When I finally regained my senses, I found myself sprawled ungracefully upon the cold earth. Why... why was I lying here?
I struggled to piece together my fragmented memories. Artoria had unleashed the light of Excalibur, and I had moved toward her, struck by a sense of unease. Then, through the fading radiance, I had felt a sinister presence radiating from the surviving Vortigern. I had thrown myself forward, shielding Artoria with my own body... and after that, everything went dark.
Was Artoria safe?
As I attempted to push myself up, a searing agony lanced through every fiber of my being. It didn't feel as though any bones were shattered or cracked, but I had clearly sustained a staggering impact.
Looking down, I saw my body covered in a tapestry of minor bruises and lacerations. My armor was a mangled ruin, crumpled and twisted, barely clinging to my frame. The skin across my back, which must have taken the brunt of the strike, throbbed with the rhythmic pulse of a severe burn. It was, quite frankly, an exquisite degree of pain.
Blood from a gash on my forehead matted my eyelashes, sealing one eye shut.
Yet, I was not one to yield to such trifles. My spirit, forged in the crucible of the Round Table's endless administrative all-nighters, remained unshaken by mere physical distress. Grasping the hilt of my sword—a blade I had not released even in unconsciousness—I used it as a crutch to force myself upright.
"Ugh..."
I surveyed my surroundings. The lush, emerald plains had been reduced to a scorched wasteland of ash and fire. Discarded weapons lay scattered amidst burning corpses. I murmured at the sight, my voice hollow.
"...What in the name of God has happened?"
Suddenly, a thunderous cry rent the air. I spun around toward the source. There, a dragon of titanic proportions was locked in a fierce struggle with Gawain and Artoria.
Seeing Artoria still standing brought a wave of relief. She seemed unharmed. Thank heavens.
As for Gawain? I felt no such concern. With the sun still high in the heavens, the Numeral of the Saint rendered him essentially invincible.
Agitated by the twin assaults of the knights, the dragon let out a roar saturated with dense magical energy. The resulting shockwave slammed into me, and for a fleeting second, my very soul felt oppressed by the weight of its prana. This was the 'Dragon's Fear,' the innate aura of a Phantasmal Species born to dominate. But I was a Knight of the Round Table, a veteran of a thousand trials. To recoil now would be a stain upon the title. Ignoring the screaming protests of my nerves, I sprinted toward Artoria at the greatest speed I could muster.
Sensing my approach amidst the chaos, Artoria flicked her gaze toward me, her eyes widening in sheer shock.
"Eli—Elius?! Are you alright? Your condition—"
"I'm fine. I can manage," I cut her off. "More importantly... is that dragon Vortigern?"
"...Yes. He has undergone a transformation," she replied, her face set in a grim mask.
"I see... Is Excalibur effective?"
At my question, Artoria shook her head slowly, her expression darkening. "No. It is useless. He... he swallows the very Mystery of the blade."
A monstrous ability. If he could consume Mystery itself, then theoretically, no Holy Sword would ever be able to fell him.
"There must be a weakness. Have you attempted to use Rhongomyniad, the lance Merlin entrusted to you?"
"Not yet. I have found no opening... Wait, he is coming!"
The beast roared again as if it had tired of our posturing, lunging forward with terrifying momentum. Despite its massive size, its speed was blinding; a direct parry was out of the question. I rolled to the side, narrowly evading its reach, and poured my prana into my blade, unleashing a reinforced slash.
Squelch!
"Impossible...!"
Even with Prana Burst and my blade fully reinforced—a strike capable of severing almost anything short of a Noble Phantasm—I had succeeded only in leaving a superficial scratch upon Vortigern's hide. I unleashed several more strikes fueled by my remaining energy, but they were as futile as throwing pebbles at a fortress.
My shock lasted only a moment before the truth hit me: he was indeed absorbing the Mystery of my attacks. I performed a desperate backflip, barely dodging the massive claws that tore through the space where I had just stood.
[Do you truly believe such pitiful stings can reach me?!]
Vortigern's voice boomed, his eyes fixed on me as I steadied my grip.
