The silver meteor that shot up from North Wales tore across Britain's sky at breakneck speed.
Kay, firmly bound to Medusa's back, glared with a cold, weighty anger he'd never shown before.
When Pegasus ripped through the clouds and began to descend, the grand capital of Logres came into view beyond the horizon—the yet-to-be-completed, dazzling ivory walls.
Camelot, the holy city, unveiled its majestic might.
"There it is, Master."
Medusa said, gripping the reins.
"Good. There's no time for a detour. Head straight for the center of the fortress—to the tallest tower where Artoria must be—"
Just as Kay was about to issue the command—
Kuaaaaang!!!!
From the highest spire of Camelot, a massive blade of flame pierced the sky and lanced toward Pegasus.
It was a fierce strike, brimming with the hostility of someone intent on burning everything that dared approach the heavens.
"Guhk…!"
Instinctively, Medusa yanked on the reins. Pegasus twisted in midair and barely avoided the fiery arc, but even the passing heat was enough to singe Kay's hair.
"…It wasn't a turret; that was a slashing blow. Someone swung a sword to send it flying. They can't have troops stationed up there all the time—must be a knight Merlin placed here."
Kay frowned as he peered downward. The blast had spooked Camelot's soldiers, and they were now all aiming their spears and bows skyward in high alert.
"Master, what should we do? If we press on now—"
"No. If we get intercepted midair, it'll be a hassle. Medusa, wheel us toward that thickest section of the outer wall over there!"
"The wall? You want to go over it?"
"No. Crash right through."
A cold smile spread across Medusa's lips at Kay's crude yet tough command.
"Order received. Brace for impact, Master."
Hihihiing~!!!
Pegasus veered and plunged at top speed toward Camelot's dazzling ivory wall.
With [True Name Release] activated, the New-Age Chimera's mass and speed as it charged were nothing less than a living meteor.
Kwaaaaang!!!!!!
At the moment Pegasus collided head-on with the wall, the impact was accompanied by a deafening roar of magical energy and a massive azure explosion.
"Ambush!!"
"The wall—it's collapsing!!"
Chunks of the outer wall shattered like paper and collapsed. Amid the swirling dust and rubble, Pegasus's luminous form dispersed as it withdrew.
And from the center of the wreckage, Kay stepped forward, golden axe in hand, and Medusa, chain nails draped at her side.
"Stand down!! How dare you breach the walls of Camelot! Drop your weapons and surrender at once!"
Inside the broken wall, dozens of heavily armored Logres soldiers leveled their spears and blocked their path.
Medusa waited silently for Kay's next command, and Kay readjusted his grip on his axe. He took no pleasure in having to beat down the soldiers his little sisters had raised.
"Medusa. Don't kill if you can help it. Knock them unconscious and break through."
Kay was about to spring forward when—
"Soldiers, stand down and unarm!"
From behind their ranks, a knight in battered but sturdy silver breastplate rushed forward and shouted.
His face was covered in scars, the very picture of a battle-hardened hero.
He blocked Kay's path and, eyes wide in disbelief, stared at him.
"You… are you really Sir Kay?"
Kay's eyes widened. A sense of déjà vu—there was something deeply familiar about this knight's face.
"Wait… you aren't one of the soldiers from Sir Bedivere's mercenary band five years ago? The one who cried tears and snot over my stew and even helped wash the dishes?"
"So you remember."
The knight's eyes reddened in an instant. He fell to his knees and bowed deeply to Kay.
"Wh-what are you doing? Those two have just shattered the wall! We should arrest them…!"
"Quiet!! Can't you lower your weapons when I ask?!"
The knight turned to his soldiers and roared like a lion.
"Is there anyone here of higher rank than me!? Lower your weapons at once!"
At his fierce command, the soldiers hesitated, glanced at each other, and slowly lowered their spear tips.
"Sir Kay… you're alive. You've returned."
The knight wiped his tears and pleaded earnestly.
"Please… please… save the king! The king is not well. Only you can save him!"
"...I came here to do just that. Thanks for clearing the way."
Kay tapped the knight's shoulder and, with Medusa, began racing toward the inner keep.
The soldiers watched their retreating backs in bewilderment, and one asked his commanding officer,
"Are we really supposed to let those two go? No matter how you look at it…"
"He is the one…" The knight clenched his fist as he watched the dust they left behind.
