three or four.
After about ten minutes, fewer than a third remained standing.
"So, will you keep fighting?"
"If you all fall here… even non-lethal wounds could kill you from blood loss without timely aid."
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