In this world, magical energy was like water. It flowed through every part of the body through the magic circuits.
There were several methods for a magus to transfer magic to another person, though the most efficient method… well, we should not discuss it for now.
But for the vampires, directly drawing blood from another was the simplest and fastest method.
If Alvin were a vampire, then to acquire Arcueid's magic, he would only need to lightly bite her neck and through the blood, her magic would flow into him.
However… Alvin was not a vampire. So, to obtain Arcueid's magic, he had to rely on other methods.
And the most efficient and straightforward method was only one…
.
.
.
Dim lights illuminated the grand, antique-style hall.
The supporting pillars bore vivid carvings, and a soft red carpet covered the floor.
At the far end stood a throne, and before it, a finely crafted redwood table.
The blonde True Ancestor, dressed in a white gown outlined with gold thread, leaned lazily against the throne, exuding a cold and aloof aura. Her beautiful eyes seemed to reflect the haughty and superior attitude of a queen looking down upon all living beings.
The strap on her right shoulder had slipped slightly, resting against her arm, her pale skin smooth as carved jade, dangerously alluring.
Before Alvin could respond, Arcueid had already taken the initiative.
She leaned down and bit lightly at the side of the boy's neck.
Her eyes narrowed in quiet delight almost instantly.
Sweet blood… or rather, magical energy so sweet it was intoxicating.
Even at the height of the Age of Gods, such dense and unique magical energy would have been impossible to find.
Alvin's body had always been unusual, and now, with his White Dragon core faintly linked to the Root, the magic within him was irresistible to any vampire.
Arcueid was no exception.
The moment she sensed that overwhelming magic flooding into her, her body trembled lightly. Her gaze toward Alvin was filled with surprise, and unmistakable delight.
She had known his magic was unique, but she hadn't expected it to be this addictive.
Compared to back in the Millennium City, this was far sweeter… overwhelmingly so.
Arcueid didn't stop. She continued drawing in Alvin's magic greedily.
Her fair, porcelain-like skin gradually grew warm, taking on a faint, healthy blush.
Alvin let out a helpless sigh.
"You're going to drain me dry at this rate… If you take much more, I won't even be able to get out of bed for two days."
Arcueid raised her snow-white chin arrogantly and glanced at the boy with disdain.
"It should be your honor to let me drink your blood. Even if others begged me for my First Embrace, I wouldn't bother granting it."
She wasn't lying.
Normally, a vampire could turn someone into one of their own, granting them the "First Embrace" — if they wished to during the act of drinking blood.
And the higher the rank of the vampire, especially a True Ancestor, the more extraordinary that First Embrace would be. It was like being born directly in paradise.
But…
"I'm not planning to become someone's First Embrace… and I can't become a vampire anyway, right?" Alvin replied.
The White Dragon was itself a mythical creature, and its inherent resistance to magecraft made it impossible for him to become a vampire.
In short… Arcueid really was taking advantage of him for free.
Arcueid clearly knew this as well.
As her cold and beautiful face suddenly revealed a charming smile, carrying a seductive and bewitching allure, she pinched the other shoulder strap with her fingertips and gave it a light tug, revealing her white valley to her man.
"What's the matter of taking advantage between a wife and her husband. After all, what's yours is mine and ..."
As the young man's eyes widened, looking at the irresistible scene in front of him, the woman had already reached out and forcefully pulled him into her embrace.
The strength was so great that Alvin's face didn't even have time to feel the softness of her body before he felt a moment of suffocation.
"Don't worry, I won't take advantage of you for free… I told you earlier, as repayment, I will also give you my mana."
Arcueid's enticing red lips curved into an extremely beautiful arc, carrying a hint of seduction. "Of course, how much you can take… depends on you."
…
That evening.
Alvin held his waist and limped out of the hall of Millennial City.
The sun was already setting.
He lifted his head and felt the evening breeze and the slight chill blowing against him, finally clearing up his mind a little.
"It's really not my fault that my willpower wasn't strong enough.
If anyone is to blame, it's Arcueid for being too tempting…"
Thinking back to everything that had just happened in the hall, Alvin couldn't help but sigh again.
