Blue-Eyes White Dragon: Adopted by the King of Knights [14]

The sword was planted in the ground.

The girl named Wenna stood pale and shaken.

But just as Bluey had said—she no longer had time to hesitate.

She had to choose: kill her people, or kill the young dragon. There was no middle ground. She could only force herself to reach out with trembling fingers and grip the cold hilt of the sword.

"Hey—!"

Artoria’s brow furrowed deeply at the sight.

She didn’t understand how things had come to this—Bluey had saved those dying villagers, and yet in the blink of an eye, he was now their enemy?

"This is too cruel!"

Artoria couldn’t make sense of it, but her knightly heart told her that she absolutely couldn’t stand by and watch this happen. So, the moment Wenna took hold of the sword, she reached out, ready to intervene.

—but just then, a hand landed gently but firmly on her shoulder, stopping her in her tracks.

"You’d best not interfere, Lily."

A calm yet serious voice spoke behind her. Artoria turned around in shock—only to see the flower-wielding magus who usually appeared only in her dreams.

"Merlin? When did you get here?"

"Hmm… I’ve been around for a while now."

The magus replied with a smile.

And before Artoria, who was clearly agitated, could say anything further, he turned his gaze to the young dragon hovering in the air, who now looked warily down at them. Merlin gave him a slight nod of greeting.

"Good day, Lord White Dragon. I hope you’ll forgive my uninvited appearance—my student, I’m afraid, still has much to learn."

He spoke with the utmost courtesy.

Bluey regarded him for a moment, then let out a dissatisfied snort. He descended, settling atop the sanctuary, shifting his attention away from the "teacher and student" pair and back to the girl who had just stepped through the stone crevice.

"Ah… how lucky," Merlin muttered.

"To trespass so carelessly into a dragon god’s territory… even I would’ve felt some pressure."

He dabbed his forehead theatrically, feigning relief.

Then he turned back to Artoria, who looked like she wanted to protest but couldn’t find the words. Merlin began what was clearly an impromptu "on-site lesson."

"This is a bit of an unexpected class. I didn’t anticipate things unfolding like this... but since we’re here, we may as well use it."

"Lily, remember my warning."

"No matter how close you and Bluey are—even if you’d willingly share your last bite of food with each other—if he’s disciplining his own retainers, you must not interfere."

"Unless you’re prepared to break ties with him—or even go to war."

…

A king is never truly alone.

Every king has their retainers—not just bureaucrats or those who serve any ruler out of duty. True retainers are those who share the same ideals and aspirations, who stand beside the king on the same path.

As someone destined to become a king, Artoria had long thought about the kind of people she would one day build her legacy with.

Naturally, there wasn’t much debate about that. After all, Sir Ector’s decade of strict instruction had long since etched the ideals of chivalry into her very soul. It was a part of her—an inseparable piece of her moral core.

"But Bluey is different."

"He’s a true dragon. And by right, his retainers should be dragons as well."

"But this island has no other dragons for him to command."

"So when forced to take humans as his subjects, he must also take on the burden of forging them into something worthy."

Just like Bluey had said earlier—

He wasn’t a god. He had no love for praying humans. What he respected were the brave—those who acted.

"Doing something might be wrong. But doing nothing is always wrong."

Bluey seemed to be pressuring the girl into making a choice, but what he was really doing was passing on the most sacred tenet of the White Dragon clan:

"Dare to think."
"Dare to act."

…

Wenna emerged from the stone crevice, sword in hand, and stepped once more into the open world.

Before her stood her former kin—each face familiar, some even dear to her.

“Hey, Wenna! I knew you were here!”

A cheerful shout rose from the crowd.

But the girl no longer heard them.

She raised the longsword and, without hesitation, slashed at the nearest villager.

Schlk—

The sharp blade cut into their shoulder—not fatal, but deliberate.

She had aimed carefully.

She didn’t want to kill them. But she refused to turn her blade against the god in her heart. So she took the only path left to her—a compromise.

One that might have looked even crueler than killing them outright:

“Wenna, what are you—?! You’ve gone ma—”

Swsh—

There was no room for explanation.

With her heart already resolved, the girl swung her sword again and again, targeting only arms, legs—nonlethal blows.

She had one goal: stop her people from advancing on the sanctuary.

To be clear, her people weren’t mindless targets. When she struck the first one, the others immediately realized something was wrong—and began to fight back.

But… the difference in strength was overwhelming.

Some of the villagers, like Wenna, had also received the dragon’s baptism. Their hair had turned silver, just like hers.

But not all baptisms were created equal.

It was like the old legend of Nuwa creating humans.

The first batch she shaped by hand, with exquisite care—like crafted figurines. But the later ones? She dipped vines into mud and flung droplets into the air.

How could those be the same?

In the same way, though all had bathed in dragon blood, Wenna had been the first. She’d been chosen by Bluey himself. The strength she gained wasn’t even on the same scale as the others.

Faced with their attacks, the girl—despite lacking any true combat training—easily repelled three or four of them with simple, instinctual swings.

And after about ten minutes, barely a third of the villagers were still standing.

"So?" she said at last, her voice low.

"Are we going to keep doing this?"

"If all of you fall here… even if the wounds aren’t fatal, you’ll bleed out before anyone can treat you."

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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!