Melusine, Become my Noble Phantasm!

In his memory, Aslan still saw his cheap father as he had been many years ago—golden-haired, not yet gray with age.

Time had passed. He had grown, and his cheap father had grown old.

As we age, we need health supplements.

Fortunately, the Spear of Destiny held powerful divine healing abilities—not only for oneself, but extendable to others.

As a filial son, Aslan naturally prepared this gift for his aging father—to nurture his worn body.

With the spear glowing with sacred and life light, Aslan hoped to care for his old father's health.

A good son must use all his magic to awaken the spear's power!

Ah, Father! A man strong all his life—please accept my humble care!

Am I your pride? Do you worry about me? The child you once cared for has grown.

The holy spear flashed, releasing its full might toward Vortigern's neck.

With such power, a weaker man would be turned to ash—neck severed, body destroyed.

Vortigern retracted his sword instantly, shrouding himself in island power for defense.

A dazzling light pierced the darkness, blinding in the pitch-black hall.

Aslan's face remained serious; he knew better than to relax prematurely. His advantage was not yet assured.

Had the dragon been so easily defeated, Artoria would not have been trapped in a bitter battle nearly a day long.

As the light faded, Aslan quickly recovered his magic, aided by the distant utopia's energy and the island's power.

Feeling the rapid regeneration, he sighed—he was likely the only one capable of sustained treasure attacks in this crusade.

But the dark power showed no signs of weakening.

His full-strength strike had barely dented his cheap father.

Not good.

Shouldn't I proudly say he's worthy to be my dad?

What's there to be proud of?!

I'm not some player obsessed with clearing every difficult level! It's really strange to be so fixated on reaching the level cap!

In this moment, he wished his cheap dad was weaker.

If he failed, he would likely die here.

Though they shared white dragon blood, Vortigern would never spare an enemy.

After the light and dust cleared, Vortigern stood before them.

His black armor cracked, the magic sword in his hand fractured.

He shook his head, then tore away the damaged armor, revealing muscles covered in scales.

These scales, deep black and faintly gleaming like dark gems, adorned his abdomen, chest, neck—even his cheeks—like living armor.

They had absorbed much of the spear's attack.

"You are indeed my good son. You gave me quite the surprise. Had I not paid attention, I might have enjoyed this gift fully. But alas, if you think such a trifle impresses me, you're a hundred years too early!"

The island's power swirled rapidly around him.

The shadow behind him spread great wings, wrapping him in darkness.

The holy spear's light was drawn in by a greater presence—an existence deeper than a black hole, a rift in space itself.

The darkness tore Vortigern free and continued devouring everything nearby.

The wind whipped hair and clothing as it pulled those near to the abyss.

If they hadn't anchored themselves with their weapons, they would have slipped into oblivion forever.

The compressed darkness throbbed like a beating heart.

If it could be described, the darkness was like an eggshell nurturing something mysterious.

Melusine growled low, her dragon instincts warning of an intruder.

A dragon was about to be born within this darkness.

No—born was wrong.

More accurate: returning to original form.

My cheap dad is about to return to his dragon form!

Click—

Cracks spread over the black eggshell.

But what emerged was not light—but an even deeper, more terrifying darkness, one that chilled the soul with a single glance.

-End Chapter-

PATREON IS LIVE!!!

Read 30 chapters ahead, more on the way!

[email protected]/TrashProspector

150 Stone = 1 Bonus Chapter

15 Reviews = 1 Bonus Chapter