Through meditation, the Lion King had been watching Shiomi's battle the entire time—from night to day, then from day back to night.
A full day and night had passed.
Neither Shiomi nor the Usurper King was aware of this, let alone that the Lion King had been standing silently on the battlefield, observing the fight as it edged toward its bleak end.
This was both the Lion King's recollection and the reality she had shaped.
The battle Tenkei Shiomi now faced was against an enemy she had once confronted as King Arthur.
Though he had seemingly defeated Mordred and Lucius with ease, Vortigern, as the embodiment of the Isle of Britain itself, possessed strength far beyond either of them.
Even on this recreated battlefield, the Lion King would have to face him with caution.
She slowly approached Shiomi, who was unable to stand, a storm gathering in her hand.
He had no weapon—so she would grant him the right to wield Rhongomyniad.
The Lion King found this to be a reasonable judgment and prepared to act.
But just as she moved to summon the Holy Lance, the motion halted abruptly. Like Shiomi, she noticed the wand, now slowly glowing brighter.
Startled, Shiomi began to realize a chilling truth.
Cú Chulainn, who had appeared at Singularity F and handed him the wand, had undoubtedly been guided by Odin.
According to legend, Odin hung himself upside down on the World Tree, sacrificing himself for nine days and nine nights. In doing so, he lost one eye but gained supreme wisdom. The remaining eye granted him the power to see across countless dimensions.
What had Odin, existing beyond the bounds of the world, seen with that eye that compelled him to entrust "this weapon" to Shiomi?
Was it truly acceptable to let a mere mortal wield a divine weapon?
Just like Artoria, who had been entrusted with the divine sword forged by the gods?
Just like every Heroic Spirit who bore a Divine Construct?
This so-called magic wand wasn't some top-tier Mystic Code made from the branches of the World Tree—it was a spear. A weapon perfectly suited to Shiomi's combat style.
Gungnir—[Declaration of the Great God].
The primordial prototype, even preceding the red spear his master once wielded.
The wand was merely a disguise. Odin had cloaked his spear in illusion, presenting it as a wand until the moment it was needed.
Only in a critical instant would it reveal its true form.
Shiomi no longer had the strength to wonder why Gungnir had chosen this moment to awaken.
But one thing was clear—it was now a flawless weapon.
The Lion King ceased her attempt to summon the Holy Lance and returned to quietly observing. Yet deep within those emotionless, gem-like eyes, a flicker of change briefly appeared.
This battlefield no longer required her mercy or intervention.
Shiomi gripped the now golden, radiant Gungnir and slowly rose to his feet.
On the darkened battlefield, amidst the storm, a sudden burst of light made Vortigern feel something he had long forgotten—fear.
The white dragon thrashed and roared, struggling to break free from the mana sealed by the crimson spear.
But it was already too late.
Gungnir is the Spear of Destiny—once thrown, it never misses and can pierce through anything.
"This is the strike that proclaims fate, delivering predestined death to all things in existence." Shiomi raised the spear of light without hesitation, aiming straight at Vortigern's heart. "Perish here! Gungnir!"
As its True Name was unleashed, there was no need to throw it or exert strength. The spear of light shot from Shiomi's hand with unstoppable force, piercing straight through Vortigern's body and the white dragon's heart.
The roar ceased instantly.
The massive body, as large as a fortress, collapsed with a thunderous crash in the pouring rain. The white dragon slowly faded away.
Shiomi walked across the scarred battlefield and approached the place where Vortigern had fallen.
There was no white dragon anymore—only a man impaled through the chest and palms by two red spears, with a spear of light lodged in his heart.
The man was kneeling, breathless.
Shiomi stared silently at the Usurper King, recalling the legends surrounding Vortigern.
His death marked the end of Britannia's civil strife.
After that came King Arthur's campaign against Rome—a ten-year journey that ended at last, with his fall alongside the rebellious knights at Camlann's twilight.
"You really made me relive your past battles in reverse... quite the elaborate touch," Shiomi murmured.
The battlefield remained unchanged. Whether it had been punishment or trial, this seemed to be the conclusion.
Shiomi raised his hand. The three spears vanished. With nothing left supporting him, the Usurper King collapsed, his body slowly swallowed by the muddy earth.
Shiomi lifted his gaze toward the sky and began to fall, never realizing the Lion King had come to his side.
She reached out to wipe the blood from his face, then gently lifted him into her arms.
The dim battlefield vanished in an instant, replaced by the royal palace of Camelot.
From the throne to this place—the Lion King had simply returned.
Not a trace of rain or mud stained her pure white form. Only the wounds on her body attested to what had just occurred, proving it hadn't been a dream.
She looked down at Shiomi, battered from a full day and night of fierce battle, and slowly made her way toward the inner sanctum.
"Well done. With that, I suppose I can hear what you have to say."
Whether Shiomi could hear her or not didn't matter. With those words, the Lion King disappeared into the gate, ignoring Agravain, who had approached to report but ended up saying nothing.
Behind him were Tristan and Gawain, who had come with him.
"The King is resting. Report tomorrow," Agravain said plainly as he turned back to them.
Gawain, watching the King depart, offered no objection. "Understood."
"Sir Agravain, you don't look too well," Tristan said quietly, having noticed something off. "Did something... saddening happen?"
"No, it's nothing. Probably just my imagination," Agravain replied. "The King has cast aside human emotions—there's no way such a trivial mistake could occur."
"What do you mean by that?" Gawain asked, his tone serious.
Agravain hesitated. He knew that saying it aloud would be a grave accusation against the King—an act of deep disloyalty.
But for the sake of the King's plan, he ultimately decided to share his suspicion with Gawain and Tristan.
"The King is a woman," he said.
"We're all aware of that by now," Gawain replied, feeling the comment was unnecessary.
As Agravain walked out of the hall, he added:
"That's why I'm worried. The King might have been swayed by that man."
At those words, both Gawain and Tristan fell silent, each understanding the sensitivity of what had been said.
Even if they tried to advise the King directly, she would only deny it.
...
(100 Chapters Ahead)
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