He didn't know if it was because the Moon King's mana was too special, or simply because the mana of the blood race itself was unique, but this time, when Alvin absorbed Arcueid's mana, he felt an indescribable sense of intoxication.
It was different from the previous times.
That cold and sweet mana was just like tasting a cup of chilled sweet milk.
At this moment, Alvin could feel that the White Dragon Reactor in his chest was storing the mana of the True Ancestor, and that this mana had already condensed into a drop of essence.
The Moon King, Arcueid's mana.
[You have received the Moon King's Gift. Congratulations, host, for completing the special CG: Moon King's Nourishment]
[Special achievement obtained: Reality Marble (Gold)]
[Reality Marble: An ability possessed by the spirits of nature who act as the world's senses, allowing one's consciousness to connect directly to the world and reshape it into an environment that matches one's imagination.]
Alvin's eyes lit up.
He didn't even have time to complain about the CG achievement text before he was immediately drawn to the reward.
Reality Marble… if he remembered correctly, it was one of Arcueid's strongest authorities.
And its effect was actually somewhat similar to the "inner world" of certain Servants.
To put it more directly, it allowed one to unfold their own domain, and the environment inside that domain was shaped by one's imagination.
It could be the entire city of Camelot, it could be Millennial City, or even something like Iskandar's "Ionioi Hetairoi."
'I wonder… what will my Reality Marble look like?'
Thinking that, Alvin couldn't help feeling a bit expectant.
...
Night.
Arcueid slowly opened her eyes before the throne, silently staring into the darkness of the hall.
Within that darkness, a maid who had received her first embrace quietly approached and bowed respectfully.
"Lord White Dragon returned to the palace of Britain not long ago. Also, according to the transmigrators in the palace, Lancelot seems to have been injured recently."
Arcueid narrowed her beautiful eyes.
Sitting with her legs crossed, a knowing smile appeared on her face.
"I was wondering why he cared so much about information regarding the Celestial Vanguard… so it's because the chief knight of the Round Table was injured?"
Because Attila's existence posed a potential threat to all of Britain, he was deliberately gathering information… he truly does love this land.
Or… does he love those two sisters of Britain?
At that thought, something twisted faintly in Arcueid's heart.
"Should we send someone to help secretly? If Lord White Dragon is alone…" the maid asked cautiously.
"Why would we help?"
Arcueid replied calmly.
"Even if the sky collapses, Britain has nothing to do with us… besides, I'm not the one who makes all the decisions in Millennial City."
There were multiple True Ancestors in Millennial City, and to them, Arcueid was simply a "weapon of force."
However, because Arcueid's strength far surpassed the other True Ancestors, none of them dared provoke her even though she had slept for ages.
But if Arcueid truly used all of Millennial City's influence to help Alvin, those True Ancestors would certainly not remain still.
Of course, if Arcueid insisted… no one in Millennial City could stop her.
But due to the "Correction," she did not wish to leave Millennial City if she could avoid it.
Arcueid looked toward the direction of the Hunnic Empire and let out a light, cheerful laugh.
"We'll just wait and see."
...
....
The Royal Palace.
After returning to the palace, Alvin first went to see Artoria and explained the connection between "Attila" and the "Meteor Vanguard."
A destroyer of civilizations, a dangerous existence from beyond the stars…
When she heard those words, Artoria's expression gradually turned serious, and she immediately convened a Round Table meeting.
Aside from the injured Lancelot, Gawain, Agravain, and Tristan were also absent.
The first two were assisting the Clock Tower's upper echelon, since they had all been working hard to deal with the plant decay caused by the end of the Age of Gods.
As for Tristan, he was investigating the matter of the crashed ship and was not presently in the palace.
Twelve Knights of the Round Table — and four were missing.
Meanwhile, Galahad, Gareth, and Mordred were still too young and lacked the ability to properly judge the larger situation, which made them nearly useless in a meeting like this.
On the surface, Britain looked overwhelmingly strong, but in reality, they were dealing with a shortage of manpower everywhere.
'If not for my return, Lily would really be struggling…' Alvin thought to himself.
But he actually had nothing useful to contribute at the meeting, so instead of staying in the King's Hall, he went alone to the palace training grounds.
