Blue-Eyes White Dragon: Adopted by the King of Knights [31]

Bluey circled high above in the night sky.

He didn’t descend—he didn’t want to crush the tiny, dollhouse-like homes below. He made no sound either, careful not to disturb the dreams of the humans who had toiled all day.

“Good evening~”

A moment later, Artoria finally stepped out from the little wooden cabin, her duties at last complete.

She looked up, her face lighting up with joy at the sight of the long-absent little dragon… No, not so little anymore. What hovered before her now was no fledgling, but a majestic, awe-inspiring divine being.

But in Artoria’s heart, it was still the same dragon who had once leapt out of a stone and shared rabbits with her. That mischievous creature who had once tugged at her sleeve and grumbled when she didn’t eat enough.

“You want me to come with you? But… where?”

Artoria blinked, puzzled, following the direction Bluey pointed—his back.

There were two blurry figures seated there.

She recognized one of them: the silver-haired girl he had once saved and later taken in as a vassal. But seated beside her, unconscious and slumped over, was a woman she didn’t recognize.

“…Why?”

She frowned slightly and placed her right hand against her chest.

“Why does just looking at her make my heart beat so fast?”

…

With Artoria now riding on his back, Bluey resumed flying forward.

His speed was overwhelming. In just a few minutes, he had crossed mountains and rivers alike, soaring toward a place Artoria had once known well—yet now seemed strangely unfamiliar.

“This is… that valley?”

Threading through a familiar stone crevice, Artoria looked ahead in uncertainty.

In the place that should’ve been shrouded in darkness, she saw floating lights—like a sea of fireflies, glowing softly in the night. But as she drew closer, she realized they weren’t fireflies at all. They were tiny, luminous spirits, drifting gently through the gorge. What once seemed narrow now stretched like an endless dreamscape, and the spirits danced across every patch of land the night touched.

And there—at the center of it all—stood the Dragon Shrine.

Built by the little dragon’s own claws, its idol carved with Artoria’s own hands, the shrine now glowed with a pure white radiance. Amidst the floating lights, it stood like the moon among stars—an altar nestled in the Milky Way.

“Yes, this is that valley,” Bluey said calmly. “I’ve just… remodeled it a bit.”

He landed in the grass below.

Even though he tried to be as gentle as possible, the wind from his descent still scattered the spirits in every direction. They shrieked with laughter, scattering like a burst of fireworks.

“I see. So this is your… Sanctuary?”

Artoria took a moment, surprised—but understanding soon settled in her eyes.

A Sanctuary. A half-realm—connected to the real world, but still distinct from it.

There were many legends of Sanctuaries in Britannia: Cú Chulainn, the famed Celtic hero, had once studied combat in the Land of Shadows. Fionn mac Cumhaill, the Irish champion, had stumbled into a sea god’s sanctuary, where he married the god’s daughter and spent a fleeting but blissful period of peace—only to return and find that three centuries had passed in the world outside.

Which was exactly why Merlin had once said: “Recklessly stepping into a god’s domain is extremely dangerous.”

“…So if I leave this place, will three hundred years have gone by?”

Artoria asked, half-joking.

“Although… maybe that wouldn’t be so bad? That way I’d skip the whole downfall part and go straight to being the one who restores the kingdom.”

Bluey gave her a sidelong glance.

Being king did seem to come with perks. At least the ahoge girl now knew how to tell a joke.

“If you really want to become the savior king,” he said lightly, “there’s a shortcut.”

“You just have to kill her with your own hands.”

…

Morgan tumbled from Bluey’s back.

She landed in soft grass, unharmed—but dirt and leaves clung to her cloak, and her already pale face, drained from earlier exertion, now looked utterly disheveled.

Artoria stared at the woman with curiosity—then, suddenly, her expression shifted.

“…Is she… my mother?”

……

Well, okay. That wasn’t entirely her fault.

Merlin had never told her anything about Uther Pendragon. Nothing about the Pendragon family at all. She had no idea she even had a half-sister—let alone one more than ten years older. In an age of early marriages and quick births, seeing someone who looked ninety-nine percent like herself, only older and more mature… It was natural to jump to that conclusion.

……

Morgan was stunned, too.

Just moments ago, she had been sizing up this girl with cold disdain. She didn’t need anyone to explain it. That face—the mirror of her own—made her identity painfully clear.

Filthy bastard! A shameless usurper! You ignored our kingdom’s ancient vendettas and made a pact with the White Dragon—just to steal the throne!

Father must have been blind to choose you!

Morgan was trembling with fury. Her nails had already dug into her palms. She wanted nothing more than to purge this “traitor” on the spot.

But then…

Then that single word—“Mom”—left Artoria’s lips.

And somehow, all that hatred, all that resentment, just… evaporated.

“…What a moron,” Morgan muttered, glaring at the girl whose expression now danced between hopeful and confused.

She was cursing herself.

Morgan took a second look at the girl—this supposed half-sister of hers. Despite her noble bloodline, she stood barely five feet tall. Her chest was entirely flat, her limbs thin. She looked more like a scrawny village boy than a royal heir.

Morgan had every reason to believe this girl had never had a full meal in her life.

Why am I even comparing myself to a bastard who’s never even met her own mother?

---

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!