The next day, Sovell and his two companions bid farewell to Bedivere. Sovell agreed with Bedivere that when King Uther's Crown Prince returned, the two of them would pledge their allegiance to him together.
"Oh, Sir Bedivere-
Only eat the jerky I gave you as emergency rations when you've exhausted your stamina or magical energy.
Remember that. Don't forget."
Those were Sovell's instructions on how to eat the bag of bear jerky he gave Bedivere before leaving.
But our good Sir Bedivere was already a big boy with a mature mind.
Not only did Sovell's warning fail to dissuade Bedivere, it stirred his rebellious streak and made him even more curious about the jerky's effects.
So, as soon as Sovell's party of three and their horse disappeared from view, Bedivere tore off a strip of jerky and popped it into his mouth.
Hmm... a little tough to chew.
Pretty tasty, though. But why does my nose feel a little wet...?
Leaving aside Bedivere's panic over his nosebleed, Sovell's party continued southeast with their horse.
When night fell, they fed Joanie some fodder and pitched their tent. Inside, the three took turns changing out of their bloodstained underclothes and into their spare everyday clothes.
The armor Sovell and Artoria wore was a product of Merlin's magecraft. It was exceptionally light, repelled filth, and could become immaterial with the flow of its wearer's magical energy. Their underclothes, however, still got stained with blood and dust.
They washed the dirt from their clothes and bodies in the river, set up a drying rack, and hung their wet clothes on it.
Sovell released Invisible Air to form a barrier, protecting the three of them and their horse while helping their clothes dry faster.
Artoria also released a glimmer of starlight from the Golden Sword of Certain Victory to ignite the firewood they had gathered in the woods.
One pile stood beside the drying rack, while the other was near the tent to provide light and keep wild beasts away.
The heat of the fires would frighten wild beasts and make them uneasy.
Their fierce light would also interfere with the beasts' vision and expose their forms in the darkness, putting them on alert.
As for demon beasts endowed with mystical power, the starlight of the Golden Sword of Certain Victory would intimidate them as well, keeping them from approaching.
This was the so-called "mystery subordination theory"-
Lesser mysteries would submit to greater ones.
The mysteries within beasts merely infused with magical energy and mixed-blood beasts descended from phantasmal species would be overwhelmed by the mystery of the Golden Sword of Certain Victory. Naturally, they dared not approach.
The night passed without incident.
The next day, the three set out again.
They gradually drew closer to Cornwall in the Demonia Region. Along the way, they encountered several groups of roaming foreign soldiers and killed them all without exception.
Occasionally, they also led local people in attacks on nearby foreign military camps, rescuing hundreds of civilians who had been abducted.
The names of the three gradually spread among the people of England.
Artoria, for instance, became known as "the lily-like knight princess";
Sovell as "the White Shadow Knight, swift as a storm";
And Kay as "the king of swimming, like a swordfish."
All right, scratch that last one for now.
In short, the three truly had become famous throughout Britain.
But the way they had gained that fame brought them trouble, especially Sovell.
His attire stood out the most. The pure white and silver of his robe and armor made him distinctly brighter than his two companions as they walked side by side.
The spies sent by the various kings could easily find him from that description. Nor could Sovell simply tell them to leave, since doing so might cause unnecessary trouble.
But today, Sovell saw the person he had most wanted-and least wanted-to see in the eight years since leaving Vortigern's Royal Court...
"Father...?"
"Your father?!!"
Indeed.
The tall old man in pitch-black armor standing before the three was none other than the "King of the Wicked" whose name passed from mouth to mouth among Britain's people-
Vortigern Pendragon!
"My child, my dear Sovell, enough of this nonsense. Come home with your father."
Vortigern spoke those words with no one at his side.
Within the range of Sovell's senses, there was no one nearby except Kay, Lia, and his father before him.
Clearly, Vortigern had ridden here alone.
Sovell noticed that in the eight years since he had left, his father's hair had turned completely gray, and countless new furrows had appeared on his forehead and cheeks.
For an instant, Sovell naturally hesitated. This was, after all, the father who had raised him, whom he had not seen for eight years.
But then he recalled that blood-soaked valley eight years ago, and the misery of the people living beneath the hooves of foreign cavalry.
