Melusine, Become my Noble Phantasm!

In the safety of the war room, all the Knights of the Round Table had gathered. Their eyes were fixed on their king, waiting for the next plan. This was the greatest crisis their order had faced since its founding. Meanwhile, Sun Knight Gawain's gaze never left Aslan.

No matter how he tried, Gawain still felt uneasy about letting these two men walk away with the king's sword from the treasury. If he had truly been able to let go, in Arthurian legend he wouldn't have stopped Lancelot from seeing King Arthur during Mordred's rebellion.

Even if Lancelot wished to help his king quell the uprising, Gawain's stubbornness had prevented him from accepting that aid—and that stubbornness was what doomed both the king and himself.

As Gawain had admitted at death, his obstinacy and pride barred Lancelot from helping Arthur, leading to a tragic end. Even now, as a heroic spirit, Gawain remained that same unrepentant youth.

"Alright, everyone. This is our battle plan against Vortigern. Those who have faced him know how deadly he is. Even with reinforcements, only a few among us can stand against him. Ordinary soldiers cannot breach the castle."

No matter how many knights they had, the evil dragon's sword could reduce them to dust.

So realistically, besides Aslan, Melusine, and Kay, the others couldn't be counted as real combat power. Could three be enough to turn the tide?

As silence fell, Aslan removed the scabbard from his waist and placed it heavily on the table. The knights leaned closer and realized what they'd been missing—this scabbard belonged to King Arthur, explaining why many mistook Aslan for the king himself.

"I didn't expect you to lose your scabbard. I'll borrow it for now..."

Bang!

The scabbard, normally light, suddenly grew unbearably heavy, slamming down with such force it shattered the wooden table and cracked the stone floor.

Aslan stared at his hand mid-air, swallowing his unfinished sentence with an awkward smile. "Sorry… seems this scabbard is a bit willful."

He wondered if his white dragon blood was awakening, making the magic inside him irresistible—like Tang Monk's flesh to the weapons and armor that clung to him. How else to explain this strange attachment?

Maybe these weapons have learned from my predecessors without me knowing—communicating secretly?

No, that couldn't be right. With the Sword of Glorious Victory's jealous nature, it probably wished to be alone, resenting any rival for Aslan's attention.

Artoria looked at the golden scabbard with a flicker of nostalgia. Though she'd lost it only recently, the sting of defeat against the dragon made her long for its protection again. But she didn't reach out.

She couldn't hear the scabbard's voice, but she knew it had chosen a new owner. After all, when Merlin asked if she valued the sword or scabbard more, she had chosen the Holy Sword. The scabbard's feelings were understandable.

Though a queen, Artoria acknowledged her mistakes. She would not force the scabbard back—its loss was her fault, not the new owner's.

The young man before her might not be fully understood yet, but she knew he bore her blood and was chosen by the King's Sword. She would never suppress him; to her, he was her own citizen.

If this were any other kingdom, Aslan's royal blood and connection to the King's Sword would be enough to spark jealousy—possibly even threats to his life.

"No... I caused the loss of Distant Utopia. It's natural she rejects me now. Aslan, from now on, Distant Utopia is yours. In the hands of a blacksmith like you, she'll be happier than in mine."

The scabbard slowly rose and floated back into Aslan's grasp, emitting a gentle, warm glow.

Artoria's brow furrowed briefly before she steeled herself, looking to all around with grave resolve.

"Though we've suffered defeat, we must not give up. If we cannot slay the dragon, this island will become a living hell.

Knights, even if retreat beckons, what awaits us is only the end of the countdown. For the sake of those we love—and this land—we must fight on, even if only a spark of hope remains!

Together, with Aslan's aid, we will conquer the dragon! Let the sun shine once more over Great Britain—victory shall be ours!"

-End Chapter-

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