"Whoa... now that's a sight."
Sovell had spread his dragon wings and was hovering about half a meter above the ground.
His eyes were fixed on the enormous white dragon that had revealed its true form.
Although fear made his voice tremble slightly, his grip on the golden sword never loosened.
Gawain, on the other side, was not faring much better. He slowly moved to Artoria's side.
His breathing was ragged and his limbs weak. With the sunlight blocked out, the golden-red hue had faded from his hair.
Of the three, only Artoria could be considered unaffected.
Perhaps it was because the Red Dragon bloodline shared an origin with the White Dragon's, yet opposed it.
Thus, even though Artoria would still be a juvenile by dragon-kind standards, she was not suppressed by the mature White Dragon to the same extent as Sovell.
"Can you still stand, Sir Sovell, Sir Gawain?"
Artoria raised an eyebrow and asked the two beside her.
Hearing this, Gawain drew a deep breath, clenched his fists, and straightened again.
"Whew... yes!"
On the other side, Sovell sighed and answered Artoria's provocation.
"If Sir Gawain insists on being so stubborn, what more need I say?"
All three raised their swords together and looked up at the immense figure blotting out the sky.
"Why do you resist? Why do you reject it? Why do you call yourselves human?"
"Britain must be destroyed. You must perish."
"If this island is to be defiled by humans reduced to mere mortals, then I shall return it to its primordial state with my own hands."
"-I shall turn great Britain into hell.
A dark paradise where humanity shall never again be able to dwell!"
The dragon's roar resounded through the heavens. The overwhelming pressure spilling down from