His hesitation vanished, and he refused at once:
"I won't go back, Father.
This isn't some childish decision made to defy you.
In the future, I will support the Red Dragon...
To save this country!
To protect the people of this land!
To defeat you, who have now become a White Dragon, just like me!"
Strictly speaking, Sovell's impression of Vortigern still dated back eight years. Calling the Vortigern of that time a "White Dragon" would have been inappropriate.
Vortigern had previously been called the "White Dragon" because of the legend of the White Dragon opposing the Red Dragon in Merlin's prophecy decades earlier.
In that prophecy, Merlin had called the Red Dragon the "King of Radiance," so the opposing White Dragon naturally became the "King of the Wicked."
The unjust war between the brothers Vortigern and King Uther, along with Vortigern's despicable acts of collusion with foreign peoples, had led the people of Britain to bestow the names "White Dragon" and "King of the Wicked" upon him without dispute.
Thus, calling Vortigern the White Dragon back then had naturally been symbolic-a false symbol used as a derogatory name.
Now, however, Sovell could clearly sense that the aura emanating from his father was no different from his own dragon kind aura!
It was not the resonance he felt with Artoria, born of their bloodlines sharing the same source. Instead, they truly overlapped, like a palpitation of the heart!
He had no idea how his father, a pure primate-a human-had acquired the aura of the White Dragon.
But clearly, like Sovell himself, Vortigern had truly gained the right to become one of the highest-ranking legendary phantasmal species, a [divine beast]-
The "White Dragon" of Britain!
Vortigern's White Dragon aura was extraordinarily powerful, far beyond Sovell's current reach.
Judging by the standards of phantasmal species' auras, Vortigern's present power had undoubtedly reached the level of a mature divine beast-class phantasmal species, and even surpassed that of a standard mature form!
Returning to the matter at hand, when Vortigern heard his child's refusal to come home, his face showed no sign of fury. Instead, he smiled with deep satisfaction:
"Protect this country... protect the people of this land... defeat me, the White Dragon...
Hahahaha! Sovell, my child, you truly have grown up in these eight years apart from your father."
After his delight-or at least what looked like delight-Vortigern spoke again in a casual tone:
"But, my child, doing this really will cause your father a great deal of trouble."
Tch. This isn't looking good.
Hearing Vortigern's words, Sovell naturally understood that his father was about to resort to force.
He immediately spoke in a low voice to the girl behind him:
"Lia, take Kay, Joanie, and Barghest and go. Head for Saynor Manor as fast as you can!
Father doesn't know who you are. He's here for me!"
After all, if he alone were captured and taken back to the Royal Court, that could still be managed. But if Lia were captured too...
Then the moment his father saw the Sword of Selection in Lia's hands, all of Britain would truly be finished!
Artoria understood this as well, of course. But she could not simply abandon Sovell in danger, so she asked him quietly:
"I can leave. But what about you?"
"I'll be fine. Father's a White Dragon, but so am I, aren't I? Besides, you still have that thing with you, don't you? Give it to me for now."
"That thing? All right."
At that, Artoria understood what Sovell meant. She took a tiny object from inside her clothes and handed it to him.
"Come back soon, Sovell. Stay safe!"
"Don't worry. I'll definitely come back. I won't leave you to shoulder all of Britain on your own, Lia."
Sovell handed the Barghest in his arms to Artoria, then took her hand.
By then, tears were already welling in Artoria's eyes. Feigning anger, she said:
"Of course you won't. If you really leave me all alone, I won't let you off even if you hide in Avalon!"
After those final words, Artoria reached out and embraced Sovell.
A moment later, Artoria released him, and Sovell kissed a tear from her cheek.
Then he turned, drew Rhongomyniad from his waist, and drove the magical energy he had stored over the past several days to its fullest.
The flower Merlin had given him was blown away by the fierce wind, revealing his white hair and silver eyes to everyone once more.
His hands became dragon claws, white dragon scales emerged across his body, and two horns sprouted from his head as he faced Vortigern.
"My dear child, have you finished talking to your little sweetheart?"
Faced with his father's teasing, Sovell mustered what remained of his smile and replied:
"Of course. Since she's your own child's beloved, you'll let her go, won't you, Father?"
Before you continue