"Your Excellency Vortigern, I bring greetings on behalf of my Queen, Morgan."
Dismounting his horse and handing the reins to an attendant beside him, Souya performed a knight's salute to the old man waiting at the city gates.
Frankly speaking, Souya was very surprised to see Vortigern personally waiting for him at the gates.
After all, no matter what, the other party was one of the twin dragons currently stirring the winds and clouds of Britain. Even if he was the one who requested to see Lamorak, there was no need to lower his status and welcome him like an ordinary old man.
Moreover, Vortigern was entirely alone, without a single soldier or attendant by his side.
"There is no need for excessive formalities between us, Lamorak."
Seeing Souya, who had become even more mature and reserved compared to before, the corners of Vortigern's mouth involuntarily curled up.
"Then I shall not stand on ceremony."
Souya exchanged a pleasantry, then pointed to the transport convoy dressed as merchants behind him and said:
"As for now, do you wish to inspect the agreed-upon supplies first, or do you have other arrangements?"
"I will have an inspector check the supplies later. For now, let us enter the city first."
Vortigern waved his hand, his tone making it seem as if he did not care about the supplies at all.
Since the other party did not care, as a guest, Souya naturally would not say much more.
Following the Vile King into Londinium, Souya first assigned the task of delivering the supplies and settling his personnel to a trusted subordinate. He then accepted Vortigern's invitation to stroll around the city and chat with him.
Along the way, Souya's gaze continuously swept over the city's facilities, architecture, and the lives and faces of its people.
What surprised him was that under Vortigern—who was reviled as a traitor by most Celts—there were actually many Celtic residents.
Furthermore, whether it was their lifestyle or the everyday smiles and behavior on their faces, there was not the slightest indication that they were Celts living under the rule of a brutal Vile King.
Every scene Souya was witnessing now contradicted Vortigern's negative reputation and infamy spread outside.
"Surprised, are you not? As a traitor to the Celts, the Calamitous White Dragon, the brutal and despicable Vortigern not only has a large number of Celtic subjects under him, but they also act completely unrelated to the name of the Demonic Dragon."
Seemingly noticing the trace of shock on Souya's face, Vortigern teased him with a smile.
Currently, the two were sitting in a tavern by the street. There were few patrons here, and the owner had recognized Vortigern. With full respect and joy, he declared that their tab was on the house.
Even the wine on the table before them now was given for free.
"Yes, this is indeed unlike the rumors about you outside."
Souya answered truthfully. He picked up his drink and took a shallow sip. The taste was overflowing with fruity aroma and a hint of sweetness.
Experiencing the quality of this fruit wine, Souya could not help but freeze.
Why would fruit wine of such high quality appear in a small tavern at the end of the Age of Gods?
"Heh."
Seeing Souya's expression, Vortigern chuckled lightly, then shifted the topic.
"Lamorak, walking all the way here from Camelot, have you felt or noticed anything?"
"Are you referring to the environment?"
Souya had an inkling and knew what Vortigern was implying.
In fact, Souya had noticed this issue on the way here and intended to ask Vortigern about it. He just did not expect the other party to bring it up before he did.
"Yes. It seems you have noticed. Compared to the past in our memories, the flora and fauna of Britain today have decayed far, far too much."
Vortigern stroked his beard, his aging face showing traces of the passage of time.
"Do you know, Lamorak? This is something that is bound to happen. Plants wither, animals go extinct, fish no longer swim in the streams, and the people's fields can no longer grow ripe ears of grain."
"Having lost all sources of food, the future of the Celts is easily imaginable."
Souya was silent for a moment before speaking slowly.
"This is all the result of the decline of the Age of Gods, is it not?"
"Of course."
Vortigern gave a definitive answer. He then pointed to the glass of fruit wine Souya had just drank from and asked:
"You should have tasted it just now. The quality of this fruit wine is clearly higher than in other parts of Britain."
"This is the result of my imposing the influence of the Age of Gods onto the land of Londinium, allowing the plants and crops grown here to partially reproduce their state when the Age of Gods existed."
"Can such a method truly work?"
Souya asked softly.
He had already detected a flaw in Vortigern's unfinished words.
"Or rather, is there any meaning in exhausting your energy to do this?"
"How could it be meaningless?"
Hearing this, Vortigern chuckled lightly. He shook his head and, like Souya, picked up his glass and took a sip.
"At the very least, through this experiment, I am certain that I have no other path left."
"No other path left?"
Souya instinctively repeated the phrase.
"Yes. Aside from a desperate, all-out struggle, I have no other choice."
Vortigern swirled his wine glass. Although he spoke such discouraging words, his expression and tone completely lacked the corresponding decadence.
"People always say that heaven never seals off all paths, but this saying does not seem to apply to this old dragon attempting to challenge heaven's might."
"Even if I use Magecraft to anchor the Age of Gods onto this land, without the support of 'True Ether', this so-called Age of Gods is merely an illusion that will quickly fade."
"In the end, I can only engage in a life-and-death battle with that little niece of mine who was manufactured, thereby deciding the ultimate fate of the Age of Gods in Britain."
Having said this, the elderly man, who was well over fifty, downed the fruit wine in his hand in one gulp.
That bold drinking motion in Souya's eyes looked both like a fearless hero and a lone king driven into a corner, preparing to risk everything in a desperate fight to the death.
"But Your Excellency Vortigern, are you confident you can defeat King Arthur and her Knights of the Round Table?"
Looking straight into the Vile King's amber pupils, Souya very much wanted to know what this old man, who shouldered an era and walked alone, was truly thinking.
Could he, who was chosen by the Age of Gods just like Vortigern, find the answer he sought from him?
However, to Souya's surprise, Vortigern's answer was extremely straightforward, even decisive.
"No confidence at all."
"Huh?"
Hearing the old man's unhesitating tone, Souya failed to react for a moment.
Wait. As the White Dragon, one of the twin dragons, the shadow looming over all of Britain, you're just admitting you can't beat the Red Dragon just like that?
Souya felt a slight ache in his teeth. He felt he truly could not see through this Vile King, Vortigern.
But the other party did not seem to think this was a big deal. Instead, with a smile on his lips, he said:
"It's quite normal if you think about it. That is the Child of the Red Dragon born to answer the Will of the World. Supported by so many Celtic knights, how could she be defeated by a lone man like me?"
As he said this, whether it was an illusion or not, Souya felt Vortigern deliberately shoot him a glance.
Casting aside the strange feeling in his heart, Souya still could not help but ask a question he had wanted to ask for a long time.
"But Your Excellency Vortigern, since restoring the Age of Gods is to save the lives of all Celts and Britain, why do you not say it out loud?"
"If you spoke the truth, even if Uther and Merlin still chose the future, wouldn't there be many Celts who would follow you? If that were the case, you wouldn't be stuck in this... well, isolated situation, would you?"
Humans, no matter how noble or selfless they sounded, if a matter concerned their own life or death, the vast majority would selfishly choose to preserve their own lives.
No one wanted to die, and no one should die in vain.
Souya believed that if the people of Britain knew the Vile King initiated the rebellion against Uther to save them, there would definitely be many capable and idealistic individuals willing to join and help him.
But Vortigern's next sentence plunged the confused Souya into silence once again.
"It is not that I do not want to say it, but that I cannot."
"Lamorak, think about it. If the Celts, who are part of the Age of Gods, learned the secret of the Age of Gods' demise, then in this idealistic world..."
"How long before the Age of Gods disappears, and how much time would we have left to save it?"