"He is our only hope to put right the king who is falling apart. He is also the hope of Britain. Few comrades from those days remain. I never imagined I'd see him return before I die. Now I have no regrets. Please, Sir Kay…"
But breaching the outer wall did not open every path.
Alarm bells rang out as hundreds of guard knights and soldiers, summoned by the warning, formed layered rings around the wide central plaza leading to the inner keep.
"Halt!! Shoot the intruders!"
"This doesn't look like a crowd that will respond to reason like earlier."
Arrows rained from all sides as a cavalry charge thundered in.
Medusa readied her blindfold removal and crossed her chain nails.
But Kay stopped her, raising his right hand. There, the seal of the Overlord of the Abyssal Realm was revealed.
Kay unleashed the power of the Overlord of the Abyssal Realm.
"Come!"
Paaaaaaaah!!!!
In the center of the plaza, a blindingly massive cherry-blossom-colored magic circle unfolded.
Summoned were Jeanne d'Arc Alter, Tamamo, and Bagest.
Tamamo scattered blue flames of sorcery, backing up Caster's teleportation [Magecraft]. And from the pillar of light emerged the overwhelming forces destined to shake Britain, each revealing their majestic forms.
Artoria Lancer, King of North Wales, hoisted [Rhongomyniad].
Artoria Alter, the tyrant, had [Excalibur Morgan] slung over her shoulder.
Artoria Lancer Alter gripped a pitch-black holy spear.
Heroines Artoria X and Artoria X Alter, clad in a powered suit, brandished dual swords.
Lily, her tear-streaked face still wet, clutched [Caliburn].
And Caster leaned on her staff with an impish grin.
The soldiers arrayed in the plaza turned ashen, on the verge of dropping their weapons at the sight of such an overwhelming and terrifying lineup.
"Artoria X Alter, what of Mordred?"
"I've left her in the care of Sir Calogrenant of North Wales, along with provisions of milk. Do not worry."
"Good."
Kay raised his golden axe and shouted,
"Do not kill them unless absolutely necessary. Break their weapons and dent their armor to neutralize them."
"Orders understood!!"
The shouts of the sisters and Servants reverberated through Camelot's plaza. A violent path-clearing began, with bursts of light and black flame, holy spears and lightning raining down.
Kay seized the opening they created and charged toward the main gate like a feral beast.
At that moment, in the king's inner chamber at the very top of the castle, oblivious to the chaos below,
"Huu…."
Thick, acrid smoke filled the room.
Artoria Pendragon, the great King of Prophecy and savior of Britain, sat slumped in her ornate throne, her gaze empty and unfocused.
Between her pale, parched fingers, a burning herb exuded a sharp medicinal scent as it smoldered, filling the air with smoke.
"…cough."
Despite coughing as if her lungs were on fire, she drew the acrid smoke deeply into her lungs once more.
The instant the fumes numbed her mind, the horrors of battle against the Saxons, the despair over her traitorous siblings, and the bone-shattering agony of losing Kay all blurred and momentarily faded.
At her feet lay small vials of white powder.
It was Osekisan, a deadly poison powdered from an Eastern pharmacopeia said to induce extreme awakening.
"My head… hurts so much… my chest… feels like it's tearing…"
All of it was medicine Merlin had provided.
It was prescribed to make her forget the kingly anguish, insomnia, and loss of appetite she had to bear.
Being a dragon, her body would not be destroyed by such a concoction—only her mind would change.
Under the drug's influence, Artoria's vision warped grotesquely. In her hallucinations, she found happiness.
"Hehe… hehehe… ah, ahhh…."
Perfectly broken, the King of Prophecy.
Twisted pain was thus banished. Public and private were strictly separated.
When public duties called, she excluded all emotion and moved as an ideal, perfect king—a puppet.
That alone she was to fulfill.
Merlin was simply following the contract he had with his sworn brother, King Uther.
What Britain needed was a device called the perfect and ideal king.
Human lives were not necessary—they were destined to perish anyway.
And even if the king broke, it did not matter.
There were seven more in reserve. They had been kept alive from birth, anticipating a complex succession.
For the greater good, the individual named Artoria did not matter.
That was the way of the Pendragons.
Morgan, too, sought to mold her own offspring into a royal mechanism to seize power.
Historically, this was the Pendragons' way: a cursed, mystical house, erasing personal identity and existing solely for the cause of Britain.