Vena stepped out of the cave.
She raised her head, gazing at the colossal white dragon descending from the sky, feeling an unprecedented surge of awe coursing through her.
"So… massive."
She couldn't help but exclaim.
In truth, she had already heard about that day's events from bards' tales... the legendary white dragon manifesting in its divine form, its wings capable of casting a shadow over an entire town. It descended from the heavens, forging a final sacred pact with Britain's chosen king, promising her the creation of an ideal kingdom on earth. Such poems had become wildly popular recently, recited in nearly every tavern across the land.
But hearing about it and witnessing it with her own eyes were two entirely different experiences.
The phrase "a shadow that blankets a town" lacked a sense of reality, as Vena had no concept of the town's actual size. Yet, when this pure white dragon god truly appeared before her, its mountain-like majesty instantly made her understand what it meant to be "supreme" in the truest sense.
"Good evening, my lord. I hope I haven't disturbed your rest."
As the dust settled, Vena cheerfully waved, greeting Alaric.
Her gesture might have seemed casual, but in truth, this was the most natural way for a [king and vassal] or [god and priest] to interact.
They were family... bound by shared interests and identical ideals. Who would fuss over formalities with their own kin?
"Come, my lord, take a look at this woman… Trust me, she won't disappoint you!"
Vena reentered the cave and brought out the noble woman.
By now, the ropes binding the woman had been completely removed... Vena was confident she could no longer escape.
And Morgan didn't struggle.
In fact, at this moment, she was even more aware than Vena of the inescapable reality of her situation.
From a young age, she had learned from King Uther about the fate of the "clash of the two dragons" And genuinely believed herself to be the final Red Dragon King.
But now, the true White Dragon had found her, and she, the so-called Red Dragon King, was about to be slain by her fated nemesis!
"But, but…"
Raising her head to gaze at the towering creature, like a mountain of white jade, the frail, pitiful, and helpless Red Dragon Princess turned pale, her lips trembling. She had to admit the fear gripping her heart.
Yet, she still lifted her head.
"I only ask… for a swift death!"
Morgan forced the words out of her throat with great difficulty, as if squeezing them from her very core.
Then she closed her eyes, refusing to utter another word.
…
In the face of her destined foe, the proud Red Dragon Princess chose to meet her end with dignity.
This stark contrast piqued Vena's curiosity. After all, just moments ago in the cave, this woman had been incessantly offering all sorts of lavish promises just to preserve her life.
Back then, Vena had thought she was dealing with a woman terrified of death!
"So, Lord Divine, are you really that frightening?"
"She's so scared she's even begging for a 'swift death'!"
Vena curiously studied the white dragon before her.
She admitted that this enormous being indeed carried an overwhelming presence. Anyone standing before it would feel their own insignificance, instinctively compelled to kneel in reverence. But was it terrifying to the point of "fearing being devoured"?
On the contrary, this white dragon gave Vena a sense of sanctity. The white light emanating from its scales was so pure and dreamlike, it brought comfort. Bathed in this light, Vena even felt an urge to curl up and take a peaceful nap.
"So, Lord Divine, what's her deal? I feel something familiar about her… She seems a lot like that ahoge-wearing girl from before, but she's definitely not the same person."
Vena curiously examined the woman. By now, Morgan's black veil had been removed, and moonlight illuminated her pale face, casting a crystalline glow.
"Looking closely, aside from the different hair color and build, they're practically the same person!"
It had to be said, Vena's intuition was sharp.
Or perhaps, the resemblance between this woman and Artoria was simply too striking... almost as if they were carved from the same mold.
"Ah, she's her sister."
"The second red dragon on this island."
"Eh? There's a second one of those?!?"
…
By all accounts, there should only be one red dragon.
The Red Dragon King and the White Dragon King... only one of each... battling across this island until the end of the Age of Gods.
"But this is the world of TYPE-MOON."
"Things that should happen by logic often don't, and exceptions abound."
Just like how a Holy Grail War, meant to involve only seven mages and Servants, always manages to stir up some chaos.
Those mages are always trying to exploit loopholes, creating all sorts of trouble.
Similarly, because of a certain mage's interference, this generation's Red Dragon King was split in two.
[Artoria Pendragon], the girl proposed by King Uther and crafted with Merlin's involvement, inherited the red dragon's "might." becoming Britain's chosen king.
But when "creating" Artoria, Merlin had no idea that the red dragon's "right" Had already been divided.
Morgan... the sole daughter of King Uther, the only princess of Camelot. On the surface, she appeared as an elegant princess, but in truth, she was the one truly acknowledged by this island, the inheritor of the red dragon's mystery, the "Lord of the Island."
This was a grave mistake by the mage, one that directly prevented Artoria from sensing the island's will, rendering her unable to wield the lingering mysteries of the island as a true Red Dragon King would.
As for Morgan… this candidate for the Red Dragon King, who was originally qualified to inherit the throne and evolve into the complete form, lost her chance at "completion" due to Artoria's creation, never to reclaim her "might."
"So, it's all Merlin's fault."
"He really deserves to pay for this!"
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