Old Dog Had a Few Teeth Left

The sky gradually darkened over the grasslands.

Thunder rumbled louder, and a light rain began to fall.

The Animal Legion, mobilized for battle, marched through the rain.

Fox rode atop the White Horse, and both their coats were soaked by the rain. After his earlier research into the staff failed, Aleister had casually tossed it aside.

"Do you think we can win?"

The White Horse spoke up.

"What's wrong, bro?"

Aleister was blunt. "Are you depressed from all the pressure?"

"The pressure is indeed immense," the White Horse said in a deep voice. Its voice was clear and penetrating, making it feel like a Brave's. "But I won't surrender.

"Because I bear the hopes of the beasts. I absolutely cannot fall, and I absolutely cannot fail..."

"—But the moment you say that, it means you're already nervous."

The drenched Fox sneered.

The White Horse fell silent.

And Aleister finally confirmed it... This White Horse was not Arthur, the Silver Crowned Dragon.

Or rather, it was at least "not entirely" Arthur.

Although she had only met Arthur twice, Aleister could be certain that if it were Arthur, he would never hesitate at a time like this.

That cold-hearted, iron-willed man possessed the steel-like determination to endure every pain and torment. Until metal fatigue set in and he snapped completely, he would never show the slightest hesitation or indecision. If the White Horse had been modeled entirely after the Silver Crowned Dragon, then this silence and steadfastness should have been the focus of its portrayal.

It was precisely because of this incongruity that Aleister vaguely caught the key to this Promotion Ritual...

...Perhaps the White Horse did not represent the Silver Crowned Dragon.

There might be an even deeper secret.

This painting was adapted from Jacob's novel The White Horse King, which