Melusine, Become my Noble Phantasm!

Merlin waited outside the forest all day, only entering after the powerful dragon aura—spreading from the heart of the woods—finally began to dissipate. He knew better than to walk in while that pressure was still intense. Having used clairvoyance to witness Melusine's original attack firsthand, he was not eager to become cannon fodder.

Besides, spying with clairvoyance came with far worse consequences. Though half-nightmare and far more resilient than mortals, Merlin was not invincible—and he was no reckless old pervert.

If he really angered those two... no hidden sanctuary would save him.

When Merlin arrived at the cabin, Melusine had reverted to her little girl form and happily ate pudding, a satisfied smile lighting her face. Aslan sat nearby, radiating a calm, dignified presence, clad in a long-sleeved, high-necked dress.

Merlin's lips curled into a warm smile—the look of a father proud of his children.

"Thank you, Aslan. Without your help, our world might have been severed from this timeline. Regardless of your reasons..." Merlin bowed with the solemnity of a court noble.

"I spoke with the king. You are the last bloodline of Vortigern. Should you choose to stay in the human world, we will grant you a direct territory and bestow upon you the title of White Dragon King. Of course, this depends entirely on your wishes."

Aslan placed a glass of juice before Merlin, eyes serious and steady. "Merlin, you know my thoughts. Titles and lands mean nothing to me. Besides, I won't remain in Great Britain much longer. My next goal lies elsewhere—"

His gaze drifted to the distant continent visible through the window.

"To Rome," Aslan said simply. "I won't return for years."

With the basic materials, technology, and the White Dragon Soul now in hand, it was time to chase the next phase: studying Mecha-Gods. The path to surpassing the gods was uncertain, but clear. Tracking down the secrets of the Mecha-God was the foundation of my final masterpiece. I intend to become equal to—or greater than—the gods themselves, and I will see it done.

Merlin was silent for a moment, then nodded with understanding. This was the Aslan he'd always known.

Traveling to the mainland? Rome, though strained, remained powerful—not yet fallen.

Aslan and Melusine posed no threat; the Roman emperor was unlikely to act personally.

Merlin sipped his juice, then smiled again.

"As a friend, I wish you a safe journey. I hope your dreams come true swiftly. But heed this warning—do not try to alter the course of history."

Merlin's knowledge of Rome's future was hazy.

He knew King Arthur would eventually conquer Rome, seize Gaul, and briefly rule part of the city. After that... the final tragedy awaited. Merlin avoided dwelling on it.

"There is much to manage in Camelot now. Great Britain has finally achieved unity. Half the island's vegetation is altered; a population shortage looms. These urgent issues need attention.

"Consider this a brief farewell."

Merlin tapped his staff on the ground. Petals bloomed and scattered, carrying his words softly to Aslan's ears:

"Growing up is wonderful, but be moderate. After all, no high-neck dress can hide the mark on your chin."

Confused, I threw my forging hammer at Merlin's departing petals.

"Go to hell, Merlin!"

When I return from the mainland, that old bastard will likely be holed up in Utopia's tower. Then I'll storm the place, pin him down, and hammer some sense into his brain!

Pulling up my collar, I glanced at Melusine approaching.

"Merlin did have a point. Moderation!" I rapped on the table.

Two months passed before we were ready to leave.

How to reach the mainland?

Of course, by dragon flight.

Is there anything faster than Melusine?

But we couldn't land as dragons—too conspicuous.

Though I'm not afraid of Rome, I prefer not to make my presence obvious.

Especially since I intend to trace the Greek Age of Gods' remnants.

Few know that the Roman gods were originally Mecha—machines.

That knowledge is tempting to magicians but can draw endless pestering.

The Age of Gods is over; fantasy creatures are dwindling.

As the top dragon species, Melusine will draw attention once on the continent.

Most magicians sacrifice everything to master magic.

So, we stopped some distance from the coast.

From my magic pouch, I produced a boat long prepared, ready to row ashore under the guise of an adventurer.

Closer to the coast, Rome's grand architecture came into view.

The city had long recovered from the Age of Gods' dark period.

Compared to Great Britain's roughness, Rome was lively and exuberant.

-End Chapter-

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