Blue-Eyes White Dragon: Adopted by the King of Knights [50]

“[Rhongomyniad] is the key that opens the end of the world.”

Strictly speaking, Scáthach’s description was a bit backward.

It wasn’t that pulling out the holy spear caused the end of the world—rather, it was that when the world was already ending, the spear had to be drawn.

That was the true meaning of [Rhongomyniad]’s existence.

But to the divine beings of this island, the distinction was meaningless.

“When the true apocalypse comes, this spear will fall into the hands of the one destined to save the world—to fulfill the mission of salvation.”

“But… truthfully—what people really pray for is that this spear will never have to be drawn.”

Scáthach sighed, her gaze resting on the Tower of Radiance that gleamed at the edge of the world.

Bluey shared her thoughts.

In that moment, he finally understood just how dangerous the thing Merlin had entrusted to Artoria truly was.

He understood why Vortigen, upon seeing the spear, would say it had “brought even greater ruin.”

And he finally understood why Artoria had bound the spear with thirteen seals, requiring the full agreement of the Round Table before its true power could be unleashed.

Because this was not a cure—it was a painkiller, potent and final.

To use it meant things had already passed the point of no return.

As long as the spear remained anchored in its place, then no matter how bad things got, there was still hope.

“Alright then. One last question.”

“Shishō… after walking the path you did, do you regret it?”

…

Scáthach blinked.

She looked up, meeting the white dragon’s gaze for the first time with a puzzled expression.

—She didn’t remember ever telling him those things.

“How does he know?”

Scáthach silently wondered whether Bluey had developed some strange divine ability—clairvoyance? Mind-reading?

But in the end, she let it go.

After all, she was Scáthach.

The oldest warrior of humanity was not someone to mince words.

“Though… yeah, I guess it hurts now.”

“When I first gripped my weapon, I didn’t think about anything else. I just kept pushing forward—cutting my way through.”

“And before I knew it, I ended up here. Too late to turn back, even if I wanted to.”

She sounded almost wistful.

From an “ordinary” human girl to a god-slaying hero—Scáthach had completed her mythic journey. Only she knew the pain. Only she had paid the cost.

“But it was my choice. So what is there to regret?”

“If you want victory, then paying a price is inevitable.”

“In fact… if there isn’t sacrifice, can you even call it victory?”

The oldest hero of mankind passed down her most precious insight to a disciple she never expected to have.

Her words reminded Bluey of a certain someone—a face from long ago.

“I respect victory.”

No matter what happens… I only respect victory!”

Bluey whispered in his heart.

In his system interface, the concept extracted from the [Sword of Promised Victory]—[Certain Victory]—began to shine.

---

Camelot Kingdom. The Temporary Royal Palace.

Another ordinary day.

After spending an entire day in the Dragon’s Sanctuary waiting for Bluey (who never showed up), Artoria returned to the council chamber, a little downcast.

The room, as always, held its usual cast.

The King, hard at work managing state affairs.

Bedivere, who compiled intelligence and submitted reports.

And Merlin—lounging by the window, leisurely munching on an apple.

“Oh my, is Her Majesty in a foul mood?”

“How rare!”

The magus teased playfully, seeing how uncharacteristically quiet the king was after returning without success.

Of course, it wasn’t Bluey she was upset with.

She was worried—worried for the island.

Especially now that she knew there was a way to save it. She wanted to find it—now—and put an end to the White Dragon King once and for all.

“But some things can’t be rushed, right?”

“Since we’ve got a bit of time… why not deal with the matter at hand first?”

“Like… welcoming a very important guest, perhaps?”

Merlin glanced out the window, a curious smile tugging at his lips.

“An important guest? Who?”

“Did Guinevere come back?”

In this kingdom, Princess Guinevere was absolutely considered “important”—not just because of her beauty, but her warmth and diplomacy. During the kingdom’s hardest days, she had brought much-needed supplies and even volunteered as Camelot’s diplomat, negotiating with foreign leaders on Artoria’s behalf.

To outsiders, Camelot’s favorable reputation rested half on Artoria, the King of Holy Oaths—and half on Guinevere, the ever-graceful ambassador-princess.

“Oh no, don’t let the other princess hear you say that.”

“She’s extremely petty.”

Merlin chuckled, clearly referring to the equally noble—but far less beloved—Red Dragon Princess, Morgan.

But in the next instant, his smile faded.

His voice turned serious.

“The one visiting today… is more important than both those princesses put together.”

“???”

Artoria looked up, confused.

What was this cryptic magus playing at?

Still, one thing was certain: Merlin never lied.

“Fine, then. Let’s see how ‘important’ this guest really is.”

Mildly curious, Artoria rose from her seat, preparing to leave the palace and greet this supposedly exalted visitor.

But there was no need.

Clang—

The heavy doors of the palace swung open from the outside.

A small figure stood silhouetted in the doorway, backlit by the afternoon sun—his face hidden by shadow.

But his voice—gruff, annoyed—was unmistakably familiar.

Familiar to her soul.

“This country’s under my protection!”

“Who the hell are you calling a guest, magus?”

---

T/N: IS THIS BLUEY??? NOOOO WHERES THE DRAGON DIC-

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!