[Why do you persist? Why do you refuse to acknowledge the end? Why do you cling to your humanity? Britain is destined for ruin! Your lives are forfeit! Rather than letting this island be defiled by the hands of men, I shall return it to the primordial age myself. I shall transform Great Britain into a purgatory—a dark paradise where humanity shall never tread for all eternity.]
"Gah!"
A massive tail swept toward me. Though I managed to leap clear of the direct hit, the impact of the tail striking the earth sent a shockwave that hurled me through the air.
"Excalibur!" Artoria cried.
"Excalibur Galatine!" Gawain roared in unison.
[Ugh!]
Vortigern, who had been raising his foot to crush my fallen form, staggered as he was struck by two pillars of radiant light. However, I noticed something as I watched him endure the onslaught.
The absorption of Mystery... it isn't instantaneous.
Realizing this, I shouted to Artoria, "Artoria! He's barely managing to hold back the Holy Swords! He's pinned down! This is your chance! Show him the light that shines from the ends of the world!"
"...! Understood!"
Artoria reached out, and the Holy Lance, Rhongomyniad, manifested in her grasp—the weapon of light Merlin had bestowed upon her.
"Luminosity... Secret of the Holy Lance! Decision Start!"
This is a battle for survival—Approved: Kay.
This is a battle against one greater than oneself—Approved: Bedivere.
This is not a battle against an Elemental—Approved: Lancelot.
This is a battle for honor—Approved: Gawain.
This is a battle to protect that which is precious—Approved: Elius.
One by one, the restraints on the Holy Lance began to dissolve, the weapon glowing with an ever-increasing intensity. Though the seals of Agravain and Tristan remained shut, more than half of the restraints had been released—the conditions for the True Name Release had been met. Artoria leveled the blinding lance at the Vile King.
Vortigern realized too late what manner of weapon she held. He tried to recoil, but there was no escaping the anchor of the world.
"And lastly—this is a battle to save the world!"
...Approved.
"Rhongomyniad!"
The Holy Lance unleashed its full power, a radiant beam of light that seemed to tether the very texture of the world. The spear of light pierced straight through the center of Vortigern's chest. His heart punctured, the great beast collapsed heavily onto the scorched earth. Simultaneously, the exertion drained Artoria of nearly all her prana. She staggered, her face deathly pale.
I rushed to her side to support her.
"Are you alright? You're as white as a sheet."
"Ha... ha... I am fine, Elius. Just... give me a moment. My strength has failed me now that my prana is spent."
"Don't worry about that. Up we go!"
"...?!"
I scooped Artoria up into my arms—a textbook 'princess carry,' supporting her back and the crook of her knees. For a moment, Artoria simply blinked in bewilderment. Then, realizing her precarious and decidedly un-kingly position, her face flushed crimson and she began to squirm.
"Wha—What are you doing?!"
"Hey! Don't wiggle! You'll fall!"
"Why are you holding me like this?! You could have simply carried me on your back!"
"My back is burned to a crisp, remember?"
"—Ah."
She fell silent at my blunt reminder. I let out a soft chuckle.
"Rest for a while. You've fought hard."
"...."
She gazed at me for a long moment before finally surrendering, leaning her head against my chest. I smiled and prepared to walk back to our lines. Beside us, Gawain was chuckling at the sight, but his expression suddenly shifted to one of pure horror. He began sprinting toward me.
"Get down! Move!"
I had no time to wonder why he was screaming. A massive shadow eclipsed us, and a bone-chilling dread washed over me. From right behind us, a voice dripping with murderous intent hissed.
[Ggrrr... Kill... I will kill you!!!]
He was still alive?!
I knew instantly that I couldn't evade the attack while carrying her. If one of us had to survive, it had to be Artoria. Without a second's hesitation, I hurled her with all my might toward the charging Gawain. As she flew through the air, her face twisted in a mask of realization and terror, I saw the maw of the dragon descend upon me.
Ah. So this is how I die.
With that final thought, I was swallowed whole by the dragon.