Right now, strengthening himself was more practical than sitting through a discussion.
Before his eyes, the system window showed the description of the authority: [Imaginary Manifestation].
"What exactly should my inner world look like once manifested…?"
He began quietly thinking.
Normally, most Heroic Spirits shaped their Reality Marbles based on their experiences from life.
But Alvin had no "past life" at all.
In essence, Imaginary Manifestation allowed him to create a special domain purely based on imagination... it didn't have to be tied to any past experience.
So he needed to think carefully.
What kind of inner world should he build…?
As he was considering all this, he suddenly sensed something and instinctively turned his head.
A purple-haired woman with a stunning figure wrapped in a form-fitting bodysuit was sitting on the steps nearby, resting her chin in her hand as she quietly watched him.
"Scáthach…?"
The moment he saw the full, shapely curve of her chest outlined by the bodysuit, Alvin immediately recognized her.
He blinked in surprise, then raised his hand and smiled in greeting:
"You're still in the palace?"
"Of course. You still haven't fought me. I've been waiting for you."
A mature smile appeared on the woman's face.
Scáthach — the Queen of the Land of Shadows, the immortal warrior who could not die, forever seeking strong opponents while yearning for death itself.
After sensing the disturbance from the Radiant Tower earlier, she had fixed her interest squarely on Alvin.
Scáthach's smile faded a little.
Her beautiful eyes locked onto him, and she slowly said:
"Do you dare accept my challenge as a warrior, White Dragon of Britain?"
She originally expected Alvin to hesitate, or at least be excited by a challenge.
But instead, he looked confused and asked.
"What's the bet?"
"...A bet?"
Scáthach froze for a moment, never expecting the legendary White Dragon to ask this question.
Then she showed a charming smile.
"Does a battle between warriors require a wager?"
Alvin rejected her instantly:
"Then I'm not fighting."
Scáthach was stunned, watching as Alvin literally turned around and began walking away from the training grounds.
"Stop right there!"
Scáthach called out, trying to stop Alvin.
However, the boy still didn't stop walking.
Only when he was about to leave the training grounds did the woman finally panic, snapping angrily.
"Fine, then let's bet."
She lifted a hand to her chest and said,
"If I lose, I'll grant you any request… even if it's asking me to die — assuming you can kill me."
As she finished speaking, she looked at him.
"An 'enemy' who can slip into the palace at any time… that must trouble you, right?"
Only then did Alvin finally stop.
His handsome, boy-next-door face showed a warm smile.
"If I win, I don't want your life… but I do have another condition."
Under Scáthach's confused gaze, Alvin continued. "Recently, the number of transmigrators has increased a lot, and Britain is facing crisis after crisis… I keep feeling like there aren't enough people."
"Miss Scáthach… I can agree to fight you, but if you lose, I want you to become a member of the Round Table Knights."
He paused, then added.
"In my opinion, there are many things far scarier than death… I think you understand that better than anyone."
Scáthach remained silent.
As someone cursed to never age or die, she did not fear death.
In fact, she longed for it. So of course, she deeply understood what Alvin meant.
Lose… and then serve Britain?
At that moment, Alvin suddenly looked up and smiled. "Are you afraid you'll lose to me?"
For an instant, Alvin felt a powerful surge of fighting spirit wash over him.
Scáthach lifted her eyes, her voice turning cold. "Your provocation is a bit too obvious… but it worked."
As the Queen of the Land of Shadows, she had challenged countless powerful beings, and without exception, she defeated every one of them.
How could she possibly fear a mere White Dragon?
A crimson long spear bloomed like a rose in her hand.
Alvin watched her quietly, not moving at all.
Scáthach blinked in surprise, then let out an amused smile:
"So you really underestimated me."
In the next moment, a violent killing intent burst from her gaze.
"White Dragon, you'll pay for your arrogance!"
Her figure vanished instantly.
With a sharp sound, she leapt high into the air and lunged down toward Alvin, thrusting the Deaththorn Spear straight at him.
Alvin still stood there, unmoving, until he slowly raised his head, took a deep breath and spoke clearly.
"Imaginary Manifestation."
In an instant, the scenery of the training grounds quietly dissolved, replaced by the world born from his imagination…
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