The god had made a covenant with the king.
An eternal vow.
Artoria Pendragon.
"As long as you remain this kingdom's king, as long as you still wish to be its king, I will uphold your utopian ideal... I swear to you, in that exalted kingdom, the apocalypse that brings suffering to all life will never come."
A resolute voice, a vow etched into the fabric of this world.
The god fulfilled His promise.
In this doomed twilight of the Age of Gods, the god cast aside His divine radiance, plunging into the mire of curses and despair to honor His covenant with the king.
He did well... exceptionally well, beyond perfection.
... But the better He performed, the deeper Artoria's pain.
Now she understood what Merlin meant by "you've taught him too well."
"That was never his dream."
"It was merely my ideal."
"For a naive girl's dream, he bore the weight of the entire world with his body."
Artoria felt a mix of relief and sorrow.
All along, that little dragon had never pursued what it was meant to do, what it wanted to do.
The king's ideal had chained it to this land, trapping it in the prison called "Britannia."
... It didn't have to become this.
... It didn't need to bear these burdens.
... It didn't need to become a god.
"Fortunately, it's not too late."
"Don't worry, I'll free you from the prison called Divinity."
"Fly, you're the freest dragon... go do what you truly want."
The king of the end wielded the holy lance symbolizing finality, determined to bring this chapter to a perfect close.
"Farewell, my god!"
She bid goodbye to the god who had once given her immense aid.
At the same time, she bid farewell to the idealistic self who harbored lofty dreams.
... This land no longer needed a god.
... Nor did it need a holy king.
…
Artoria hurled the holy lance with all her strength.
The golden-gleaming lance streaked across the sky like a radiant meteor, striking the dragon's body with precision.
... Of course, with the dragon's body rivaling the size of Britannia itself, missing would have been difficult.
Boom...
The moment it touched the dragon, the lance's power unleashed, transforming into a pillar of light connecting heaven and earth.
Rhongomyniad... the Anchor of the Planet, capable of piercing even concepts.
This was exactly what Artoria had hoped for.
The lance of salvation pierced the dragon's body, not to take its life, but to strike at its divinity and the despair and curses it bore.
Roar...
Alaric, struck by the lance, felt a searing pain course through him.
It was an agony like being flayed, tearing at his heart, making his soul tremble.
Yet, at the same time, his body grew lighter, brighter.
"It's… shrinking?"
"No, wait... something's struggling within the dragon's body."
The Knights of the Round Table looked up, watching the colossal dragon writhe in the sky.
The curses and despair coalesced into a black mire, engulfing the dragon's form.
But within that terrifying despair, a white dragon strained, spreading its wings, fighting to break free from the mire.
"Can he break free?"
The knights watched the dragon's struggle.
Its four wings flapped fiercely, inching upward, showing glimmers of hope.
But the black mire clung like adhesive, anchoring him, preventing true escape.
How could he break free?
These curses weren't mere refuse to be discarded at will.
Having embraced them for victory, shedding them now required a price equal to that triumph.
But what did he have left to pay?
... Facing the relentless curses, even Alaric felt a flicker of despair.
He had played all his cards, yet found no way to escape… Was his only option to follow the Dragon of Albion, abandoning this body and fleeing as a soul into the Inner Sea of the Planet?
"No, you don't need to."
Suddenly, Artoria spoke from the ground.
"You've helped me so much."
"Now it's my turn to help you."
"Merlin, have you found that dagger yet?"
"Heh, mission accomplished... "
At the king's call, the disheveled magus descended from the sky.
In his hand was a gleaming golden dagger.
... Erosion, the Golden Blade.
…
Artoria took the dagger.
Under the puzzled gazes of the other knights, she unleashed its power without hesitation.
"I entrust my body to you, to become your new wings!"
"Fly toward the future!"
Artoria shouted, plunging the dagger into her own body.
In the next instant, her soul burst forth, soaring to the white dragon and transforming into a new wing.
The fifth wing!
Roar...
The white dragon flapped its wings, a surge of newfound power erupting within. It shattered the relentless black mire, unleashing a roar of freedom.
"So… so beautiful... "
The knights, who had never seen such a radiant creature, stared wide-eyed.
The dragon's body remained vast, blotting out the sky, but it no longer felt bloated. It was now sleek and elegant, worthy of being called graceful, ethereal.
The five wings on its back shone with the purest light in the world. Under their glow, the terrifying black mire dissolved like prey before a predator, leaving no trace.
[The pure white power, born from the source of boundless time, raises wings that resonate in the intertwining echoes of souls, emerging from the azure abyss!]
[Ding! Congratulations to the host for unlocking a new form: Abyss-Eyes White Dragon.]
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