"A pact."
It was a profoundly sacred word.
Gods had made pacts with humanity, not just once but many times.
In the dawn of creation, when humans still dwelled in Eden, God forged the first covenant, granting them stewardship over the earth, access to its resources, and a set of prohibitions to uphold.
Later, during the great flood that nearly ended the world, God made a new covenant with Noah and his family, marking the dawn of a new era and humanity's prosperity.
Centuries passed, and the final deity to forge a covenant with humanity was the Messiah, bearer of salvation. On the hill of Golgotha in Jerusalem, he sealed a new pact with his disciples, surpassing all prior covenants and ensuring the salvation and eternal welfare of the faithful.
That was the origin of the Holy Church.
As a knight, Artoria was well-versed in these sacred oaths. Yet, she never imagined that one day, she would become a "saint" forging a covenant with a divine being.
Or rather, no one could have foreseen that in this twilight of the Age of Gods, a deity would still emerge to make a pact with a human.
"That's why I said before: at the most unlikely moment for miracles, the most impossible miracle has occurred!" Exclaimed the magusstanding nearby, marveling at the whims of fate.
One was a king born in the end times, destined to be the final monarch.
The other was a god who shouldn't exist in this era, with no room left to grow.
If these two great beings had developed independently, their fates were predictable... buried alongside the fading Age of Gods.
But now, these two were bound together.
With a god's backing, the king's power was no longer a rootless reed in the tide. With the king's support, the god's radiance was no longer a fleeting illusion. The king, bolstered by the god, could build an unshakable kingdom; the god, through the king, could extend its will into the mortal world.
They complemented each other perfectly.
"And so, I make a pact with you... an eternal pact." declared Alaric.
"Artoria Pendragon."
"As long as you remain the king of this land, as long as you are willing to be its king, I will uphold your ideal kingdom. I vow that within that noble realm, the devastation of the end times will never come."
His resonant voice landed like a mountain.
Not only Artoria but everyone present heard the oath and felt the immense power it carried in the next moment.
"This… this is…"
Feeling a sudden surge of strength within him, Kay's Lilliputian stared in disbelief.
In that instant, his power had more than doubled.
What was happening? Had he suddenly grown stronger?
"No, that's not it."
After carefully sensing the changes in the environment, Kay pinpointed the cause.
The concentration of aether in the air had surged dramatically.
The mysteries that should have vanished with the end of the Age of Gods had returned to this land, reaching levels reminiscent of the age's peak.
Of course, this effect was limited to the village... Artoria's influence extended only so far.
"This is the importance of a god." Merlin explained.
"A god is a pillar, connecting heaven and earth, the surface and the underside of the world. As long as a god exists, aether naturally gathers around them instead of dissipating into the world's underside."
"I don't know the long-term consequences." Merlin added, "but for now, the crisis of the end times has been temporarily averted."
He seemed to sigh in relief.
But a closer look at his face revealed no trace of a smile.
For now, leaving the magus's thoughts aside, the god and the king had forged a covenant before the knights' eyes, vowing to bring true peace to the island.
Yet, somehow, compared to the shocked or fervent gazes of the others, Artoria's look at the "white dragon god" in the sky carried a sense of… absurdity.
Merlin had told her long ago that Alaric was a god, merely appearing as a dragon in this world.
But to Artoria, Alaric's image was still that of a cute young dragon with a big head, the one she'd fed pies to just two months ago.
So, seeing this colossal white dragon, vast enough to blot out the sky, felt utterly unreal to her.
It was as if this were an illusion, a prank by that mischievous young dragon to fool everyone.
But, alas, it was no illusion.
She reached out, touching the dragon's body. The smooth, cool white scales confirmed that everything before her was real.
"How about a ride?" Alaric asked, lifting her gently into his claw.
His massive form contrasted sharply with the petite frame of the king, yet onlookers instinctively felt that these were two titans gazing at each other as equals.
"Alright." Artoria nodded, settling atop Alaric's head, still oversized even after evolution.
In the next instant, the white dragon spread its wings, carrying her into the sky, soaring ten thousand meters high.
It was her first time at such a height. Looking down, the vast Britain she knew seemed no larger than a fingernail, a tiny island suspended at the western edge of the world, surrounded by seas.
"So small." She murmured after a long silence, struck by the sight.
Compared to the boundless world, the island seemed insignificant.
Yet, on that tiny, insignificant island lay everything she would give her all to protect.
"Let's go back." She said with a smile. "The people of this island are waiting for us to save them."
No matter the ultimate outcome, in that moment, the girl truly believed she had found the way to save Britain.
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