In the world of Type-Moon, it all begins with becoming Morgan's husband!

"Stop your ravings, Voodoo!"

Artoria gripped Excalibur, pointing its sharpest point at him on the throne.

"It won't make your death any more noble."

Vortigern glanced at the sword in Artoria's hand and sneered.

"Ha, the holy sword borrowed from the lake?"

"If you think you can defeat me with something like that, you're underestimating me."

"What if that's the case?"

Lancelot gripped the Indestructible Aroundight, pointing its heavy, azure blade at Vortigern.

"You traitor to Britain, how dare you spout such nonsense?"

"Oh?"

"Another holy sword from the lake?" Vortigern straightened his posture.

"That's quite interesting."

"There are more than two."

Ian raised his Excalibur Galatine, completing the united front of the three holy swords of the lake.

"Votingen, can you still laugh after all this?"

"..."

Vortigern found that your voice seemed somewhat familiar.

He gazed at you for a long time.

Suddenly, he burst into laughter.

"Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!"

Vottigan's arrogant laughter rang out.

"It's really interesting!"

"You so-called Knights of the Round Table, how can you be so united at a time like this!"

Despite being advanced in years, Voodoo still possessed an arrogance that rivaled that of a young man.

He pulled his sword from the ground and became the attacker, charging directly at the three of them.

This is extraordinary bravery.

But Ian and the others were no longer newcomers to the battlefield.

Faced with the menacing Vortigern, none of the three showed any fear.

In contrast.

Everyone was ready to fight, just waiting for Vortigern to approach.

The outcome of the battle was obvious.

First, the stillness and tranquility created by the undamaged lake (Aroundight) enveloped the attacking king.

However, due to the influence of sunlight.

This state of affairs did not completely stop Vortigern's actions—his power was as great as the destruction he had brought upon Britain.

But it doesn't matter.

Because there is more than one holy sword in the lake.

Under the sunlight, the Excalibur Galatine achieves its maximum potential output.

Crimson flames burned in the realm of the moonlit lake, plunging Voodoo's aged body into the scorching heat of the sun.

The previous duel taught Ian and Lancelot how to cooperate effectively.

This is the combined force of the Knights of the Round Table—a realm where the sun and moon coexist, trapping the Lowly King.

Amidst the interplay of flames and lake light, a powerful raging storm swept in.

"Sleep in peace, Voodoo!"

Artoria plunged Excalibur into Vortigern's chest.

This is a combined strike from the three holy swords of the lake!

The ballad concludes with the wind that pierces through the sun and moon!

however--

The fatal scene did not occur.

Vortigern looked at the Excalibur piercing his heart and laughed wildly once more.

"Hahahahaha!"

"Artoria, I told you you couldn't kill me!"

"Your identity is borrowed."

"Your sword is borrowed."

"Your knight is borrowed."

Even your ideals are borrowed.

"You are nothing but a puppet to be manipulated, a pathetic and hateful knight."

"You, who possess only falsehoods, how dare you defeat me, who symbolizes the truth!"

At the moment Vortigern roared, a powerful force erupted from his body.

The three holy swords in the lake that were originally able to suppress him were shaken away in an instant.

Ian and Lancelot were thrown away by the shockwave from the sudden outburst.

Only Artoria remained standing, relying on her resilient body.

In this act of defiance, Vortigern also revealed his true, shocking nature.

What appeared to be a giant white dragon, as large as a mountain mist.

Its claws and teeth are sharp and full of vigor, radiating a surging magic at all times.

This is the body that the King of the Lowly was born from in mystery after years of lying low and searching.

The dragon's power is fully displayed at this moment.

That was exactly the image Merlin had predicted!

In comparison, Artoria, who stood before him in her human form, appeared rather petite.

"Ugh—!!!!"

The white dragon roared, and a fierce wind and flying stones surged up from the earth.

"Artoria!"

"You don't understand anything at all!"

"Everything you have is borrowed; it's simply not enough to sustain the Age of Gods!"

"Only I can do this!"

This was a repressive scene.

but--

Faced with the overwhelming pressure of the white dragon's arrogant words, Artoria did not retreat even a step.

She looked at the white dragon in front of her and suddenly laughed.

"Yes."

"I don't understand anything at all."

"After all, if I had understood all of this sooner, things probably wouldn't be like this now."

"The throne, the holy sword, the knight."

"Everything I have is indeed borrowed."

"But Vatican—"

Artoria raised her hand as if to grasp the entire sky.

"No one has ever said that a borrowed ideal cannot be called an ideal, right?"

"In that distant dream, I saw countless people laughing for this."

"That scenario is not wrong."

"not to mention--"

Artoria's eyes held a touch of girlish tenderness.

"Me right now."

"I've also developed my own ideals."

The Knight King's words resounded through the sky, shaking apart the white clouds in the heavens.

A golden, shimmering pillar of light emerged from it.

The Rhongomyniad, shining with the light of the final spear, descended upon the earth because of the king's resolve!

84. This time, he wanted to be the one to save her (4,000-word chapter)

Human understanding is very limited.

Everything must be based on feeling in order to make a judgment.

Because it has light and heat, we know it is fire;

Because of the coolness and the gentle breeze, I know it is the wind.