Blue-Eyes White Dragon: Adopted by the King of Knights [54]

Honestly, Bluey really wanted to say: I have no idea what kind of ritual this is supposed to be.

No—what he really wanted to do was take that Tower and move it. Just relocate it somewhere Artoria would never find it again, and let this entire summoning ritual vanish into oblivion.

But he couldn’t.

Because he knew full well: this so-called "Heroic Spirit Summoning Ritual," and the ensuing so-called "Holy Grail War," were, at their core—a test.

They were the “survey team” dispatched by the Counter Force of the planet, sent to investigate once it detected the abnormality surrounding this island.

He couldn't interfere with these "inspectors," let alone eliminate them at the root.
It would be like a local official trying to stonewall a central government audit team.

You get it, right?

If anything happened to these inspectors, the Counter Force would immediately flag this region’s history as deeply flawed. And if that happened… well, whether it was Human Order Revision or the arrival of an Ultimate One— even if they managed to win in the end, a ravaged, broken Britain was the last thing Bluey wanted.

So, not only can’t I stop them, I have to actively cooperate.

Then figure out a way to muddle through.

While sorting his thoughts, Bluey opened the gateway to the Reverse Side of the World and led Artoria into the radiant Pillar of Stars, which stood tall at the edge of the world.

—Truth be told, this was his first time entering the tower himself. Only now was he seeing its interior firsthand.

"Honestly? Nothing too special, is it?"

"Just a normal tower, really. The only reason it’s being used for the summoning is because of its… inconveniently special location."

...

By the time Bluey and Artoria arrived, the mage had already reached the tower ahead of them and drawn a heptagram on the floor.

“Well then, Your Majesty,”

“The ritual is about to begin. Please take your place in the center.”

---

The Heptagram.

In the study of the arcane, this was a symbol imbued with powerful mystical resonance.

One interpretation claimed that the seven points represented the world’s fundamental elements: earth, fire, water, wind, light, darkness, and the unique factor of human emotion—together forming the foundation of all existence.

In essence, an echo of the legend of God creating the world in seven days.

Others believed that to draw a perfect heptagram in a single stroke was to beckon a true miracle.

But the mage had a more pragmatic take:

"It’s really not that deep. There just happen to be seven of you, that’s all."

He smiled as he said it.

At his prompting, Artoria stepped into the center of the star.

“I don’t have to… do anything else?”

She looked confused. She’d expected a summoning ritual to be intricate and difficult—requiring rare ingredients, elaborate chants, complex incantations.

But now the mage was telling her all she had to do was stand there?

“Well, technically, yes—it would normally require incantations and catalysts and all that.”

“But since it’s you—the King—standing there, even without any of that, someone’s bound to answer your call!”

He said this with total certainty—not flattery, but a simple statement of fact.

Meanwhile, Bluey—already guessing which individuals might respond to the summoning—closed his eyes involuntarily.

He silently offered a prayer for a certain princess, who’d probably faint from rage after dealing with another batch of unruly students.

Here’s hoping she can keep her temper. Don’t blow up just because some kids misbehaved… again.

…

The ritual began.

Standing at the center of the heptagram, Artoria felt a mix of nervousness and anticipation about what was to come.

At the same time, the summoning circle—already saturated with Merlin’s accumulated mana—reacted violently to her presence.

A blue-white magical storm erupted from her, sweeping outward in waves. Within the Tower of Radiance, where mystery thrived, the sheer density of magical energy became tangible—forming a visible mist of condensed mana.

Seven figures, all different in shape and stature, began to shimmer into view—each appearing at one of the seven points of the star.

They looked distinct from one another, yet all held the same pose: one knee on the ground, heads bowed in reverence.

Their right hands pressed to their chests in a textbook knight's salute—sworn loyalty conveyed without a word.

For knights, this was the most solemn of ceremonies.

It was a rite reserved for the moment they were knighted—when they offered themselves wholly to the king.

Artoria, honored as the King of Knights, naturally understood this.

And she also knew what came next. She would need to draw her sword, place the blade to their shoulder, and bestow knighthood in return.

But there was a problem…

There were seven kneeling before her—yet she was only one.
Whose shoulder should her blade fall on first?

“Do you even have to ask? Of course it should be me!”

“I’m your real—wait, Father, why do you look like that?!”

One of the knights—who bore the exact same face as Artoria—was the first to look up, staring in disbelief at the central figure. Then she looked down at her own feet, a visibly bewildered expression crossing her face.

Was this really her father-king?

Was this even the Britain she knew?

What the hell was going on here?

…

The other knights were momentarily just as dazed after seeing Artoria clearly.

—But it didn’t take long for understanding to settle in.

Faces might change, but a spiritual foundation did not.

The one standing there, at the center of the star, was the King they had sworn their loyalty to.

If not, none of them would have responded to the Holy Grail’s call—none of them would have returned to this beloved Britain.

“So… you’re all my knights?”

Artoria blinked, stunned.

She swore she had never seen these knights before in her life.

And yet, they all radiated a strange, comforting familiarity—especially five of them. There was something blood-deep about the connection she felt with those five.

“Ah, Father—let me introduce everyone!”

“I’m your favorite child! Mordred Pendragon! You were gonna pass the crown down to me!”

With the instincts of a beast, Mordred’s eyes sparkled.

She’d realized this might be a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

And she was going to seize it.

“This guy here, who’s built like a gorilla, is Gawain. His cooking sucks—he only knows how to make mashed potatoes.”

“That one over there in full armor is Gareth. She always burns the food. Can’t control the flames worth a damn.”

“This gloomy one is Agravain. Loves ruining everyone’s appetite by sharing bad news during meals.”

Before anyone else could get a word in, Mordred fired off introductions for three of her fellow knights.

But when her gaze landed on the fourth—a petite girl in a thin white dress, light violet hair, one eye hidden beneath her bangs—

The once-chatty, rebellious knight suddenly froze.
Her face—nearly a mirror of Artoria’s—became utterly confused.

“…Uhh.”

“Hey, gorgeous, who are you?”

---

T/N: MASH????????????

This is a fan translation of 综漫：青眼幼龙，被骑士王捡到了 by 歌冰丽月. All rights to the original work belong to the creator. Please support them by exploring their original work or sharing it with others if you can. Thank you for reading and supporting my efforts to bring this story to a wider audience!