Melusine, Become my Noble Phantasm!

Let's fast forward to when Artoria decided to march on Rome.

Inside the mountain transformed into a construction base, Aslan smiled as he examined the data displayed across the instruments before him. Over this long period, he had done only one thing—fusing and forging all the fragments of the Mecha God with other materials. The design had been finalized back in Great Britain, and now it had finally been turned into a finished product.

The next step was assembly.

Just as Aslan prepared to begin assembling his greatest masterpiece, the ground trembled. The instruments monitoring underground magma started flashing warnings, and dust fell from above. Forced to pause, Aslan hastily reburied the disposable cooling weapons and equipment he'd scattered earlier.

The ground had been vibrating intermittently for some time. With his experiments nearly complete, Aslan had ignored it—until now. The suppressed magma beneath was stirring again. He couldn't keep working on the final assembly while simultaneously trying to restrain the magma's activity.

"What on earth is happening outside?! Can't I even research in peace?"

Setting aside his tools, Aslan climbed to the mountain's summit. Melusine was already there, gripping a telescope, watching something intently. Nearby was a barbecue grill. She looked like someone relaxing at home on the weekend—snacking and watching a show.

Every now and then, she clenched her fist and whispered excitedly, "Good fight!"

Aslan raised an eyebrow and grabbed a telescope to peer in her direction. There, on the battlefield, the Roman and Hun armies clashed fiercely. Most notably, a large hollow in the center of the fighting contained two warriors: Lucius and Attila.

The Sword of the God of War whipped through the air, but Lucius's magic sword blocked every strike with precise timing. Each clash unleashed magical explosions, and every swing scarred the ground. No other soldiers or generals dared approach.

It was their constant explosive battle that caused the earth's veins beneath Aslan's lab to rekindle. Attila seemed unfazed, but Lucius, the battle fiend, grew more exhilarated with each fight—his strength surging daily.

Aslan's face tightened as the two swords collided again, shaking the ground. Raising his holy spear, he knew he couldn't let this continue. If they fought on, the volcano beneath would surely erupt—and his ultimate weapon wasn't assembled yet!

"Melusine! Show your true form! Fight me as a dragon! If I let them continue, all my work will be for nothing!"

Melusine dropped her barbecue without hesitation. Aslan was the first person she cared for—and his dreams were hers. It had been a year since her last battle, and she was eager to pin that arrogant Roman emperor to the ground.

A mighty dragon roar echoed across the area as black wings spread wide, lifting Aslan above the battlefield. Cloaked in magic, he leapt down with his holy spear poised. The two warriors sensed danger immediately.

They were all seasoned fighters; dying to such a sudden assault would be a laughable tragedy.

The Demon Sword and the Sword of the God of War clashed once more, then both combatants quickly drew back.

The silver holy spear slammed into the earth, cracking the ground. Fortunately, Aslan had reinforced the magma beneath his lab before this battle, or the blow might have ignited a volcanic eruption—even more violent than Lucius and Attila's fight.

Of course, that would cause even more trouble. His ultimate weapon, crafted from the Mecha God's wreckage and rare materials, was immune to magma—but reconstruction would be a nightmare.

Lucius stepped back, tilting his head, his other hand twisting his neck.

"Who dares interrupt my fun? Do you not know you'll regret this?"

Aslan swung his spear, slicing the dust in two with a gust of wind.

"I don't want to get involved in your fight, but you're too close to my research site. Please keep your distance. Otherwise, I'll have no choice but to make you leave by force."

Melusine roared overhead in agreement, making both Lucius and Attila tense.

The silver spear was no ordinary weapon, and a dragon hadn't been seen on this continent in ages. Was this a hero recognized by dragons?

Lucius stared hard at Aslan, eyes widening.

"Your appearance... is like..."

Aslan shifted his stance, readying for battle. If Lucius discovered that his white moonlight, Estee Lauder, was a man, a fight was inevitable—whether out of anger or conquest.

"I see. You're Estee Lauder's brother, right? I've thoroughly investigated that lady's daughter, but no one named Estee Lauder exists. You're good at hiding. But even if you are her brother, I won't let you back down easily. You want us to clear out the way and settle this by force!"

...Close call…

Aslan looked at Lucius and couldn't help but find this stubborn, straightforward man oddly admirable. He was glad to finally draw a clear line between himself and Estee Lauder.

Turning back to Attila, the white-haired warrior silently raised her colorful sword.

"Bad civilization must be destroyed."

Aslan sighed deeply as his magic surged.

"I understand... Looks like we have no choice but to fight!"

-End Chapter-

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