Type-Moon Simulation: Starting with Conquering a Greek Goddess!-Chapter 117 - : The Dragon’s Question

[Facing overwhelming numerical odds]

[The army was mired in the hellish battlefield of war]

[The symphony of roars and screams rose and fell, playing without mercy]

[The drama of life and death repeated itself]

[Slaughter, annihilation]

[The Britons fighting against the foreign invasion, the Saxons driven from the mainland, desperate for survival]

[Both sides were fighting with all their might]

[Good and evil no longer mattered]

[Both sides held their own sense of justice, and the reasons for their cause were irrelevant]

[They were enemies united by their desire to survive]

[Coexistence was impossible]

[The island of Britain no longer had the capacity to accept immigrants. This was a war that would continue until one side perished]

[Now, the enemy sought to overwhelm you with numbers and momentum]

[Almost everyone believed defeat was inevitable]

[But this was undoubtedly the soldiers' and knights' unnecessary worry. The undefeated king, leading the Knights of the Round Table, was unstoppable on the battlefield]

[No matter how fierce the foreign tribes were, they could not stop her]

[The king's radiance would crush them]

"Your Majesty! You're charging too fast! The knights behind won't be able to keep up! Our formation needs to match your pace!"

Gawain swung his sword, Excalibur Galatine. The blazing sunfire that once surrounded him was no longer present. Since the war began, the sun had been swallowed by darkness. Even at noon, his sword could not unleash its full power. This was the work of Vortigern, whose darkness enveloped the entire island of Britain.

"Sir Gawain! Do not worry about me! These foreign enemies who dare to disturb Britain—I will annihilate them all!"

"Your Majesty—!"

Gawain's voice could not reach her. The radiance of the Knight King was still dazzling, but it was no longer warm. Instead, it burned with an intensity that seemed to consume everything, like the breath of an enraged dragon.

"Your Majesty... what is happening...?"

Gawain sensed something was wrong. The Artoria of the past would never have acted like this.

She would have been more calm and composed, coordinating with her subordinates to crush the enemy with minimal losses. But now, the king's calm seemed to have vanished. She recklessly released torrents of magical energy from her limbs, her dragon core operating at maximum efficiency without restraint. Every swing of her sword was aimed at killing the enemy faster, her steps filled with anxiety and anger.

"Sir Agravain, don't you think the king is acting strange?"

"Hm? Sir Gawain, do you doubt the radiance of our king? Look, the enemy is trembling in fear of her light, while our morale continues to rise! Even in such a dire situation, our king brings us hope. What could possibly be strange about her?"

Agravain's eyes burned with fervor. Even the usually reserved knight was intoxicated by the king's radiance, following her footsteps as he cut down the enemy.

"No... that's not what I meant..."

Gawain's voice grew softer. He buried his doubts deep within. No one else seemed to notice the strangeness in Artoria's behavior—only he did. In the end, even he began to doubt himself. How could the undefeated, perfect King Arthur have any flaws? It must be his own imagination. He reassured himself with such thoughts.

"Sigh... I must keep up with Her Majesty...!"

Gawain took a deep breath and gripped his sword tightly. He watched as the king, drenched in blood, continued to cut through the enemy. At the same time, he unleashed his sunfire once more.

[Artoria continued to break through the enemy's defenses]

[Her knights followed closely behind]

[You were not on the battlefield of humans. You were on the battlefield of the inhuman]

[You faced Vortigern]

[Long before the two armies clashed, you had released your presence, inviting him to sense you]

[Vortigern did not refuse this invitation]

[He had come here fully aware of your identity, without hesitation]

"Albion, it's been a long time. Fifteen years ago, I once sensed your presence. At the time, I thought I was just getting old and my senses were failing me. But it seems I was wrong. The guardian dragon of Britain still lives..."

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Vortigern's aged face was filled with nostalgia. There was no hostility in his gaze.

"Fifteen years ago, you mean that time... It was when I returned to Britain after five hundred years."

Moran recalled the first time he had soared through the skies of Britain. Back then, he had spread

True Ether, bringing the island back to the Age of Gods. It was no wonder Vortigern had sensed him.

"Your return was quite the spectacle. It allowed me to witness a rare and wondrous sight. It was so nostalgic—the original form of Britain, something I hadn't seen since the Age of Gods faded. Allow me to express my gratitude here, for the miracle you showed us."

"There's no need. I didn't perform that miracle for anyone. Your gratitude means nothing to me. Vortigern, you sensed my presence and still chose to come here. Was it just to thank me?"

Moran had performed that miracle for Morgan. It was not for anyone else.

Therefore, he never intended to accept anyone's gratitude.

The atmosphere of the conversation was quite amicable. If one were to disregard their opposing stances, an observer might easily mistake them for old friends reuniting after many years apart.

"Haha, to me, that sight holds such value. This debt of gratitude is not something I plan to forget lightly. I deeply love Britain, and it is precisely because of this—Albion, the Dragon of the Boundary, I have a question for you."

Vortigern seemed to pour out his true feelings, filled with genuine respect.

"Why resist? Why deny? Why identify as a human? Britain must now be destroyed. Everything living on this island must perish. You, who have guarded Britain for a thousand years, why do you choose to aid humans?"

"Because I do not merely favor this island. I also cherish the radiant things that emerge from it. What you see as filth, I see as brilliance."

Moran responded with equal courtesy. Though the world sees Vortigern as a mad dragon, Moran understands the truth behind the dragon's madness. He is a nostalgic soul, yearning for the ancient and mystical, a relic abandoned by time.