Knights—especially the Knights of the Round Table—could never stand alongside dragons.
Because that would negate the shared sacrifices of every Knight of the Round Table. It would be to throw Britain's most fundamental hope onto the ground and trample it without mercy.
Anno's presence sank.
He lowered his head, shadows covering his face.
At that moment, Anno was terrifying.
He broke into a sprint, charging toward the group of knights riding dragons.
He wanted to demand why knights would stand beside dragons. Why would they trample history and their own dignity—?
Like an arrow released from its bow, he left a long afterimage across the wasteland as he rapidly closed in on the dragon-riding knights in the sky.
The knights seemed to notice something rapidly approaching them. They each drew their weapons, but did not rush to descend from the sky.
"—This Spirit Origin reaction is unregistered. Classified as hostile. Commence attack immediately."
Among the knights, the leader holding a knight's lance spoke in a voice as mechanical as a machine.
He pointed his lance forward, gripping the reins fastened to the wyvern's head with his other hand. Together with the wyvern, he charged toward the ground—toward Anno.
Charging had always been the main rhythm of knightly legion warfare. Sword battles were something the Knights of the Round Table, as commanders, needed to consider.
The other knights in the formation likewise leveled their lances and dove toward the ground, toward Anno.
Watching the knights attack him without the slightest hesitation, Anno's already furious and sorrowful heart plunged even deeper into the abyss.
Knights had always acted according to virtue. Yet now, not only did they keep company with dragons, but their first reaction upon seeing a stranger was to form a charging formation and attack him?
"Disgrace—!!!"
Anno roared, and